#but he loses them too for getting rid of her rainbow hair

[chloesimaginationthings]

Vanny’s story in FNAF help wanted summed up

[chettercheese-the-fnaf-lover]

Idea 13: Things Vanessa does to get over Vanny, a sequel to Idea 6 (kinda)

As has been previously stated, I consider Vannys personality to effectively be the polar opposite of Vanessa's, with some exceptions. I wanted to expand on that with this idea that Vanessa would try to do things as differently from Vanny as possible. She does this in order to help convince herself that they were not the same. Here is a list of some of those things, ranging from minor to major, in no particular order:

She stops wearing hats indoors and uses a different hair style (something easier to do than a damn ponytail, which according to Roxy, "hasn't been popular since the 70s". So Roxy gives her a friendly makeover). She also decides to start using rainbow extensions again.

She creates a small bowl of candy and puts it on her kitchen counter. This seems to directly contradict the therapy tapes heard in-game, but fret not, as I have a potential reason for this. I believe that the therapy sessions happened in a weird sort of "transition period" between Afton possessing Vanessa and Vanny being created. This period was defined by Afton trying to heavily influence her behavior to make Vanessa more obedient. She wouldn't notice anything being amiss, because Afton would suppress her existing memories and try and create fake ones to support and explain her new behavior. Eventually Afton would get tired of this and create Vanny to control Vanessa and get rid of all the smoke and mirrors, fully restoring Vanessa's memories and behavior back to normal. So in a nutshell Vanny hated candy while Vanessa quite liked it, so this is another way she differentiates herself from Vanny.

She tries to avoid getting slightly upset or mad at anyone, but especially children. Vanessa is absolutely TERRIFIED of losing her temper in front of children, because then that means they will be scared of her. This makes Vanessa, in her mind, just as bad as Vanny. This is because Vanny was constantly irritated and annoyed by everything, and preferred to yell at people and insult them. Thus Vanessa now speaks softly, almost never raising her voice above a normal speaking volume. She also apologizes for everything she says that she thinks is an insult,, even if it isn't. Anger was basically one of the only 2 emotions that Vanny felt. The other emotion was…

…pure ecstasy, which Vanny only felt when she was murdering her victims while also wearing a deranged smile. As a result, she tries to find more reasons to be happy and smile softly in her life. This is comparatively easy, (although it is still a lot more difficult to be happy and positive then it was before) the animatronics help her by being available to talk to. Luis also assists by just being supportive and he is especially great for whenever she needs some comforting words of encouragement. He and Gregory also offer to play some games with her, which she really appreciates because of the company.

She stops wearing clothes with long sleeves like sweatshirts and jeans. The stuffy feeling they give her feels way too much like HER costume, something she only discovered after she tried wearing "her" work uniform for the first time after being freed. She had a flashback, had a small panic attack, and quietly sobbed in her bedroom for 30 minutes. She ended up just showing up out of uniform, but no one really cared so it was fine.

She starts making cupcakes and cooking again, something she loved doing before this mess happened (check the cut FNAF AR emails.) Everyone at her workplace loved them, Luis even had some made for him especially ;). Chica even asks for her recipe after Vanessa brings some to eat at the pizzaplex and the 2 end up sharing multiple recipes with each other and become great friends.

After being freed, Vanessa is extremely hesitant to be near knives, let alone hold one, for obvious reasons. However she really wants to get over this fear she has because she wants to start cooking things since that was a hobby she had before… before.

Vanessa would start by having Gregory take out a knife and put it on her kitchen counter before he then leaves the area.

Then once she gets acclimated to the knife's presence, she would move a bit closer.

She would repeat these steps until she is within arms reach of the knife. Now comes a more difficult step, touching it

Vanessa moves her arm very slowly towards the knife, gives it a small poke, and then quickly darts away like she touched hot coals. This repeats, each poke lasting a longer amount of time, until she is able to rest her hand on the knife.

The next step is the scariest for her, holding it. She takes it even slower, constantly reminding herself that she is in control and that nothing bad is going to happen. She manages to give it, moves it around, and then gently places it back in the drawer.

Vanessa relaxes, lets out the breath she was holding, and walks out of the kitchen.

Actually cutting something will come later, but for now this is enough.

vannasa and vanny have different patient numbers in the tapes in help wanted if i remember correctly, but at this point it feels like an au but that's not so bad. the more i read the more i feel bad for vannasa

[icedmetaltea]

Idea 13: Things Vanessa does to get over Vanny, a sequel to Idea 6 (kinda)

As has been previously stated, I consider Vannys personality to effectively be the polar opposite of Vanessa's, with some exceptions. I wanted to expand on that with this idea that Vanessa would try to do things as differently from Vanny as possible. She does this in order to help convince herself that they were not the same. Here is a list of some of those things, ranging from minor to major, in no particular order:

She stops wearing hats indoors and uses a different hair style (something easier to do than a damn ponytail, which according to Roxy, "hasn't been popular since the 70s". So Roxy gives her a friendly makeover). She also decides to start using rainbow extensions again.

She creates a small bowl of candy and puts it on her kitchen counter. This seems to directly contradict the therapy tapes heard in-game, but fret not, as I have a potential reason for this. I believe that the therapy sessions happened in a weird sort of "transition period" between Afton possessing Vanessa and Vanny being created. This period was defined by Afton trying to heavily influence her behavior to make Vanessa more obedient. She wouldn't notice anything being amiss, because Afton would suppress her existing memories and try and create fake ones to support and explain her new behavior. Eventually Afton would get tired of this and create Vanny to control Vanessa and get rid of all the smoke and mirrors, fully restoring Vanessa's memories and behavior back to normal. So in a nutshell Vanny hated candy while Vanessa quite liked it, so this is another way she differentiates herself from Vanny.

She tries to avoid getting slightly upset or mad at anyone, but especially children. Vanessa is absolutely TERRIFIED of losing her temper in front of children, because then that means they will be scared of her. This makes Vanessa, in her mind, just as bad as Vanny. This is because Vanny was constantly irritated and annoyed by everything, and preferred to yell at people and insult them. Thus Vanessa now speaks softly, almost never raising her voice above a normal speaking volume. She also apologizes for everything she says that she thinks is an insult,, even if it isn't. Anger was basically one of the only 2 emotions that Vanny felt. The other emotion was…

…pure ecstasy, which Vanny only felt when she was murdering her victims while also wearing a deranged smile. As a result, she tries to find more reasons to be happy and smile softly in her life. This is comparatively easy, (although it is still a lot more difficult to be happy and positive then it was before) the animatronics help her by being available to talk to. Luis also assists by just being supportive and he is especially great for whenever she needs some comforting words of encouragement. He and Gregory also offer to play some games with her, which she really appreciates because of the company.She stops wearing clothes with long sleeves like sweatshirts and jeans. The stuffy feeling they give her feels way too much like HER costume, something she only discovered after she tried wearing "her" work uniform for the first time after being freed. She had a flashback, had a small panic attack, and quietly sobbed in her bedroom for 30 minutes. She ended up just showing up out of uniform, but no one really cared so it was fine.

She starts making cupcakes and cooking again, something she loved doing before this mess happened (check the cut FNAF AR emails.) Everyone at her workplace loved them, Luis even had some made for him especially ;). Chica even asks for her recipe after Vanessa brings some to eat at the pizzaplex and the 2 end up sharing multiple recipes with each other and become great friends.

After being freed, Vanessa is extremely hesitant to be near knives, let alone hold one, for obvious reasons. However she really wants to get over this fear she has because she wants to start cooking things since that was a hobby she had before… before.

Vanessa would start by having Gregory take out a knife and put it on her kitchen counter before he then leaves the area.

Then once she gets acclimated to the knife's presence, she would move a bit closer.

She would repeat these steps until she is within arms reach of the knife. Now comes a more difficult step, touching it

Vanessa moves her arm very slowly towards the knife, gives it a small poke, and then quickly darts away like she touched hot coals. This repeats, each poke lasting a longer amount of time, until she is able to rest her hand on the knife.

The next step is the scariest for her, holding it. She takes it even slower, constantly reminding herself that she is in control and that nothing bad is going to happen. She manages to give it, moves it around, and then gently places it back in the drawer.

Vanessa relaxes, lets out the breath she was holding, and walks out of the kitchen.

Actually cutting something will come later, but for now this is enough.

In this house we stan HEALING 👏👏👏

[glitch-in-the-code]

Idea 13: Things Vanessa does to get over Vanny, a sequel to Idea 6 (kinda)

As has been previously stated, I consider Vannys personality to effectively be the polar opposite of Vanessa's, with some exceptions. I wanted to expand on that with this idea that Vanessa would try to do things as differently from Vanny as possible. She does this in order to help convince herself that they were not the same. Here is a list of some of those things, ranging from minor to major, in no particular order:

She stops wearing hats indoors and uses a different hair style (something easier to do than a damn ponytail, which according to Roxy, "hasn't been popular since the 70s". So Roxy gives her a friendly makeover). She also decides to start using rainbow extensions again.

She creates a small bowl of candy and puts it on her kitchen counter. This seems to directly contradict the therapy tapes heard in-game, but fret not, as I have a potential reason for this. I believe that the therapy sessions happened in a weird sort of "transition period" between Afton possessing Vanessa and Vanny being created. This period was defined by Afton trying to heavily influence her behavior to make Vanessa more obedient. She wouldn't notice anything being amiss, because Afton would suppress her existing memories and try and create fake ones to support and explain her new behavior. Eventually Afton would get tired of this and create Vanny to control Vanessa and get rid of all the smoke and mirrors, fully restoring Vanessa's memories and behavior back to normal. So in a nutshell Vanny hated candy while Vanessa quite liked it, so this is another way she differentiates herself from Vanny.

She tries to avoid getting slightly upset or mad at anyone, but especially children. Vanessa is absolutely TERRIFIED of losing her temper in front of children, because then that means they will be scared of her. This makes Vanessa, in her mind, just as bad as Vanny. This is because Vanny was constantly irritated and annoyed by everything, and preferred to yell at people and insult them. Thus Vanessa now speaks softly, almost never raising her voice above a normal speaking volume. She also apologizes for everything she says that she thinks is an insult,, even if it isn't. Anger was basically one of the only 2 emotions that Vanny felt. The other emotion was…

…pure ecstasy, which Vanny only felt when she was murdering her victims while also wearing a deranged smile. As a result, she tries to find more reasons to be happy and smile softly in her life. This is comparatively easy, (although it is still a lot more difficult to be happy and positive then it was before) the animatronics help her by being available to talk to. Luis also assists by just being supportive and he is especially great for whenever she needs some comforting words of encouragement. He and Gregory also offer to play some games with her, which she really appreciates because of the company.

She stops wearing clothes with long sleeves like sweatshirts and jeans. The stuffy feeling they give her feels way too much like HER costume, something she only discovered after she tried wearing "her" work uniform for the first time after being freed. She had a flashback, had a small panic attack, and quietly sobbed in her bedroom for 30 minutes. She ended up just showing up out of uniform, but no one really cared so it was fine.

She starts making cupcakes and cooking again, something she loved doing before this mess happened (check the cut FNAF AR emails.) Everyone at her workplace loved them, Luis even had some made for him especially ;). Chica even asks for her recipe after Vanessa brings some to eat at the pizzaplex and the 2 end up sharing multiple recipes with each other and become great friends.

After being freed, Vanessa is extremely hesitant to be near knives, let alone hold one, for obvious reasons. However she really wants to get over this fear she has because she wants to start cooking things since that was a hobby she had before… before.

Vanessa would start by having Gregory take out a knife and put it on her kitchen counter before he then leaves the area.

Then once she gets acclimated to the knife's presence, she would move a bit closer.

She would repeat these steps until she is within arms reach of the knife. Now comes a more difficult step, touching it

Vanessa moves her arm very slowly towards the knife, gives it a small poke, and then quickly darts away like she touched hot coals. This repeats, each poke lasting a longer amount of time, until she is able to rest her hand on the knife.

The next step is the scariest for her, holding it. She takes it even slower, constantly reminding herself that she is in control and that nothing bad is going to happen. She manages to give it, moves it around, and then gently places it back in the drawer.

Vanessa relaxes, lets out the breath she was holding, and walks out of the kitchen.

Actually cutting something will come later, but for now this is enough.

I’m glad Vanessa is taking steps!!! Is it weird to say I’m proud of her?

[darklove9314-blog]

Please Me-Nessian NSFW

Author’s Note: This fic is for day 2 of Nessian Month! If you would like to join, the prompts are on @illyrianet page!!! (Prompt used: Sex Toys)

Azriel’s eyebrows lifted as a fierce blush produced on Nesta’s cheeks. Why the hell did she ask about this in the first place? she should have known it was too personal of a thing to ask. But her embarrassment dimmed some when Azriel gave her a soft laugh.

“I usually go to this shop on the rainbow for all my stuff. I can give you the address and if you don’t want to go alone, I’m sure Mor or Feyre would be willing to go with you.“

Nesta sighed looking around to make sure that no one could hear them.

“I’d rather not go shopping for sex toys with my sister of all people. As for Mor, well, I know how much she loves to chat and I wouldn’t want the surprise to be ruined for Cassian when he comes back for his birthday tomorrow.”

Azriel nodded, “So you’re going alone?”

“That‘s the plan.” Nesta confirmed. wanting to end this conversatio, she had only asked because she had constantly heard about Azriel’s special talents, and she thought if anyone would know where a good place to get sex toys were it would be him.

“In that case, happy shopping. I’m sure whatever you end up getting Cassian will be more than pleased.” Azriel teased. Nesta rolled her eyes slightly as she made her way out of the house to make her purchases.

“Nesta!” Cassian called out, the house blowing him a sign of greeting as he smiled back at it.

“It’s nice to see you again too. Any idea where my mate has gone off to?“ He asked as the house produced a walkway of candles to communicate. Interesting.

“Thank you.” He said to the house as he made his way to the bedroom that Nesta and himself had designated as theirs.

“Nesta, sweetheart, I’m-“ The words clogged in his throat as his gaze darted to the mouth watering sight he saw. His cock hardening at the sight of her. Reminding him of how long it had been since he had been inside of her. Something he was hoping on remedying rather soon.

Nesta stood there in a red lace bra that shimmered in the light barely covering her voluminous breast looking as if they were going to spill out of it as his gaze traveled downward making sure to take his time. to drink her in.

Her underwear rested on her hips, displaying that marvelous ass of hers. making him want to travel his hands down the curves of her body before he took her right then and there.

But what had stopped him was that Nesta arms were attached to a specific device. her wrist bound by two red ribbons. His eyes than glanced at the table beside her. the table that had displayed numerous toys that were ripe for the choosing. his hazel brown eyes met her blue grey eyes. The desire written all over her face. He would gladly fuck that sweet cunt of hers until he had her screaming his name from her lips, but first he wanted to play.

He walked over to her slowly, assessing her, the way that beautiful body of hers seemed more than ready for him to take her. To please her. He knew that she wanted him to touch her, to kiss her. But if they were going to play this game, Cassian had more than his fair share of experience in it.

His finger drew across the satin ribbons holding her in place feeling their softness. They seemed to be durable for the most part. Which Cassian was pleased with. They needed to be with everything he had planned to do with her.

“These are new.“ He mused. He swore he could hear her breath catching. Could scent her desire. Her underwear nicely soaked, but that wasn’t nearly enough. he wanted her drenching them by the time he was ready to take her.

“I may have got them for your birthday.” She breathed as his hand slid over the ribbon once more. His eyes traveled to the array of toys beside them.

“Did you buy those as well?” He asked, his breath sweeping across her skin. He tightened the ribbons slightly. She nodded waiting for his next response.

“I bought them so we could have some fun.” She purred. The sound making Cassian’s cock ache with the need to plunge into her. To spend his seed so deep that she would smell of him for days. But now was not the time to be thinking of that. If Nesta wanted to play than they would play.

“Have you been thinking of all the naughty things I could do to you, Nes?” He asked inching forward, his body barely brushing against hers.

“Yes.” She breathed.

“There are so many things that I can do to pleasure you Nesta.“ His lips inches towards the shell of her ear, bitting it slightly. A approving gasp falling from her lips. “Did you want me to do all of them?”

“Yes. “ She said. His finger moving to her bra, sliding the strap of it down to bare her shoulder to him.

“I may not be gentle.“ He whispered. pressing his length to her. Letting her feel everything that she was doing to him. She gasped, Her bound hands moving towards him before she remembered that they were bound. She threw back her head looking deep into his eyes.

“Good, because I don’t want you to be.“ She replied. Making his cock harden at her words. at the implication of them.

“If I do something you don’t like-“ He started.

“Then I’ll stop you with no hesitation.“ She assured him meeting his heated gaze. “But right now I want you to fuck me so hard that I won’t be able to sit right for days.“

“I think I can manage that.“ Cassian acknowledged. His lips curving in a wicked smile, ”But first I want you ready to accommodate me. I want everyone to scent your need for miles. You’ll be as wet as the Sidra when I finally slip into that paradise of yours.”

Cassian‘s eyes traveled to Nesta‘s hardened nipples. Them taunting him through the fabric of her bra, begging him to touch them, To taste them. He would do that and more to her. He would leave no place of her touched until she was crying out his name in pleasure. That thought alone nearly made him spill in his pants. He had to be careful, He couldn’t lose control too quickly. He wouldn’t do that to his beautiful mate before him.

His hands moved back to her bra circling her nipple through the fabric. Her breath catching slightly.

“Are you fond of these?” He asked. Letting her feel that fire in his gaze. He gestured to the bra and panties. Reminding him of the red of his siphons.

“I got it so you could do what you wanted with it.” She admitted, a mischievous smile on her face. as if she knew where his mind was. What he wanted to do with this particular outfit.

“I love the sound of that.” He growled, his hand going to the front of her bra, tearing it off and exposing her hardened nipples. “Because it’s getting in the way of you being bare before me.“

His hands yanked her underwear down Enough to where they hit her ankles. tying them there so she couldn’t move. Her body now fully exposed to him. Looking at her with his desires gaze. The body he had had multiple times, so much so that his scent seemed like a permanent part of her. His mate. The love of his life.

“Will you be good for me Nesta?” He asked tilting your her chin. He was entirely too clothed. And all he wanted was to strip down and stroke himself at the image of her there, waiting for him to do what he pleased with her. Knowing that there were so many possibilities.

“Yes General Cassian.” She promised, He grasped her hair, fingers i Tsing in that gods damned braid of hers as he pulled it out, her hair tumbling down past her breast.

“I want your hair down sweetheart.“ He pulled her hair crashing his lips down to hers, tongue sweeping in her mouth before he pulled back. “I’ll never tire of how you taste on my tongue. Though your mouth isn’t the only place I want to put my tongue.”

A small whimper escaped Nesta’s throat.

“Patience sweatheart, I’ll devour every inch of that beautiful sex of yours as soon as I’ve had my fill of you.“

He went to the table, eyeing the contents on it. All the choices she had laid out. He knew Nesta had never really experimented with all these things. Had seemed to grab everything she could get her hands on.

