#but i forgot to confirm it until we already in the trial

[spookberry]

Motherkuma: i can only make a spare if the mastermind says "give birth"

Me: oh one of them said something else didnt she, i should check the logs to see who the mastermind is then *proceeds to forget to do that*

[thefandomenchantress]

Okay so. I’m currently working on a post that has this detail in it, but the post is really long and what I’m sharing now is at the end. And I don’t really expect a lot of people to through what’s probably 1,000+ words to get to it. I talked about it another time, but I don’t think it really got seen because it was a reblog. So I’m sharing it here, because I think it’s actually pretty important and should be talked about.

During Ace’s testimony about David and Arei, Arei says this:

Which makes sense by itself. We the audience know Arei would definitely say that, now that we know what happened in the Infirmary with Eden and Arei.

But remember. This is Ace’s testimony. And, well, there’s something that makes this very suspicious.

Ace doesn’t think Arei wants to change before he gives his testimony.

But he should. If we believe his testimony.

According to him, he heard her say that she wanted to change and “become a good person”. To be like Eden. And yet, he doesn’t believe Eden earlier in the trial when she says that Arei wanted to change, before he hears the story about Eden, Arei, and Arturo.

Which gives us four options, listed from worst to best (based on my opinions of course):

Option 1: The creator made a mistake and forgot Ace was supposed to know about Arei becoming a good person. I hate this answer, it’s such a cop-out. I hate assuming a creator made a mistake just because I don’t understand a piece of evidence or it doesn’t fit with my current view of something. I hesitate to even include this as an option. (This came out a bit aggressive sorry I just got a little passionate).

Option 2: Ace is a dumbass and didn’t remember that Arei said that until he said his testimony. While I don’t really like this one, either, since it’s also just a way of saying it’s irrelevant and doesn’t impact anything, I suppose it does sorta fit with Ace’s ‘act first, think second’ attitude.

Option 3: Ace is the culprit and jumped on the ‘Arei committed suicide’ bandwagon when he saw a chance to avoid most of the trial. I don’t really believe this one, but it is a viable option, I suppose. Though if he was the culprit, I don’t really understand why he wouldn’t share the David secret info immediately just to throw David under the bus and hope everyone voted for him.

Option 4: My personal favorite. Ace lies in his testimony. That’s why the information in it is inaccurate and why it seems like he hastily tried to add in details he recently learned from things like Eden’s testimony without considering the fact that the way he acted earlier wouldn’t make sense if he already overheard things about them. I’ll explain a little further.

The reason I believe this one the most, is also because of David’s reaction to Ace’s testimony.

He doesn’t say “No, Ace is lying” but he also doesn’t say “Yes, Ace is correct and his testimony is true.” Instead, he does something very interesting. He confirms that Arei and him met in the relaxation room…But refuses to admit that Ace is right about the conversation they had. Instead he avoids the question and says he isn’t going to remember anymore.

Which is really weird? Right before this he went on a big speech about just admitting the truth to preserve his pride. And this is backed up later when he refuses to be called the culprit—Well, until he realizes that’s the only way to get the class to realize he’s not the culprit. Or decides he wants to die. And yet, David refuses to say Ace told the truth about his and Arei’s conversation. Which he should be doing! Like I said, he went on a tangent about how he was just going to admit the truth right before this!

Which leads one to believe that Ace told the truth about David and Arei meeting in the relaxation room. But he changed the conversation they had in some way.

I think that’s the most agreeable part of the theory. The most believable, because it has the most evidence backing it up. However, Ace’s reasons for doing what he did, and what he changed in his testimony, are where things get a little messier.

Ace could’ve changed the story so that he could throw David under the bus, since David was trying to throw a bit of suspicion on him beforehand. But that still leaves the question of why. I’m gonna do a bit of repeating from my last theory, just for a little bit. Then we get back to some new stuff.

I’m going to go under the assumption that Ace changed the conversation to be about David’s secret, when in reality it was about something else, since I think that makes the most sense. (I recognize there are probably other avenues one could take, however). But if Ace knew David’s secret without overhearing it, he could’ve just said, “Hey, I know David’s secret, it’s the manipulator one! I know because *insert reasons Arei gave in the flashback, minus seeing it over Whit’s shoulder*” and that would be the end of it.

But Ace didn’t do that. Under this theory, he made up a whole conversation to justify why he knew. And I think it’s pretty simple to see why he did that.

Ace doesn’t want to die.

Ace just almost got murdered. He’s not too eager for that to happen again, so he wants to take all precautions to avoid it. People already don’t like him, so that’s not good. But what happens if people find out he’s observant enough to figure out David’s secret by himself, just from watching David’s behavior throughout the chapter? Currently, everyone thinking he’s an idiot when it comes to basically everything is working in his favor for once, since when trying to get away with murder, you’d probably want to murder the people who could potentially solve it. Not an incompetent asshole who’ll probably just make things easier for you. The only time this doesn’t apply is when the murder is more of a crime of passion, so to speak, like Nico’s. Where they, by their own admission, didn’t even think about the trial before they tried to murder.

So if Ace wants the best chance of avoiding becoming a future victim and revealing David’s secret, he can’t admit he found out on his own…And what better way to circumvent that than pin the blame on someone who’s already dead and can’t object to his story, like Arei? Better yet, he can just use the location and set-up he already saw, just change their conversation so that they said what he wanted!

Do you really think he left his story so open-ended on accident?

He purposely left it up to interpretation as to whether David was actually as evil as the secret says, because Ace himself doesn’t actually know if he is. He gives David the opportunity to reveal that the secret was exaggerated because he has no way of knowing if it is or not. He knows David manipulates people, like how he did so to make sure his real secret wasn’t revealed. But is he truly as pure evil as the secret makes him out to be? Ace doesn’t know.

Also, this line?

“I’m right, aren’t I?” This might be confirmation bias talking, but this just straight-up sounds to me like he’s saying, “I’m right, that is your secret and all those things I had ‘Arei’ say were true, weren’t they?”

Again, this isn’t my strongest point, but Ace in this case wasn’t really ‘right’. If anything, Arei was right because she accused David. Ace would only be right if he figured out his secret, which he didn’t according to his testimony.

But maybe I’m looking into this line too much. “I’m right and what I said happened actually happened” may just be the meaning. Moving on.

(Ace accidentally predicted the Literature Girl Insane video hehe).

With this theory in mind, Ace expected David to explain his behavior a multitude of ways, but completely changing his demeanor and just becoming a major asshole? He did not expect that.

This is on more of a light-hearted note, but:

This scene would be very fitting and kinda hilarious in retrospect if this theory were true. Ace is appalled by J’s comment because the part about him eavesdropping on a conversation was literally the only part of his testimony that was true, yet J finds it the most suspicious. And J’s habit of assuming the worst of people has been used for comedic effect before, so it’s possible.

Anyways, I think that’s all. The first part, about inconsistencies in Ace’s story, is probably the most relevant, and my theorizing afterwards was more so just my opinion on things and what I think happened.

I said I thought people wouldn’t read a long post, so I made a new one…But then the new post turned really long…Whoops.

[aperrywilliams]

Green Card - Ch4: Your Life, My Life, and Ours (Spencer Reid x Fem!OC)

——————

Author Masterlist / Series Masterlist

Previous chapter < > Next chapter

——————

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!OC (Ana María González)

Series summary: What reason leads two complete strangers to marry? For Spencer, the chance of his mom being admitted into a new medical trial. For Ana María González is to get the elusive green card.

Chapter summary: Ana and Spencer think they will soon get what they were waiting for. Only one of them will. Or: this is getting more complicated than we thought.

Word Count:  5.3k

CW: Some strong words. Talking about deceased parents (Ana). Talking about dads leaving their families (Ana and Spencer). Entire Spanish sentences (you have been warned). If I forgot something, let me know.

A/N: Chapter 4 is here. I particularly enjoyed writing this one. Let me know what you think.

——————

Spencer vented enough about his relationship with Maeve that afternoon. After two more cups of coffee, Ana already knew how Spencer had met Maeve and the dynamic they had been keeping for over a year.

"You're right. Things between you two are complicated, indeed," she concluded. Spencer sighed.

"I should end it, right?" 

Ana held her hands up in surrender.

"I'm not judging you, and I'm not giving any advice regarding this. I'm the worst when it comes to romantic relationships. Too messy for me, always," Ana confessed.

"It's bad to say I'm a little relieved I'm not the only one with messy relationships?" Spencer asked, making her chuckle.

"Yeah. Not very nice of you, but understandable," Ana conceded, checking her phone. It was late, and she didn't want to take advantage of her welcome at Spencer's place. He walked her to the door, thanking her for listening to him.

After she left, Spencer plopped again on the couch. Apparently, it was confirmed talking about things brings some relief to people. That didn't mean he had any resolution, but at least he felt less overwhelmed. Ana was indeed a good listener.

They didn't talk again for a couple of days. Spencer thought it could be a time before she would get her residence. Bureaucracy is always about time.

And thinking about that, Spencer didn't get any response from Fogarty yet. That kept him a bit nervous.

But he didn't give him much of an issue either. The cases at the BAU kept him busy enough to become overly anxious. In the same way, having case after case kept him away from DC and, therefore, from the coffee shop and Ana.

The night Spencer returned to his place after a long case in New Heaven, he was skimming a new book with a cup of coffee in hand. Suddenly three loud knocks made him jump from his seat.

Opening the door, he saw Ana crying and totally drenched from the rain pouring outside. With no further question, Spencer took hold of her hand to lead her into the apartment.

"Hey, hey. Ana. What's wrong?" he asked after closing the door and inspecting Ana's face. The poor girl only could sob a babbled incoherent words. Incoherent words until Spencer paid more attention.

"Me van a deportar. Ellos - ellos me van a deportar. Estoy jodida. La cagué, Spencer. Ellos lo saben todo y me van a echar del país." (They are going to deport me. They - they are going to deport me. I'm screwed. I fucked it up, Spencer. They know all of it and they are going to kick me out of the US).

Spencer's eyes widened at the realization.

"Wait, what? How? How do they know?"

Still sobbing, Ana produced an envelope from her purse and gave it to him. It was a letter from the Immigration Office.

'Ms. Reid,

Regarding the new information submitted and after the visit of USCIS agents to your home, we instruct you and Mr. Reid to attend an Examination Interview, according to the legal faculties of US law. We'll inform you date and place of this interview as soon as our office determines it.'

"Oh," Spencer muttered. He knew green card interviews existed but didn't know much about them. What he did know after reading the letter was Jones and Gorski's visit didn't go as well as they thought.

"It's over," Ana lamented, drying her tears with her thumbs. And then Spencer snapped from his stupor.

"What?"

“Cómo que qué? Es obvio! Es imposible que vayamos a una entrevista así. No nos conocemos lo suficiente, y no podremos fingir como lo hicimos con los otros agentes, que por cierto poco funcionó. (What are you asking? It’s evident! There is no way we go to an interview like that. We don’t know each other that much, and we can’t fake the way we did with Jones and Gorski. And clearly it didn’t work either),” Ana complained, falling into crying again.

She had a point. Spencer heard that kind of interview could be very detailed. It wasn't surprising, though; the goal was to find the people lying about their marriage for the green card. Tragicomically, people like themselves.

"Ana, you need to calm down. Come on, sit here," Spencer helped her to the couch and sat by her side. "Now you need to breathe, please. Follow my lead."

As she tentatively did so, trying to subside the tears and the incipient hiccup, Spencer racked his brain, looking for a solution. It pained him to see Ana like this. He didn't even think about his own status yet.

"I'm sorry. It's my fault. I pulled you into this," Ana apologized when she found a steady breathing pattern.

"Don't say that. We're in this together, okay? I'm going to get you some water. Please, keep deep breathing," he said, patting Ana's hand before strolling to his kitchen.

While filling a glass with fresh water, Spencer's brain worked fast. The letter wasn't good news, but neither was an end road. They wanted to test them. And what do you do when you need to pass a test? Well, you study. That's what you do. Why should this be different?

Handing her the glass of water, Spencer sat again by Ana's side. The girl thanked him and downed the liquid relatively fast.

"I came here and didn't even call. I don't usually be like this. I mean, this kind of visceral and impulsive. I'm just- when I got the letter, I freaked out," Ana explained.

"I understand. And you did okay coming here. It's a lot and enough to be overwhelmed," Spencer said, taking the glass from her hands and leaving it on the coffee table.

"I guess. And I know this was a possibility, but I really thought we had pulled it off," Ana lamented, running a hand over her hair.

"We still can," Spencer pointed calmly, making Ana's head snap.

"What? You're considering we can go to the interview?"

"Yes. I do."

"But Spencer, they will ask everything about our life together. A life we don't have if you didn't notice."

"That's why we'll study."

"Study? Like for an exam?"

"Exactly."

"I know you have a Ph.D. and stuff, but this isn't something you just can memorize. I mean- yeah, maybe I could remember your mother's and colleagues' names, but it doesn't mean I know you."

Ana had a point. Memorizing facts was only part of the deal. But Spencer was determined to make it work.

"That's why we'll get to know each other to prove them wrong."

"And how do you suggest doing that? Living like a real husband and wife?" Ana laughed. But it subsided quickly when she saw Spencer's serious demeanor. "Are you saying-?" She asked, now worried about the implications.

"No. Not like that. I mean, we can improve our knowledge of each other by sharing our routines. Not doing marital life, of course, but as friends or roommates? It could work."

Ana wondered what was worse: marrying a complete stranger to get the green card or living with your stranger husband to pass an exam to get the green card. Had she a choice? Sure, she had one: running from Spencer's apartment to make her suitcase and leave the US for good. But it wasn't what she wanted.

"So, you are suggesting we should live together?" Ana double-checked. Spencer nodded.

"Until the interview. I mean- we can be roommates. I have a spare room you can use. And we can study in our free time. Of course, we can do this only if you are okay with it. If not, we can think of another thing," Spencer clarified, knowing it was a lot. It was for him, at least, but he was willing to try it.

It was absurd, but at this point, what it wasn't?

There wasn't much thinking about what to do. After talking to Spencer that night, Ana was determined to give the best interview ever to get her residence. So she accepted Spencer's offer. 

Ana kept reassuring herself with her suitcase in hand as she was about to knock on Spencer's door that Sunday afternoon.

It would be a couple of weeks. They hoped so, but there wasn't any certain. The letter said they would be notified of the interview date, and Spencer did his research, and it could be at least a matter of weeks.

Spencer opened the door and invited her in.

"Well, you already know the living room, the bathroom, and the kitchen. Please, feel free to place your things where you prefer. I'll take you to your room," he told her, walking down the hall.

The bedroom was a more decent size, larger than the room she rented. It had a small window that faced the street, and one of the walls adjoined Spencer's room.

As she scanned the place, Spencer watched her intently.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to. We can always find another alternative," Spencer told Ana, suspecting the doubts she might still have. That got Ana out of the inspection mode.

"Spencer, it's okay. You're right. It's the efficient way to go. And it will be only for a couple of weeks. It's me who would be asking if you're okay with this. This's your place. I'm the intruder here."

What Ana said was true. Spencer was used to living alone. He only shared a place when he was studying at Caltech, and it was only for a few months. After that, he got used to being alone. Even Maeve hadn't stayed more than one night when she visited.

"Don't say that. I suggested it and wouldn't if I'm not okay with it. I would tell you I am excellent company as a roommate, but I would be lying," Spencer declared, making Ana chuckle. "I assure you, though, you can feel free to be in this apartment as if it were yours. Now I'll leave you so you can settle in."

That was sweet of him, Ana thought. Sure, it was in both parties' interests this turn out well, but it still seemed to Ana that Spencer was doing more than expected.

She was left tidying her clothes and her other belongings. They agreed to start studying that night over dinner.

When Ana left the room a few hours later, Spencer had a pizza box on the table and was brewing coffee.

"It's probably not as good as the one you make, but I hope it works," he told her, pointing to the pot.

"I'm sure it will."

After eating a few slices of pizza, the conversation turned to Ana and her life since arriving in the US.

"I have been working at the coffee shop for six months now. This is my only income. I live in a small room I can rent, and I have nobody here," she recounted, sipping her coffee.

"What about your coworker? Is she your friend?" Spencer asked, biting another pizza slide.

"Who? Sarah? I guess. She is nice, but I wouldn't say she is my friend-friend," Ana acknowledged.

"And you left friends in your hometown?" 

Ana thought about that for a moment.

"Not really, if I'm honest. I'm not very friendly in general. Not here, not there. And don't you dare to judge me for that, okay?" Ana said defensively. Spencer shook his head.

"Hey. I'm not judging you. I wouldn't consider myself much friendly either, you know?" he said. Ana nodded in understanding.

"And I bet people nag you about it all the time," she filled. Spencer chuckled.

"Sort of. But now, I interpret it as a form of concern. It is not always welcomed, though."

"Oh boy, I feel you," Ana agreed, grabbing another pizza slide from the box. "My turn," she prefaced. "What about you? FBI, uh?" Spencer nodded.

"Yes. I got to the Academy when I was twenty. I started as a profiler in the Behavioral Analysis Unit at twenty-two." Ana's eyes widened.

"You fucking kidding me? How is it you were an FBI agent at twenty-two? Didn't you say you had a Ph.D.?" Ana tried to assemble the pieces.

"Uh - well. Three Ph.D., actually. I graduated from school at twelve," Spencer clarified.

"Wow. I thought Doogie Howser didn't exist!" Ana said, amazed. Spencer's brows furrowed.

"Who?" he asked. Was Ana talking about a scientist he didn't know?

"You know, the young medical doctor? The guy who performed surgeries at fourteen?" she clued, but Spencer's face showed no recognition.

"It was a famous TV show! Well, it was where I lived. With the Latin American translation, of course."

A TV show; that's why Spencer didn't hear any of it.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I don't know much about pop culture," he apologized. Of course, it wasn't the first time it happened to him. It was like a continuous remembrance of every Monday's first talk with Garcia when she rambles about her weekend.

"Don't blame you. I watched a lot of shit in my youth, to be honest," Ana dismissed, seeing the troubled expression on Spencer's face.

They talked for a few hours until the yawning came. Since they both had to get up early in the morning, they agreed to go to sleep and continue the next day.

Ana fell asleep with the idea that it had to work out no matter how strange all this was. Spencer drew the same conclusion before falling into a deep sleep.

The next morning, when Spencer came out of his room fully dressed, he noticed Ana had already left for work, leaving a pot of freshly brewed coffee on the counter and a note: 'Good morning. Here's a little treat for the hospitality.'

Spencer smiled, serving a cup and taking a sip of - in his opinion - the best coffee in DC.

When Ana returned from her shift in the middle of the afternoon, the apartment was expectably empty. Having more time than the day before, she took her time to look around. In addition to the shelves lined with books, she noted the few photographs Spencer had. In one of them, a young Spencer appeared with presumably his mother. The resemblance was undeniable. In others, with a group of people. Ana recognized some of them from the afternoon Spencer went to the coffee shop with his colleagues. But if Ana had to compare, more academic certificates were hanging on the walls than photographs. That contributed to Spencer's statement of being a man with little sociability.

She felt creepy peering into Spencer's apartment that way, but she had to learn more about him and prepare for the interview. That was the reason she gave herself, although the curiosity the pumpkin pie boy prompted in her was undeniable.

Late at night, Spencer still had yet to arrive. Ana suspected perhaps he had had to leave the city. Her suspicions were confirmed by a text message later. 'Sorry, I should have notified you sooner. I went to North Carolina on a case. I'll be back in a few days. SR.'

Spencer came back from North Carolina after four days. Exhausted, he was about to leave the BAU after the debriefing when his phone rang. Without looking at the caller-ID, he answered.

"Hello?"

"Dr. Reid? I'm calling from Dr. Fogarty's office. We want to arrange a new meeting with you and your wife to agree on the conditions for your mother's admission to the medical trial. When do you think we can schedule this meeting?"

Spencer kept flabbergasted after the call. Did that mean they had already accepted his mom? They still wanted a meeting with him and his wife. Shit. They wanted to meet Ana. He would have to ask her to come with him—this time with a complete and convincing story about them. He hoped Ana wouldn't have issues about it.

"That's great, Spencer! They only want us to make it official," Ana reassured him. "And, of course, I will go with you." Any apprehension he had was no longer there. Ana was willing, and she seemed truly happy by the news.

"We need to study then," Spencer asserted. That made Ana's smile falter. It was late already, and she had had a hard shift that day.

"Now?" Ana narrowed her eyes.

"Yes. The meeting is in two days. We need to be prepared," Spencer told her, patting the free spot on the couch.

Ana huffed but sat on the couch by his side nonetheless.

"Fine. Okay. What do you want to know today?" she asked, crisscrossing her legs, facing Spencer.

"We should start with the basics. Tell me where you were born and about your family."

Ana bit her lower lip. She wasn't keen on talking about her family but knew Spencer should learn everything about her.

"Okay. Here we go. I was born in a small town named Campanario in 1982. My father's name was Alberto González, and my mother's was María Galvez. They are both deceased."

"I'm sorry," Spencer mumbled.

"It's okay. It's been a while already. My mom died when I was twelve. My dad four years ago. I don't have any siblings, or at least that I know of. I'm not sure if my dad had any more children after he left my mom," Ana shrugged.

"So your dad didn't stay with you for too long," Spencer pointed.

"No. But enough time to not want to see him again. He left when I was nine. I only went to his funeral because I knew my mom wouldn't forgive me if I didn't. So much so I'm sure she would come to haunt me in my sleep," Ana let out a sad chuckle. Spencer looked at her, seeing the longing in her eyes. That told him Ana and her mom's bond must have been strong.

"Okay. Your turn," Ana said, grabbing a notepad and a pen from the coffee table. Spencer frowned. "What? I need to take notes. I don't have a brain like yours."

Spencer told Ana about his family and a bit of his childhood. His mom's illness and his dad leaving. What he had to do with his mom when he turned eighteen.

Many of the things he said were recounted as facts- like he was telling a story it wasn't his life. But behind the calm and steady voice, Ana could sense how affected he was for most of them. She couldn't help the comment leaving her mouth.

"I guess we both have enough daddy issues to fill anyone's gap." Once the words left her mouth, she regretted it. She crossed a line, and it was wrong. But she got confused when she saw Spencer laughing.

"You know? When I have to tell this to anyone, the most common phrases I hear are, 'Oh, I'm sorry,' 'It's so sad,' 'Poor kid,' and so on. It's refreshing to see someone trading empathetic words with a tint of irony," Spencer explained.

"Wow. It's good you see it that way. I was thinking of getting my ass kicked because of this," Ana spoke after an exaggerated sigh, prompting Spencer to shake his head and keep laughing.

The meeting with Fogarty was arranged for a Thursday at 4 pm. Ana finished her shift after lunch that day, and Spencer asked Emily for the afternoon off. Spencer picked Ana up from the apartment and drove to the sanitarium. After putting their rings on in the car, they reviewed some details they had discussed in the previous days.

"Dr. Reid. It's good to see you again," Fogarty greeted, shaking Spencer's hand before shifting his gaze to Ana. "And you must be Mrs. Reid."

"Ana Reid. Nice to meet you," Ana extended her hand to Fogarty.

After the formal greetings, Fogarty guided them into the office and invited them to sit.

"Well, Dr. Reid. As my assistant told you by phone, I wanted to review with you and your wife some details regarding your mother's placement in the medical trial," Fogarty explained.

"That means my mom got the spot?" Spencer asked for clarification, and Fogarty nodded.

"Yes, she did. Due to your current marital status and with all the other requirements filled, there does no impede for Diana Reid to getting into the program."

"That's awesome, baby," Ana happily said, squeezing Spencer's hand and looking at him.

"Yes. It is," Spencer confirmed, kissing Ana's knuckles. Fogarty smiled at the couple.

"How long have you known each other? I'm asking since I can see you have only been married for a month," the doctor asked. It was a question Spencer and Ana had rehearsed before.

"A long time, you know?" Ana started. "We met in Vegas when we were young, but after Spencer left for college, we lost contact."

"Yeah. I really thought I would never see her again. Until we found each other here in DC four years ago," Spencer added.

"You must be asking why we didn't marry before," Ana anticipated. "It was kind of my fault. I love Spencer with all my heart, but I'm not a huge believer in institutional bonds, you know? Don't get me wrong; I've been married to him in heart and soul since we reunited years ago, but doing it on paper wasn't my priority until he told me about this opportunity for Diana. That's why I considered it. He didn't want to tell me so I wouldn't feel forced to do it, but it would have been selfish of me not to if I already know I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him," Ana confided Fogarty.

The couple also agreed upon that explanation, but Ana made it so natural that Spencer was impressed. It felt less plausible when they were rehearsing it.

"You must really love Dr. Reid, then. Considering this particular situation, you agreed on something you didn't contemplate before," Fogarty pointed. Ana's cheeks flushed. This time she was projecting her current situation and the fact she actually did something she didn't think of doing. Of course, she has a powerful reason to, but Spencer's motivations were somehow in the mix.

"After knowing, I didn't doubt it. I love Diana, but furthermore, it's for the love Spencer has for her. They always have been each other rock, and I know he would do anything for her and vice versa. Between Diana's illness and Spencer's job, things have not been easy for them," Ana paused before continuing. "You know, I lost my mom in my early youth, and still, there are some hard days for me. That's why I treasure being part of the Reid family. It's a privilege I pretend to honor in all my capacity."

Fogarty looked satisfied with the answer, and Spencer didn't expect it at all. That wasn't something they talked about or agreed to say, and it touched Spencer's heart. His eyes were fixed on her, and Ana could feel it. That's why she fought the urge to look at him back.

Fogarty continued the meeting with technical details about Diana's arrival and the first steps on her treatment. Then he dispatched the couple because he had another appointment.

Ana and Spencer didn't talk until they were in the car, taking their rings off.

"Thank you," Spencer said to Ana, who smiled at him.

"Don't mention it. I told you I would come with you," she reminded him.

"And for what you said there, too. I mean, the last part about being a Reid?" Ana's cheeks tinted a shade of pink.

"Oh. That. Sorry if it was too much," Ana apologized in advance. Spencer shook his head.

"Not at all. Is it something you think, though? I mean, leaving aside the part of us being actually- you know-" he trailed off.

"Leaving aside the part of us being actually in love? Yes." Ana conceded. Spencer nodded, not knowing what else to say. 

To salvage them of an awkward moment, Ana changed the subject. "Well, I guess this calls for a celebration, huh?"

"Yeah, sure," Spencer agreed.

"How about a homemade dinner? I can prepare it," she offered. Spencer shook his head.

"Ana, you don't have to. We can order something," he tried to persuade her.

"No. None of that. Your mom got a spot in a top medical trial. That's great news. You can't celebrate it with pizza or Chinese. But we need to go to the grocery store. With what you have in the fridge, we won't do anything, honestly," Ana complained. Spencer huffed. "Hey, am I lying? Can you name the last meal you cooked with ingredients from your fridge?" Spencer rolled his eyes.

"Fine. We're going to the grocery store, then."

Walking through the aisles, Ana carefully scanned the shelves to pick the needed products. Spencer followed her with the cart, half full of things he had never bought.

"Are you sure we need all of this?" Spencer asked, worried. After putting in the cart two bags of frozen corn, Ana replied.

"Of course. What I want to cook needs veggies, carbs, and meat. Not to mention we need to buy more things for your empty pantry."

"Hey. It's not empty!" Spencer protested.

"Sorry, you're right. It's not empty, just filled with boxes of cereal and coffee beans," Ana corrected mockingly.

"The essentials," Spencer pointed.

"I should have already suspected this after seeing the sugar you put in your coffee. I don't get it, though."

"What?"

"I mean, you're a certificated genius. I bet you have read a lot of research about unhealthy habits and what they can do to you," she said and turned to scan what brand of peas she would choose.

"Sure, I had done it. It doesn't mean I do something about it," Spencer recognized, and Ana looked at him. "I'm not proud, okay? But it had been my life since I can remember," he shrugged. Ana's expression softened. Now connecting the dots, it made sense to her.

"Well, that's why I'm going to show you what you have been missing here, mister," Ana teased. Spencer arched a brow.

"It's doctor, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah. Husband-doctor. Why don't you go to get the bread, honey? I'll weigh these tomatoes, and I’ll join you there,” Ana winked. Spencer chuckled.

"Yes, ma'am."

Spencer did so, driving the cart two aisles down and submerging himself in diverse bread types. When he was choosing his brand, a voice it wasn’t Ana's called him.

"Boy wonder?"

"Oh. Hey, Garcia," Spencer chimed like someone caught doing something illicit. "What - what are you doing here?" He stuttered, looking around uncomfortably.

"You know, getting some new shoes," Penelope quipped, but Spencer didn't flinch. "What do you think, genius? The same as you, doing grocery!"

"Oh, yeah. Of course, you do."

Spencer kept standing as Penelope examined his nervous demeanor. Shifting her gaze to the cart, she knew something was off.

"Are you alone?"