A small smile played over his lips as he picked up one that was double sided. He had never tried double penetration with his beautiful mate. But he knew it was one of her many fantasies.

He toyed with it glancing between it and her. Her glance looking eager.

He held it to his hard length, smirking the slightest bit.

“It may not be as big as I am, but it’ll get the job done until I’m ready for you.“ Cassian teased, her delectable scent filling his senses before he grabbed some oil off of the table along with the lubricant coating the toy so it would slid into his mate easier. although he guessed she had no trouble getting wet.

“Cassian.” She pleaded. Her patience wading, he set the toy down, the toy now glistening from the lubrications as Cassian gazed upon Nesta. her nipples hardened. Her sex soaked at the mere thought of everything he was going to do with her, that body of hers more than ready for him. but Cassian had always loved to tease Nesta. He wanted to see what her limits were. See how much she would beg for him to touch her, to sate that sex of hers until all she saw were stars.

Cassian’s hands went to his leathers, slowly undoing the pulls and the stays of them glancing at her waiting gaze as his cock sprang free. erect and patiently waiting. He pumped himself, hand sliding along his length slowly as she licked her lips remembering his taste. How she loved it when he fucked her mouth. He would have to do that later. when she wasn’t bound.

His shirt was next getting rid of it in one fail swoop, his naked body on full display for her. His length aching to be buried inside of her. He grabbed the jar, lathering his hand with the oil that smelled faintly of coconut, as he moved towards her breast. taking one of her nipples in his mouth as one of his hands kneaded the other. A moan falling from her lips as she tossed her head back exposing that beautiful throat of hers.

He grazed her nipple with his teeth softly enough to grab her attention. until her nipple was pebbled underneath his mouth, her other breast slick with oil As he moved to it., the taste of coconut filling his mouth as he licked and sucked at it. his hand massaging her other breast, her breath quickenin. He pinched her nipple releasing her other one kissing down the length of her body until he was done to her sweet, sweet sex. Her scent perfuming the his nostrils. He wanted to taste her. but first.

He grabbed the lube, making sure her ass was prepped and ready,

“Ready mate?” He asked.

She nodded breathing hard, He lightly pinched her clit making her gasp.

“I want you to tell me you’re ready sweetheart.“

“Yes. Gods yes.”

He grabbed the dildo, examining it as he pressed a button, the vibration going up his arms. He chuckled. testing the vibrations counting ten different settings Wanting to test all of them.

He moved the toy to her center, the other end penetrating her ass as she gasped slightly at the vibration as he moved it in and out of her. Kissing the side of her hip picking up his pace with it. Hitting the button again as Nesta cried out, Cassian glancing up taking in the look on her face. Looking like she wanted nothing more than to lose herself, He hit the button again. Nesta screaming out in pleasure as Cassian lost his careful restraint. Grasping the underwear at her ankles and tossing them to the side.

He placed her feet on his shoulders hitting a different angle as tears of ecstasy sprang in her. his tongue flicking her clit making her cry out.

“Cassian.” She cried. “Cassian, I-“

“Does it feel better than my cock inside you?” He asked shoving it deeper, her gasps turning to sobs. The dildo coated with her wetness. Cassian would do anything taste her release, but he had to get her closer.

“No.“ She gasped out. “Nothing-is better-than you.“ She breathed, her words coming out gruntled. He licked her again.

“Do you want me inside of you Nesta?“ He said shoving it deeper. “Do you want to finish with me inside of you?”

“Yes.“ She cried out as Cassian pulled the dildo out of her, tossing it to the side, tasting her delicious sex of hers until he had his fill before he lifted her up wrapping her legs around his waist, her wrist still bound as he sheathed himself inside of her filling her to the hilt as she moaned clenching around him. Knowing that she was close. He leaned in closer to her ear, biting down on her neck, sucking on it until an impression was left on her skin. As he tasted her his lips moving up her neck until he got to her ear whispering,

“Hold on tight, Nes.”

He thrusted up into her, His name falling from her lips moving in and out of her moving with her body. giving her exactly what she wanted, what they both wanted.

He quickened his pace, bucking his hips harder. licking, biting, and sucking on her neck. Her moan and sobs in her lips. Her legs shaking with the force of her gathering orgasm, her wetness coating his cock.

”Come for me mate. Let that release from that glorious sex of yours coat me. I’m so close Nes, So, So close, fall into oblivion with me sweetheart.“ He thrust harder hitting the exact spot he knew would send her over the edge, as her eyes rolled on the back of her head. Noises damn near primal falling from her mouth.

“Fuck, Nesta, Fuck, I love you.” He gasped out crashing his mouth to her, tasting every inch of it and her mouth as he felt her clenching around him, Her releasing around him in sweet ecstasy as his own release spewed in her. Pumping her until his seed was spent. until every inch of her was filled with him.

She leaned her head against his shoulder as he pulled the ribbons on her wrist, releasing them with ease as he carried her to the bed, still inside her, Not wanting to lose the feel of her as he laid her on the bed. kissing her through sweet nothings and words of admiration until he pulled her to him, pressing a kiss to her hair.

“Best birthday present ever. ” He mused as him and his mate feel into a blissful sleep.

[rogue-durin-16]

THINGS NEVER GO AS PLANNED (Part V/VII)

"the perfect excuse"

Summary: After Fred's death, George and Y/n lean on each other to carry on. This wasn't the most brilliant idea, though; George was pretty much in love with the girl, and Y/n— well, she had been dating Fred prior to the Battle of Hogwarts.

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Genre: angst mostly

Tags:

Suggested by: @crispykittywitch

Things never go as planned: @sarcasticallywitty15 @beautyschoo1dropout @s1ut4georgeweasley @sunshineandshadowss @missmulti @weasleywh0r3s @andreaareynoso @georgeweasley19 @dianarte

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa

Warnings: language, drinking, makeout getting spicy

A/N: idk what happened here, this was not planned I'm just horny ig??? Anyway have this part that was definitely not meant to unfold like this but hey, I'm not mad, so enjoy <3

Prologue: the aftermath

Part I: sleepless nights

Part II: candy floss

Part III: shock therapy

Part IV: wrong name

Part VI: the downfall

Part VII: apart

Epilogue: I still love you

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

I checked myself in the mirror one last time before heading to the kitchen. There was no actual need of dressing up nicely, since we both would be spending New Year's Eve at the flat, but since Ginny, Ron, Harry and Hermione were coming, we decided to clean up for our guests.

"Hmm, smells good." I leaned on the doorframe, observing George finishing cooking.

"These past five months' messes paid off." He joked, grabbing a kitchen rag to clean his hands. "Can you keep an eye on it while I go get read..." He trailed off automatically when his gaze landed on me. "Woah— okay." He cleared his throat, eyes slightly widened at my outfit, and I couldn't help but enjoy a bit too much his attention. "You look really good— is that the new blouse?"

"Yup." I replied, a coy smile dancing on my lips as I stepped to him and picked the kitchen rag myself. "C'mon, go clean up nice for our guests."

It only took him a couple of minutes, since he might have had his suit ready.

"Mind lending a hand with the tie, love?" He requested, stepping into the kitchen with his attention on the shirt's cuffs which he was buttoning up.

Damn, he looked so good; it wasn't even fair.

"Y/n?" He chuckled, finally looking up.

"Uh— yeah! Sure." I threw the rag over the counter and led my hands to the tie, taking my time to make the knot; maybe I wanted an excuse to have my hands on him.

We stayed in silence until I was finished; it wasn't an awkward silence, but it wasn't comfortable either— it was, in fact, stifling.

"There you go." I more like whispered instead of talking, sliding my hands down his chest briefly. His eyebrows were knitted, trying to decipher my demeanor; his hands caught one of mines before they fell limply on my sides, and for a second, I thought he was about to do something really stupid —something I had wanted to do for the last three months—, but then the bell rang and we stepped away from each other, going to receive Ron and Hermione as if that moment hadn't happened at all.

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

GINNY'S P. O. V.

I took a sip of my brandy as we laughed at Ron's joke, my eyes drifting to Hermione and then to Y/n's lap, where Teddy rested, giggling and blabbering nonsense at George's hand movements and funny faces.

George had confided me quite ashamed that he fancied Y/n about two years ago, but I knew the looks he gave her were of something more than a little crush, if you may.

Had I not known Y/n, I would be worried she was projecting Fred onto the younger twin, but the girl knew better than that, so when we got to experience how their domestic life unfolded during New Year's Eve, I felt nothing but happiness at the way Y/n laughed at my brother's jokes, or how she stared at him in pure adoration as he played with Tonks's and Lupin's baby.

"You're getting him waaay too exited, mate." Harry chuckled, extending his arms for Y/n to hand him the toddler. "He needs to go to sleep."

Teddy, who we had put to sleep in Y/n's room shortly after dinner, had woken up right before the New Year came to us, and, since he refused to go back to sleep, Y/n took on the task of entertaining him. George joined as soon as he witnessed Teddy's hair going rainbow-like at Y/n's actions.

"Actually, I think we all need to go to sleep." I said, leaving the glass on the table.

"Boo, you're supposed to be the youngest!" Y/n whined, earning a laughter from the rest.

"Ginny's right, though." Ron stood up and all of us followed his lead. "It's really late and I don't want mum to see us drunk when she wakes up."

"Not a good impression to make on your future mother-in-law, oi, Granger?" George's tease made Hermione's cheeks flush, murmuring an 'idiot' before giving him a hug. "Take care, all of you." He added after he and Y/n had hugged everyone goodbye.

The five of us exited the flat and apparated in the Burrow's yard in silence until Harry asked, "are they together now?"

"We don't know." I confessed with a grimace.

"Well, together or not, they're definitely fucking."

"Ronald!" Hermione exclaimed, slapping her boyfriend's arm.

"I just said what everyone else's thinking." He defended himself, and none of us could deny it.

READER'S P. O. V.

We began to pick up the dirty plates, glasses and cutlery in order to take them to the sink and leave them there to wash them tomorrow.

"Oi, look what I found." George wiggled a firewhiskey bottle at me from the living room.

Without thinking twice, I grabbed the half empty ice cream tub I had just left over the counter, a couple of clean glasses, and I made my way to George.

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

"—and that was only in our... Third- no- fourth! year?" He finished the story, joining me in the giggling; I didn't doubt the story was funny, but I was sure it seemed ten times funnier because of the alcohol. "Wait- where were you back then?" He knitted his brows in confusion.

"A year below you." I laughed.

He snorted. "Below me," he took a look at his empty glass before reaching for the bottle with a laugh "hell, I wish."

I couldn't help but laugh too. "Sure you do." I wouldn't have laughed if I were sober, but then again I highly doubted he would have said that if he were sober. "Y'know- you can have me below you anytime you want, Georgie." I replied between lazy giggles, leaning on him so he would pour more firewhiskey into my glass too.

A loud snort left George, triggering one of my own. "Sure, darling." He loosened his tie and tossed it to the floor. "Why's it so hot in here?"

"Mmm... Must be 'cause of you." I threw my head back to stare at the ceiling. "Or... maybe's just the alcohol." I groaned at the feeling of my head spinning, and sat upright again to chunk the now full glass in one go. "I'm hot too."

"Oh darling... You can't even imagine how much— I mean... Every day— but tonight you look partic... particular...ly? Dashing." George was leaning back against the armchair's feet, his eyes closed, his cheeks flushed and an amused smile dancing on his lips. "Why must you be so bloody perfect?" I found myself staring a bit too much at the ginger. "There's still a conscious part of my brain that knows I shouldn't be saying this shit." An idle chuckle left his chest and one of his eyes peeked open. "I'm gonna blame the alcohol, aight?"

Right, the alcohol —The perfect excuse.

I laid my glass on the floor and got up, stumbling towards him. "Oi, careful— you don't wanna trip and fall." He laughed, steadying me with his hands as I plopped down on my knees besides him. "We won't make it to St. Mungo—" With one hand on his shoulder and one on his cheek, I went for it, cutting him mid-sentece in the process.

It was one hell of a sloppy kiss, and I was so concentrated on doing it right that I didn't even hear the moan I sent into his mouth.

What the hell are you doing?, My mind screamed.

I attempted to pull away, but I felt George's hands on my sides, clutching my clothes in his fists to tug me flush against him. I took the cue and did my best to climb onto his lap and straddle his legs without losing balance.

What we were doing felt terribly wrong, and, the morning after, we would regret this little slip so much, but in that exact moment I could only think that his lips tasted like fire whiskey, strawberry and chocolate, and that the quiet moans slipping through them between the kisses were loud enough to quiet down everything in my head.

I stopped to take a breath, resting my forehead against his; our eyes locked, pupils blown out.

Heavy pants left our lungs, as if we had just run a marathon. It felt like the kiss had made a bomb go off, one that we had unconsciously been building up those past months.

It took an instant of looking at each other to know we thought the same; we wouldn't get this opportunity ever again, so at that point, we might as well carry on and pray for it not to be too bad in the morning.

This time it was George who smashed his lips against mines, teeth clashing and tongues going in each other's mouths. The situation was escalating quick; a tad too quick, I daresay.

He cursed and mumbled something about too many clothes, proceeding to pull his shirt over his head with my help, given that he could only do so much with that amount of alcohol in his sistem.

I could do even less, though. It was proven when I first attempted to get rid of my blouse.

I struggled to unbutton it, an awkward, dizzy silence falling among us before his hands travelled to mines "Wait... Lemme..." He frowned, finding that simple task as frustratingly difficult as I did. "Bloody..." A browned off grunt left his swollen lips.

"Tear it." I mumbled, letting my hands roam over his chest.

"You sure?"

I hummed, somehow impatient. "We'll fix it tomorrow." I captured his lips once more.

We'd fix it tomorrow.

I felt his hands fisting my shirt by the cleavage before giving it a firm tug, making my gasp; I wasn't expecting all the buttons to come off in one go, given his drunken state.

I didn't even have time to discard the piece of clothing before his lips attacked my neck, shutting my brain off instantly due to the sensation.

"You want this?" He whispered in my ear, his hands going up from my thighs to my back until they reached the clasp of my bra.

Not trusting my voice, I nodded vigorously, making the world shake around me so hard that I had to shut my eyes.

I felt a feather kiss on my shoulder and his fingers unfastening the bra; he was doing his best to be smooth, which wasn't a lot, but I could tell he was trying hard.

"You're so sweet." I blurted out as his fingertips ghosted over my skin while he removed the top from my body.

He tried to reply something, but articulating kept getting harder and harder as we went deeper into it, so he gave up on words and so did I; at least until his fingers slid between my legs and started to tease me through the fabric of my remaining clothes.

"Bed." I whimpered, unconsciously rocking my hips against George's hand whilst my own travelled to his crotch, feeling his erection and consequently earning a moan from him.

"D'you think we'll make it?" He inquired, already retreating his hand briefly so we could stand up.

Soon enough we were stumbling to my room, hands all over each other, bumping against the furniture and walls due to not being able to stand upright.

When we fell on the bed and tossed the rest of our clothes to the floor, it began to dawn on me how bad this was going to be.

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

GEORGE'S P. O. V.

My head was pounding violently in my skull; that's most likely the reason why I woke up. It took a moment for the blurry memories of the previous night to flash into my mind.

"You feel... so good..."

"Fuck- George— faster, please..."

"Y/n— I'm-"

"No." I shoot up, not acknowledging that Y/n was still asleep by my side. "Fuck no. Nononono." I ignored the terrible headache caused by the hungover and, grabbing my clothes, I exited the room. "No fucking way." I kept mumbling to myself, stalking to my dorm to throw on some fresh clothes.

I sat on my bed, my hands running through my locks, bringing back the memories of Y/n's tugs on them in the process.

"What the fuck did I do." I almost choked on the sentence.

[sonasnowdrop]

Idea 13: Things Vanessa does to get over Vanny, a sequel to Idea 6 (kinda)

As has been previously stated, I consider Vannys personality to effectively be the polar opposite of Vanessa's, with some exceptions. I wanted to expand on that with this idea that Vanessa would try to do things as differently from Vanny as possible. She does this in order to help convince herself that they were not the same. Here is a list of some of those things, ranging from minor to major, in no particular order:

She stops wearing hats indoors and uses a different hair style (something easier to do than a damn ponytail, which according to Roxy, "hasn't been popular since the 70s". So Roxy gives her a friendly makeover). She also decides to start using rainbow extensions again.

She creates a small bowl of candy and puts it on her kitchen counter. This seems to directly contradict the therapy tapes heard in-game, but fret not, as I have a potential reason for this. I believe that the therapy sessions happened in a weird sort of "transition period" between Afton possessing Vanessa and Vanny being created. This period was defined by Afton trying to heavily influence her behavior to make Vanessa more obedient. She wouldn't notice anything being amiss, because Afton would suppress her existing memories and try and create fake ones to support and explain her new behavior. Eventually Afton would get tired of this and create Vanny to control Vanessa and get rid of all the smoke and mirrors, fully restoring Vanessa's memories and behavior back to normal. So in a nutshell Vanny hated candy while Vanessa quite liked it, so this is another way she differentiates herself from Vanny.

She tries to avoid getting slightly upset or mad at anyone, but especially children. Vanessa is absolutely TERRIFIED of losing her temper in front of children, because then that means they will be scared of her. This makes Vanessa, in her mind, just as bad as Vanny. This is because Vanny was constantly irritated and annoyed by everything, and preferred to yell at people and insult them. Thus Vanessa now speaks softly, almost never raising her voice above a normal speaking volume. She also apologizes for everything she says that she thinks is an insult,, even if it isn't. Anger was basically one of the only 2 emotions that Vanny felt. The other emotion was…

…pure ecstasy, which Vanny only felt when she was murdering her victims while also wearing a deranged smile. As a result, she tries to find more reasons to be happy and smile softly in her life. This is comparatively easy, (although it is still a lot more difficult to be happy and positive then it was before) the animatronics help her by being available to talk to. Luis also assists by just being supportive and he is especially great for whenever she needs some comforting words of encouragement. He and Gregory also offer to play some games with her, which she really appreciates because of the company.

She stops wearing clothes with long sleeves like sweatshirts and jeans. The stuffy feeling they give her feels way too much like HER costume, something she only discovered after she tried wearing "her" work uniform for the first time after being freed. She had a flashback, had a small panic attack, and quietly sobbed in her bedroom for 30 minutes. She ended up just showing up out of uniform, but no one really cared so it was fine.

She starts making cupcakes and cooking again, something she loved doing before this mess happened (check the cut FNAF AR emails.) Everyone at her workplace loved them, Luis even had some made for him especially ;). Chica even asks for her recipe after Vanessa brings some to eat at the pizzaplex and the 2 end up sharing multiple recipes with each other and become great friends.

After being freed, Vanessa is extremely hesitant to be near knives, let alone hold one, for obvious reasons. However she really wants to get over this fear she has because she wants to start cooking things since that was a hobby she had before… before.

Vanessa would start by having Gregory take out a knife and put it on her kitchen counter before he then leaves the area.

Then once she gets acclimated to the knife's presence, she would move a bit closer.