"Me? Oh, yeah -" Spencer was about to assure when Ana's voice stopped him mid-sentence.

"I can believe how expensive this store is. These vegetables-" Ana stopped talking when she saw Spencer in front of a blonde she recognized from the coffee shop.

Shit.

Spencer turned to see Ana standing behind him with a bag of tomatoes. "I mean, no. Not alone," Spencer corrected. Garcia arched a brow, an amused smile on her face.

"I know you," Garcia told Ana.

Double shit.

This wasn't expected. Not at all. What would they say now?

“You’re the girl from the coffee shop,” Penelope realized. Ana looked at Spencer for a sign about who would handle this. He nodded subtly.

“Yes. She is. Penelope, this is my friend Ana from Vegas; Ana, this is my friend Penelope from the BAU.”

“Hi! Nice to meet you. Although my curiosity strikes again. Friends from Vegas? It didn’t seem you knew each other when we were at the coffee shop,” Penelope pointed as she shook Ana’s hand.

“Yeah. About that,” Spencer prefaced. “I know you guys. If I had told you we knew each other, you wouldn’t have let her alone, and she was working.”

Penelope scoffed.

“We are not that bad! But okay, maybe we have made a little interrogation. Anyway, what’s the story? Why I haven't heard about you before?”

Ana saw how Spencer’s brain was about to combust, so she thought she could help.

“Well, we lost contact after Spencer left Vegas for college, and I moved with my family to South America. I only returned to the US a year ago and settled in DC the last September, starting at the coffee shop. One day I arrived at work, and Spencer was there. So, in short, you could say we are still reconnecting in our friendship,” Ana explained.

“Oh! Old friendship. I like that. And you sure you’re not dating? I mean, you are doing grocery together. If anyone sees you would say you look like a couple.”

“Penelope!” Spencer scolded. Ana chuckled at the straightforwardness.

“We’re not dating. We are just getting some things here because I promised Spencer to cook him a decent meal,” Ana explained. Garcia’s eyes widened.

“Oh! That's awesome! Gods know how badly this boy needs a homemade meal from time to time.”

“That's what I have been told him,” Ana seconded.

“Can you please at least acknowledge I’m right here?” Spencer complaint.

“We say these things because we love you, boy wonder,” Garcia said, patting Spencer’s shoulder. Ana smiled at Garcia’s display of affection and the cute pout Spencer sported. It seemed more than a relationship between colleagues. They looked like real friends. She made a mental note about it to ask Spencer later.

Her notification ring distracted Penelope from the interrogation she had Ana and Spencer in. Checking the phone, she huffed in frustration.

“What is it, Garcia?” Spencer asked, worried.

“Nah. It’s not a big deal. I just got canceled the dinner I had tonight. And silly me buying nice things,” she complained, peering at her cart.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer mumbled.

“Don’t be. Sergio will be better company tonight. Okay, you two, I’ll let you be. It was nice to meet you, nice girl,” Garcia prompted her goodbyes. Ana saw Spencer’s sad face. It was like he wanted to do something for his friend but didn’t know what.

“You know, I’ll make a typical dish I learned from my mom’s family. I don't mind ‘pelar otra papa y poner algo más de agua en la olla,’ really,” Ana said. Both Spencer and Garcia looked at her, puzzled. The girl laughed. “I just said I don’t mind having another guest at dinner. The more, the merrier,” she clarified, looking at Spencer for if she had gone too far. Spencer smiled.

“Oh, no. I don’t want to intrude on a dinner between old friends,” Penelope dismissed. Spencer scoffed.

“Come on, Garcia. I know you are dying to ask more about Ana, me, and our life,” Spencer affirmed. Penelope narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth, faking offense.

“I would never! But since you insist so kindly. Let’s taste Ana’s dish,” Garcia cheered.

Spencer and Ana shared a complicity look. This dinner and this night promise to be exciting, no doubt of it.

——————

Previous chapter < > Next chapter

——————

Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine​ @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @tvandfanfic​ @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @disaster-in-waiting @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey

[tup-ika-5385]

Knockout Chapter 8:

Chapter Summary:

Assessments are done and plans are made, but one thing becomes clear- they have to get off Kamino.

Fic Summary:

Six months after the trials of Umbara, Tup and Dogma are growing into themselves as well-established members of the 501st. Tup's been training more with Fives and Jesse, set on an ARC trooper promotion, and even Dogma has found a place in medical, where his intense focus and organization are both needed and appreciated.

While practicing for his medic exams, Dogma find some worrying abnormalities in Tup's numbers, making some worrying discoveries. As Tup's condition worsens, help comes from unlikely sources as Dogma, Kix, Fives, and Hardcase fight to discover the truth and save their brother.

Chapter 8:

After another hour in the Bad Batch’s barracks, Dogma had almost acclimated to the smell. Wrecker was doing a lot better, and Crosshair had settled in an uneasy truce, still not trusting this many regs in their barracks, but much less likely to be a threat. Dogma guessed that neither of them liked feeling useless when their brothers were in pain. 

Fives had finally briefed Dogma, Hardcase, and Patch on their current situation after Patch had done a few assessments on Tup, and Dogma’s head was still reeling. Technological components– inside his brother’s head?! Suddenly, the Kaminoan’s response was starting to make a lot more sense, except… when did it get there? 

As batchmates, Dogma and Tup had probably never been separated for more than a day, before their deployment, and even then, something like brain surgery would be pretty hard to hide, even if Tup were trying. And it still didn’t explain the other medics’ reactions, so eager to hunt down a brother without explanation– and an injured one, at that.

Dogma shook his head; he’d go crazy trying to figure it out on his own, especially with his current sleep deficit. Fives had already conked out, sprawled out on the ground like he was still in the middle of a campaign. He’d definitely slept in worse, and Tup hadn’t been far behind him, but Dogma knew any efforts to sleep right now would be wasted, so instead he settled in next to patch and Kix, listening to them go through the assessment results. 

“So, after having Tup do a modified version of the WCPA, and a couple physical assessments, I’d say that physically, he’s well on the mend, and will probably be fully recovered in about a week. He might have some residual balance issues and need more sleep than usual, but he’ll be alright. Mentally, there’s a couple things we’ll have to keep a close eye on.”

He paused, looking towards Dogma, “You remember what we talked about with executive functioning, right?”

“Yeah, it’s starting tasks, planning, and follow-through, right?” Dogma confirmed, relieved to know that his training was already coming in handy.

Patch nodded, “That’s right, and it’s something that Tup’s having some trouble with, right now. The assessment I used had him practice scheduling appointments, training, the like. I asked him certain questions about two and five minutes in, which he’s supposed to ignore, according to the instructions at the beginning, and he was told to let me know when seven minutes had passed, according to the chrono I set up. During the assessment, he scheduled everything correctly, just a bit longer than average, which could’ve easily been exhaustion, but was easily distracted when I asked him questions, and forgot the seven-minute marker entirely.”

He paused before continuing. “There were also a few times, outside of the regular assessment where I noticed he’d have more emotional responses than normal. Correct me if I’m wrong, but Tup never struck me as someone with a hair-trigger anger response.” At that, he looked at Dogma, who shrugged sheepishly. 

Tup had overheard one of Crosshair’s more caustic comments, asking, “What kind of a name is Dogma, anyways?” and hadn’t thought twice about jumping to Dogma’s defense almost aggressively, at least until his eyes started tearing up, and he’d flushed in humiliation. No harm had been done; Dogma could handle a blunt question or two, but seeing the distress on his batchmate’s face had worried him more than a little.

“He’s always been protective of me, but… his restraint is usually a little better, and the tears are unusual.” Dogma commented quietly, eyes trailing down to find his batchmate still fast asleep, taking comfort in watching his chest rise and fall. Sure, Tup used to cry a lot as a cadet, but Dogma hadn’t seen this many tears in a while– not since they were still in their cadet blues, rather than the reds given out to older cadets.

Patch nodded in understanding, rubbing his face tiredly as he talked. “With the brain, there’s a lot of stuff we just don’t know, but it’s likely that he’ll keep having difficulties.”

“For how long?” Dogma asked before he could stop himself.

“Could be a week, could be a month… could be a lot longer than that. It is something we can help with– there’s lots of mindfulness strategies and coping strategies he can learn to use, to give him a little more time to process his emotions. And for the other stuff, he’ll probably need reminders, check-ins, probably not too different from what you’ve already got set up for a couple other vode in the 501st.” 

Patch smiled, looking back to where Hardcase and Wrecker had settled after wearing themselves out. Even before Umbara, Rex and the other commanding officers had already made a habit of sending short written mission briefings to a couple vode mid-mission, Hardcase included, for those who needed a little more help remembering the specifics, and it wouldn’t be too hard to add Tup to that list. 

“He’s got a good support system, and I’ll always be available over comm to make suggestions about what might help, but it’ll be a while ‘till we know more about what he needs.”

Glancing back at Kix, Patch asked, “Do you still have that, uh, tumor? I didn’t get a good look at it earlier.”

Kix nodded, reaching into his utility belt and handing it over with a grimace. “Still can’t believe this was inside of him– makes you wonder what the Kaminoans had planned for it, after Dogma’s unplanned adventure in medbay.”

At that, the group sat in still silence, at least until they were interrupted by Tech. “Is that an inhibitor chip?”

Kix’s eyes widened, “What?”

“An inhibitor chip– they’re utilized by the Kaminoans for behavioral modification. We all have one.” Tech replied, looking bored. “Or, at least, I assume we all have one, but given our deviant nature–”

“That must be why the other medics were acting strange!” Dogma exclaimed before glancing back at Tup to make sure he didn’t wake him. “Nothing else would make sense– medic’s don’t just–”

“Perhaps not in your experience, but I would hesitate to insist that these troopers were not just… following orders.” Tech responded, all-too-familiar with regs responding less-than-kindly to those deemed different; a descriptor that now included Tup, apparently.

His words stirred another memory of Tup, half-conscious and mumbling, “good soldiers follow orders,” prompting another question. “Exactly what behaviors do these chips modify, then?” ‘And why didn’t it work on me?’ Dogma wondered to himself.

“Yeah, I’d like to know that too,” Fives chimed in, having woken up from his lothcat-nap, carefully sliding out from under Tup. “Cuz when I looked for information on this so-called ‘inhibitor chip,’ I got nothing– not even a mention or a scanned image, ‘cept the one we pulled from Tup.”

Tech frowned, rocking a bit as he thought. “I am not sure. I did not pursue that line of thought when I first learned of the chip, but I believe I have the data saved somewhere.” He said, before beginning to search through his mountain of datachits and detritus for the second time that night. Hunter looked like he was about to argue for a moment– he was probably the only reason there was a walkable path in their barracks at all– before relenting, just as curious as the rest of them.

“Here it is!” Tech called, pulling out a datachit that looked identical to the others, but with the numbers 02-157 written on the side; it wasn’t an organizational scheme Dogma recognized.

“The file itself was encrypted, which is why I didn’t choose to open it before– doing so would likely alert the Kaminoans, and it’s possible that it would display the datapad’s location as well, so I would wait until you were off-planet to do so.” He cautioned them with a warning look before handing the file over to Fives. 

“We’ll keep that in mind, thanks vod.” Fives gave him a grateful nod, glad to be doing something. 

“That brings us back to our current predicament, though. We can’t stay here, as grateful as we are for your hospitality,” Fives paused, addressing Hunter, who nodded. “But with Tup’s current condition, stealth’s definitely the better option. Even if we get to a hangar, I’d be shocked if they hadn’t already locked down everything with hyperspace capabilities.” He put a hand on his chin, thinking.

“Actually, we might not need one– a ship with hyperspace, I mean.” Patch offered with a grin. “The 104th should still be in-orbit… it wouldn’t be hard to rendezvous with them and get a different ship– maybe even learn more about this chip while we’re at it.”

“Good plan,” Fives grinned in return. “Speaking of which, I should check back with AZ– last I heard, he was looking into potential insertion dates for the, uh, chips.”

With that, he got out his comm and called the droid. “AZ! What’s the status on those scans you were taking?”

“Oh, hello ARC Trooper Five-s!” A cheery metallic voice called, and Crosshair rolled his eyes from where he’d been listening in. “I have been ordered to report to the maintenance bay for a system wipe, but I shall transmit the data to you at once. One moment please.”

“What?!”

“It appears that the Kaminoans do not recognize the social-emotional benefits of doctor-patient confidentiality, and took offense when I did not share the identity of Patient Tup.”

Fives sighed, “Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me. I don’t get how you can be so chipper about it– if I was being reconned, I’d be furious.” After all, it was nearly the same thing, and the little med-droid had started to grow on Fives, like some kind of invasive fungus.

AZ-3 hummed. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to have human emotions– but I do not!” He replied cheerily before something beeped. “The data is now transmitted.”

Kix’s datapad buzzed, and the medic nodded that the data had been received. “It confirms what we knew; that all troopers past tubies have one of these chips. But I still wanna know who has control of them. Nala Se, obviously, but who else?”

“Can’t be anyone good, if they’re trying this hard to keep them a secret. This is starting to smell like a Separatist plot to me.” Fives frowned, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. Sure, call him paranoid, but since Umbara, it didn’t take much to make him doubt other’s motives, and he’d never trusted the Kaminoans much in the first place.

Turning to Tech, he asked, “Tech, could you– is there any way to change AZ’s–”

Tech hummed an affirmative, tapping away at his datapad. “Already done. The system will register the droid as already having been wiped– assuming its number is the same one registered to that comm device, and it should be free to return to its duties.” He said, adjusting his goggles. Hunter might not like it when he intervened, worrying he’d get in trouble with the Kaminoans, but Tech found great satisfaction in disrupting the Kaminoan’s plans, even just a little.

“Hear that, AZ? You should be good to go. Take care of yourself, yeah?”

“Care is not required, as I am a droid. Goodbye!” AZ-3 replied, cutting off the comm channel abruptly, earning a weary chuckle from Fives. “Yeah, he’ll be fine.”

He turned towards Hunter and the rest of the Bad Batch, who had already done so much to help clones who were practically strangers to them. “I know I have no right to ask this of you– you’ve already done so much to help us, to help Tup, and we couldn’t be more grateful. I know us ‘regs’ haven’t treated you well in the past, but you and your squad have treated us with kindness we haven’t earned. If you ever need anything, you are welcome with the 501st anytime.” 

He drew himself up into a firm salute, which was mirrored by the other conscious troopers– Hardcase and Tup were still fast asleep. Hunter nodded his head in acceptance, giving them a rare smile. “I’ve gotta say, it’s been nice spending time with regs who aren’t about to throw down with one of my brothers.” 