She would repeat these steps until she is within arms reach of the knife. Now comes a more difficult step, touching it

Vanessa moves her arm very slowly towards the knife, gives it a small poke, and then quickly darts away like she touched hot coals. This repeats, each poke lasting a longer amount of time, until she is able to rest her hand on the knife.

The next step is the scariest for her, holding it. She takes it even slower, constantly reminding herself that she is in control and that nothing bad is going to happen. She manages to give it, moves it around, and then gently places it back in the drawer.

Vanessa relaxes, lets out the breath she was holding, and walks out of the kitchen.

Actually cutting something will come later, but for now this is enough.

My bad for getting to this so late- this idea Is amazingly interesting! Love the way u write!

[foxy-glamrock-roxy]

Idea 13: Things Vanessa does to get over Vanny, a sequel to Idea 6 (kinda)

As has been previously stated, I consider Vannys personality to effectively be the polar opposite of Vanessa's, with some exceptions. I wanted to expand on that with this idea that Vanessa would try to do things as differently from Vanny as possible. She does this in order to help convince herself that they were not the same. Here is a list of some of those things, ranging from minor to major, in no particular order:

She stops wearing baseball caps and starts using a different hair style. This is because it was the only style that Vanny used and Vanessa wants to avoid reminders of Vanny as much as possible. It also is just too difficult for Vanessa to do herself. Also according to Roxy the ponytail, "hasn't been popular since the 70s". So Roxy helps give her a friendly makeover, eventually deciding on simply keeping her hair down, like how she used to have it. She also decides to start using rainbow extensions again because she thought they were cute and liked how they looked.

She removes the purple nail polish she has and replaces it with the colors yellow and green for similar reasons. 

She creates a small bowl of candy and puts it on her kitchen counter. This seems to directly contradict the therapy tapes heard in-game, but fret not, as I have a potential reason for this. I believe that the therapy sessions happened in a weird sort of "transition period" between Afton possessing Vanessa and Vanny being created. This period was defined by Afton trying to heavily influence her behavior to make Vanessa more obedient. She wouldn't notice anything being amiss, because Afton would suppress her existing memories and try and create fake ones to support and explain her new behavior. Eventually Afton would get tired of this and create Vanny to control Vanessa and get rid of all the smoke and mirrors, fully restoring Vanessa's memories and behavior back to normal. So in a nutshell Vanny hated candy while Vanessa quite liked it, so this is another way she differentiates herself from Vanny.

She tries to avoid getting slightly upset or mad at anyone, but especially children. Vanessa is absolutely TERRIFIED of losing her temper in front of children, because then that means they will be scared of her. This makes Vanessa, in her mind, just as bad as Vanny. This is because Vanny was constantly irritated and annoyed by everything, and preferred to yell at people and insult them. Thus Vanessa now speaks softly, almost never raising her voice above a normal speaking volume. She also apologizes for everything she says that she thinks is an insult,, even if it isn't. Anger was basically one of the only 2 emotions that Vanny felt. The other emotion was…

…pure ecstasy, which Vanny only felt when she was murdering her victims while also wearing a deranged smile. As a result, she tries to find more reasons to be happy and smile softly in her life. This is comparatively easy, (although it is still a lot more difficult to be happy and positive then it was before) the animatronics help her by being available to talk to. Luis also assists by just being supportive and he is especially great for whenever she needs some comforting words of encouragement. He and Gregory also offer to play some games with her, which she really appreciates because of the company.

She stops wearing clothes with long sleeves like sweatshirts and jeans. The stuffy feeling they give her feels way too much like HER costume, something she only discovered after she tried wearing "her" work uniform for the first time after being freed. She had a flashback, had a small panic attack, and quietly sobbed in her bedroom for 30 minutes. She ended up just showing up out of uniform, but no one really cared so it was fine.

She starts making cupcakes and cooking again, something she loved doing before this mess happened (check the cut FNAF AR emails.) Everyone at her workplace loved them, Luis even had some made for him especially ;). Chica even asks for her recipe after Vanessa brings some to eat at the pizzaplex and the 2 end up sharing multiple recipes with each other and become great friends.

After being freed, Vanessa is extremely hesitant to be near knives, let alone hold one, for obvious reasons. However she really wants to get over this fear she has because she wants to start cooking things since that was a hobby she had before… before.

Vanessa would start by having Gregory take out a knife and put it on her kitchen counter before he then leaves the area.

Then once she gets acclimated to the knife's presence, she would move a bit closer.

She would repeat these steps until she is within arms reach of the knife. Now comes a more difficult step, touching it

Vanessa moves her arm very slowly towards the knife, gives it a small poke, and then quickly darts away like she touched hot coals. This repeats, each poke lasting a longer amount of time, until she is able to rest her hand on the knife.

The next step is the scariest for her, holding it. She takes it even slower, constantly reminding herself that she is in control and that nothing bad is going to happen. She manages to give it, moves it around, and then gently places it back in the drawer.

Vanessa relaxes, lets out the breath she was holding, and walks out of the kitchen.

Actually cutting something will come later, but for now this is enough.

This is another neat idea, not sure what else to say about this one honestly!

[sholangagaga]

Idea 13: Things Vanessa does to get over Vanny, a sequel to Idea 6 (kinda)

As has been previously stated, I consider Vannys personality to effectively be the polar opposite of Vanessa's, with some exceptions. I wanted to expand on that with this idea that Vanessa would try to do things as differently from Vanny as possible. She does this in order to help convince herself that they were not the same. Here is a list of some of those things, ranging from minor to major, in no particular order:

She stops wearing hats indoors and uses a different hair style (something easier to do than a damn ponytail, which according to Roxy, "hasn't been popular since the 70s". So Roxy gives her a friendly makeover). She also decides to start using rainbow extensions again.

She creates a small bowl of candy and puts it on her kitchen counter. This seems to directly contradict the therapy tapes heard in-game, but fret not, as I have a potential reason for this. I believe that the therapy sessions happened in a weird sort of "transition period" between Afton possessing Vanessa and Vanny being created. This period was defined by Afton trying to heavily influence her behavior to make Vanessa more obedient. She wouldn't notice anything being amiss, because Afton would suppress her existing memories and try and create fake ones to support and explain her new behavior. Eventually Afton would get tired of this and create Vanny to control Vanessa and get rid of all the smoke and mirrors, fully restoring Vanessa's memories and behavior back to normal. So in a nutshell Vanny hated candy while Vanessa quite liked it, so this is another way she differentiates herself from Vanny.

She tries to avoid getting slightly upset or mad at anyone, but especially children. Vanessa is absolutely TERRIFIED of losing her temper in front of children, because then that means they will be scared of her. This makes Vanessa, in her mind, just as bad as Vanny. This is because Vanny was constantly irritated and annoyed by everything, and preferred to yell at people and insult them. Thus Vanessa now speaks softly, almost never raising her voice above a normal speaking volume. She also apologizes for everything she says that she thinks is an insult,, even if it isn't. Anger was basically one of the only 2 emotions that Vanny felt. The other emotion was…

…pure ecstasy, which Vanny only felt when she was murdering her victims while also wearing a deranged smile. As a result, she tries to find more reasons to be happy and smile softly in her life. This is comparatively easy, (although it is still a lot more difficult to be happy and positive then it was before) the animatronics help her by being available to talk to. Luis also assists by just being supportive and he is especially great for whenever she needs some comforting words of encouragement. He and Gregory also offer to play some games with her, which she really appreciates because of the company.

She stops wearing clothes with long sleeves like sweatshirts and jeans. The stuffy feeling they give her feels way too much like HER costume, something she only discovered after she tried wearing "her" work uniform for the first time after being freed. She had a flashback, had a small panic attack, and quietly sobbed in her bedroom for 30 minutes. She ended up just showing up out of uniform, but no one really cared so it was fine.

She starts making cupcakes and cooking again, something she loved doing before this mess happened (check the cut FNAF AR emails.) Everyone at her workplace loved them, Luis even had some made for him especially ;). Chica even asks for her recipe after Vanessa brings some to eat at the pizzaplex and the 2 end up sharing multiple recipes with each other and become great friends.

After being freed, Vanessa is extremely hesitant to be near knives, let alone hold one, for obvious reasons. However she really wants to get over this fear she has because she wants to start cooking things since that was a hobby she had before… before.

Vanessa would start by having Gregory take out a knife and put it on her kitchen counter before he then leaves the area.

Then once she gets acclimated to the knife's presence, she would move a bit closer.

She would repeat these steps until she is within arms reach of the knife. Now comes a more difficult step, touching it

Vanessa moves her arm very slowly towards the knife, gives it a small poke, and then quickly darts away like she touched hot coals. This repeats, each poke lasting a longer amount of time, until she is able to rest her hand on the knife.

The next step is the scariest for her, holding it. She takes it even slower, constantly reminding herself that she is in control and that nothing bad is going to happen. She manages to give it, moves it around, and then gently places it back in the drawer.

Vanessa relaxes, lets out the breath she was holding, and walks out of the kitchen.

Actually cutting something will come later, but for now this is enough.

THESE are pretty banger, despite my grievous lack of use of her in my AU (which will be remedied in Legacy) ive always been workshopping how to make Vanessa.....Vanessa

these are great, and while i might not use it specifically, this will definitely help me get some more bearings when I actually get to later games (although my AU separates Vanny and Vanessa)

bangers 10/10

[depressing-debbie]

Oddly Specific Modern Armin Headcanons

I used to be pretty strongly anti-Armin, but he’s becoming one of my favorite characters, so enjoy <3

He’s tried like seven times to watch Coraline, but he just cannot get through it, it’s so uncomfy

He still sits in the kids section of Barnes and Noble to read because it’s less busy and there’s fun chairs

His favorite flavor of ice cream is cookie dough, especially with rainbow sprinkles

He really likes scented candles, particularly warm vanilla or ocean breeze, but he’s not allowed to light candles on his own because he will burn down the building

He saw Mikasa fold the corner of a page in her book once, and he immediately went home and made her a bookmark with a little tassel on the end

Really passionate LGBTQ ally in middle school, everyone thought he was queer (they’re right)

He would 100% let people paint his nails, and he’d be really careful not to chip the polish

Every time it rains, he has to wear his rainboots, raincoat, and bucket hat (they’re all yellow)

He puts his hair back with a lil headband to wash his face and forgets to take it off all the time

He’s such a terrible baker. He really tries SO hard because it seems so relaxing and fun, but he’s awful at it. Literally keeps trying to make chocolate chip cookies and burns them worse every single time.

Hates the pulp in orange juice. Hates it.

He had a recurring nightmare in middle school where he was shoved in a locker

He has an entire bookcase of books that he doesn’t read anymore but he just can’t get rid of, they’re too sentimental.

When he does get rid of books, he always fixes them up a bit and gives them to friends or donates them. He also likes to leave little messages in the front for the next reader

Stickers stress him out to no end. He can never decide on a place to put them, so he usually loses them before he can put them up

He loves the beach, but he’s too scared to swim in the water. He mostly just makes sand castles and collects seashells.

He also wears a long sleeve rashguard with whales on it and a bucket hat, and he reapplies sunscreen every half hour

Talks to his squishmallows. They’re basically his advisory board because they hear about all of his problems before anyone else

He has a secret social media account for pictures of seashells he’s found, and he has like five followers (all of which are his friends because it’s really not as secret as he thinks it is)

Camp Counselor Energy, even though he’s literally never been a camp counselor in his life

Carries a backpack with water, bandaids, granola bars, and books EVERYWHERE he goes. Always forgets to bring his phone and wallet, though.

He has one of those Nalgene water bottles, and he bought it because he wanted to put stickers on it, but he still hasn’t

When restaurants ask him to pick a spice level 1-5, he says zero

Bends down on the sidewalk to look at bugs, always trips the people around him

Speaking of tripping, he cannot stay on his feet for more than half an hour without falling, and he always has bruises on his knees

He was a bug collector kid. You know those little kits with like nets and magnifying glasses? He had one of those, but his collection was oddly sophisticated, like it was actually pretty impressive and organized?

Smiles at people when he passes, even if he doesn’t know them

Cats HATE him, and it breaks his heart every single time. He’s looked up exactly what to do and how to act around cats, and he tries so hard, but they always run away.

Dogs on the other hand LOVE Armin. And he loves them, especially golden retrievers.

[smallerinfinities]

something missing | feysand oneshot

a/n: oh hello! idk this just kind of....happened? it came upon me unexpectedly. I’m rereading ACOFAS and it’s snowing outside so...here’s some sugar-coated fluff laced with filth for this sinday :)

warnings: 3.3k of fluffy smut and smutty fluff

Hmmm. Feyre worried the paint brush stuck between her lips with her teeth. There was something missing from the painting. Frost and Starlight, she had called it in her mind walking through the Palace of Thread and Jewels that day before Solstice. Now, weeks later, she clung to the buzz of the early chill of winter, wanted to remember the bustling life that had turned scarce in the city. 

It was now bitterly cold—according to Mor, colder than it had been in Velaris in decades. The streets were mostly empty, quiet except for the bundled shuffling of people coming and going but rarely standing for too long. Feyre could hear the wind beating at the locked gallery door, could feel the cold pushing against the magic of her floating flames. The only thing keeping her from freezing to death in the dimming light of the Rainbow. 

Even the Rainbow had been less alive lately, artists only leaving their studios for occasional supplies. The musicians had taken to giving little salon concerts. Only the most desperate had remained busking outside. Feyre had persuaded Rhys into magicking some coins into their open instrument cases, enough to keep them out of the cold for awhile.

She shook her head and refocused on the swirls of color in front of her, the painting that might have been finished if she weren’t so set on the details of it. What’s missing?

I don’t know, but I know what I’m missing. Feyre smiled involuntarily, his purr down the bond snaking its way down her spine. 

Incorrigible. Where have you been? If you went someplace warm without me, I’m staying at the gallery and you can sleep alone in our cold bed with none of what you’ve been missing. 

Rhys chuckled. On the contrary, my love. I was in the Steppes with Az, settling a few more of the descenters down. I’ve been freezing my balls off all day. 

Feyre shivered just thinking about how cold the war camps must be, the rows of tents barely standing up to the winds. But she couldn’t resist the door he’d left open. Poor Illyrian baby, so afraid of losing something important to a little cold spell.

He sent a rude gesture down the bond and Feyre smirked, taking the paint brush from her mouth to shove into the messy bun on top of her head. She paused halfway when her mating ring caught one of the faelights behind her, setting the brilliant sapphire glittering. Ah, that’s what’s missing. 

She dipped her brush in a tiny bit of white paint and leaned into the canvas, dabbing little specks here and there, in every window in her frozen Palace. When she sat back, the effect set her eyes sparkling. The blues and reds and greens of her scene turned into glittering sapphires and rubies and emeralds. The jewels the Palace was famous for leaped off the canvas and twinkled behind the glass, worthy of the astonishment she had painted in the faces walking past.

Beautiful, he breathed, seeing the painting through her eyes. Lately, she had been leaving her mind open to him when she painted. He didn’t pry often, but she found she wanted to share a little of her process with him. Even if she couldn’t talk about some of her feelings, some of the things they left in the darkness, she could show him here in the quiet of the gallery at night. 

Feyre felt him before even the shadows could react to his winnowing. Rhys grazed the skin at the edge of her sweater, just below her neck. Shivers ran down her spine again, but not because of the cold. Her nipples hardened in response to his touch, a kindling warming low in her abdomen. 

“Hello, Feyre darling.” 

His solid presence relaxed her, the warmth of him radiating into her back. She exhaled and leaned into him as his hands left her neck to wander down her front, skillfully avoiding the hardened peaks that reached for him. Even with the stool, he still towered over her, giving him enough room to rest his chin on top of that messy bun. 

“Gods, I missed you,” he inhaled, breathing her scent, now eternally mixed with paint, “the Illyrians are such bastards when they’re being obstinate.” 

“What did you and Az have to do?” Feyre ran soothing fingers up and down his arms still covered in Illyrian leathers. 

“Nothing too taxing, just some strong words and a demonstration.” She could feel him tense up, even as his wandering hands caressed her sides, trying to find the hem of her sweater. 

“Did you kill anyone?” Such a casual question, but even with the veil of sarcasm he knew she would want a serious answer. 

“No, but let’s just say a couple of their captains won’t be flying anytime soon.” He let some of the tension he always carried after bad days melt away as he curved into her, moving to pepper her neck with sloppy kisses. 

“Rhys,” she moaned, combing her fingers through his hair that was still damp from the Illyrian snow. “Let me clean up and then you can ravish me at home all you like.”

His teeth grazed her earlobe and she bent her head sideways giving him more room. Just as his fingers finally found that hem of her sweater. Snow-cold fingers tickled the skin just above her leggings. Feyre yelped and twisted on her stool, finally turning to face him fully. His eyes were pure violet fire, taking in every inch of her, from her wild hair to her booted feet. His chest raised and lowered quicker with each passing second, the bulge in his pants evidence of his mirrored desire. She bit her lip. And he snapped. 

Fuck the house, he purred down the bond. His mouth collided with hers as strong hands lifted her from the stool. She wrapped her legs around his waist, careful to avoid his sensitive wings. His pouty lips devoured hers, a wild moan escaping him as he tugged at her bottom lip. Feyre could sense him reaching with his magic, trying to find some place to put her down so he could properly have his way with her. Out here it would be the wall between the hung paintings or the cold floor. She knew he was weighing those two options. 

There’s a table in the back room, she panted, clawing at his mental walls with the promise of what was to come. If she was honest, she wouldn’t have minded the wall, but the paintings were precious and she knew they wouldn’t be hanging for very long. He carried her, his mouth still firmly pressed against hers. She shifted her head and opened fully for him, inviting him into her mouth with a flick of her tongue against his. He tasted like citrus kissed with the bitter tang of whiskey, left over from the drink he’d had to take the edge off the demonstration earlier. 

When he kicked open the back room door, Feyre’s floating firelight followed them, immediately stoking and warming the space. 

You’re getting better at that. His praise was like gasoline on that kindling inside of her, kicking up a blazing fire that sang through her blood, through her bones. He deposited her on the worktable, only taking a second to notice the sharp scent of paint and the supplies that littered the space behind her. His lips curled, this reminds me of the cabin. Remember how messy it was?

“It was our mating,” she answered out loud, “I remember every second of that day.” I can still feel it here, Feyre took his hand and guided it under her sweater to press against her panting heart. He stepped closer to rest his brow against hers, dragging a finger down her cheek. It was a second before his soft smile went devilish, another second before she felt the wet streak where his finger had been. 

He wiggled a cerulean-tipped finger at her. 

“Rhysand!” 

He tipped his head back and roared with laughter as she slapped at his leather-clad chest. The closest jar to her was a cotton candy pink. She snapped her fingers and his leathers disappeared, leaving a perfectly sculpted tan chest for her to draw a big heart on with her fingers. 

Hmpf. Turnabout is fair play. The playful gleam in his eye sparkled as he snapped his fingers and her clothes just...disappeared. She quirked an eyebrow, I hope you’re giving those back before we leave. A low growl rumbled beneath her fingers still toying with his chest. 

I’ll take it under advisement. You might have to beg me. A wry smile formed on his lips as he dipped that same cerulean finger into the pink paint and swirled it between her breasts, a trail of purple from her throat to her belly button. Feyre exhaled heavily and leaned back on her hands, scattering some charcoal pencils. They echoed in the cold space when they clattered to the floor but she didn’t care. She was naked and Rhys was not. Her legs spread a little wider against the edge of the table, putting herself on display for him. 

“Wicked, beautiful creature.” His hot breath ricocheted off her chest where his paint marks were quickly drying. It was a struggle to keep from moaning at the touch of his fingers toying with the inside of her spread thighs, dangerously close to the liquid fire pooling between her legs. He grinned at her restraint, the muscles dancing beneath her skin. “What do you wish of me, High Lady?” 

“I wish…” she tilted her head back in a slow roll, “I wish…” When her eyes met his again, their intensity burned anew. “I wish for you to take me like you did that first time,” snapping her fingers to rid him of the last of his clothes, “no holding back.”

His knees shook like a newborn foal at the command in her words. He kneeled before her on those tattoos he’d had as a reminder for centuries. I will bow before no one and nothing but my crown. The crown he shared with her. He bowed now, as he had before, as he would many, many more times before they were through with this life. The most powerful High Lord in history sent to his knees by his Queen. 

He forced her thighs even wider to accommodate his broad shoulders between her knees. His Fae eyesight didn’t miss the way her stomach muscles clenched as he played with the sensitive skin at her hips, his fingers making a slow path to her spread thighs. He cupped the back of her knees and quickly pulled her closer to his waiting mouth. 

Her yelp turned to a deep moan when he finally tasted her. Fingers immediately weaved into his hair as her back arched off the table. Gods, you taste like honey. You’re so wet for me, Feyre. 

She didn’t have any coherent words to send back to him, just waves of pleasure licking down the mental bridge between them. He suckled at her folds, drank from her, his holy font atop his only sacred altar. She writhed beneath his fingers moving over her warmed skin, let out a groan so deep he felt it vibrate against his face when he found her peaked nipples swollen and screaming for him. He felt her toes curl against his back, stroking his wings in places that made him moan into her. 

It was the last swirl of his tongue, a figure-eight pattern from her entrance to that bundle of nerves at the apex of her folds that finally sent her chanting his name over the edge. She wasn’t sure if it was out loud, but she knew he heard her either way. His wings flared proudly, knocking over a row of easels propped against the side wall, but he couldn’t hear the noise over her heartbeat pounding across the bond. 

The force of her climax pushed her into a sitting position, her fingers still curled in his hair holding his head against her as he stroked his tongue with every wave of pleasure. Even when she was spent, her thighs trembling over his shoulders, she couldn’t neglect him. Her fingers combed through his hair and snaked down his back, busying themselves with the grooves of his wings as he sucked a mark into the inside of her thigh. She made to release him, allow him off his knees, but he growled. 

Don’t stop.

The corners of her mouth curled upward. Is it truly like stroking you...elsewhere?

Well, Feyre darling, how do you feel when I stroke that one spot near the base of your left wing?

She clenched her thighs around his head at the thought. Point taken. 

He stretched his wing in encouragement. She followed his lead, splaying her hands across the membranous skin, tracing his scars. The feeling was, well he couldn’t quite think straight. Pleasure was too tame a word to describe the white-hot fire that licked his wings every time she ran her fingers over the spines, the scars, the muscles that purred and loosened for her. She pressed in at the space between the primary spine and the muscles in his back. He moaned so loud the paint jars rippled. 

Mother above, stop. 

It’s poor form to blaspheme in such a compromising position. Feyre grinned like a cat about to pounce on its prey. This was what she had been waiting for.

Feyre Cauldron-Blessed would know. He sucked in a breath. Her hands hadn’t moved. If you don’t stop, I’m going to spill a different kind of paint on this floor and ruin all our fun. 

Such a messy Illyrian brute. But she let him go, let him rise from between her thighs and stand. He was at full attention, wings spread wide to prolong the feeling of her fingers on the sensitive skin. Even now, after almost a year with him, she still marveled that this thing between them was real. That she was his and he was hers. My mate. 

She reached for him again, low. It was his turn to chant her name. 

Rhys caught her wrists, turning her hands over. He pressed a kiss to each palm. I’m plenty primed, my love. 

Feyre wrapped her legs around his waist, forcing him closer, so close to where she wanted him. She knew he liked this position, liked to watch her respond to him. He gripped her hips and positioned himself right at the precipice, took a breath. And pushed in to the hilt. 

Their collective moans shook the little back room, shadows gathering against the walls. Rhys’s eyes were fathomless pools of violet, boring into her very soul. He opened his mind fully to her and saw herself through his eyes, felt the love and the unending desire for her, tasted herself on his tongue. 

I love you. His voice clanged through her, flipping that light switch that lived deep inside of her, that little piece of Day linked to moments of pure joy. Her skin began to glow, only growing brighter when he moved within her. Slow strokes at first, deep inside. Shadows began to lick at her light, snaking against her responsive skin, the contrast only making her shine brighter. 

His thrusts quickened, control flickering with his hips. The hands that gripped her were little more than wisps of darkness, but she could feel his claws lengthening. Feyre reached back to grip the table, but instead knocked over a full jar of paint, splashing green into her hair, onto her skin. 

She laughed, tightening around him. The snarl he released shook her very center, pummeling the dam that he was determined to break for a second time tonight. She sent paint flying through the air on a breeze, landing squarely on his chest like a bullseye on a dart board. Her giggle sent his shadows skittering. 

Laughing at a male in the throes of pleasure is unbecoming of a High Lady, he panted down the bond. 

And how would you know? There’s never been a High Lady before me. Her eyes threatened another laugh until he hauled her leg off the table and shifted his hips. Her eyes rolled back. The floating fire around them surged with her answering moans, sweat beading on both of their brows. 

His hips stuttered. He was close. Feyre reached out and ran a hand down the open gates of his mind. Rhysand, she purred. 

He looked at her, his pupils narrowing, that beast of his barely concealed in this place between pleasure and chaos. His thoughts were a rush, his senses too open to hold on to any particular thought for long. The only thing she could make out other than pure sensation in his mind was one repeated word. 

Feyre, Feyre, Feyre—

Her name. Over and over again. His tether to this world, to the light. 

Rhys. She brushed at the claws on her hips, catching his attention. Come with me. 

The roar was deafening. Anyone else would have been terrified, but all Feyre could do was launch herself over the cliff with him as he finally plunged headfirst into his own pleasure. Blazing light flashed. Her light. Her joy, covering Rhys’s darkness with her own body as he collapsed into her, panting heavily against her shoulder. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, calming the tremors that rolled through him. 

For a few moments the only sounds in the room were the crackling of Feyre’s dying fire lights and their ragged breathing. When Rhys could finally lift himself onto his hands, he just looked at her for a long moment. 

Thought for a thought? she wiped at the sweat dripping from his temples. 

He smirked at her, I was thinking that if I didn’t already know what it feels like to die, I would think you were trying to fuck me to death. 

Her answering laugh shook her whole body, down to the place where he was still sheathed inside her. Rhys hissed, slowly withdrawing. He watched her glow dim. It always did when they parted, a fact that made him equal parts proud and melancholy. She sat up and stretched, cocking her head as he snapped his fingers to clean them off enough to get to the bath at home, leaving only the paint behind. He always liked to scrub that off of her himself.

“I’m going to have to come in early to clean up,” she worried at her lip, surveying all the spilled paint. The room was a bit of a wreck. Tumbled easels, green and blue paint dripping from the table onto the floor, scattered pieces of drawing paper with distinct details from his mate’s naked body outlined in pink and purple. Rhys scoffed and snapped again, setting everything right. 

Feyre grumbled, “you still need to teach me how you do that.” 

“I promise I will, but I’m still waiting for my thought,” he said, as he snapped a third time. Her clothes reappeared in a neat pile. They both dressed as she formed the words in her mind. Words to convey the way her pulse ticked up every morning in the shade of his wing, the way her cheeks pinked with the faintest touch of his fingers on her skin. 

“Will it be like this always? Will I still want to rip the leathers off of you in a thousand years?” He walked over and took her hands, the movement of his sleek black sweater and trousers the only sound in the room. Warmth passed between them, through their clasped hands and the look he gave her. Like a thousand years was only the beginning of their forever. 

“I hope so, Feyre. I really hope so.” He pressed a kiss to her temple and winnowed them both home. 

fin.

[unmaskedagain]

Marinette: Stone Cold

Ok so i love this prompt but it took forever to get to. And as soon as I did its like suddenly I was swamped with everything. So frustrating. But I finally finished it. And I love it. @vixen-uchiha​

              Marinette was six-years-old when her parents died in a car crash. She had been at school when the vice principle, Mrs. Valmontes, stopped by and pulled her out of class. The little black haired girl had known something was wrong instantly as Valmontes had smiled just a little hard at her and much more gently than what she was known for.

           Still, she had been really surprised to see Office Raincomprix, her classmate Sabrina’s dad, waiting for her in the principle. Marinette always thought he was really nice; always jolly and quick to lend a hand to the teacher at the end of the day if he got to class early to pick up Sabrina. However, he too, seemed rather despondent when Marinette entered the room. His partner, a rookie named Lorna, looked really sad too.

           They took her down to the station where she was led to one of the back offices. Sabrina’s dad waited with her there. And then woman name Susanna LeFlont, who Marinette would later learn was a grief counselor. Then they told her.

           Susanna held her as she cried and begged and called them liars, until she couldn’t cry anymore. And then they gave her a stuffed animal, and said they would try calling her relatives to pick her up.

           They came back an hour later, saying they got ahold of her parents’ emergency contact…

           Marinette’s Uncle Jareth Dupain.

           She had frowned when they said his name because to her he had never been Jareth Dupain. No, he was always her cool Uncle Jagged. So it took her a second to remember that his real name was Jareth Dupain-Stone, her father’s younger half-brother. Marinette even briefly remember her dad mentioning having to change their emergency contact after his mom, Gina, passed away a few ago.

           He was only 20 when Marinette born and he was always a budding Rockstar so he wasn’t around too much. And 6 years later he was the biggest rockstar in the world. Still, that didn’t stop him from rushing to the police station, Penny hot on his trail, and pulled his sweet niece into the biggest hug he could.

           Jagged took his niece to the hotel room to get her settled and had Penny go back to the bakery to get some of her things. He didn’t think it was a smart idea to take her there yet; not when the wounds were still so fresh.

           Still as the twenty-six year old Rockstar stared at the small form cuddled up to Fang, he realized for the first time that he was all Marinette had in the world; the only family she had left. The only family he had left.

           So he knew, despite the lawyers taking days to contact him regarding who Marinette’s guardian would be, that it was him. Jagged was the person Tom had entrusted to protect and watch the most precious thing he had the entire world; his daughter. And he wouldn’t let his brother down.

Tom had always been the best big brother anyone could have. And when Jagged’s own father, Tom’s Stepfather (as tom’s own father had suffered a heartache when Tom was a teen), had walked out, Tom had stepped up. He showed Jagged, who was still called Jareth at the time, how to be a man. He believed in Jagged’s rockstar dream when Jagged didn’t even believe in them himself.

Jagged would do right Tom, by Sabine; he would do what they would do if the situation was reversed and they were given Jagged’s kid to care for.

He would raise Marinette as he own. And though he knew would never come close to being the father that Tom Dupain had been…

Jagged would damn well try to be.

…

…

Jagged Stone, Shattered Roses, Nightmare’s Hail Mary, Unmasked Dragon, True Born Rejects, and Emancipated Mirrors were some of the biggest rock band in the world. Whenever, they went on tour together, they were the epitome of what people thought Rock Stars were. They were loud. They partied all night. Groupies hung around everywhere. To them, it was paradise. When all the bands were invited to go on the Kings of Neverland tour, with Jagged Stone headlining, they expected very much the same as they were used to. Jagged always had the most Rockin tour bus. His parties were legendary. They came to expect it.

However, when Neon Savage (front man of the Shattered Roses), Austin Knight (Leader of Unmasked dragon and lead Guitarist), and Niklaus Bane (Lead vocalist of True Born Rejects) showed up with beers and all other sorts of alcohol the day before their opening concert for the tour, they came across something very unexpected.

Or rather someone.

A little Asian girl with pigtails in her Blue hair, a tiara on her head, in a rainbow tutu paired with a black too large Guns N Roses shirt, her hand on her hips, no shoes, and a rather large crocodile next to her.

“What’s with the ballerina?” Austin asked. He had dyed silver hair done in a stereotypical emo style, grey eyes, and too many piercings. He was slim and tall.

           Niklaus sighed in relief, “Oh good, you see her too!” He had curly blond hair, dark brown eyes, and wore mostly black. He had ripped jeans and a red tie. The tie was as red as the whites of his looked. “Why is your hair blue?”

“Because Uncle said I could,” She answered and pointed a figure at them, “You’re not supposed to be here.”

Savage scoffed, “You got that twisted, kid.” He was a bulk guy, with long dark hair, and a severe expression on his face. His arms were covered in tattoos. He played in a metal band, and it was obvious. “Where’s your mommy?”

“Dead,” The little girl said bluntly. “I live with my Uncle Jagged now. This his tour bus, and you’re not supposed to be here.” She glared at them. “Fang, Stranger Danger!”

           What happened next was a bit of a blur. One minute they were fine, the next they were being chased around Jagged’s tour bus by a rather vicious crocodile while pint-sized twerp laughed.

           Lucky for them, their yells for help were overheard by Penny and Jagged who had been working in back, “What’s going on?” Penny asked as she ran in.

“Mates, what the h. e. double hockey sticks is going on?” Jagged asked right on his assistant’s tail.

           Austin, who had jumped on top one of the shelves, gave Jagged a confused look, “Better question; what the hell did you just say?”

“Ooohhhh! There’s five bucks for the swear jar!” The little girl taunted.

           Jagged glared at rockstar, “Watch it! A Kid’s in the room!”

           Savage glared at his longtime friend, “Who the fuck do you think set Fang on us?!” He cast a dark look at the crocodile. “Stranger danger my ass! I’ve known you sent you hatched, you overgrown cheap pair of boots.”

“That’s ten buck for the swear jar!” The girl said.

“Ten bucks?” Austin frowned. “Kinda of steep for just two swear words.”

“I swear to God-” Savage growled but was cut off.

“Chill, mate,” Jagged said. “This is my niece Marinette.” He gave her a loving smile. She beamed up at him brightly. He had been taking care of her for a year now. “I told ya about her.”

“You didn’t say she was Satan!” Austin whined. Fang had bitten him, the slowest of the three, quite a lot, and he had a giant hole in his jacket.

“I’m not Satan,” Marinette huffed. “I’m a ballerina, princess, Rockstar on my way to a tea party with Duchess Rosy Sparkles, of the Unicorn Fairies. And guess what, you’re not invited!”

“Oh that’s just mean,” Niklaus complained.

“She sicked a mini dinosaur on us,” Savaged hissed.

“Yeah, well, now she hurt my feelings.”

           Jagged sighed. The guys were some of his closest friends, and by the look up the “entertainment” they brought, they were ready to raze it up like always. But things had changed. Jagged couldn’t be that guy anymore. “Marinette’s staying with me from now on,” He reminded them. “No parties on the tour. She has a bedtime. And doesn’t need to see “us” at our finest, no matter how Rockin we are.” Jagged shrugged. “Spread the world, my bus is off limits.”

The rock stars grumbled a bit but didn’t leave. They could hang with Jagged without presence of booze, weed, loud music, and groupies. It would be a little weird but they’d managed. Jagged was their friend; they’d known him before any of them became famous and stayed close well after. They hadn’t been there for him as much as they wanted to after Tom died; too many commitments, too many required appearances in different countries that had taken them away. But they were there now. And if being there for one of their best friends meant regularly chilling with a six-year-old, then they’d deal.

Savage grunted, “Austin, get rid of the booze.”

“By ‘get rid of’, I assume you meant put back in my tour bus,” The silver haired guitarist corrected.

           Niklaus raised his hand like he was a student in class, “I get the whole no alcohol thing; that stuff will kill ya. But what your feelings on pot?”

           Jagged just sighed. It was going to be a long summer.

           The three musician, and even the other Rockers on tour, slowly but surely got used to the seemingly near constant presence of a six-year-old around Jagged or running around backstage. And the swear jar was a serious thing. It didn’t count when they were singing on stage but off it and anywhere near Marinette and they found themselves forking over five dollars for ever swear word. It added up a lot. And quickly.

           Jagged’s tour bus, instead of being the Party palace it used to be, now was the chill zone. It was also the cleanest of all the tour buses. No empty beer bottles everywhere. No one random passed out anywhere. No having to watch out for throw up. No rabid fans, as Jagged had increased his security to Tony Stark worthy levels.

           All they had to do was mind their manners and remember that Marinette was very impressionable at her age.

“OH screw you!!!!!!” Savage roared as he jumped up and frantically mashed buttons on his controller. “I’m not losing!”

           They had been babysitting Marinette all day while Jagged did an interview Buzzfeed.

           Austin snickered, “Says you.” His character raced past Savage’s. Only for something to hit him and send poor little Yoshi spinning out of control. “Did you- did you just blue shell me, bitch?” He hissed at Niklaus.

“Nooo!” Niklaus said sarcastically. “Hey!!! Not nice, brat!” He told Marinette after a banana caused him to slip off the ice.

           Marinette smiled easily, but there was a determined look in her eyes. Her hair was jelled into a faux-hawk courtesy of Ashley Crimson, from lead singer for Emancipated Mirrors, an all-girl punk rock band.

“Die, scumbag!” Ashley roared as her racer zoomed by. She was a vivacious redhead. Her and her bandmates got used to being some of the only girls around that weren’t either working for one of the rock stars or were scantily clad fangirls who do “anything” to get backstage.

“You’re going down, twerp!” Savage told Marinette.

“Bite me!” She snapped back just as Jagged and Penny walked into the tour bus.

           Jagged crossed his arms, “What did you morons do to my sweet little niece?”

“Nothing!” Niklaus, Ashley, Savage, and Austin chimed together.

“Savage taught me to throw a punch, and or kill a man.” Marinette smiled happily. “I helped Austin set up a glitter bomb in Nightmare’s Hail Mary tour bus. Niklaus and I are banned from Chuckie Cheese. Ashley and I spray painted her ex boyfriend’s car. Cleo and I got arrested. We disturbed the peace!!” Cleo was a pink haired girl who played drummer from Nightmare’s Hail Mary. She had to rush off for her own interview. “Oh and we’ve only been Playing Mario kart for an hour but they each owe like a hundred bucks to the swear jar.”

           There was silence as the words were processed.

“And not one of us taught her how to keep a freaking secret?” Ashley face palmed.

           Jagged just sighed.

…

…

           For the next few years that was Marinette’s life. Austin, Niklaus, Savage and Ashley became pseudo Uncles and Aunt to Marinette.