He glanced at Crosshair for approval, knowing if he didn’t, he’d be hearing about it for the next month. Thankfully Crosshair shrugged, glancing at the regs as if to say, ‘Whatever gets out of my space soonest,’ so Hunter turned back to Fives.

Despite a few bumps in the road, this was probably the most peaceful interaction his squad had ever had with the regs– and these ones actually saw them as vode, which was parsecs above what he could say for most of the shinies still on Kamino. “Now, what did you say you need?” Unfortunately, the Marauder was still undergoing repairs after their latest mission, so they couldn’t just give them a ride.

Fives grinned. “We could use a distraction…”

___________________

Turns out, the Bad Batch had a plan for exactly that, and within ten minutes, their squad was heading towards the nearest hangar completely unobstructed. With the combination of Tech’s computer skills, Crosshair’s pinpoint accuracy when it came to identifying and shutting down cameras, and of course, Wrecker’s ability to draw attention wherever he went, it wasn’t long before they were in possession of a small ship that wouldn’t be missed for 24 hours. 

They were home free– assuming they didn’t crash along the way.

“I thought you said you knew how to fly!” Patch yelped, his face a ghastly shade of green as he tried to keep his breaths even as he resolutely refused to look out the viewscreen. His aviophobia had gotten a lot better since his posting with the 501st, but this– he cursed as Hardcase made another loop and a muffled “Oops,” could be heard in the cockpit– was not flying.

“I’ve flown before!” Hardcase shouted back, dodging the last of the sensor arrays as they made their way up into the atmosphere. He twisted the ship around a few more times for good measure, hoping to keep the Kaminoans off their scent, and Patch’s heart stuttered with every jerking movement.

“Umbara categorically does not count!” Dogma griped, inclined to agree with Patch. The sooner they were back on firm ground, the better.

“I mean I’ve practiced some with the General, he’s been helping me to–”

“Watch the controls!!!” Kix cried in despair as Hardcase pulled up on the brakes and they definitely left a mark on the 104th’s hangar floor.

“I’ve got it, I’ve got it!” Hardcase called as the ship came to a full and complete stop, probably smoking a little bit, but otherwise in one piece. “There!”

Kix let out a relieved sigh, clutching his chest. “Remind me to never fly with you again, vod.” He said before walking out the exit ramp, giving a hand to Patch when his legs shook, still looking more than a little green.

“You good, vod?”

Patch let out a slow breath, only just managing to hold down his rations while he nodded. He wasn’t usually one prone to space-sickness, but at least he had an excuse for not noticing their audience until he nearly ran into Commander Wolffe. “Easy there, Patch.” 

“Wolffe!” Patch brightened immediately, leaning in to clasp his brother’s wrist, receiving a hearty thump on the back.

“It’s good to see you, vod. Welcome home.” Wolffe rumbled softly, drawing him in.

Patch choked up a little bit, responding just as quietly. “It’s good to be home.”

It’s been more than a year since he was back with the 104th, and even with everything else going on, it meant so much to be here– and to be with his brothers again, so he took a moment to settle in Wolffe's firm grip before pulling away. 

He glanced around, noticing their little welcoming party included most of the Wolfpack, as well as General Koon.

“Thanks for letting us crash here, General.” Hardcase joked, watching as the landing crew gave the ship one last spray with a fire-extinguisher. “We’ve heard a lot of good things about you, sir.”

“You are most welcome, young Hardcase. It is an honor to meet Patch's brothers from the 501st.” General Plo offered, smiling under his mask as he greeted the group. “Come, I hear we have much to discuss.” He said, beckoning them forward so they could share what they learned.

____________

AO3 Link:

[weirdshapeddog]

Obey Me! ramblings, mild spoilers for OG, some spoilers for NB early lessons

Okay so I FINALLY basically finished OG (got to lesson like 69 but I know what happens story-wise approximately so I’m not pressed to truly finish in a rush. I will finish! Just… when I can) - I had taken a pause to try and level cards, and then at one point saw an upcoming lesson in NB was related to a lesson in OG I hadn’t done, so wanted to finish OG before going too far in NB. And frankly, I’m glad that I did.

I know folks say you can play NB without playing OG, but I have to strongly disagree. Playing OG first gives you the buildup of affection for the characters, yes, but it also gives SUPER important context for the NB lessons. And! It also makes some options for your actions in even early NB lessons make more sense.

F’ex, when I played the lesson with Dia’s trial in early NB, we get the option to kiss him… and unless you’ve played to like lesson 60-something in OG, that makes NO sense because he doesn’t even get to fully confess his feelings to you until lesson like 50-60something. LIKEWISE, we don’t get Solomon’s confession in OG until lesson 50-60something (it’s been a few days, I forgot the exact lessons). But still! Playing through OG with the idea that NB happens probably very shortly after OG makes the MOST sense.

In that order - finishing OG then starting NB - we’ve JUST gotten our relationships with Sol, Dia, Simeon, and Barbatos started since the latter doesn’t confess til 70-something smh so Solomon’s attentive husband-y personality makes sense, as does our ability to be familiar and affectionate with people in ways you wouldn’t really be unless you knew them. I had more thoughts on that but in the seconds I’ve been typing they’ve flown out the window lmao

Relatedly though, while I’m only on chapter 18 for NB, I’m calling it now; Nightbringer is Barbatos. There was a sneaky little chapter (one of those “get A rank for all the battles and you can unlock this” things) where we see a convo between Solomon and Nightbringer. We don’t SEE Nightbringer, but Solomon is clearly familiar with them, joking with them… and then, after Nightbringer comments on how Solomon is, Solomon basically says (paraphrasing) “I’m like this because of you!” - and I know from spoilers I’ve seen that Barbatos helped to teach and basically raise Solomon… PLUS one of Solomon’s homescreen dialogues (not special guest just the homescreen) says he has “a strange feeling about Barbatos”… AND Nightbringer is said in early-ish lessons too to be a demon in control of time. Like… that’s literally just Barbatos. Idk if we’ve had it confirmed in later chapters yet WHO Nightbringer is, but I’m calling it as Barbatos because they basically have all but said it already in game. The big question is WHY did Barbatos, if he is Nightbringer, decide to throw us back in time? And given the idea that he had just barely acknowledged his feelings for MC relatively recently (in the context that NB happens shortly after the end of OG)… AND potentially that his anger towards Solomon in NB is a “ripple effect” as I’ve seen it phrased… was Barbatos looking to gain something personal in sending MC back? Does past Barbatos KNOW who MC is and just pretends he doesn’t? I could see it, with what we know about him. Barbatos my beloved eldritch horror

*Editing to add: in lesson 20-11, Barbatos thanks us for ensuring everything turned out “as it should”… ��� yeah, I’m definitely banking on Barbatos being Nightbringer.

On Obey Me! as a whole - re: the news of no updates - with some of the stuff we’ve gotten as part of the “farewell”, I can’t help but to wonder if the series may take a more adult turn. We get calls from each of the dateables wherein we are either invited or can invite ourselves to bathe with the characters/otherwise engage in adult stuff that is hinted at (ie in Lucifer’s call)… not to mention, at least one of the special pics we get - specifically Belphie’s - has some adult vibes to it! Like, he LOOKS like he’s stripping. Like…

That is in his bed. That is in the room he and Beel share, on Belphie’s half, in his bed. Tell me it doesn’t look like he’s got the viewer pinned down and is getting undressed? I’m not the only one who sees it, this was something I saw others discussing too.

Maybe this is just me being the Adult Guy™ that I am, but frankly, I would be delighted if Obey Me! went for something more adult going forward. I’ve been also playing What in Hell is Bad? lately and enjoying it, and would be thrilled to see the Obey Me! boys in a similar game. *Note: if you’re someone who is unsettled by dark content, do NOT play What in Hell is Bad?, as they are NOT shy about kinks/fetishes/paraphilias. It is not for kids, and it is NOT for people sensitive to dark content, especially dark content in a sexual setting. Again, many characters have paraphilias in the game that are used to interact with MC, so if you were considering playing but don’t like dark sexual content, don’t play.

ANYWAY I don’t know that Obey Me! would ever go straight up 18+ content route but I wouldn’t be upset about it personally if they did. They were super vague in their announcement, and seemed to be hinting that there would be new content coming out at some point, just not for the current games, so I’m hoping they either come out with a third app or maybe go with a cross-platform format. Whether that content will be what we’ve always gotten or if they’ll shift gears, idk, but… yes. That’s my ramblings on it all. I’m glad to have finished OG and am looking forward to playing through NB now! ^^

[sagemusesoutloud]

Anti-Romantic, Part 3

(credit to the original owner of the image)

Character | Jaehyun x reader

Genre | nonidol!au, Mutual Pining, Slowburn, Fluff, Angst

WordCount | 2.5 k

Author'sNote | I know I promised this would be up Monday, but life has a funny way of getting in the way sometimes. I honestly don't know what came over me, but I woke up at 3 am and just HAD to write this down. Hope you like it ^^

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Sorry I’m an anti-romantic, I want to run far away

My heart that already chases after you, Blazes up with a small flame

You begin to regain consciousness as the pain in your neck increases. Ugh, this is why you brought your pillow from home. Rolling your neck in the other direction, you reach your hand over from the warmth to fluff the pillow when you feel movement under you.

You freeze and open your eyes, the light so bright that you immediately shut them again. Once your watery eyes calm down, you try opening one at a time. The sun was shining directly on you from the window behind you, you’d guess it was probably early morning. What shocked you into panic mode was the fact that you were still on the sofa and not in the guest bedroom like you had planned last night. Lightly lifting your head, you peek over at Jae to find him still sleeping.

Sometime during the night, both of you must have shifted to a laying position on the couch. Jae was still under you, his arms wrapped around your lower back. Well, there are worse things to wake up to. But now that you were up, so was your bladder. Do you just get up and leave? You didn’t drink that much water; you eyed the half empty water bottle on the coffee-table. Yeah, you could hold it. You relax your body and plan to drift off again when you feel Jae’s chest move with a deep breath, stretching an arm over his head. Crap, maybe I should have moved earlier…is it gonna get weird? Will he be mad?

You’re so deep in thought, it takes you a while to realize he’s not pushing you away but pulling you closer. He places his arm back, this time cradling your head as he peeks at you. “You’re awake?”

“No, I’m sleep-talking.”

You feel him rather than hear him chuckle. He rolls you both over so that you’re lying side by side and able to see you better.

“We fell asleep on the couch…did you sleep ok?” the sun hits half of his face, one of his eyes shining a deep honey color. Even the dust motes help make him look ethereal. Curse him for looking so beautiful first thing in the morning.

“hmm, yeah. Don’t get too close though, I have eye-boogers,” you try to bring the blanket up from your waist but it’s stuck so you opt to covering your eyes with your hands.

“shut up, as if it weren’t normal,” he groans as he pulls you into his chest. “It’s still early, just go back to sleep.”

“I can’t”

“…You can’t?”

“no”

“oh…” he lets you go and scoots as far back in the sofa as he can, “sorry.”

“I’m just gonna go freshen up,” you say as try your best not to fall flat on your face trying to untangle from the blanket, “I’ll be back.” Your only response is a groan before he presumably falls right back to sleep.

As you take care of your business, you can’t help the heavy feeling in your chest. What you were both doing, was it wrong? Did something change or are you overthinking things? It’s happened to you before, where you get too ahead of yourself and end up in misunderstandings. You wanted to enjoy whatever step it was that you both took together last night, but you needed that reassurance or confirmation that it wasn’t all just in your head. Jaehyun would never hurt you, not intentionally. But his cold exterior had been known to break a few hearts here and there throughout your childhood. Heck, even at work nowadays. Now that you think about it, the only times he’s hurt you he hadn’t even been aware of it. You desperately wished you could just waltz right up to him and demand answers; you just didn’t want to make yourself look like a fool for diving straight in to the ‘something more’ stage.

Up until the night before, you had been content with the game of push and pull and if someone would have told you yesterday that what transpired the night before would happen, you would have thought they were joking, but…they do say that the body makes known what the heart wants. You were still in a mess when you realize that you’d been washing your hands for long enough that the water ran cold. You decide that now was a good time as any to wash your face and brush your teeth, combing your fingers through your hair. If he wasn’t going to say anything, why should you? Yeah, this is all probably too much too soon to mean something more, so you were just going to enjoy it while you can. If anything, this could be like a free trial before committing to the long-term subscription. Yeah, that’s simple enough.

You get back to the living room to find Jae still on the couch. An arm covered his face blocking the sun and the other splayed out next to him, an invitation. Or was it? Stop it. You can’t be the one to blame when he’s taking up the whole space. You pick up the blanket from the floor and lay it half on him, leaving an opening for you to slither into. Leaning over the sofa, you move the sheer curtains to cover half the window. they didn’t do much but Jae did move his arm in alarm at the change of lighting, “oh, you’re finally back.”

“yup, all good now.” You nudge your way back into his chest as you laid down facing the room. If you really were going to sleep, you don’t know how much rest you’d be getting if you were facing him again. “good, we can sleep an hour or two more,” his arm reaches around you to pull you even closer, “don’t want you to fall off.”

And there it is, the ‘excuse.’ Is that all this was?

It all felt so intimate and personal. Jaehyun wasn’t sure if the excuses he kept giving you since last night were even believable anymore. He just couldn’t get enough of your closeness. Like a man starved, he kept drinking in the sight of you next to him, the feel of your body along his. This had officially been his best birthday to date.

He was aware that some deep, deep part of him was tensed up waiting for something to go wrong or to bolt at the first chance. But for once, his heart was louder than those thoughts. He wanted this, he wanted to have you. All of you. In turn, he wanted to give you all of him as well. That’s what scared him the most, he’s known he’s wanted you since forever, but the fact that he needed to you to embrace all of him? That he needed you to be his safe space?

In a way, he’s always known about all of this. It’s why he’s kept you at a distance for so long, but maybe he was finally ready to open up to you and be completely honest and vulnerable. Fuck, he can’t even believe it took him this long to actually do something about it.

You both wake up later in the morning. Jaehyun’s preparing coffee while you whip up breakfast, an easy pattern you both fall into. He’s not sure if the silence is a comfortable one or a heavy one, but you did seem to be in a good mood. While he’d gone to freshen up, you had connected your phone to the Bluetooth speakers and had a light melody playing. He makes a mental note to ask you over more often, he would gladly become a morning person just to see you fit so seamlessly in his home.

As you both settle down to eat, he hears you let out a gasp, “I forgot!”

“What is it?”

You whine, “aww, I wanted to give it to you on your birthday. It’s the whole reason I needed to see you.” You get up and dash over to the guestroom before he can even stop you.

“So you didn’t come just to spend time with me? Ouch,” he zeroes in on your form, hiding something behind your back. “Don’t tell me you got me flowers.” Your smile drops.

“No, they’re not flowers,” you roll your eyes. You pull his arm out, guiding your hand down until you grasp his hand. He hopes you don’t see the way he shivers at the contact. “Here,” you place the red-velvet heart-shaped box in his palm. He gasps, “oh.”

For a moment, he doesn’t know how to react. Is this what he thinks it is? No, you couldn’t possibly have, you for sure would be way more nervous if you did. But it did look like jewelry, expensive jewelry. “well, are you gonna open it?”

He wordlessly lifts the lid and finds an exquisite bracelet inside. Jaehyun wasn’t much of a guy for jewelry, but it was simple enough to be worn as everyday type of accessory. It was a thin silver type of chain, the clasp had his initials and a heart hidden on the inner-side of it. “Just so you know, the heart was part of the model,” you begin explaining, a nervous shake to your voice, “but I did ask them to engrave your initials on it to personalize it. You don’t have to like it, like I said, I saw it while out shopping and thought of you.” He glances at you to find your ears red but your expression was drawn. Fuck, were you even real?

He hands you the box back, for a second, he sees your shoulders deflate before clarifying, “I’m gonna need some help to put it on.”

“Why do you always tease me?” but you concede his request, taking out the chain carefully and pulling his wrist closer to you. Because I love you…

Because this is the only way I can show you affection without scaring you…

“Because I love your reactions.”

You let go of him as you finish your work, inspecting the way it looks. “I’m glad I knew your size,” you mumble, “it fits you perfectly.” He doesn’t miss the way he feels it weighing down his wrist. Was it a comfortable weight?

“Of course it does, you got it for me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” your eyes are piercing his, no doubt that your thoughts are probably going a hundred miles per hour. “What I just said,” his eyes are staring you down, “anything you give is perfect to me.” You weren’t going to make him spell it out for you, right? Not after last night.

You frown at that, “what if I don’t want to ‘just’ give you this?”

He finally looks away as he finds the courage to say, “what are you willing to give?” He’s treading carefully, he can’t mess up now.

“I don’t know.”

That stings. Are we back to playing games? So soon?

He’s tired of it. Forget tired, he’s exhausted from it. And all it took was one night to help him realize that he really doesn’t want to continue playing, not when it comes to you.

“Then, I would be happy for the time you spent together with me last night. I would be grateful it happened but I probably wouldn’t feel comfortable being that close to you again.”

Did he just say that? Maybe this was all a dream still. A cruel nightmare.

So he doesn’t want to move things further, is that what he’s saying? After all the moments you just shared, that’s all he’s got to say to you?

“I’m sorry I crossed the line then,” you need to go. Before you say something more and before he sees the tears that are just itching to be released.

You force out a laugh, “but thank you for being honest, I guess.”

You grab your plates and move towards the kitchen. Almost there, please don’t fall. He will not see you cry. God, you knew this was getting too good to be true. You knew it had to be a trick, you were back to square one! Man, you felt so stupid now. Did you really think one night would change everything?

You don’t realize he’s quick to go after you, grabbing your arm to face him. You let the plates crash on the sink, the sound startling him as you push his hold off you. You almost make it out the kitchen when he pulls you back again, this time pushing you against the counter standing chest to chest.

“No, you’re not listening to me.” He grabs you by the shoulders. Your heart is pounding furiously against your ribcage. You finally break down, “No, you’re not being honest.”

“If you had told me last night that I make you uncomfortable, I would have respected your boundaries, Jae.” You push down a sob, “If you had no intention of—of being that close—” You can’t even find the right words to express yourself. You spent so much time thinking about what you wanted to say earlier and now you couldn’t recall a single sentence.

He cuts you off with groan, “How can I make myself any more clear? What do you want me to say?” He lets go of you and takes a few steps back, “that it scares me? How much you know? How much you hold over me?”

“Hold over you?? You keep me at a distance! You always draw the line! Even last night, all you could do was excuse each and every one of your actions. What, you thought I wouldn’t catch that?? You don’t leave room for misunderstandings; you are crystal clear.”

You get close enough to poke his chest, “YOU—it was always you! I’ve always just been happy to go along at your pace. FOR YOU. And for years, too. So no, YOU don’t get to throw it back in my face like that. YOU—”

He pushes your hand away, “Me?! Ok no, you’re joking right? This push and pull cycle? I’m not the only one to blame and you know it! What about all those relationships you’ve been in? All those relationship questions you’d ask me, literally just a few weeks back! This is not entirely my fault either. Because guess what sweetheart, it takes two to tango.”

You’re so angry at upset, because how dare he?! Was he not the one that would sleep around in high school? The one that decided to study in a different freaking country?! Leaving you and your friends behind? Leaving the sport he oh so loved behind? He’s just running away again.

You don’t realize how hard you’re breathing and how close you’re standing until you can literally feel his breath on your lips. It’s the whisper you barely catch against the loud ringing in your ears, “You want me to be honest?”

You freeze.

“I’ll be honest with you, you can’t fault me for what I honestly need to do.”

Who made the first move, you’re not sure. But the moment his lips touched yours, it was game over.

EndNote | hahahaha... and there it is. Will there be more tension or are they finally gonna stop being so stubborn?? I honestly don't know, but this has to have been my favorite chapter to write 🙊

In the future, is it ok to post short but daily? Or would people rather I post the whole story in a single post?

Previous: Part 2 | Next: Part 4

[plaidbooks]

My Beautiful Rose

A/N: Oof, this is a long one, and I wanna thank Karen for helping me with the concept! It’s a Sonny Carisi x reader fic, covers the Flowers/Candy square in the VDay bingo, and may or may not get a part 2; who knows? Hope you enjoy! P.S. I’m sorry for my lack of medical knowledge! P.S.S. this jumps perspective a lot.

Tags: talks of stab wounds, blood, ventilators/tubes, whump

Words: 4197 

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @stardust-fray @permanentlydizzy @infiniteoddball @ben-c-group-therapy @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @barbasimp @alwaysachorusgirl @reading--mermaid @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles

Sonny was working late again tonight, you knew. It was obvious by the box of chocolates he had sent home, as an apology for not making it home for dinner. The bouquet of red roses was just a bonus, because he liked to call you “his beautiful rose.” You didn’t mind��he often worked late nights as detective—but you were always worried. Always afraid to get that phone call, that Sonny wasn’t coming home. You looked at your new engagement ring, twisting it gently around your finger. He was fine; he was always fine. But that didn’t stop the worry from eating away at you every time he stepped out that door, badge and gun on his hip. What you didn’t know was how much worse it was to not get that phone call.

***

The nurses burst through the doors of the ER, jogging with the gurney, the man passed out with an oxygen mask laying lifeless on top of it, blood staining his shirt. A doctor caught up with them, falling into step beside them.

“What do we have?” he asked.

“Multiple stab wounds in the chest area—heart rate is 74 and dropping, blood pressure is 90/60, respiratory rate is 10 per minute, O2Sat is 90% and temperature is 95. He lost a lot of blood, at least 10%,” a nurse listed off.

“Jesus…any vital organs punctured?”

“Hard to tell without X-rays, but by the way he’s rasping, he may have a punctured lung.”

The doctor nodded. “Prep him for X-rays and a transfusion. I’ll disinfect and be right in.”

***

You woke up in the morning with no word from Sonny, and your heart started to race. You tried to push the anxiety down; you had texted him the night before with no reply, but that wasn’t unheard of. Sometimes, he was super busy. Other times, he looked at the text, then got caught up in something else and simply forgot to respond. Though, when half the day went by and you had heard nothing, you couldn’t stop the panic that tore through you. Maybe he was working a triple shift and was napping at the precinct. Or maybe something terrible had happened. You tried texting him again, and then waited.

***

“No, I’m sorry Bella, you can’t visit him,” Olivia was saying into her phone. She was leaning against the wall in the hallway of the hospital. “It’s not safe right now; this was a hit, and his family can be targeted.” She waited, listening to the youngest Carisi on the phone. “I know that this is hard, but I promise to keep you updated, okay?” She hung up, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger before re-entering the hospital room.

Amanda was in the visitor’s chair by the bed, working on her laptop. Liv glanced at Sonny, unconscious in the hospital bed, his slowly rising and falling chest the only sign of life…though, the machine strapped to his face, tube down his throat, was helping him breathe. She felt overwhelming guilt that this had happened to the young detective, that he was now battling for his life.

It was supposed to be a routine escort—Sonny was simply taking a working girl to the hotel room that would act as her refuge until the trial against her pimp. But the information had leaked, and they were jumped, both Sonny and the girl being stabbed multiple times. The girl died on the way to the hospital, and Sonny had been barely clinging to life. The knife had punctured a lung, and it slowly filled with blood as he was rushed to the hospital. Another couple minutes, and he’d be dead.

The good news was that the doctor was optimistic about his chances of making a full recovery. The bad news was that this happened at all, and that they now didn’t have a witness to testify against the pimp. Though, if Sonny did pull through, he could hopefully testify…if there was a connection between the men that jumped him and the pimp, which there was no doubt in Olivia’s mind that the two were connected. Either way, Sonny wasn’t safe, which is why Olivia was barring anyone but officers or detectives from seeing him. And only then, it was people she knew, people she trusted. She didn’t know who leaked the location of the hotel room, but she would find out.

“Rollins; why don’t you head home? You’ve been here all night. I’ll stay here with him for the rest of the day until Fin switches out,” Olivia murmured, patting the blonde’s shoulder motherly.

Amanda looked like she would argue at first, but she was so exhausted, and she sighed. “Yeah, okay. Keep me updated, yeah?” She closed her laptop, pushing to stand.

“Of course. Stay safe—watch your six.”

Amanda nodded, heading out the door. Olivia didn’t really think that they could be in trouble for being associated with Sonny. But she wasn’t taking any chances. Glancing at Sonny, she sunk into the chair Amanda had abandoned, pulling out her phone, and going through emails.

***

After you awoke on the second morning with still nothing from Sonny, it solidified the notion that something was wrong. He has never gone this long without notifying you, work or no. And your calls and texts had been going unanswered—a bad sign indeed. With no other choice, you grabbed your things, heading to the precinct of SVU with shaking hands.

 *************************

The building was busy, officers mulling about, rushing to and from desks and file cabinets and fax machines and copiers. After being pointed towards the SVU department, you headed up the elevator, starting to feel very nervous indeed about being here. Sonny had made it clear that he kept his home life separate from his work life, and while he’d talk to you about work and cases, you didn’t know how much his coworkers knew about you…if at all.

Making your way towards all the desks, you glanced around the room, trying to find your fiancé. But when you didn’t see him, your eyes went glassy with tears, and you struggled to hold yourself together.

“May I help you?” a woman asked, coming over to you. “I’m Lieutenant Olivia Benson; are you okay?”

“I…is there a Detective Dominick Carisi Jr. here?” you asked, voice watery.

The lieutenant seemed to stiffen at his name and a wave of worry washed through you. You noticed the other personnel around you giving you a hard look, and you shuffled uncomfortably.

“Come with me,” Benson said tersely, leading you towards a room off to the side. You followed her, eager to get away from the probing stares. She gestured you to enter, then followed you in, closing the door behind her. “What’s your name and why are you looking for Carisi?”

You blinked in surprise at her harsh tone. “I…it’s been almost three days since I last saw him and I’m worried. He’s not answering his phone, and I don’t know how else to track him down—”

Benson put her hand up, stopping you. “Name and why you’re looking for him. Now.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you choked out your name. “H-he’s my…he’s my fiancé, and I just want to know if he’s alive—please. If you know where he is—”

“Fiancé? Funny, he never mentioned being engaged, let alone having a girlfriend.”

With shaky hands, you reached for your purse, and Benson reached for her gun. “I’m just…phone,” you sobbed, grabbing your cell and pulling it out. You unlocked your phone, turning it towards her. Your home screen was a picture of Sonny with his arm around your shoulders, kissing the side of your head while you showed off your new engagement ring. “I-I got more pictures,” you murmured, scrolling until you found the photo album, opening it to hundreds of pictures of you and Sonny, flipping through them, proving your relationship to him.

Benson seemed to deflate as she looked at your phone. “Oh…I’m so sorry…. He never mentioned—”

“He keeps work and home separate,” you said, putting your phone back in your purse. “Now, please tell me if he’s still alive.”

 ***************

Your heart was in your throat as you road in the squad car to the hospital. At first, Lieutenant Benson wasn’t willing to take you to the hospital to see Sonny, claiming it was too dangerous. But all your worry and anxiety turned into white-hot rage at being kept from him, and she reluctantly agreed, already feeling guilty about thinking you may be someone trying to finish the job. You followed the lieutenant closely, still shaking slightly, unable to remain calm until you saw him, confirmed that he was still alive.

You froze it the doorway to his room when she entered, moving to the blonde woman in the visitor’s chair and exchanging a few mumbled words with her. But they were deaf to your ears as you stared at Sonny’s lifeless form on the bed, ventilator strapped to his face, machines buzzing and whirring around him. Letting out a choked sob, you rushed over to him, reaching out for his hand then stopping yourself, afraid to touch him, to hurt him somehow.

In a calm voice, Benson explained what had happened, and you half-listened, wincing at words like “stabbed” and “punctured lung.”

“Will he be okay?” you asked, wiping away the tears trailing down your cheeks.

“The doctor said that he should make a full recovery, yes,” Benson replied, and for the first time in three days, relief swept through you. But only briefly, before worry and anxiety crashed back into you. You nodded, bringing the other visitor’s chair over and plopping down into it. You had found Sonny; he was alive.

“Oh, you can’t stay here, hun,” the blonde detective said softly, as if you were a child. “It’s not safe.”

“My fiancé has been missing for three days and is on a ventilator. I’m not leaving his side,” you replied through gritted teeth. This time, you did reach out and grab his hand; it was warm and reaffirmed that he was still alive.

“And if they come here to finish the job—”

“You’re going to have to arrest me, because I’m not leaving him. If someone tries to hurt my Dominick, then I’ll…I’ll…” you trailed off; you didn’t know what you’d do. But you wouldn’t go down without a fight. Sonny was your everything, and now that you found him again, you couldn’t bear the thought of losing him. Even the thought of leaving him to go to the bathroom filled you with dread.

Benson sighed heavily, looking defeated. “I…don’t want to arrest you, but I will to keep you safe. Especially for Carisi. But please don’t make me do that. Come quietly.”