She spent most of her childhood on tour with her Uncle; going from to place, concert after concert. Marinette was homeschooled and didn’t mind it. Jagged went on tour with a bunch of different people over the years and she got to meet all sorts musicians; Clara Nightingale, Ed Sheeran, Adam Levine, Brendon Urie from Panic! At the Disco, Taylor Swift. Her favorite were the award shows though. Through them, she got to meet all her favorite actors. And was inspired to start designing on her own clothes after seeing so many fabulous looks. She got to model and do some acting. In her free time, she ran a very popular fashion blog/youtube channel.

The press had always loved her. To them, she was Marinette Stone (Jagged didn’t want her real name released to the media). She was always on the best dressed list, frequently seen with various celebrities, and could be found on the cover of various magazine.

However, when Marinette was eleven, she begged her Uncle to let her go to school with other kids. She was getting older and she wanted to have some type of normal childhood. It took him a year to agree. Her uncle Jagged had become quite protective over the years.

So Marinette went back to Paris. She cut her hair, used her given name of Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Her Uncle bought a grand penthouse not too far away from her new school, and whenever he was gone her bodyguard, a sweet woman named Harlow who was former CIA, was in charge of her. She started at her new school with a smile on her face.

Not long after, she became the hero Ladybug.

Everything was great. She had friends, a normal social life, went to school with other kids her age. She wasn’t constantly being followed around by paparazzi. She still ran her fashion blog and had frequently updates. It was perfect.

It took two years for it to go bust.

The reason’s name was Lila Rossi.

And she was the biggest liar Marinette had ever met. And Marinette had grown up in the entertainment industry.

Lila made wild claims that the other kids just ate up. A simple google search could refute all of them. The ones Marinette could stand was always about Jagged. Like her Uncle, or an airline, would be reckless enough to let a kid race on to an airport to save a cat; not that Jagged had ever own one. Fang was territorial.

Lila made her out to be a bully, and slowly Marinette lost all her friends. Her only one left was Adrien, her partner Chat Noir. The blond and Marinette had modeled together a few times and he had recognized Marinette despite her new looked but he kept it a secret. Because of their history, Marinette developed a crush on the other and Adrien was quick to lose his crush on Ladybug once he found out it was his dear friend behind the mask.

When Marinette was exiled to the back, Adrien was quick to join her (much to Lila’s fury) and nothing could change his mind. Mostly because he was sick of Lila always touching him despite his vocal protests, and Bustier not doing anything about it.

Soon Marinette things started being messed up or destroyed; her homework, her sketchbooks and pencils, her jacket. She was tripped and called rude names. Her cellphone, (Well one of her phones. She had two; one she used as Marinette Stone. One for Marinette Dupain-Cheng; a number only her classmates had.) was filled with mean texts.

Bustier caved to demands and had her excluded from class trips and events due to being a negative influence; again Adrien decided not to go either, and Lila was Akumatized once he said this. Marinette hadn’t been surprised. Bustier always ignored the bullying and harassment clearly happening in front of her. Still, Marinette decided to start recording her classes a hidden camera on her desk, on the corner of the celling and even on top of the whiteboard behind Bustier. It was just in case anything took a serious turn.

Still losing all her friends because of a few promises and dreams of glitz and glamour had been a wakeup call. Her Uncle had warned her. Her Aunt Penny, who Jagged had married with Marinette was ten, had warned her. So did Savage, Ashley, Cleo, Austin, Clara, and Niklaus. They told Marinette to watch out for fake friends and gold diggers, coattail clingers and desperate wannabes; people who would sell out every secret she had to the paparazzi behind her back just for five minutes in the spot light. So called friends who would do anything to get ahead, to get famous.

And it was clear that’s who most of her ex-friends were. Even Lila learned the hard way. When she told Alya about her mom meeting with some important celebrity about their Go Green initiative, this wasn’t a lie as it would turn out. However, the glasses-wearing girl posted it online, despite Lila legitimately asking her to keep it a secret. Lila got in big trouble with her mom apparently.

The teacher, Bustier, was awful but she always had been. Marinette ignored it in the past because at least she had her friends. But if that witch told Marinette to be a better example one more time, it was over.

           Everything came to a head after Marinette got expelled, granted she was brought back after evidence that it was impossible for her to have cheated surfaced, and the bluenette decided enough was enough. She finally gave in and told her Uncle everything.

           Jagged was pissed. He cursed up a storm; enough to fill the swear jar ten times over and buy Marinette a car.

           It took a while to get him to calm down. And to convince him that Marinette could handle it. She had a plan.

           Still, she remembered that Uncle was a wild card.

           Friday, during lunch, Marinette was eating in the cafeteria, when suddenly the lunchroom doors burst open, “Marinette,” Jagged called as he entered, trailed by a happy Penny and bodyguards “Where’s my favorite little fashion designer?”

           Marinette just sighed.

Adrien smirked at her; looking way too amused. The jerk must’ve known. She had thought it was strange that he wanted to eat in the cafeteria. The two rarely ate on the school grounds, opting and preferring to go to local restaurants rather than deal with terrible food and pesky classmates. Still Marinette didn’t mind as long as they away from her classmates. And they did.

Kagami, Aurore, and Claude gave her perplexed looks.

           The students in the cafeteria went wild. Girls and guys screamed, and tried to get pictures. Jagged ignored them and went straight to Marinette’s table, walking passed where Bustier’s student at lunch. Alya shook Lila’s shoulder and pointed at Jagged, and loudly asked if Lila could get her an interview. Lila looked horrified.

Jagged beamed when he reached Marinette, “There you are, you’ve been ignoring my texts,” He accused. Which to be fair, Marinette had been. Her Uncle had been coming up with way too many revenge plots to be healthy. “I decided I need a new look for the VMAs; something rockin, something tasteful, something to show remind the world the amazingness that the Rock Gods have blessed them with.”

“I’m at school,” Marinette told him.

           He smirked, “Then Learn to answer a text,” The Rock star shrugged. “But fine; we can talk later. How about at my concert, yeah. You and your friends” he motioned to the kids at Marinette’s table, “Can have backstage passes. We’ll talk then. But I really want you to wow me. Maybe get a matching hat for Fang too.”

“Fang?” Adrien asked innocently. Still Marinette could practically hear see the script he was reading off of.  “Is that your cat?”

           Jagged gasped as if insulted, “Cat? Do you think I’d ever own anything as ordinary as a cat? Me? Jagged Stone?! I should be insulted, mate. I hate cats, always have. Never owned one, never will. Fang’s a crocodile. Marinette’s knows. Fang loves her.”

“That is strange,” Kagami shot Marinette a smirk which caused Marinette to nearly hiss at the betrayal. Kagami knew too?! “Lila said you did.”

“Lila?” Jagged asked. “Who’s Lila? I don’t know a Lila.”

“Lila Rossi?” Aurore offered. “The Ladyblog practically swears in an interview that Lila Rossi saved your cat from being hit by a plane or something.”

           Jagged scoffed, “What a loud of bull! Any journalist that believes that is not worth the pen they write with.” Gasps were heard. “But I heard that rumor. Didn’t know where it was from. Thanks for letting me know who I should sue. This Ladyblog and Lila Rossi will be hearing from my lawyers.”

           It was a photo finish as to who fainted first; Alya or Lila.

           Lila went home right after that. This caused the reactions of the class to be split. Half the class still defended Lila; refusing to believe their golden ticket was lying. The other half was ready to burn her at the stake; they had carried her books, done her homework, wrote her notes, nearly everything for her.

           Marinette just sat back and watched with amused eyes. If they thought this was bad, they hadn’t seen anything yet.

           That weekend Marinette Stone released a video on her blog about bullying. She had been mentioning her own trouble with bullying for months and people had asked her for more information.

           The title of the video was:

           Bullying Stone: The Expose

           In it Marinette revealed that at her school she went by Marinette Dupain-Cheng, her real name, and had a new look. She told about how much she liked school at first. And they what changed; that it all started when a new girl arrived and started telling lies about celebrities about Marinette. She told the story of how she was expelled; and just how many procedures were broken when it happened.

           Marinette used the recordings she had of class, and even showed up the horrible texts she got.

“As you can see the teacher does nothing,” Marinette frowned. “It’s all happening right in front of her and she does nothing. In the next video, you’ll see someone being sexually harassed, in front of the teacher and she doing nothing about it. And then what victim blaming looks like. Again, as a reminder, all these videos and pictures are unedited.” She had offered to blur Adrien’s face but he declined, and even appeared in the video too and talked about his own experience.

           At the end of the video, Marinette looked straight at the camera, “Anyone can be bullied; famous or otherwise. If you’re being bullied; speak up. Tell your parents, your Aunts, your Uncles, your siblings, your cousins, teachers who you know will actually do something about it. I waited too long to tell someone. I regret that. They thought what they were doing was hurting me.  They thought I’d be miserable without them. They thought I’d cry and break and come crawling back to them. They thought wrong. You can bully Stone but it takes a hell of a lot more than that to break it.”

           The video went viral in an hour. And people were angry. The people who knew Marinette and loved her were beyond furious. Jagged, even more so, as he hadn’t seen the videos before, read the texts.

           Marinette Stone’s phone blew up with texts and calls. She was tweeted and retweeted thousands of times. And she got far too many, ‘You want me to kick their asses for you. I can kick their asses for you,” texts. But she had known she’d get them.

           The Ladyblog was ripped for lies by celebrities who been lied about on site and fans.

           Gabriel Agreste, Adrien told her, was pissed about what had been happening to Adrien, in front of a teacher no less. Lila Rossi fired. And if Lila ever had dreams about working in the fashion industry, they were over.

           Savage, after berating her for not kicking Lila’s ass, told her he and the gang (Austin, Cleo, Ashley, and And Niklaus) was coming over for some Mario Kart and artery clogging fast food.

           When the call disconnect, Marinette got a text from him.

Why did you sic Fang on them?

And that’s a five for the swear jar!

           Marinette couldn’t stop laughing.    

[elphiej]

Be My Light - Chapter 3: Try to Stay Calm and Move on.

*Genre: Mafia, angst, eventual smut, slow burn

*Warnings: references to drug usage/ withdrawal, reference to sexual  situations/ sex work/ trafficking.  

Author’s note: Hi everyone! I hope you enjoy the next chapter. True to my style, it’s a little long but I think it flows well enough. Thank you for those who have commented on my previous chapters. I very much appreciate it. Thank you for your patients as well; work has been busy and I found out I had covid. I’m ok now but it did set me back a bit in finishing this. As always, please let me know what you think or let me know if you have any comments. I love them and all of you. Please enjoy!

Tag list:  @lolalalooo @bangtan-sonyeonddaeng, @barbikatherine, @mrsfortune1306, @lovesick-heart0, @iamnamjoonsbxtch, @deathkat657, @deeepvibes, @sugamonster22 , @weiinihao, @hemmofluke , @rainbow-zebra-unicorns

                              Chapter 3: Try to Stay Calm and Move On

                 Central Mercy was one of the largest and most active hospitals in all the city. And as you followed the EMTs through the trauma bay doors, the floor was full of medical staff moving about assessing patients. True to its name, Mercy didn’t discriminate and took in those that smaller practices were too scared to take: gang related cases. They feared retaliation. But Mercy was only interested in saving people. A team from the surgical floor came up beside the fast-moving gurney, listening as the EMT got them up to speed. You added some details, though your eyes never left the man on the gurney; he hadn’t regained consciousness since the police arrived and he seemed even paler than before. One of the nurses whispered that Doctor Na was waiting in the operating theatre. Henry Na was one of the top surgeons in all of Central and you felt a wave of relief knowing that the patient couldn’t be in better hands. But deep down, you knew you wouldn’t be at complete ease until you saw the young man awake and alright. And the fear of the unknown made you not want to lose sight of him.

               Before you could question why you felt so drawn to stay by the stranger, one of the nurses put her hands out in front of her and forced you to come to a stop right outside the OR doors. The doors slid shut and you were left alone in the hallway. And that is where the connection should have ended. Doctor Na and his staff would take good care of him, then he’d be transferred to another floor, and you would move on to your own patients. But you couldn’t stop the feeling of wanting to be near the stranger you found in the middle of a gun battle. But why? Could it be because you were a kind-hearted nurse or that you had just gone through a horrific experience together? You had asked him to explain what you had gotten yourself into after all. Perhaps on one of your breaks you could go visit? Was that weird? What would you say? ‘Hi, remember me? I’m the idiot who saved you after you got shot. Want to be friends?’

               Honestly, you didn’t think you were so desperate for companionship that you’d try to forge a friendship with some random guy who’s background you didn’t know. What were you expecting- a friendly relationship that could develop into something else? This wasn’t one of those romantic comedies you watched with Amber and, based on your track record, you weren’t that lucky. For all you knew, this guy was just as dangerous as the man with the cane. With the increase in U4-1A cases, was this a drug deal gone bad? It would be a shame if someone that handsome turned out to be a druggie. There were supposedly others that had gotten away; it could be a turf war. There were so many dangerous possibilities that ran through your mind. No, you sighed, it was best just to let it go. If you were meant to see him again, fate would make it so. Then, you would get some answers. But for now, it was time to get to work and move on.

               “I’m sure Jax is pulling his hair out by now,” you wondered, out loud. “Wonder what Amber’s going to say.”

               You didn’t have to wonder long, for as you turned on your heels, Amber was standing right behind you. Nerves still on edge, you couldn’t help but jump backwards. Amber was the definition of sweet but intimidating as her eyes bore into you. She was thin and lanky, completely swallowed by her baggy scrubs. She had a sharp face with short blonde hair that had been styled with an undercut. That, paired with her piercings and elaborate tattoos that decorated her arms, gave her a strong androgynous look that caught a lot of attention. She stared at you with a look of mixed anxious worry and anger.

               She crossed her arms over her chest. “Y/N,” she said, leaning in, “what the Pineapple?! Are you crazy or stupid?”

               “Is both an option,” you countered, trying to lighten the mood.

               Amber reached over and flicked her middle finger against your forehead. “I’m serious, dumbass, you really gave me a heart attack. You didn’t answer my text and I hear from the dispatch that you’re at the scene of a gang shooting?! I can’t begin to tell you the images my brain was coming up with! I thought I’d find you on a stretcher, covered in blood. I mean,” she gave you a meaningful look up and down, “more so than this.”

               You followed her gaze and, finally, got a good look at yourself. Your simple grey hoodie was covered in dark, splotchy patterns. The cuffs of your sleeves were dried dark from when you had tried to apply pressure to his wounds, there was a large stain on your side that had soaked through to your scrubs from carrying the young man behind the counter, and splattering decorated all over the rest of you. You were glad that the EMTs let you ride along in the ambulance; it would have made your bus ride more interesting looking like a slasher movie victim.

               You held up your hands, defensively. “It’s not mine. I promise, I didn’t get hurt. It’s from the real victim.”

               Amber sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. “Come on,” she said, ushering you away from the Operating rooms, “let’s get you cleaned up. I’ll tell Jax what’s going on after I get rid of these clothes. There’s no saving them.”

                ~*****************~

               Having skipped your shower this morning due to time, you were quite thankful for the warm water that eased the anxiety still rampant. Once Amber was satisfied that you weren’t injured, she brought you some new scrubs and bagged up your soiled ones to dispose of them. You were annoyed that you were losing your hoodie, since it was the only one you had since coming to Central and you hadn’t had time to go buy new clothes yet. At least you had packed the extra long sleeve shirt to help against the seasonal chill. Amber had left you a pair of grey scrubs that would help you blend in to your work shift. Once you changed, you made your way to your supervisor’s office. Jax was an older gentleman who always seemed to be on the edge of some emotion. The second he saw you, he flung himself at you and made you swear you were to never scare him to the point of turning his hair grey ever again. It took you promising five times before he let you head to your station.

               You weren’t surprised to see Amber sitting at the desk. However, you were surprised to see that she had surrounded herself with a wall of binders and notebooks while she typed away at the computer.

               “Are you preparing for an invasion?”

               “No, you have to stay away,” Amber cried in the most melodramatic tone she could muster. “You can’t come near me. Flee while you can!”

               You tried to contain your laughter with truly little success. “Okay? What happened since I showered? Were you exposed to something or are you just being weird?”

               “No, you just have to avoid me! I’m dangerous! I’m a girl with tattoos,” she exclaimed, holding her heavily tattooed arms out for display. “You have to avoid me!”

               You almost fell over from how strong you rolled your eyes. “You must have seen Mr. Young this morning.”

               “Well, someone had to since you decided to be an action star. And he was extremely disappointed to not see you.”

               You sat down in the chair next to her and wrapped your arms around her and rested your chin on her shoulder. “I’ll pop in on him later. For the record, I like your tattoos. I think they’re super cool.”

               “Don’t think you being cute with all those compliments are gonna distract me from your stupidity. What the heck were you thinking?”

               “I know,” you sighed, “I’m sorry that I worried you.”

               “Worried? That doesn’t even begin to describe that. You didn’t answer my call this morning. Then, I get a text from a random number, apparently you. Only to find out about the shooting. I had a feeling something bad was gonna happen this morning. Spill it, Y/N. What happened?” You gave your friend a quick recap from when you left your building to when the police found you behind the counter trying to keep the young man conscious. You decided to leave out the creepy encounter with the man with the cane and the encounter with the other gang member you had hit with the crowbar; you didn’t want her to worry any more than she already was. The entire time, Amber’s face was stern and she had crossed her arms over her chest. “See, this is why you should have just stayed with me at my loft. You’re all alone down there. Clearly I was right about it not being safe.”

               “Don’t be like that. I know you keep saying that you didn’t mind me staying with you, but it was time for me to start trying to live my life again. It may not be as nice as your place but it’s mine. And, this incident excluded, nothing bad has ever happened. It’s just that I couldn’t stop thinking about what I went through and being stronger than the bullies. You taught me that.”

               “Yeah but I didn’t mean going against a gun wielding psycho. It was a metaphor for the nightmares and that piece of shit you call an ex.”

               “I’ll remember that for next time.” You flashed Amber some pleading eyes and pouting lip. “I’m really sorry.”

               Amber groaned, but smiled back at you. “You’re lucky I like you. But I get one more bad feeling, I’m dragging you back and never letting you out of my sight.” She slid you a cup of coffee that you greedily took. You were sure that you had lost your tumbler somewhere at the bus stop, never to be seen again. “By the way, what was the random number you texted from? Did you get a new phone without telling me?”

               You almost choked on your coffee. You had hoped she wouldn’t have asked about that, knowing full well she was not going to be happy about the answer. You cursed at yourself for texting her from it. But with her staring at you, you knew you couldn’t get around it. You reached into your pocket and handed it to her. She, instantly, knew what it was and snatched it from you.

               “Why do you have this still? I thought you got rid of it?”

               “I didn’t mean to grab it. I was in a hurry this morning and it fell into my bag. I left the one you gave me at home and didn’t have time to go back up and get it.”

               “But you had time to run after gun shots?” She tapped around on the screen. “All the settings are back to normal. The locations and notifications are back on, too. Did he call you? Look at all the voice mails.”

               “I didn’t call him. The last message was days ago. I just texted you and read a couple messages. Don’t give me that look, Amber. I was just curious. I have no desire to call him or see him. I’m starting to get somewhat normal. Last thing I want is to fall back into a bad mind set. I just read a few texts to see what he was saying while I was walking. I swear, that’s all. Don’t worry about the settings. He’s not as smart or as tech savvy as you. He couldn’t grasp the concept of emojis, I doubt he’s gonna try anything you’re thinking of. I honestly just needed a phone for today. When I get home, it’s getting shut off and it’s going away for good.”

               “He’s such a scuzzball, trying to still contact you after all that.  This would be less stressful if you gave me his address. I’ll kick his ass up and down the coastline for what he did.”

               “I don’t doubt that. But I have to listen to the group’s advice and just let it go. And I think it’s time I try to focus on other things. That’s the way I’m gonna start to really get better, right?” You had been saying that for a while now, not really knowing how to move on or if you could. But something had changed. You couldn’t help but think back to the gang member, and how he reminded you of Daniel in those last moments you were together. There was a sense of relief and freedom that you just couldn’t help but relish in. It had almost been a cathartic experience that your body needed, the strength to take back yourself. To give back what you felt, to let all that rage and hate that you held deep inside out. It may not have healed you completely, but it was a start.

               The two of you started going over the case load for the day. Even as short staffed as you were, Amber had taken care of most of the early duties: checking on patients, dropping off medicine, and dealing with Mr. Young. You started going through the new files that were stacked on the station while Amber read the report from some of the other floors. It was interesting to see what was happening elsewhere in the ever-busy hospital. There was nothing about your gunshot victim yet, and you crossed your fingers that he was going to be alright. No news was good news, you figured. Amber had started talking about the new U4-1A cases that had been admitted since you were last there. There were four more cases since your last shift. And one of the new cases didn’t make it past 2 days. U4-1A was a highly addictive drug that played off of peoples’ want to feel good and exploited it to deadly consequences.

               “I can’t believe how many cases there are now.”

               “Tell me about it. It’s the new hot thing on the streets. Everyone wants to find ‘Euphoria’.”

               You gave Amber a confused look. “Find ‘Euphoria’? Is that what they call it?”

               Amber grabbed a paper and wrote it out. “Yeah, it makes sense when you look at it and read it out. Change the 1 to an I, and it says euphoria. It sounds better when you’re trying to score without drawing attention, I guess. Remember that one guy who was going through withdrawals at the underground club? He kept asking me if I could ‘help him find Euphoria’.”

               “Seems way too intense for a club drug. If it’s supposed to be like ecstasy and make you feel really good, why does it make you go through the worst kind of side effects and an even worse withdrawal?”

               “The theory the cops believe now is that it was made, primarily, for the sex trade industry.  Very little doses make you feel nice and all that. But pure U4-1A does all that and more. It needs to work its way out of the system fast else it causes heart failure and other bad things. Whoever made it added chemicals that affect the brain and senses, so the user loses all inhibitions and is in a constant state of intense arousal.  So much so that the user is willing to do anything to find a release with anyone. I heard Mary, the lady who’s been on the most U4-1A cases has had to do a lot of things just shy of actually fucking them. That considered, it makes sense that it would have started in the sex industry; a willing participant is better than one that fights in their eyes.”

               It was true that U4-1A, or Euphoria, made people feel euphoric and intensified the pleasure of touch. But from what you had heard from Amber and some of the other nurses, when the patients are under the influence of the powder, they beg anyone to do any kind of sexual act to help them chase the feeling. Whatever sick bastard who created it made it so the user couldn’t find relief on their own, either.  Another hospital had thought that if the patients were aroused that it should be enough to let them handle it on their own, since it seemed release was the way to increase the heart rate and move the substance through the system. But the first few patients were in distress for hours until their hearts gave out from the effects of the chemicals in their blood. Doctor Na had been trying to see if any kind of physical activity, outside of sexual, could be the key to rehabilitating the Euphoria addicts. But it hadn’t seemed to be working. With more cases rising, there didn’t seem to be a treatment unless you had only the smallest amount. And survivors from the withdrawal seemed to be just as slim. The patients went through intense fevers, tremors, breathing problems, and pain without the substance. One of Central’s patients didn’t last two days of withdrawals.

               “I’m telling you,” Amber went on, drawing you out of your thoughts, “I don’t care who or how many are rocking my world or how long since my last date. No orgasm is worth dying for.”

               You let out a small chuckle at her attempt to push away from a not-so-fun topic. You nodded your head in agreement, though you couldn’t really remember the last time you had experienced anything other than a kiss from your ex. You could feel Amber’s eyes on you as you shuffled through the rest of the files.

               “So, speaking of orgasms,” she segwayed, leaning over with an eyebrow arched, “since you seem to be ready to start making some changes in your life, when are we gonna get you out for a date night?”

               “I didn’t say I was ready for a relationship.”

               “Whoa, who said anything about a relationship? I’m just saying have some fun, get a dinner, meet someone and start getting more confident with yourself. I have some friends I could set you up with. All of them are sweet and know I would kill them if they tried anything.”

               You hadn’t really thought about dating or anything like that. You had been so focused on healing your mind and getting settled into a new routine that it hadn’t even crossed your mind. You want to tell her ‘No’ but you found yourself considering it. Maybe it would be a good idea to just try to hang out with someone other than Amber. “I don’t know…,” you mused.

               That was all Amber needed. “Let’s just imagine. What’s your type? I mean, besides the complete opposite of your ex.”

               “I don’t really think I have a type. I know that Daniel was my friend and we were always together, so I think that’s why we started dating. But I don’t think I have one other than being a nice guy.”

               “Okay, let’s think about this. How about my friend Bryce?” You made a face, remembering the one time you met Eric when Amber and you went shopping and he spilled his drink all over you. “Okay, maybe not. How about Lee or Michael?”

               “They’re nice, I think.”

               “Oh, what about Dean from the kitchen staff? He’s so hot!”

               “The guy with the guitar and the smooth voice? The one who flirts with everyone and shows off his tattoos? Yeah, he’s definitely hot. Maybe too hot for someone like me. I feel like you two would fit together better.”

               “Stop that, you are so cute. I’d date you. I’d even give you a kiss goodnight.” Amber moved in to kiss you on the cheek, only to find her rolling chair being pushed by your foot. “Fine, see if I kiss you ever again. How about Eric from the pediatric ward? I’ve seen you two talk and he’s really easy to be around. Ooh, or Chris? You know, the one with the cute accent and hot body to match? I think you two would be able to reach your own version of euphoria.”

               “Ok, I’m done with you. You are ridiculous. I have patients to get to. And, even if I didn’t, I would rather get hit on by Mr. Young than have you start talking about me and some random guy.”

               Amber busted out laughing as you grabbed some charts and all but ran from the desk. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep workshopping it. This is just the next project in the ‘make my precious friend feel normal’ plan.”

               Despite the way your day had begun, your shift was free of any real excitement. And to be honest, you were happy to have a normal shift. You handed out medicine when it was time, changed the dressing of a girl who had been in a car accident, and took the time to pop in on Mr. Young since he was so upset that you hadn’t been there that morning. You figured listening to the old man’s reveries from his youth was a good punishment for your tardiness. Though, as you sat there, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to the blond man. You wondered if he was still in the O.R. or if he had been moved. Were his injuries as bad as you thought or worse? You wanted to go see if Doctor Na was out of surgery and if there was any news. Stop it, you scolded yourself, stop focusing so much on that. Just do your job. Stay calm. You pushed yourself to go through the motions of your job, putting your body on autopilot as you tried not to think about him anymore. For the most part, it seemed to work; every time you blinked, you were off to the next task. Even as Amber dragged you away for a quick lunch, you focused extra hard as your friend excitedly recounted her night of online gaming, and her ever continuing feud with Seagull-eye97. Based on the color in Amber’s cheeks as she complained about them snipping her during their last dual, it was a struggle.

               By the afternoon, you had enough distractions to not think too much about the blond stranger. Amber had found out that Dr. Na was no longer in the OR, and it seemed like everything was alright. You felt some relief from such small information. While the thought to check up on the stranger popped back into your mind, you decided to stick to your plan to let the universe decide if you were going to meet again.

               And the universe had it’s funny way of making that happen.

               You were back at the station helping one of the patients get discharged. She was a nice girl who had been in a car accident and was finally being released. You were printing out the doctor’s orders and getting her prescriptions in order when one of the girl’s friends, one you had seen during visiting hours often, came to take her home. As you handed the friend the paperwork, you noticed they had matching tattoos, a Roman numeral II, on different parts of their arms. They called them friendship tattoos and you thought that was cute. Though, you weren’t sure if you would get one with Amber anytime soon. Once the girls were gone, you sat back at the station to finish up your paperwork.

               A voice caught your attention and made you look up towards the hallway that led to the elevator. Doctor Henry Na stepped off with a few other nurses, talking quietly and laughing about something you couldn’t hear. You couldn’t help but find yourself smiling at the sight of him. And not just because it further proved that he had finished up the surgery. Henry was someone you had come to be friendly with, like with Amber. He was one of the nicest people you had been introduced to and he made a point to see you on your shift. He was tall and broad, with a smile that was just as kind as his demeanor. He had shared many coffee breaks talking about things, getting your mind from whatever was making it panic, never making you feel like he was just going through the motions. You couldn’t help but feel a certain way whenever he was around, something you couldn’t remember feeling before. A feeling of safety and happiness. Amber’s conversation from earlier seemed to pop into your mind about your type of man. Based on the excited feeling that crept up into you, you couldn’t deny that you liked him. But so did everyone else in the hospital and he probably didn’t see you that way. He had glanced over towards the station and gave you a little wave as he finished his conversation. And that butterfly feeling intensified.

               “Why do you look like that?”

               Amber had the strangest ability of just appearing out of nowhere at the worst moment. You felt yourself jump and heat rise in your cheeks. You tried to hide yourself in your hands but Amber followed where you had been staring at. And a teasing smirk appeared as she put the pieces together.

               “I guess I figured out your type. Look at you going for the most eligible bachelor in this hospital. I like it;  skip the boy and go right for the man.”

               “You are so embarrassing! We’re friends. He’s just nice to me. I’m sure he wouldn’t want to be with someone with such baggage.”

               “I don’t know. You should have seen the way he looked at you when you started blushing.”

               You went to shove her away as she started making kissy faces at you, when you noticed Na shaking hands with one of the nurses and starting towards the station. Your body acted on its own in an excited and nervous frenzy, as you reached into your pants pocket and pulled out a small bottle of body spray you had brought with you after changing and ducked down. You sprayed the lily scented water over yourself, trying to rid yourself of the sterile smell of your clothes. You froze when you felt Amber’s smug and judging glance. “What? I like to smell nice and I forgot to spray some this morning after I changed.”

               “Sure, honey. Hi, Henry,” she greeted and you sat straight up.

               “Hi Amber, Y/N,” he greeted back, his gaze fixed on you. “How are things going up here?”

               “Oh you know, same old stuff. Though, I think I left my pen somewhere. I should go find it. You two talk.” And she abandoned you, throwing you a thumbs up and some faces that you had to remember to beat her for.

               “Hi, Doctor Na,” you said, “did everything go ok this morning?”

               “I feel like I should be asking you that. I heard you ran into the building with an active shooter. That’s something I never thought I’d hear you doing.”

               “You and everyone else it would seem. I just wanted to help and let my body run on autopilot.”

               “Well, it was tough in there for a bit but, because of you, our John Doe is going to see another day. He’s responding well and I had him moved from post op. He lost a lot of blood and he’s gonna be in some pain for a bit. We have him on some pain medicine that’s going to have him out for a while. But he was responding to the outer stimulus. I think they’re moving him to the room at the end of the hall. Can you just promise me that you won’t worry me like that ever again? I don’t like the thought of someone as sweet as you doing something so dangerous. How are you feeling, honestly? Anxious at all? Anything you want to talk about? I haven’t had any luck identifying that prescription yet, and my friend in the pharmacy hasn’t gotten back to me yet. So, I just want to make sure you’re good.”

               He knew your anxiety had been active since you had come to him to try to find exactly what your medicine was. His calming eyes looked down at you with concern. “I’m alright,” you said, trying to control the color in your cheeks as you tried to maintain eye contact, “when I got here, I just jumped into work so I didn’t have time to think about anything else. I’m okay, thank you, Doctor Na.”

               “I thought we talked about you calling me Henry, remember? See that’s what I like about you, Y/N. You care so much about everyone else. You really are a good nurse. I just wish you’d do the same for yourself. I suppose I’ll have to make sure you’re really ok. How about we talk about it over dinner this week?”

               You’re sure you must have looked like a deer in the headlights. “What?”

               “Well, someone who risks their own safety to help others should get some kind of reward, shouldn’t they? Figured why not let me treat you for once. How about it? Maybe we can talk about other things, too. Not work related? Maybe get to know each other better?”

               You felt like the whole world had just turned upside down. Was the most handsome doctor who you had been friendly with over the last few months just asking you out? You, out of every other good-looking person in this hospital? Did he actually ask you out? The way he was looking at you, like he was nervous you’d say ‘no’, made it seem that way. He had been extra attentive recently. And Amber was always saying you were kind of oblivious when it came to flirting having not really experienced it. You, suddenly, found yourself too nervous to say anything, and nodded. His smile returned, all wide and excited, which made you shyly smile back.

               True to her fashion, Amber came slipping back into the conversation, which you were happy with, fearing you’d burn a hole in the ground with how hot your cheeks were. “Okay, you guys look far too cute over here. Time to get back to work. Did you have a reason for coming to our side of the floor, Henry, or are you just gonna make goo-goo eyes at everyone?”

               Henry cleared his throat, trying to hide his slight awkwardness. “I was telling Y/N that we moved that patient to this floor for recovery. He should be in the last room down that hall. And I was hoping she wouldn’t mind taking this to his room?” He placed a clear bag on the station. It had the patient’s personal effects in it. “I figured that since she was with him, he might be more comfortable with someone he recognizes.”        

               You nodded and took the bag from him. “I’ll keep an eye on him for you.”

               “I’d appreciate that. Umm… I’ll get back to my rounds now, before I’m banished by Amber here. I’ll talk to my friend about that prescription and see you later, Y/N.” He turned to leave with a little wave at you and Amber. Before he got too far, he turned over his shoulder. “Nice perfume, by the way, Y/N. It really suits you.”

               He made a quick exit as Amber made a funny noise and you were alone with her gaze on you and a smile on your face.

               “You two should really get a room. Like the one at your apartment or his. I can just imagine it.”

               “You are so awful. He just asked me to get dinner. It may not even be a date. He’s just being nice, I’m sure.”

               “Please, he wants to talk about non work related stuff. Plus, I saw the way he was looking at you. He thinks you’re cute. And you are still blushing. Trust me, I know.”

               ‘We’ll see about that.” You looked at the bag in front of you. It had ‘John Doe’ written on it. There was a wallet, cellphone, a watch, and a few pieces of jewelry. The EMT’s had cut his shirt open to get to his injuries, and you were sure the rest of his clothes were being held for the police, whenever they came to get evidence and statements. You thought it was odd you hadn’t seen any since you left the construction site. You opened the bag and pulled out the wallet, hoping to find some kind of name. The wallet was empty, save for a few dollars and a key card. You reached for his phone. It was dead. You reached into your desk and pulled out a spare cord and power bank. There had to be something on there to figure out who he was or get ahold of someone who did. You plugged it in and put it back in the bag. You pushed off from the desk and made for the room at the end of the hall.

               The room was dark when you entered, save for the dim light above the bed and the glow from the heart monitor. You pushed the privacy curtain aside, and were welcomed by the sight of the blond stranger that had occupied the edges of your mind. The bed made him seem so small and his pale skin made him appear so fragile. His eyes were closed, but the steady rise and fall of his chest gave you some relief. His hair was still damp from where the staff had rinsed the blood from his hair. There was a bandage near his hairline. The cuts on his face had been treated and the bruising was much more visible now. There was an oxygen cannula tube strapped across his face and nose. And you could just see the edge of bandages peeking out from under the patient’s uniform they had dressed him in. He looked awful but he was alive, and you were so relieved you thought you might cry.

               “So, this is the man you ran into gun fire for?” Amber followed you in with his chart in her hand. “I can understand why.”

               “I’m so happy he’s ok. He looked so bad when the ambulance came. I promised him he’d be ok, that I’d get him out.”

               Amber patted you on the shoulder, giving you a sympathetic smile. “He’s gonna be fine. Hopefully, he wakes up soon, then you can stop worrying so much. And we can get a real name for him. He doesn’t look like a John. We should give him a nickname. With hair like that, I’d rather call him ‘popstar’.”

               “I think his name is Agust. Someone kept saying they were looking for Agust. I assume that’s him.”

               “He looks more like an Agust than a John.” Amber took out her pen and started making some changes. “Agust Doe. No, that sounds weird. How about just Agust D? Sounds more like a pop star name doesn’t it?”

               You nodded your head; Agust D sounded better than a blank identity. Amber placed his file at the end of the bed, and patted your shoulder. You gave a reassuring smile before she decided to leave the room. And you were alone with the blond stranger, or Agust. You took a couple steps closer to the bed, worried that he might wake up. But he didn’t; he continued to sleep in the drug induced state. In this forced, relaxed form, you couldn’t deny he was more handsome than your initial thought at your first meeting. Leaning forward over his form, your fingers reached out to check the bandage near his hairline, moving some of the stray blond hairs aside. You had no doubt that the others had done an exceptional job, but an odd sense of protectiveness made you look at everything extra close. Must be because of what happened earlier, you had concluded. There was an IV bag hanging above the bed, along with a transfusion bag replacing what he had lost. Absentmindedly, your fingers had slowly moved across his hair and down to his cheek. You were glad that it wasn’t as cold and clammy as it had been.

               “See, I told you I was gonna get you out. Now, you need to make sure you get better soon so you tell me everything,” you said with a small smile. The boy in the bed inhaled deeply, before pressing his cheek further into your light touch. The sudden movement startled you. “Agust? Can you hear me?”

               But he was still again. And your question was overtaken by the soft beep of the instruments around him.

               Suddenly, a shrill ring exploded in the room, making you jump back away from the bed as if you had been shocked. You whirled round trying to find what was causing it. Your eyes caught the flash of light on the end table beside you. It was the cell phone. Had it turned on by itself once it had enough power? Odd as it was, someone was trying to get a hold of him and you knew you should make sure they came to be with him. Maybe they knew what he was doing at the construction site and who had attacked him. You reached into the bag and pulled the phone out. The screen was flashing with a contact name, ‘God of Destruction’, and with a notification that this number had called multiple times, as well as other numbers over the last few hours. You slid your fingers across the screen and brought the phone up to your ear.

               Before you could say anything, your ears were bombarded with multiple voices all speaking in a chaotic chorus. One voice, whomever had the phone, spoke loudly over the din. “Hyung! Finally, I was so scared. Where are you? Are you okay? Tell me what the bastard did and I’ll fuck him up so bad.”