“I’m not leaving him,” you said resolutely, gripping his hand tighter. Your breath caught when you felt him squeeze back gently, just a twitch of the fingers. Whipping your head to look at him, you stood from the chair, moving to stand directly over him. The machines were making a different noise now, but he still wasn’t moving.

“[y/n], you are under arrest,” Benson started, placing a cool, metal handcuff around your free wrist, unaware of the change in him. But she stopped as nurses rushed in, talking to each other in jargon you didn’t understand, checking the machines, and checking Sonny.

“What’s happening?” you asked, voice catching in your throat. You no longer felt the handcuff on your skin as a nurse gently pushed you away from Sonny’s body.

“Mr. Carisi is starting to breathe on his own—he doesn’t need the ventilator anymore. He also seems to be waking up; did you notice any change in his condition?” the nurse asked.

You blinked back the tears threatening to form. “He, uh, I squeezed his hand, and I thought he squeezed back….”

The nurse nodded before going back to the bed, helping the other nurses. You watched as Sonny’s eyelids slowly fluttered, the ventilator now gone, his breath coming in raspy through his slightly ajar mouth. You leaned forward, wanting nothing more than to hold him as he slowly came to, blinking and looking around at all the faces staring back at him. He opened his mouth to speak, but a nurse told him not to, that he was going to be sore for a little bit. Instead, she poured him some water, held it while he took a few sips from the straw.

Finally, his dull blue eyes found you, standing just to the side of his bed, behind the nurses surrounding him. “[y/n]?” he croaked, his voice sounding foreign.

You smiled softly at him, tears trailing down your cheeks. “I’m here, Dominick. You’re okay; you’re safe.”

After the nurses had finished doing whatever it was they had to, they left, reminding Sonny to try not to talk, giving him a small white board and pen to communicate. It seemed like you weren’t the only one entranced by the nurses—Benson still only had one handcuff on you, and the other detective had been watching with big eyes. Taking advantage of their latency, you pulled out of Benson’s grip, rushing back to Sonny’s side, clutching his hand.

“I’m so fucking glad you’re okay—that you’re alive. I was so fucking scared, Dom,” you murmured, kissing his hand.

“I love you,” he rasped, and you gave him a hard look that had no real weight behind it.

“I love you, too, but no talking. Use the board and pen, babe,” you urged, gesturing towards the board in his lap. ‘No talking’ for Sonny was going to be rough; he was the most talkative person you knew.

Sonny smiled at you, but it quickly faded as he saw the metal cuff hanging from your wrist. His eyes narrowed, and he glanced at Benson meaningfully, then gestured with his head to you. So, maybe he didn’t need to talk to get his point across.

Benson launched into the story of what happened yet again, ending with how he wasn’t safe in the hospital room. Then, you supplied what the last three days had been like at home, and that you went to the precinct for answers before being brought here.

“I was only going to arrest her to take her some place safe. In case you get attacked here,” Benson explained.

“But I’m not leaving your side,” you quickly added.

Sonny looked torn, his eyes downcast as he thought. Finally, he took his hand from you, opening the pen and bringing the board close to him, so you couldn’t see what he was writing. Finished, he flipped it back towards you, and you read: I love you, but go with Lieutenant Benson. It’s not safe here

You glanced back into his face, his now bright blue eyes sad, and he blinked away the tears quickly. “I can’t leave you, Dom,” you muttered.

“Please,” he croaked out, voice weak.

You closed your eyes as a few tears escaped down your cheeks. “Okay,” you finally agreed. “For you Dominick. You stay safe, you get better, and then you come home, okay?”

Sonny nodded, taking your hand and kissing your knuckles. Then he quickly erased his board, writing something else, then showed it to Benson: Protect her, make sure she’s got unis at our place

“Of course,” Benson replied, and he visibly relaxed back onto the bed. You allowed her to lead you out of the room, taking one last look at your fiancé before you left.

 *******************

It had been two days since you had seen Sonny. He had his phone again, but he was still discouraged from talking, so you texted more than anything. Though, it was killing you not to see him. And yet, he still somehow managed to send you a new bouquet of roses. You chuckled sadly, tears in your eyes when they showed up at your door; Sonny was the only person you knew who could be in a hospital bed and sending you flowers. You made sure to have a florist take some to him, as well; even if you couldn’t be there in person, his beautiful rose was thinking of him.

There was a knock on the door, and you rolled your eyes, thinking Sonny had sent something else now. But opening the door, you were face-to-face with a gangster wannabe-looking man. You had a moment to be confused before he lunged at you, something sharp glinting in his hand. Acting on your most basic instincts, you dodged backwards, the knife only slicing through your shirt. Both of your momentums had you stumbling backwards into your loft. You regained your balance first, grabbing the closest thing to you as a weapon. It was the vase of beautiful red roses, and you whipped your arm around, smashing it into the side of his head. Glass, water, and flowers exploded everywhere as the man tumbled to the ground, blood seeping out from his head. Hands shaking and chest heaving, you scrambled to find your phone, calling Sonny.

You heard the call connect and you didn’t even wait for him to speak before your words rushed out of you. “I was attacked at home and I hit the guy in the head and now he’s bleeding out on the carpet and I don’t know what to do—"

“Woah, calm down,” Sonny replied hoarsely. His voice was getting stronger, but it wasn’t back to normal quite yet. “You were attacked?”

You sniffed, tears clouding your vision. “Y-yeah; he just…knocked on the door, and I answered like an idiot—”

“Holy shit, are you okay? What happened to the unis? I’m sending—” Sonny started hacking and coughing, and your heart sank.

“Calm down, Dom. I’m safe, babe. I’m okay. Drink water…. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called—”

He pulled himself together. “Fuck that; you call me first.” He coughed a moment more, and you heard him swallow liquid. He cleared his throat. “I’m sending Lieutenant Benson there, okay?”

You glanced at the man still unmoving on the floor. “What do I do with the guy? He’s laying face down…did I kill him?” you asked, voice soft.

“Shit, I forgot he’s still there! Get out of our loft—can you go next door to the Thompsons? Get away from him, but don’t go outside,” Sonny instructed.

“I-I don’t know, Dom…I’ll see if they’re home—” you stopped talking as you heard voices in the hallway outside your loft.

“What the hell is taking Juan so long? It’s just some bitch,” a man said.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up, and you rushed to the master bedroom, closing and locking the door. With a burst of inspiration, you opened the window leading to the fire escape before tucking yourself into the bathroom, locking the door, hoping beyond hope that they’d take the bait, thinking you escaped out the window.

You heard a muffled voice and realized that it was Sonny yelling into the phone still clutched in your hand. “[y/n]! What the hell’s happening?” he asked, voice raspy.

“Th-there’s more of them,” you whispered. “I can’t talk; gotta stay quiet.”

“Liv’s on her way—she should be there any minute now. Just stay calm, stay quiet. You’re going to be okay; I promise. I’ll stay on the line with you until you’re safe,” Sonny muttered back, trying his best to keep the panic from his voice.

You heard the exclamation from them finding their buddy on your floor in the foyer, then footsteps coming down the hallway. You clutched the phone closer to your ear, like Sonny’s voice was a lifeline. There was a loud pounding, then wood splintering as the door frame shattered in your bedroom. You let out a soft whimper, tears streaming down your face. You could no longer hear Sonny’s voice, all your focus trained on the footsteps on the other side of the bathroom door.

“Fuck; she went out the window. Find her before she makes it to the hospital—we can’t get her once she’s there,” the same man’s voice from before ordered. You let out a sigh of relief as the footsteps retreated. But you still didn’t hear Sonny’s voice. Glancing at your phone, you saw that it was dead.

***

“What is it? What happened?” Sonny asked desperately when he heard the door explode open, heard you let out a scared whimper. But you didn’t respond. All he got was a soft beeping, letting him know the call dropped. He frantically redialed, heart beating rapidly in his chest, but it went straight to voicemail. Tears in his eyes, he shoved himself up to sitting position, flinging the sheets off himself.

“What the hell are you doing?” Amanda asked, springing up for the visitor’s chair and grabbing his shoulder, trying to force him back in bed.

“[y/n] needs me; I can’t get ahold of her! There were men in our loft; she’s in danger. I gotta go—”

“Yeah? And what are you gonna do in this condition?” Amanda forced him back in bed, but Sonny pushed and shoved at her. She was tired from spending all her time either there in the hospital or at work, having not slept a full night in days, while Sonny was well-rested, besides his injuries.

“I don’t care! She needs me!” Sonny got her hands off him, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.

“Nurse!” Amanda yelled; her last resort, as she grabbed at Sonny’s shoulders, trying to wrestle him down. It took five nurses, plus Amanda, to shove Sonny back onto the bed, holding him still long enough to sedate him. He cursed at all of them in broken English and Italian, tears in his eyes as the drug worked its way through his system, and he finally passed out.

***

You never left the bathroom, even though the loft was quiet, until Olivia got there with officers in tow. The man you had hit, Juan, was still laying face down on the carpet, the blood now thoroughly staining your carpet. Olivia told you that he was miraculously still alive—you felt better knowing you didn’t kill someone—and that the officers would deal with getting an ambulance for him. She was more concerned about getting you somewhere safe; the unis charged with watching you were dead.

“The guys that came in after this guy said that they can’t get me at the hospital,” you said, remembering his words. Olivia gave you a look but didn’t argue; she seemed beaten down from the past week. So, she led you from the loft after you packed a few essentials—including your phone charger—and drove you back to the hospital.

You practically rush into Sonny’s room, Olivia on your heels, but you stopped short when you saw Sonny unconscious, that blonde detective from before sitting next to him.

“What happened?” you asked, coming to stand by his bed, trailing your fingers over his arm. His hair was slightly ruffled, his shirt askew.

“Had to sedate him—he tried to leave cause he couldn’t get ahold of you,” the woman explained.

Olivia ran a hand through her hair while your heart broke. “Rollins, go home; it’s my turn anyways.” The blonde nodded, waving a goodnight before leaving. You took her seat, pulling yourself close to Sonny’s bed, taking his limp hand in yours. Olivia joined you in the other visitor’s chair, but sat far enough back to make it seem like you had your own space with him.

You poured a glass of water for when he’d awake, and noticed all the cards, flowers, and small gifts on the table, making your heart full. You were happy that Sonny was so loved, that his friends and coworkers cared about him so much. You smiled at the bouquet of roses you had sent him, pushed to the front so that he could see them clearly.

Sonny was only out for another 30 minutes, and he was groggy when he awoke, disorientated. Though, his dull eyes found you immediately, latching on to your face like he was trying to memorize you.

He opened his mouth, but you shook your head. “Don’t speak; save your throat. Here,” you lifted the glass of water to his lips, letting him drink his fill from the straw.

Even with your words, Sonny cleared his throat. “I thought something bad happened to you,” he murmured, words slightly slurred from the medication still in him. He blinked a few times, trying to focus his eyes.

“I’m safe, babe. I’m…so sorry to have made you worry. But I’m here; I’m safe.” You broke on the last word, tears streaming down your face. Sonny reached for your hand, squeezing you in comfort.

“I’m glad you’re safe…my beautiful rose…I love you,” Sonny whispered, kissing your knuckles.

You tried to control yourself. “I love you, too, Dominick. I’m glad you’re safe, too. Let’s just…worry about getting you back to full health.”

He nodded. “With you here, I feel better already.”

[heuristicallyinclined]

SPF Five Million or Whatever

Summary: Mspa Reader figures they need some sunlight and recruits a few friends to help them get it.

Rating: T for language

Notes: I haven't written any of the jades before and I really love them and tried my best to capture their dynamic. I really love imagining Mspa Reader's adventures between Friendsim and Pesterquest. I feel like the games were really just scratching the surface of their shenanigans.  

(AO3)

You are pretty sure that people need about twenty minutes of sunlight a day to stay healthy. 

Or at least that is what you think it is. You never really thought about it too much to be honest. Having spent a decent amount of time outside walking, you figured you were getting your daily dose in without much effort, and maybe you just didn’t realize how good you had it, not living on a planet that even passively was trying to kill you. Because right now, you know for a fact you’re getting the ideal amount of sunlight on Alternia, which in your personal experience is fucking ziltch.

You tried it once and learned pretty fast that what might leave you with a healthy glow on Earth, would leave you well done on Alternia, a disgusting state for any piece of meat to be in, let alone your body. So that was clearly an Earth exclusive recommendation. 

Still, you think some sunlight would do you good. 

Especially since you were starting to feel this constant exhaustion after a few months on Alternia. After ruling out your questionable diet and semi existent sleep schedule, you were left with the fact that you were likely getting a vitamin D deficiency. 

Frankly, you have not survived your various trials and many tribulations here on Alternia to let rickets be what finally kills you. Absolutely not. No. You’re too proud to die in the lamest way possible on a planet with significantly more respectable and less preventable ways of dying. 

This does mean you’ll have to face off with the Alternian sun, which really isn’t that much better on the lame death scale. Last time you got caught out during daylight, you got really lucky. You aren’t counting on a second time where a gorgeous cowgirl, alien Lassie, and a lot of dumb luck would happen to rescue you from your own poor life choices. 

So this time, you were going to try to be smart about doing something this monumentally stupid. You were going to get water, a floppy hat, and some ice packs. Now you just had to not do this alone, especially when you knew someone who touted the merits of the buddy system. 

Luckily, you also know a few people who could withstand the sun’s rays. 

Finding out that jadeblood sun resistance was in fact a real thing and not just the latest in fucking with the local alien made this a whole lot easier and left you with a few options to consider. You figured Wanshi was too young to be kept up that late and that you’d rather not traumatize her if this went sideways. Bronya mentioned being busy with a new brood hatching and managing the herd of lusii they attracted to the caverns so that was a no go. Lanque would likely be otherwise occupied or at least claim to be and you’d rather him not see you like this if you could help it. That left you with Daraya, who you knew would be up and likely be down for some alien shenanigans. But most importantly, Lynera.

One massive check in her favor is she already had experience inconspicuously carrying your injured body through the caverns unnoticed by literally anyone else to a secondary location So discretion was clearly already a strong suit of hers. The context for how she even got that much experience in the first place is none of your business, especially now that you’re friends. And you’d say you two were actually pretty close after all the time you’ve spent hanging out with her in the caverns and going out on little cafe trips.

Really, she was the ideal candidate for this by every observable metric. Well, almost.

While she is loyal enough that you knew that she would help you hide a body if asked, she has also threatened enough people for perceived slights against you that she would very likely be the reason there was a corpse hanging around in the first place. So having Daraya be there too was probably a safe move. 

Oh it’s all coming together now.