Someone else had pulled the phone closer to them. “Hyung, I’m so sorry. We should have never split up..”

Another struggle for the phone and another voice that sounded older than the last rang in over the continuing strings of conversations they were all trying to have. “Yah! Where have you been?! What were you doing, getting a coffee instead of giving us some kind of sign that you were alive?! You prick!”

The first voice must have got the phone back, as his was the most dominant voice again. “Guys, shut up, I can’t hear anything. Hyung, say something. Where are you?”

“Hello,” you responded in a small voice.

The chaotic voices all stopped, and for a moment you were scared the call had dropped. The voice seemed to drop into a serious octave. “Who is this?”

“Umm… my name is Y/N. I’m a nurse at Central Mercy Hospital. We brought the owner of this phone here after he was involved in a shooting.”

“Is he okay?” It was a different voice, sounding genuinely concerned.

“He needed emergency surgery. But we have him stable now. But he’s gonna need someone here. Are you his family or someone who can get here?”

“You said Central Mercy? What level is he on now? Who’s the doctor who saw him?” You gave him what he had asked for. “Alright, listen to me very closely. I’ll be there as fast as I can. Stay calm but do exactly as I say and it’ll be okay. Do not let anyone enter that room but you or this Doctor Na until I get there, do you understand me?”

You felt a little annoyed that he was ordering you around, but there was something in his tone that gave you the sense that this was not a joke and something to take seriously. “And who are you.”

“Call me RM.” Then the line went dead.

[hyunhour]

right behind you ] [ felix au

a/n: yoohoo! been wanting to write a yandere themed fic for the longest time and finally got around to it. note that i do not condone this sort of behaviour and it certainly isn’t meant to be glamourized. yes, this story isn’t supposed to be all sunshine and rainbows. loosely inspired by “never ever getting rid of me – christopher fitzgerald” this is for fictional purposes only! it doesn’t depict the actuality of my sunshine boy at all!

yandere!felix, barista!hyunjin, barista!reader, unrequited love, obsessive love, toxicity

tw: yandere themes

word count: 2k

walking home alone after midnight had been a common occurrence for you after taking late night shifts at work. maybe you should start taking earlier shifts instead.

—

Your steps were heavy, slugged as you dragged your feet across the concrete path. There was only the sound of the wind howling as it gently caresses you, accompanied by the music softly playing from your earphones.

The streets were dimly lit, only neon lights of pubs being a reliable source of light. All the stores that lined the pavement were closes, shutters locked shut. There was not a single soul in sight, besides yours of course. It felt lonely, but comforting, the tranquility of the serene night enveloping you in a newfound safety.

« Shuffle, shuffle. »

More shuffling.

You quickened your pace. You were dubious about whether those footsteps were yours, but they weren’t matching with yours at all.

So, you’re not alone after all.

Anxiety washed over you, goosebumps prickling at the surface of your skin. You no longer felt the peace that the night held you in, only fear and panic surging from within you. Perhaps, you were overreacting. It could very well be a passer-by, just wanting to hurry back home, like you.

You shrugged off your doubts momentarily, warranting yourself a bit of relief. Right, you are probably overreacting.

But, just to be sure. You took a sharp left turn on your heels, opposite from the usual route you took home. Just as you thought, the footsteps trailed behind you. They were slow and steady, as if it was mocking you. You could just turn, it was right behind you.

Your hands stiffened in the pockets of your jacket, gathering sweat in your palms. You know that the way down this road was going to be to your old elementary school, otherwise known as a dead end. This person had to stop sooner or later at one of the houses scattered around the area. That had to be it. You’re overthinking this all.

« Shuffle. Shuffle. »

It had been a good five minutes of you walking down this pathway. This person is still hot on your trail, close enough for you to hear them but far away enough for them to.. to?

You’re overthinking. Overreacting. Over–

“Hah,”

That wasn’t you. Your lips were firmly pressed into a tight line, which made it harder for you to breathe in the cold weather. The only sounds escaping from you was the light wheezing of your lungs from your ragged breathing.

Your legs were losing vigour, instead they were shaking. Your stomach felt knotted, the deepening anxiety further tightening it. The inky darkness of the night no longer felt welcoming, instead it began to engulf you. You felt the invisible walls closing in on you as the footsteps behind you, got closer, and closer.

Right behind you.

Just turn.

Turn and see it.

Finally, mustering all the bits of bravery inside of you, your steps came to a halt. You had to be sure. This was the only way.

The footsteps had stopped as well.

Dread twisted in your gut as you turned around, painfully slow.

Within a blink of an eye, a dark figure that you couldn’t quite make out from the lack of light, sped off to the alley right around the corner. It was quick, and it almost made you doubt yourself, that you even saw it in the first place.

All your self-doubts dissolved immediately once you noticed something had actually fallen out of the person’s hold. It flayed around helplessly in the light breeze on the concrete path. It was a handkerchief, a pale cream coloured one, delicate to the touch. Your hands briefly hovering above, before retrieving it.

Your eyes scanned the foreign object, your fingers just ghosting along the seam lines. Down the handkerchief, your finger continued to trail.

« F.L »

Were those initials? They had been sewed on in a garish red thread, completely in contrast with the cream coloured cloth.

You slipped it into your pocket without thinking much of it, your mind was clouded with pride, the fact that you were actually able to ward off the creep.

—

It has been a day since that odd incident.

Hyunjin was busying himself with making the drinks, avoiding the cashier at all costs in order to dodge the multiple girls that lined up just for him. You laughed silently to yourself as yet another girl approached you, the cashier, for Hyunjin’s help instead.

“Sorry bub, he’s busy right now.” you meekly apologized, a faint smile plastered onto your face.

The girl before you whined, her eyes glued onto Hyunjin, who was at the back of the counter. He sneered, he lost count of how many times you had to say that fixated reply to almost every customer. He almost felt bad for you.

You finished tending to all the customers, immediately scurrying over to Hyunjin to help him out with making the drinks. You were adjusting the apron around your body before Hyunjin holds an arm out in front of you.

“Don’t.” he pauses briefly, “your coffee is fucking bitter.”

Your lips part apart in shock, smacking him at his arm. He winces in pain before retracting himself and scoffing.

“I’m trying, okay?” you roll your eyes at him, not amused at his usual bluntness. He reiterates you in a mocking way, rolling his eyes in return as well.

“Where the fuck is your nametag?” he stares down at your breast pocket, where sure enough, it was empty. You were hoping that he wouldn’t realize about your missing nametag, which you left at home. “Stop cussing at work, you asshole. I promise to bring it tomorrow,” you retorted, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Are you kidding me? You had like, one job–“ he berated, a string of incoherent words mumbled under his breath. You just couldn’t be bothered to even listen to his nagging anymore, thus putting on a deaf ear and just nodding your head to whatever words he relentlessly spewed out. “I swear your nametag spends more time at home than at work. You’re lucky, boss doesn’t know.” he remarked, causing you to grunt in response.

“Boss doesn’t care, thus boss will never know.” you smirked smugly at him, before distancing yourself from him as he flings a couple more vulgar insults at your face.

You had recently just started working as a barista, after Hyunjin pestered you about being lonely at work. It was another impulsive decision that Hyunjin easily manipulated you into taking without ever doing a double take. How could you resist when he pulled out those puppy dog eyes and pouty lips? Annoying fuck.

The bell against the front door chimed, a clear indication that a new customer had just stepped foot.

“Welcome!” both you and Hyunjin greeted, softly laughing at each other because of the unplanned perfect timing.

You were ready to receive another order, probably from another hormonal teenage girl that was ready to pounce on Hyunjin.

Boy, you were wrong.

It was a man. A very beautiful man at that. He stood at the door, soft eyes meeting your tentative ones. He sweeps his silver tresses back with his hand, before offering you one of the most gingerly-looking smiles. Your heart fluttered at the enticing sight. He didn’t go straight for the cashier. His eyes darted from the menu that was on the wall behind you, and then back to you, shyly avoiding your eyes now. What happened to that confidence he strutted in with?

He lingered at the entrance for a while, taking hesitant steps as he ventures further in to the café. You had gotten tired of waiting around for him, so you decided to help out Hyunjin—this time with refilling the coffee beans into the hopper. He so stubbornly insisted upon you not making any drinks until he could properly guide you, which would be after the store closes.

“That dude is iffy,” Hyunjin mumbles under his breath, briefly turning to face the entrance of the store, and then back to you.

“Iffy? Yeah, you.” you mock, and he nudges your arm a little too hard.

“I’m serious, Y/N.” he says, before leaning down to your ear, “he keeps looking at you, and like– salivating? Not over the food, but you.” You follow him, and sure enough, the silver-haired man had been staring right back at you unabashedly before looking away moments later. “Of all things.. you?” he reiterates, putting his finger on his chin, as if deep in thought.

You almost choke at his choice of words, caught off guard by his bluntness yet again. You pinch his arm, earning a whimper from him before he returns the same pinch onto your arm, if not more painful.

“Fuck you.” you hiss under your breath, pulling away.

“I was being a nice friend, looking out for you.” he hisses in return. You and Hyunjin both bicker for a while, causing you to spill some coffee beans onto the countertop, earning another earful from Hyunjin. God, he wasn’t even the manager but he sure was niggling like one.

“May I..” a voice from a distance interrupted your bickering, and you were almost thankful for it. You stick your tongue out at Hyunjin playfully before tending to the cashier.

“Yes! How may I help you?” maybe you were a little too excited, the poor boy in front of you jumping a little, obviously surprised at your gleefulness. It was the same person that had been standing around the entrance of the café, he was also always picking at the bed of his nails with his teeth, a habit that you noticed from just a few moments of looking at him. You felt an inkling of pity for this boy.

“I’d–” he choked on his words, his cheeks reddening. You chuckled softly, this kid probably has some major social anxiety. It wasn’t new to you to receive shy customers.

“It’s okay.” you motioned for him to continue, nodding your head. His eyes locked with yours briefly, a glow of light circled around his pupils momentarily, sparse freckles adorned his pale face as he chewed incessantly on the bottom of his lip. Out of anxiety, probably.

You had to break away the eye contact, feeling tense under his watchful eyes. It had gotten a bit uncomfortable with him doing more of staring than talking. This wasn’t normal.

“I’d like..” he resumes, sucking in a deep breath, “a medium vanilla frappe.” the sides of his lips tug upwards tremulously, and his eyes begin to waver.

“That’ll be $6!” you chirped, trying to coat the awkwardness within you with glee instead. He nodded, his hands frantically fishing for change in his pockets.

You open your palm up to him, not losing notice of the way he stares at it. His eyes linger for a moment before placing his money onto your palm, his fingertips just barely grazing the surface of your skin. It all went by painfully slow. You sighed, retracting your hand. He, however, seemed a lot more happier than before. His eyes glistening still at the newfound physical interaction, although small; it was still something. A wide smile crept up onto his face.

Brushing it all off, you returned his change by sliding it over the counter. Usually, you wouldn’t be that rude but this customer particularly did actually feel iffy as per Hyunjin’s words. You took in his smile that disappeared, a solemn frown in place instead on his freckled face.

“Your name, Sir?” you questioned, readying a plastic cup and a permanent marker. He cleared his throat, “Felix.”

“Felix Lee.”

You could’ve sworn your heart had stopped beating for a moment. Moments of the previous night flickered on and off in your head, whizzing by quickly before you could even comprehend what you had just realized.

« F.L »

Felix Lee.

“I’ll be waiting, Y/N.” he coos, before backing away from you. His words, his tone and the volume of his already low voice, letting goosebumps bubbling to the surface of your skin. The familiar feeling of anxiousness washing over you once again, fear having a grip on your throat, causing you to have the inability to even interrogate him.

When did you tell him your name? Right, it must be from your nametag–

Your nametag?

Your finger ghosted over the bare breast pocket of your apron, no nametag pinned onto it. You recall only remembering your nametag once, which was your first day of work. Other than that, it was stuck at home.

This all had to be some sort of sick, sick coincidence.

[hajimariwaquartet]

There's some days that Misha just can't will himself to get out of bed.

It doesn't happen often, but when it does, he loses hold on time. The curtains aren't raised too, which means no telling of the time outside. A dull pain in his stomach is a faint reminder that he hasn't eaten since he's woken up for the... he can't remember how many times he's floated in and out of sleep.

This sucks.

Burying himself deeper in the sheets, Misha wills himself to go to sleep again. It's been an indefinite number of hours, but he still can't put this empty, ugly feeling aside. Although a positive outlook easily came to him, he was still human. He can't be all rainbows and sunshine, no matter how much he tries.

His phone vibrates, and a little chime rings out in the dark bedroom. Huh, he doesn't remember plugging his phone in. A scarred hand reaches out from under the sheets, unplugging the phone and turning it over. Misha squints at the light.

Calling: Izumi Tachibana

Huh? Director?

Misha clears his throat before picking up.

"Yes?"

"Misha!" Through the phone's tinny receiver, her voice is as clear and vibrant as ever. "Are you coming over for dinner? I have a new curry recipe that's a bit sweeter than usual. I thought you might like it!"

Misha's stomach rumbles with the mention of food, and he musters up a tiny smile. "I'm coming. Thank you, Director."

"See you!"

Misha lies in bed for a few more minutes, thinking of nothing in particular, before throwing aside the bedsheets and sitting up. A wave of dizziness strikes him when he stands up, and the phantom pain in his abdomen also pulses. Even if it's been quite a long time since that night, it still has its marks on the three of them (and Mankai, by extension).

Showering and getting dressed is a blur. Misha also drinks some water before going out. The spring air is getting warmer, almost like a herald for the arrival of summer. But it didn't mean he'll get rid of the long sleeves, he'll just wear lighter jackets. The ring on his thumb is a comfortable weight. The sunset is a beautiful orange-purple today, and there are some puddles on the pavement. Did it rain today?

Misha fiddles with the ring as he makes his way down his apartment, through the park, through Veludo Way. The Mankai dorms are bustling with energy as ever. He's greeted by a bubbly Kumon at the door, who ushers him inside the dorms.

The spicy scent of curry is already wafting through the air. Izumi waves at him from the stove. Taichi grins and waves at him, practically begging him to tutor him and Tenma on high school chemistry. Muku smiles and greets him, while Yuki lightly pushes their plate of shared snacks towards him, not looking up from his worksheet.

Misha would've never imagined tutoring kids before, but here he was, teaching Taichi and Tenma about covalent bonds, helping Yuki with English, and assisting Kumon and Muku with algebra. Omi's sugar cookies aren't as sweet as he'd like, but they tasted good either way. They weren't burnt, at least.

Hisoka immediately rushes to him with a hug as he came out of the rehearsal room with the rest of Winter, resting his chin on Misha's head. He didn't mind, after all, this was pretty normal now. Hisoka later joins Tsumugi in helping the Director in the kitchen. Chikage gives him a one-armed hug as he passes by him, going to his room to get changed.

Dinner is a lively affair, with most of them exasperated as their Director had cooked curry again. Chikage compliments Izumi on the sweeter blend, even if it still left a lingering burn in Misha's mouth. He's seen both Juza and Hisoka reach for glasses of milk earlier. He couldn't resist too, gulping down a glass too after eating.

Misha joins the others to watch one of Tenma's primetime shows. Hisoka rests his head on his lap, Misha running his fingers through his hair at a steady pace. Chikage let Misha lean against him, the sound of Chikage's heartbeats a comforting sound. The sound of the other analyzing the show and Tenma commenting on some scenes are sounds he has come to be familiar with.

With a belly full of warm, homecooked food and both of his families around him, Misha doesn't feel the need to force himself into a dreamless sleep. He falls asleep, feeling a bit lighter and less empty.

[takerfoxx]

Part three of the WN crew watches the Rebellion Story, this time stretching from the Mami in a towel scene to the sun rising after the battle with Hitomi's Nightmare.

Yes, this is the one with the Cake Song.

Reminder:

G=Gretchen

H=Homulilly

Op=Ophelia

Ok=Oktavia

Ca=Candeloro/Mami

Ch=Charlotte

...

Ca: Um.

Ch: UM!

G: Wow.

Ok: Oh, ho, ho! Hey, Candy! We interrupting something private here?

Ca: Oh, for Heaven’s sake.

Op, whistling: So…whaddya wanna talk about first?

Ch: Me! We’re talking about me! We’re getting this straightened out right now!

H: Are we even sure that’s you?

Ch: YES!

Ca: It’s her. That was her witch form.

Ch: SEE?! I KNEW IT!

G: I thought I got rid of all the witches.

Ok: Guess you missed one. And…Candeloro adopted it?

Ch: I AM NOT AN IT!

Ok: Sorry! Sheesh.

Op: Charly, chill. She didn’t mean it like that.

Ch: Ugh, I know, I know! Sorry. It’s just…What the hell?

Ca: I don’t know. I really don’t know.

Ch: So. Lemme get this straight. If for whatever reason we did not witch out and die when we did, Gretchen would’ve gone on to erase all witches from history…

G: I still don’t get it.

Ch: Except for ME, apparently! But we’re still magical girls fighting demented flying teddy bears that spawn when teenagers start angsting. And I’m just…hanging out. As a witch. Which is Candeloro’s pet for some reason? DO I HAVE THAT RIGHT?!

Op: Looks like.

Ok: You also still seem to have that thing for cheese.

Ch: Oh, great. AT LEAST THAT’S STILL AROUND! EVERYTHING MUST BE PERFECTLY NORMAL THAN!

H: Also, Kyubey is there, but seems to have lost his voice.

Ca: It’s an improvement.

Ch: Seriously, what the HELL is going on?!

Op: Do you need to take a break?

Ch: I…No, I’ll be…I’ll be fine. This is just weirding me out.

=long pause=

Ok: So, hey, Candy. About that towel…

Ca: Oh, I knew you were going to bring that up.

Op: Looks like you’ve been relegated to being Ms. Fanservice.

Ch: Just…Just hit Play. Maybe it’ll give us an explanation.

Ok: Okay…

=hits play=

G: Is this a bad time to point out that hairstyle actually looks really good?

Ca: It did get me a lot of attention. Of course, having magic made it much easier to maintain.

Op: I guess that’s why we look so fresh all of the time.

Ch: Great. On top of everything else I am also apparently an idiot that eats inanimate objects.

H: Wait. Nightmare? Is that what the teddy bears are called?

Op: Sure look…Whoa, wait.

Ok: Uh, Candy? CANDY?

Ca: Oh, I am not really going to-

=pause, then Ophelia starts laughing=

Op: Oh, man! Talk about a fake-out!

Ok: They knew what they were doing.

Ca: Oh, thank God. Or not. Why is this movie so focused on my breasts?

Op: I’ll give you two guesses.

Ca: =heavy sigh=

…

Ok: And there’s us, leaping around without a care in the world.

Op: Against a quilted sky.

Ok: Hitomi’s teenaged angst really threw everything for a loop.

G: Why the quilt, though? What does that symbolize?

Ok: I don’t know. What did the yarn symbolize? Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar!

Ch: And sometime animators take advantage of that big studio money to pump out whatever drug-induced fantasy that they ever had.

Op: Oh, hey! This version of you actually got over that guy!