You were feeling really good about this. Your confidence in yourself, your friends, and your planning abilities carried you through two difficult conversations. One with a veneer of apathy trying to conceal some very real concern, the other incredibly loud and extremely worried, but you got through them and that’s what matters. 

So here you are at the brooding caverns, tucked away inside the turn just before the mouth, clad in some cool guy shades from Cirava, a sun hat from Charun, some shorts from Remele, and a Xoloto brand tank top complete with strategic ripping that makes it basically impossible to wear anywhere in public without a layer underneath. 

Your friends are right here with you. Lynera is alternating between pacing and fretting over the placement of your sun hat for the seventh time to really make sure your hair doesn’t ignite. You know it won’t and you told her it won’t, but you let her fuss. She just needs to do something with her hands to stay calm. You can at least let her have that with what you’re about to do. Daraya checks her palm husk again for the time as dawn steadily approaches. You take a deep breath in, psyching yourself up. 

So you never actually figured out what the Alternian sun equivalent to twenty minutes of Earth sun is. But you think a minute should be enough to do it and not pass out. It feels about right. You have based this off of no math whatsoever, but you’ve done worse with less prep, so you’re not going to let some nerd shit stop you. Especially not now, when you hear Daraya sigh. You know that it’s show time. 

You look at her to confirm as she pockets her device and you see some light begin to stretch into the cavern’s entrance. She looks at it too, frowning as it approaches.

“▲▲ try not to fry your pan ▼▼"

You give her a reassuring smile and run up through the mouth of the cave, and stop just past the entrance, arms up wide and outstretched, like you were doing the YMCA dance and lost rhythm just past the first letter, ready to receive that sunlight you so desperately craved. The sun hits your skin and there is a comfort in feeling’s its warmth after living in eternal night.

You really missed this.

...

Actually, you know what? No you don’t. Fuck this. 

That “gentle warmth” quickly became a scorching blaze and to your credit, you made it a solid ten seconds under the full wrath of that relentless bitch they called a sun before you decided to quit while you were ahead and conscious. You dash back towards the entrance, uncomfortably aware of every step you take. Lynera stops nervously pacing and stiffens when you reenter the shade and runs towards you. Daraya is ready and quickly hands you a water bottle. You struggle to open the cap because of the condensation making the bottle slick and it exacerbates the painful tingle you’re feeling all over your hands. And your face. And your everything actually. 

You continue struggling until you finally succeed in twisting the cap off, but your victory immediately proves to be a hollow one, as your tight grip on the bottle has water going everywhere. 

God. Damn. It. 

You’re vaguely cognisant of a screeching sound somewhere behind you, but you have more important concerns right now. By some absolute miracle, a decent amount of the water seems to have gotten on you and saturated your top, soothing the skin under it. You feel less like you’re on fire and more like you had marinated your entire body in icy-hot for a few hours before getting deep fried. 

You’d like to believe that that is a much more manageable situation. Your skin can’t tell much of a difference though so you waste no time and pour the rest out all over your face like you were a champ who just scored the winning goal instead of a dipshit speedrunning skin cancer. 

Daraya mercifully cracks a cold one with the boys and pours the contents of another water bottle on you like you were a plant she forgot to water. The cool sensation on your skin causes you to sigh in a relief that doesn’t last long, before you lose contact with the ground. Lynera has you thrown over her shoulder and starts quickly making her way back into the caverns to her respiteblock. The physical contact takes that previous painful tingle and absolutely fucking floors it, bringing you to a familiar world of pain that your ass was very content not revisiting. Daraya keeps pace behind the two of you with her arms crossed the face of someone who is totally not panicked.

You try to calm them, telling them you feel better already. Really, you mean it. 

This just causes Lynera to speed up and Daraya to grimace down at you instead of giving you an actual response. 

While, yes, you resent having flesh, you actually feel really awake right now. 

Daraya narrows her eyes. “▲▲ you mean from the pain? ▼▼”

No. No. That's different. And way more familiar. 

God. Despite looking like a freshly hatched octogenarian, Lynera can really book it. 

She carries your limp, increasingly dizzy body with ease. You knew she was deceptively strong and fast first hand, based off of her being able to immediately able to knock you the fuck out and lug you back to her combination study block murder dungeon. Honestly, being able to do anything with an alien discreetly deserves commendation. Commendation up and out the wazoo. 

You’re about to attempt to try to verbalize that thought, but just before the turn to get to Lynera's study block, she suddenly stops. She nervously glances between this hallway and another adjacent one one. Daraya almost bumps into her but stops herself just in time. 

"▲▲▲ what are you doing? We said we were just going to put them in a spare recuperacoon ▼▼▼" Daraya whisper yells. 

"They're a new color Daraya !!!" Lynera whisper yells to the point of negating the whisper part of the whisper yell and more just using a normal speaking volume with a hiss. “-they need !!! A medicull kit !!!”

Oh. You glance down at one of your dangling arms. That happened fast. In retrospect, you should have mentioned that was a thing that would potentially happen. How did you forget that?  

“▲▲▲ and do what? A medicull kit could make them worse. We don’t know shit about aliens ▼▼▼”

“-!!! well how would you know all of their injuries were taken care of! that we didnt miss anything!”  

“▲ they’re fine. We just, I don't fucking know? Rotate them in the slime? ▼”

“-like some sort of !!! rotisserie cluckbeast !!!” Lynera indignantly whisper shrieks. 

"▲▲ No!▼▼" Daraya quickly defends. The way her eyes quickly glance to the side seems to imply that's kind of exactly what it's like. 

Just like them rotisserie chickens. 

The longer their arguing went on, the more uncomfortably aware you were getting about the fact that you had a body and Lynera's clothes felt like steel wool grating against your poor skin. That and describing what they were doing as “whisper arguing” was becoming more and more of a stretch as it went on and started to get louder. You were worried you were going to attract unwanted attention. 

It is as soon as you have that thought, that a door opens, and you see an irritated Lanque groggily peek his head through to find the source of the commotion. 

His face remains still at first, blinking tiredly as he takes in the fuckery and only opens the door wider when the other two turn at the sound of his door opening and he registers you slumped over Lynera’s shoulder with a single raised brow. 

You smile and wave at him, despite how lightheaded her turn had you feeling, and Daraya quickly pulls your hand down and stands in front of you like there was nothing to see here. You let out a weak, “ow,” as she did, your flesh protesting at the touch. She glances back at you quickly, before exasperatedly turning to look back at Lanque with her arms crossed.

“▲▲ what? ▼▼”

He measuredly looks at the scene before him. Really taking in all of the bullshit before side eyeing Lynera. 

“You threW the alien into broad daylight? EVen for you, that's crazy.” He almost sounds surprised, before smiling sweetly, “NoW Who’s going to tolerate you?” 

Lynera sputters something, clearly offended, but Daraya cuts her off with a groan, 

“▲ they literally need sunlight to live Lanque ▼”

His face twists. “Are they a fucking plant?” 

“-no!!!" Lynera considers for a moment before yelling again just as loud. “-most likely not!!!”

He looks from your trio, to the small puddle of water forming under you, and glances back to the trail of water you apparently had dripping from you this whole time. 

You know, you’re really starting to see the plant angle here. 

“▲▲ look they just needed some stupid sunlight and we hung around to make sure they didn’t just get too cooked or whatever. What, are you going to tell Bronya on us? ▼▼" Daraya half mocks, half asks.

“No, of course not.” Lanque almost seems offended. “I don’t see any reason to inVolVe myself With you tWo Watching the alien give themselVes sun sickness.”

You ask no one in particular what sun sickness is.

“-can aliens get sun sickness???” Lynera asks with a newfound panic.

Lanque irritatedly replies, “HoW Would I knoW?” 

You feel briefly dejected that no one answered. Until another thought crosses your mind. It wasn’t related to anything occurring at the moment, but it was weird enough that you don’t know how this was the first time you had ever really thought about it. Maybe the events of this morning were what it took for you to even be able consider this quandary. 

Why do they say troll before a name? Like troll Will Smith? Doesn’t that imply there is another kind of WIll Smith? Like if they’re all trolls, why say troll? Oh shit, is that why they do it? Did you tell them about human Will Smith or would that be like human Whillh Smithh? Human Willhh Smyyth? 

You rack your mind for other ways of making Will Smith a valid troll name, concentration evident on your face. 

Lanque looks at you like you’re an idiot. “What the fuck are you talking about? You're just repeating the same name.”

The spelling? You narrow your eyes as you consider the spelling. It is the clearest thing in the world right now to you. It’s spelled different Lanque.

“I can’t hear how it’s spelled.”

Daraya’s eyes widen. "▲▲ They fried their fucking pan ▼▼ " 

You still don’t know what sun sickness is, but you strongly suspect you may have it, especially since most of what happened afterwards was kind of a blur. 

What you think you can remember is the sound of someone coming. Quick, determined footsteps that you couldn’t recognize, but Lynera clearly could as she stiffened first. She maybe said something about Bronya doing a curfew round? You think? Either way, it had everyone else on immediate edge and was enough for Lanque to decide this wasn’t worth staying awake for. He made a final comment and you heard a door shut, leaving your trio behind. 

Daraya and Lynera exchanged words, finally remembering the “whisper” part of whisper yelling. They came to an agreement of some sort with Lynera nodding and heading to her studyblock and Daraya going off in the direction of what was probably Bronya.

Mentally, you are pressing F to pay your respects. Physically though, you register your orientation rapidly shifting. While you weren’t crazy about your position over Lynera's shoulder, what with her sweater vest grating against your torso and all, it turns out you enjoyed being moved out of it even less. The blood running away from your head had you feeling woozy in a whole new way.

To her credit, Lynera did not just immediately dunk you into the recuperacoon a la Space Jam like you’re sure she wanted to. She instead carefully lets you sink into it with a gentleness that starkly contrasted her worry. Normally, you would say that being put into a vat of slime is not an experience you would be looking forward to. Right now though, you’re loving it. It is an absolute godsend as it acts a cool balm against your skin.

Lynera continues and gingerly removes your shades and places them on an end table next to your sunhat. You were about to thank her and let her know she was in fact “a real one,” but you got cut off by her grabbing a handful of slime and smearing it on your face. 

You sputter and instinctively try to move away, but you’re no match for her. She’s dealt with fussy grubs with sharp teeth for way too long to actually be deterred by your feeble efforts to resist. You don’t know how you’d rate the experience between, “children haphazardly covering you in slick grease paint” to “alien clay mask ensuring you don’t have enough skin to even entertain having clogged pores,” but you aren’t in a position to be opposed to it. It actually feels kinda nice when it’s in a smooth, even layer and not a huge fucking dollop on your face. 

When she’s done, she wipes her hands while saying something to you. You don’t really register it, so you just kinda smile and nod. It’s your usual go to when you aren’t quite sure what is happening around you and it hasn’t led you too astray in the very many times you’ve done it. You’ll just ask her what she said in the evening.

Lynera seems pleased and starts moving to turn off the lights. Before she does, you thank her. She smiles at you, the corners of her eyes crinkling, and glances back at you as she goes, leaving you feeling warm inside and out for two extremely different reasons. 

You settle down, trying to get cozy. You're not going to pretend you know much about sopor slime. You assumed it comes from a plant and haven't tried to confirm that little theory of yours because you need to believe that for your own sake. It's plant goo. From some kind of alien aloe vera or something. An extremely fleshy plant just ripe with goo for the taking. If you ever learn otherwise, no you didn't. 

After you wake up and wipe off the slime, you find that you’ve healed surprisingly quickly. You’re still very tender to the touch, you find that out real fast, but your skin looks a lot less irritated than when you last saw it. This bit of good news and vitamin d that you assume you now have coursing through your veins that hopefully was not mostly used up on healing your skin, puts a little pep in your step as you get ready for the night. Before you exit the caverns, you feel a pang of hunger.

You can practically hear Bronya reminding you how breakfast is the most important meal of the day, so you walk into the meal block, figuring that no one would mind too much if you grabbed a breakfast bar or two before you left. Maybe you’ll even get lucky and find the ones that kind of taste like peanut butter and are crunchy for reasons you’d rather not identify. You aren’t alone when you enter. Lanque is there, sitting at a table. He looks up from his palm husk and eyes you.

“Did you change color?”

Yeah. Humans being exposed to sunlight makes them create a protective pigment so they're more able to be exposed to the sun.

“I’m fascinated.” he says, anything but. “So you're going to turn jade?” 

No, more of a slightly darker version of what you are now. 

He hums, now totally disinterested and looking back down at his chittr feed. Guess the limits of your rainbowdrinker like attributes have worn off on him. 

Anyways, this just means that this will be easier next time you go out during the day. 

That statement gives him pause. Lanque looks up from his palm husk, looking out before glancing at you dubiously. 

"Next time?" 

[howaboutleeches]

since you don't have anon on I will be brave: Jules, mafia au, meetcute, "are you sure this is legal"

                                Dangerous Affairs

Word Count: 1,768

It was early. Like early early. Your boss had called you almost at midnight asking you to come earlier the next day. You were aiming to get a promotion, and in other to facilitate things, you had to make your boss happy, and that’s why you agreed. But damn, 5am is way too early. 

You worked in a really cute flower shop, very well-known around Vesuvia. It was a cute but very popular place, especially after the Countess ordered a bunch of flowers from there, which made everyone want to do the same, of course. That made the shop get busier, and you as well.

You fished the keys out of your pocket and unlocked the front door, doing your best to not bump into any vases, or else you knew it would come out of your payment. You quickly got in and turned on the lights, noticing how you and one other shop were the only ones open at the time, as expected at such an early hour.

White roses, pink note. White roses, pink note. You kept repeating that to yourself along the way and inside the shop as well, keeping in mind exactly what you had to do. Some company was celebrating their anniversary and one of the employees would come by around 6am to pick the flowers up.

It could've been at any time of the day, but there would be way more things involved so they booked to pick the flowers at first dawn to start things as soon as possible.

Going to the back of the shop, you quickly located the flowers and the note, starting to bring the large vases to the front, where they would be easier to bring outside. It took way longer than you expected and when the last vase was brought to the front, a ray of sunlight hit your face, noticing it was time to start the real work.

You sat on the counter and it didn't take long until a large van pulled up in front of the store, displaying the company's name on its side. You moved yourself to open the door and make sure it stayed like that, starting to bring the vases outside. You could feel your arm muscles burning from carrying all that.

Luckily, the trunk door was unlocked, so all you did was open it and start putting it all inside. But the second part turned out to be harder than you expected. Dragging the vase was one thing. Lifting it was hard work. You did your best, with grunts and all, and started to lift the vase, it being a few inches from the floor.