Ok: “Captain Oblivious.” Heh, yup. You go, me.

G: And to think, so much trouble could have been avoided if he had just seen the cutie right in front of him.

=Oktavia loops an arm around Ophelia’s shoulders and snuggles up to her=

Ok: I like to think that it turned out all right in the end. Even this version of me agrees!

Ch: Except for him. Kinda serves him right.

G: I don’t know. I feel kind of bad talking bad about him like this. I mean, being a little oblivious isn’t really a bad thing, and he did lose a lot of important people to him in a very short period of time.

Ch: Well, when you put it like that…

Op: Yo, hey, not to change the subject or anything, but are those ballerinas that she’s got projected on the side of the building kickboxing? Because that’s honestly kind of hot.

H: Of course you would find violent dancing hot.

Op: I am what I am, and make no apologies.

G: At least these ones aren’t made of cum.

Ca: Oh, my God.

…

Ch: Oh, why am I here? What could I possibly contribute?

H: A moment ago you were complaining about not being in it!

Ch: This is worse. This is far worse.

G: Oh! Oh! We get to see the transformation scene!

Ca: Those weren’t really that elaborate. I mean, they were cool, but-Hold on.

Op: Aw, hell yeah! Strike a pose, team!

Ca: Okay, never mind. I guess in this world we made them elaborate.

Ch: Like I said: animators with way too much money and waaaaaaaay too many drugs. Prepare yourselves for a trip.

…

Ca: Oh! Oh, my.

Ch: So, uh…

Ca: No, I never danced to transform. That is…also new.

=Ophelia suddenly leans forward intently=

Op: Oh, yes, yes, yes! H-Hey, can we start this part over.

Ok: Sure.

=they restart the transformation scene=

G: So, are you…

Op: Figure-skating, yeah! Damned good, at that. Look at that spin!

Ca: I never learned figure-skating. I mean, I can skate, but nothing like this, though I suppose I have the athletic ability, and-Okay, I just exploded out of myself.

G: That outfit is pretty cool. Um, Candy? You wouldn’t mind if I asked…

Ca: Oh, fine. I suppose it’s thematically appropriate.

=Candeloro transforms into her Puella Magi uniform, complete with the hair. Gretchen cheers=

Ok: That was way quicker than the movie. And…damn.

Ca: You can stop staring at my breasts now.

Ok: I mean, sure, I can…

=Candeloro sighs and changes back. Oktavia and Gretchen both boo=

Ch: Sorry, girls. But the corset’s reserved for me.

Ok: What does that-Oh. Really?

Ch: We went going through a rough patch. We had some things we needed to come to terms with. Making pleasant associations helped.

G: I don’t get it.

=Homulilly whispers into her ear=

G: Oh. Oh.

Ca: Heh.

=Ophelia is still hunched forward and getting impatient=

Op: Yeah, this is all fascinating, but can we get back to the movie?

Ok: We’re literally talking about boobs. I thought you’d be all over that.

Op: There is dancing and you’re keeping me from it!

Ok: Okay, okay. Let’s go.

Op: Oh, hell yeah! I’m next!

G: What kind of dance is that, Ophelia?

Op: Definitely seeing some tribal elements in the first part. I think the part with the arms is…Chinese? Wish I had read up on it a bit more.

G: I’ve never seen you dance like that before.

Op: I mostly do hip-hop, but I do something similar to that when I pole-dance. It’s a lot more complex, though.

H: I bet it is.

Op: Have fun with that mental image! Still, this is giving me ideas, especially that arm thing. I think I pull that off with my illusions. Maybe it’s time to diversify-WHOA!

Ch: Why did you go all sketchy and scary?

Ca: Why did I explode out of myself twice?

Ok: Oh, okay! Here we go!

=Gretchen starts laughing=

G: Oh, my God! You’re doing Ophelia’s usual dance!

Ok: Doing it pretty well, too! Damn!

Op: I’ll say! Nice windmills, smooth transitions from palms to forearms.

Ch: You’re getting ideas, aren’t you?

Op: Duh.

Ok: And now I’m running. You know, I can’t help but feel that this me is sort of flexing on me specifically with the whole leg thing.

H: Has anyone else noticed that so far we have all ripped out of ourselves in order to transform?

Ok: That outfit is hot, though. And-Okay, that ass shot was on purpose!

Ca: Be thankful it’s not as obsessed with your butt as it is with my boobs.

Ok: No way! I wanna see it more! C’mon, zoom in on those cheeks!

Op: I strongly agree.

H: Oh, here’s me. This should be good.

G: It’s actually pretty lovely. And you do look like you’re having fun with it.

H: You know, this isn’t bad. But what am I supposed to be doing?

Op: It’s…kind of interpretive freeform, but I’m seeing some ballet elements in there as well.

H: Huh.

Op: You think of giving it a shot? Because I have someone I could call.

H: Thank you, but no. Maybe.

Op: Well, think about it.

H: I’m also tearing out of myself, I see. Oh, and that stupid clock again!

G: This is great. Can we see that part again?

Ok: You know you’re next, right?

G: Oh. Oh, no.

Ok: Okay, so…

Op: This…I’m not sure what you’d call this.

Ok: Other than adorable.

Op: It is that.

=Gretchen is blushing and hiding her face=

Ch: Okay, this is pretty cute.

G: Stop, please.

Ca: You sure you don’t recognize this, Ophelia?

Op: I mean, other than the Can-Can bit, not really. It’s more cute poses than anything.

Ch: So teenaged pop-idol.

G: Oh, God!

Op: Yeah, that seems to fit.

G: Why do all of you get the cool dances while I get…this?

H: I think it’s fine.

G: I’m not watching. Is it over, yet?

H: Well, you more of shattered glass instead of tearing out of yourself, but it’s still going.

Op: Okay, okay. It’s over, now.

G: Finally-You said it was over!

Op: It is! You’re just doing your final pose.

G: They literally covered me with hearts and rainbows!

Ok: What’s wrong with hearts and rainbow?

G: Look, I know I’m supposed to be the “cute” one, but there is a point when it becomes too much!

H: It’s your fault for being so adorable.

G: I’m not the only cute girl here. Sheesh!

H: No, you are definitely the cutest!

=Homulily starts tickling Gretchen=

G: Homulilly! Stop it!

H: I can’t help it! You’re just so cute! CUTE!

=Gretchen laughs and squirms in trying to get away, but not too much=

G: Stop it! Someone! Please! Help!

=Charlotte, who’s sitting on the other side of Gretchen, glances at Homulilly. They lock eyes=

Ch: Nope! Sorry! She’s right!

=Charlotte starts tickling Gretchen as well, who now is gasping for air=

Ok: Honestly, this is way more entertaining than the movie.

Op: Speaking for yourself. There was dancing!

Ca: You know, if you guys keep this up, then we’ll never get through the film.

G: Okay, that is it!

=Gretchen suddenly ties up Homulilly and Charlotte up with her legs and lifts them fully off the couch into the air. She sits there with her arms crossed and the two of them suspended=

G: No more tickling, or I start tickling everybody! And I have way more limbs to do it with than all of you combined!

Ok: Is that a threat or a promise?

Ch: I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Put me down!

G: Fine! Now, behave!

=Gretchen plops Homulilly and Charlotte back down into their seats and lets them go. Then she blinks and turns to Oktavia=

G: Wait, do you want to be tickled?

Ok: Well…

Op: Better not. This is an egg you do not want to crack.

G: You guys and your fetishes.

Ok: I am literally half fish, okay? We had to get creative!

Ca: Okay, I’m unpausing the movie, if it’ll get you to stop!

Op: You’re the one who literally busted out your and Charly’s bedroom get-up.

Ch: Not really. It usually has less-

Ca: UNPAUSING NOW!

…

Ok: Team pose!

Op: They always come this close to showing us what’s under those skirts.

Ch: They’re being cheeky, all right.

Ok: That pose is awesome, though. We should do that for real!

Ch: Puella Magi Holy Quintet? Not a bad name.

Op: Can’t really use it ourselves.

Ch: Why, because there’s six of us?

Op: That, and-

Ok: We’re all witches?

Op: Okay, that too, but also there is nothing holy about us.

Ch: Ah, innocent times, innocent times.

Ok: Come on, Sayaka and Kyoko are clearly doing it on the regular.

Ch: You inferred all that from your five minutes of screentime so far, did you?

Ok: I know what I’m about.

…

Ok: And out comes the violin! Subtle.

H: So…are there any people in any of those buildings that she’s wrecking?

Op: Probably.

Ok: So Hitomi is literally killing hundreds with her angsty temper tantrum.

G: Er…I’m sure she’s not!

Ca: Okay, now this part is actually pretty similar to how things used to be! Um, except for the ballroom dancing.

G: How so?

Ca: I mean us combining our abilities! Homulilly stopping time and the two of us using a combination of musketfire and arrows was actually a tried-and-true tactic of ours!

G: Cool!

Ok: So are you guys basically gonna blast Hitomi into next week?

Op: I mean, she did literally just massacre an entire city.

G: No, look! We’re fixing the city! See, we do repair the damage and make things normal again!

Ch: Obviously a very loose definition of the word “normal.”

Op: Doesn’t do a whole lot good for all the mangled corpses inside those buildings.

G: Nobody died! Sheesh.

Op: Well, not that we can see, anyway.

Ca: Pretty sure if people were actually dying it would have been brought up by now.

Ch: Okay, I’m calling it now! It’s a fake!

H: Huh?

G: What do you mean?

Ch: I mean the city! This whole…everything! It’s a fake! Like, a simulation or a dream or something. And we’re all trapped in it. The signs are all over the place.

…

Ok: That’s my girl! Kicking ass and giving good life advice!

Op: That guy is just obliviously leaving a trail of broken hearts behind him, isn’t he?

Ch: And corpses.

Ok: You know, between me turning into, well, me and Hitomi turning into that, the dude really needs to just stop dating girls and marry his violin or something. Because that’s two for two!

G: The Five Lillians? What does that mean?

Ch: This movie feels like it should come with its own appendices.

Op: Oh, did you see that smug grin? No one girl can have all that swagger!

Ok: You would suck on a juicebox in the middle of a fight.

G: Did…Did you just make a wall?

Op: Cool! That was one of my powers, right?

Ca: It sure was.

Ok: And apparently I could combine it with my swords!

Op: Oh, I bet you loved shoving your sword into my wall.

=Homulilly snorts=

Ch: I get the innuendo, but that would imply-

Ca: Please don’t finish that thought, sweetie. The porn they watch is bad enough.

…

Ch: So I guess this is the part where you all beat Hitomi to death.

Op: That would be one hell of a twist.

H: Honestly, the way this movie is going, I don’t think anything could surprise me at this point.

G: Okay, we’re all standing on swords around her, so…

Ch: Oh, great. Now I’m here-Wait.

…

G: Um…are we going to eat Hitomi or…What’s going on?

H: That does seem to be the question.

Ch: What the fuck?

…

=Charlotte suddenly leaps up and starts scrambling back on the couch up against the wall=

Ch: What the fuck! What the fuck!

Op: Did you just turn into a giant clown worm?

Ch: Candy, please. Some sense. Give it to me!

Ca: Uh, uh, well. Your…original witch self did turn into that…thing during the fight, but…

Op: You think you can maybe still do that?

Ch: No. No chance in hell.

H: I’m considerably more concerned about what we’re doing. Why are we…chanting?

Ca: I’m going to hit Play. Brace yourselves, girls. I think it’s going to get weird.

…

H: What are…

…

G: Um.

…

G: UM!

…

Ch: Guys. Guys. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.

Op: Shhh.

…

=the girls silently watch the Cake Song until the end=

Op: Pause it. Just…hit pause.

=communal long sigh=

Op: So. Anyone have anything they’d like to comment?

Ch: This…must be what losing my mind feels like.

G: Well, it was…cute.

Ok: Fucking weird.

G: But in a cute way. I…think?

Ca: I’m just going to preemptively say that I’ve got nothing. Please don’t ask me to explain. That’s not how things used to work at all.

Op: We figured.

Ca: I mean, we’d find witches, we’d transform, we’d fight the witches, the witches would die, and we’d get a Grief Seed. It wasn’t complicated! Nobody sang anything!

=long pause=

H: We’d better rewind and watch that again.

Ch: Why?

H: I have a feeling that it might be important.

Ch: To whom?

G: I agree with Lilly. They wouldn’t make it that weird without reason.

Ch: Oh, you wanna bet?

Ca: Charlotte, calm down, please.

Ch: I-Sorry. Sorry. You’re right. I’m just-Okay, fine! Let’s all take some crazy drops and watch it all over again!

=they rewind back to the start of the Cake Song=

Ch: I can’t believe they had the gall to not only keep me as a full witch but also turn me into that.

Ok: Well, I mean, it’s not like some weirdoes up and decided to turn you into a doll that…morphs into a giant clown worm. Apparently that was-

Ch: How I actually looked, yeah, I get it! It’s still creepy, though!

G: Why are we all…okay with this?

Ch: See? Exactly! If I just up and turned into a giant worm, you all would be freaking out!

Op: I would try to ride you.

=incoherent noises of disgust and irritation from Charlotte=

…

H: Okay, I think I’m starting to get how the rules of this game works.

Ok: It’s a game?

Ch: There are rules?

H: Sure! When you send the song to the next person, you name a quality about them, and that person has to come up with some kind of food that embodies that same quality! Saya…I’m sorry, Oktavia-

Ok: No, Sayaka’s correct. She’s not me.

H: Okay. Well, Sayaka started off and called herself the raspberry…for some reason.

Ok: Don’t look at me. I don’t even really care for raspberries all that much.

G: Blue raspberry?

Ok: That’s more of a flavor, I think?

H: Okay, well, she then passed it off to Kyoko, who is red-

Op: Really creative descriptor there, fishy-lips. Out of all of my qualities, you went with red? The cake should have been dead sexy! Or a fantastic dancer! Or

Ok: I probably thought up something dirty at first and had to sub it out at the last second, and red was the only thing that came to mind.

H: -And then Kyoko now passes it off to Mami, who is-

Ch: I’m sorry, loved by whom? Loved by Bebe? My name is BEBE?!

Op, singing: Rock-a-bye Bebe, on the treetop-

Ch: Shut up, shut up, shut up!

H: -er, well, that gets turned into cheese, because-

Ch: -BECAUSE OF COURSE IT DOES!

G: Do you need a break?

Ch: …no. I’m sorry. I’ll try not to freak out again.

Op: I’m gonna be honest, if you weren’t, I would be.

H: -well, anyway, Mami then passes it to me-

Ca: Though not without another close-up of my breasts, I see.

Op: I’ll give the animators credit: they know which side of the bread the butter’s on.

H: -and I’m…spinning in circles? I don’t really understand that one.

G: Well, there is the timeloop thing you were doing. That could be said to be spinning in circles.

H: There’s been no mention of that, though! And how would she know? Didn’t I keep that a secret?

Ca: You did.

G: Dunno.

Op: Maybe it has to do with how your shield has to turn for you to stop time? Maybe?

H: I don’t know. That’s kind of reaching.

Op: I do note that you seem to be the only one wondering what the fuck is going on. Like, just look at your face.

Ok: While I seem to just be having a grand old time!

Op: You know, I don’t blame you. I am starting to feel this. Cakey! Cakey! Round cakey!

G: And I’m sweet. All right.

Ok: What’s wrong?

G: It’s just having me be the cute one again. There’s more to me than just being cute!

Ch, now calmer: Maybe it’s to butter up the audience for some kind of dark twist. Like, the movie keeps making you out to be all cute and innocent but it turns out that you were the villain the whole time.

G: Really? That would honestly be kind of cool.

H: I seriously doubt that is the case.

…

Op: And here we summon a giant cake! Because reasons.

G: Is Hitomi still in that thing?

Ch: Well, if she is, then I just ate her!

H: Finally, a happy ending!

G: Oh, stop it.

Ch: Seriously though, what is my purpose in all of this? I turn into a worm, I start the song, I eat the cake. How does-

H: Oh! I think I just got it!

Ch: Huh?

H: These new enemies are called Nightmares, right?

Ch: Right…

H: Well, what do you do to calm a child who’s had a nightmare? You give them a snack and sing them a lullaby!

=pause=

Op: OOOOOOH, so that’s what was up with that explosive feast at the start!

G: So we don’t kill the Nightmares, we calm the Nightmares!

Ca: You know, as strange as that is, I do kind of wish it really was that easy. Back in the day, I mean.

…

Ok: And here I am, cradling Hitomi’s severed head! How’s that for a dark twist?

Op: It’s all part of the process.

Ok: I see she’s still clinging to Kyosuke, though.

Ca: Teen romance is complicated like that. Just because she was frustrated about his schedule doesn’t mean she doesn’t still love him. See? There she is, sleeping soundly.

G: So all’s well that ends well.

Ch: I have…a lot of problems…with describing anything that we just saw as “all’s well.”

H: So, wait, those sparkles that are coming down. Are those clearing our soul gems?

Ca: It looks like it. No grief seeds around, so I guess this is how they do it instead. I’m actually a little envious.

Ok: It does kinda seem like the idealistic version of what we went through. No despair, no need for competition, the monsters can be defeated by singing to them, and nobody turns into anything bad!

Ch: Except for me. Because seriously. What the fuck?

Op: You are not going to let that go, will you?

Ch: I am a fucking beanie baby!

G: What’s a beanie baby?

Ch: Never mind. Read about them in a book. Would take too long to explain.

…

Op: Aw, yeah! Party at sempai’s house!

Ca: Apartment. And this actually is accurate.

Ok: What, head to your place for snacks after a successful hunt?

Ca: Yes. Those were…nice. I enjoyed those a lot.

Op: We literally live together now. What’re you getting all nostalgic for?

Ca: It’s less that and more of the feelings. I had been…lonely for a while before all of you came into my life, so going from that to suddenly having so many sisters-in-arms…well, it made for a nice change.

Op: I guess that makes sense. Hey, you think that’s why Incubators made a big deal about competition? To keep us separated so we’d fall into despair faster.

Ca: I would not rule it out. Actually, if we had never learned the truth about soul gems or witches, we probably would still be alive, since we’d have each other for support.

Ok: My bad.

Ca: It’s okay. As Ophelia has pointed out many times, it all worked out in the end.

Op: Aw, yeah! Look at me getting down! Hooray for snacks!

Ca: Thank you for ruining the mood.

Op: It’s what I do. Hooray for snacks!

…

H: And the sun rises.

G: When do we sleep? I mean, seriously! Don’t we have school?

Ok: Maybe it’s a weekend.

Ca: We were more likely to get witches in the evenings, so we’d at least be in bed at a decent hour. Most of the time.

Op: Y’know, as weird as all this is, this really is beautiful. I mean, the animation is outstanding, and the scenery is gorgeous.

Ch: When it’s not totally tripping with your head and making you question everything you ever thought you knew about reality.

Op: …you okay over there, chief?

Ch: I’m sorry, guys. But can we take a break now? I seriously need a break.

G: Sure. I could use one too.

Op: …can we watch the cake song one more time first?

Ch: No.