The vase became weightless, and your back became warmer. The presence behind you came so suddenly you didn't even hear it. Large gloved hands held the vase from behind you, carefully lifting and placing it inside. With one swift motion, one of the roses was removed from the vase.

You turned around to see whoever it war the person who helped you and a tall figured man stood behind you, his red hair charmingly falling on his face. Upon seeing your face he smirked, and the rose on his hand was gently placed behind your ear.

"A rose to a rose. Don't worry, they won't notice one of them is gone. And besides, it looks way better on your than on those dull vases" He smiled and slightly bowed, keeping his eyes on you.

Words weren't formed on your brain as you watched him walk to the store and start to lift those vases as if they weighed nothing. You took the opportunity to check inside the van, seeing all the other things the company must've had bought for the celebration.

It surprised you to see other flowers there. You've seen them somewhere, in some book. You cautiously entered the van, getting close to the flowers and gave them a sniff. Your eyes widened in realization.

"Beautiful, isn't it? I'm afraid we had to order that from...another flower shop. You see, they're not very common"

The voice from behind you made you jump. You couldn't understand the situation. He was acting so calm about it, and you felt as if the situation wasn't exactly quite what it seemed.

"You do know what those are right?" Your first words to him. For a few moments, it was like he got distracted by your voice. He took a few seconds to snap back to reality.

"Well, flowers, aren't they? And they look stunning. Will definitely have an impact" He smiled innocently, but his eyes told a different story.

"Nerium Oleander. This flower is extremely poisonous!" You exclaimed, feeling unusually worried about the stranger's well-being.

"Oh, are they? Well, the company told me to get them so...." He simply shrugged, seeming unbothered by the fact.

"Are you sure this is legal? You could get into some serious trouble for caring this around" You replied, still inside the van. He seemed to be blocking your passage, but maybe not on purpose.

"Absolutely sure dear, don't worry about that" He placed the last vase and extended a hand to you, which you gladly took, pulling you out of the van "I think I was supposed to come inside to leave the payment?"

"Oh yes, sure thing" I nod and walk inside, holding the door for him.

Once we get in the shop again, I go behind the counter and start to look around for the spreadsheet with all the information regarding the price. I found it on a nearby chair and turned around to grab it. Turning around, I placed it on the table along with a pan and slid it closer to him.

"Just please put your signature there and we're all done" You gave him a tired smile.

He looked up at you and smirked before leaning down a bit, grabbing the pen and writing on the paper attached to the spreadsheet. You could see his eyes rasing a bit, eyeing your name tag. He finished writing, his writing was truly beautiful, and handed you the sheet back, a warm smile on his face.

“It was a pleasure meeting you this morning Y/n. I thought this morning would be dull, but your presence sure made it exciting” 

He gave you a side smile and turned around in a swift motion, walking towards the door. You felt your head on the clouds while talking to him, his mere presence making you feel calm. So call, so peaceful and so careless that you forgot to ask for his name.

You heard the bell on the door, signaling that it had been closed and quickly lunged forward. You opened the door again, noticing the mysterious man already getting in the van. You quickly rushed to the driver’s side and knocked on the window, catching him by surprise. He jumped a bit on his seat and opened a smile again. As he rolled down the window you noticed he was different.

His work vest was unbuttoned and open, showing a fancy suit underneath it. His hair was slightly pushed back and he had sunglasses tucked on it, apparently very expensive ones. You gave it a curious look before he put his face closer to yours, bringing you back to reality.

“Y-You never said your name....” You said softly, still trying to figure that man out.

From the other end of the avenue, you hear police sirens. Although very low, there were definitely many. Six cars at least. He chuckled, unphased by the sound, and smirked.

“My name? You’ll know it very soon” He reached inside the car, opening the glove compartment and pulled out a black business card, holding it between his middle and index finger “Make sure to watch the news tonight”

And with that, he winked and took off. Not even two minutes later, several police cars passed you while you were still outside. Their noise caught your attention and you finally looked down at the card.

One side was completely black, the paper was a shiny tone, making it glisten as you moved it. When you turned it around, you saw something written in denim letters, a color close to blood.

J. Devorak

You could’ve sworn you heard that name before, you just didn’t know where. You shrugged and went back inside, keeping the card in your pocket the whole day. Work went by relatively fast and you dragged yourself home. Only in the middle of the way you reminded what the stranger from earlier had told you.  Make sure to watch the news tonight. With that in mind, you rushed to your house, almost tripping in the way as you quickly made your way through the streets. 

You quickly unlocked the door and searched for your remote. Once in your hand, you turned the TV on, browsing through the channels and selecting the most famous news one. Almost immediately, the anchor turned to the camera, a serious expression on her face.

“Now, we’d like to address a serious issue that happened this morning. An attack happened during a famous event this morning. The event consisted of the anniversary of the Wisecrest Company, owned by Kellaway Wisecrest. He had been accused of stealing donation money for personal usage recently but walked away freely. Apparently, someone decided to take justice into their own hands. A large number of poisonous flowers were delivered to Wisecrest’s personal room right before the party began, disguised with other non lethal white roses”

“Needless to say, he did not participate in the celebration. During the time, he was unconscious in his room. While that happened, someone hacked into his personal archives and leaked all his information, confirming to the crimes. Wisecrest is now being held in prison, waiting for his trial. The police believes that the Vesuvian mafia could be involved, making Julian Devorak one of the main suspects”

You could feel your jaw dropping. The man who did all that, the same man who charmed you this morning, worked for the mafia!?

“Julian Devorak is a very known mafia leader, also known as “The Mafia Robin Wood”. If he is in case responsible, this wouldn’t be the first time where he did something like this. As the investigation progresses, we will keep the public informed”

As you heard the anchor changing the subject, you slowly pulled the card off your pocket. But now it was different. Where it before was written J. Devorak, now showed, in the same denim letters Jules. And on the back part where there was nothing, a phone number.

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

I really hope you enjoy this, I’m sorry for the delay. 

I hadn’t noticed about the anon part 😅, but it’s available now!

Have a nice day! 💕🌻

[botwstoriesandsuch]

Nintendo said 2-4 business days so Age of Calamity should be at my house either today, tomorrow, or Wednesday so that’s exciting!

Just gonna shovel a few mini thoughts and theories because all my thoughts either get validated or obliterated by the game, spoilers obviously, based on the stuff I know

And obviously don’t reply or reblog with confirmation of anything until I play the game thamk ;-;

- I know this game has time travel and a fucking youtube thumbnail spoiled me on the fact that the new gen champs will be there but I guess that’s ok since I already speculated as such based on the datamine, but anyhow, Botw 2 trailer shows Hyrule without any shrines or towers, does it take place in the past? Probably not considering you can still see the Garrison ruins and stuff so the Calamity still happened whenever that takes place but who knows. I can’t tell if Hyrule Castle is in ruin yet

- Pretty sure the other characters like Hestu and Kohga and such will be playable. At the very least King Rhoam is the most likely based on this stuff from the Creating a Champion book 

- Also while we’re on the thought of playable characters, pretty sure Maz Koshia is playable too. And based on that and the fact that time travel exists and the fact that the tapestry of 10k years ago is a thing, maybe we time travel to 10k years ago and fight the original original battle against the Calamity 

- So a lot of the old landmarks are actually gonna be important in the game (Like Rauru being the blacksmith element) so I’m thinking these areas might be visited or deemed important at some point 

(I mean, that’s what I would use anyhow as a game designer. You can’t just have cool locations and not use them)

- I’m pretty sure you first meet Hestu on the way to the Lost Woods to pull out the Master Sword and I’m thinking each korok seed you find is a way to like, level up his attacks to when you eventually play as them at some point. Or maybe he does those korok trial things that we see in botw idk the korok forest is a big place

- You know that time travel trope where you have like a photo or painting that changes in real time depending on events that time traveling people do in the past? well

I’m thinking the tapestry is gonna act like that considering the one in Age of Calamity is already super different. 1) The castle at the top is white and polished whereas the botw one isn’t 2) There’s two pilots for each beast (again the whole new gen champs teaming up thing) and 3) the eggbot fades into the tapestry in real time so yeah pretty sure this is a story telling device for timetravel (and also kinda further hones the theory that they’re traveling back to 10k years ago)

[botw one for reference]

- Kohga is probably gonna be playable but is this game gonna do that thing where the badguys fight and team up with the heros to take on the bigger threat?? I really hope it doesn’t...but then again Kohga is the only “bad” character from the datamine and he is pretty gullible so maybe he has a redemption or something and that’s why we play as them but who knows. Hopefully I’m wrong and I know that in old HW games you can play as the bad guy so we’ll see I guess

- Oh right and I completely forgot the great fairies were a thing maybe they work similar to the blacksmith and you can complete their quests to upgrade armour?

- uhhhhhh Chapter 2 of Mipha is just gonna be rescuing Sidon from a Lynel and Chapter 2 of Urbosa is breaking into the Yiga Hideout to beat Kohga

- Also will Kilton be here? I feel like Kilton will be here

- I also completely forgot that Daruk paragliding was a thing...although now that my mind is “clear” I think that that’s probably just a cutscene transition or something, like having the Champions paraglide to the different locations in Hyrule Field from the Central Tower. It’s certainly framed that way in the trailer scene and also yeah I know it’s probably also used for combat and stuff

- Watch there be a variant of that with Link and a cucco I’m calling it now 

[monomonomagines]

How the V3 boys react to their s/o being accused of being the blackened because they have no alibi, but only for their s/o confess their accidentally saw the boys doing something really embarrassing alone and didn’t want to embarrass them, but otherwise thankfully confirmed innocent?

Funny story about your request Anon. I accidentally wrote this where the boys were being accused of being the blackened so I ended up with two versions of this. Anyways, I hope that even with me goofing this up and taking a while that you still enjoy the edited version where I didn’t mess up. If not though feel free to ask me to fix this up and I gladly will. 

Rantaro

When you had been suddenly cornered in the class trial, Rantaro was suspicious.

He didn't want to suspect you but you were supposed to show up to his room last night and never showed as far as he was sure.

And then to have no alibi? It was suspicious, far too suspicious.

However, when you finally did blurt out your alibi he couldn't help but for his normally calm expression to turn into one of shock.

Wait you did come by his room?

Apparently not only did you come by but you witnessed that embarrassing moment when he leaned down and ripped his pants.

He was so caught up in the moment that apparently he didn't hear you even close the door either.

Thankfully that meant you were innocent but Rantaro's face was red for most of that trial.

"I'm sorry for suspecting you S/o. This....this is pretty embarrassing."

Rantaro knows with Kokichi around he won't live this down unless he scared him half to death.

Ryoma

During the class trial, Ryoma couldn't believe it when you didn't have an alibi.

How could you have done something as awful as murder?

He'd be pretty skeptical, maybe one of the most since he's used to life taking away the things most precious to him.

What he didn't expect though was when you admitted you had an alibi.

That and your alibi was that you had come to check on him only to turn back after you overheard him talking to a tennis ball.

This was so uncool.

How could he face anyone after they all know that he basically went on a depressed ramble to his tennis equipment?

"I see. Sorry for suspecting you, S/o. That was uncool of me."

He doesn't want to acknowledge that everyone knows his little secret so he'd just focus on making things up to you.

Kokichi at least is too scared of Ryoma to remind you all but he isn't going to forget.

Korekiyo

Korekiyo like Rantaro and Ryoma isn't above suspecting his S/o.

For you to have no alibi was strange, very strange indeed.

However, unlike the other two, he'd make it more like a game of cat and mouse cornering you with the others.

He'd question you more than anyone else

However, as much as he wasn't expecting you to actually be guilty he also wasn't expecting you to admit that you caught him brushing his hair and singing folk songs in front of the mirror.

He was flabbergasted, to say the least, but he was also a tad embarrassed that the others had learned of his nightly grooming ritual.

He lets out a small laugh, his true feeling hidden by his calm demeanor and mask as he simply states, "So you caught me in the middle of grooming. How embarrassing. However, it does provide you with an alibi nonetheless."

Kokichi isn't even going to think about teasing Kiyo, even if he's the one that is most likely to remember other's embarrassing secrets.

Kiyo is scary when he makes threats.

Gonta

It wasn't a well-known fact that Gonta slept naked but it wouldn't be secret for long.

As soon as you were cornered, Gonta couldn't even attempt to question you.

He was so scared of you being the blackened that he felt as though it was hard to breathe.

As soon as your alibi came up though he was struggling to breathe for a whole other reason.

He had no clue that you two would have to mention that incident where he was ungentlemanly.

He already was so embarrassed just with you seeing him naked and when you had to tell the rest of the class it just worsened.

"No, Gonta didn't want everyone to know that he's so ungentlemanly. Gonta so ashamed!"

He will nearly cry out of shame in the trial and afterwards, everyone is more focused on consoling him than apologizing for suspecting you.

Gonta will apologize for them though and probably for flashing you again.

Kokichi will probably try to use the incident to blackmail the poor boy though.

Kokichi

Kokichi would already know that you've seen him in the act, unlike the others.

He would feign innocent though the whole trial, pinning you as the blackened for having no alibi.

He'd want to push you into a corner until you'd have no choice but to tell the rest of his class.

It was weirdly a fun game for him even if it was his own embarrassing secret that's on the line.

Once you did play into his hands though he'd just act surprised.

"Awww you saw me impersonating everyone else while I was making my profiles!? How embarrassing!"

He doesn't seem embarrassed at all but he actually is quite embarrassed deep down.

He'll play it off or actually go into more detail depending on how he feels and he won't bother to apologize.

He'll just change the subject and laugh off any questions.

Kaito

For you not to have an alibi was shocking to Kaito.

He knew though that there was no way you were the blackened.

You had to have some alibi you just haven't thought of yet.

He'd remind you that he believes in you and to just try to explain to your best ability.

That statement would soon turn against him though as soon as you had to break to the class that you caught Kaito flexing in the mirror.

Eyes wide and face red Kaito could only look on in shock for a good while.

However, once he realizes that you did have an alibi he covers up with his usual confident attitude.

"See, I told you, you had an alibi! You just had to think about it!"

He'd grin at you giving you a thumbs up but before the end of the trial, there'd be a lot of arguing.

Kaito gets bashed a lot for flexing that day and Kokichi would make sure it's not just that day.

Kiibo

Kiibo was used to getting bashed on during the class trials but this was different.

You had been cornered by everyone else and the fact that you had no alibi could nearly be incriminating.

"Please, S/o say something! I know you're not the blackened!"

He pleads, pressing you to respond. However, he'd soon come to regret doing so.

You had walked into his room since you forgot something when you saw the bathroom light on.

It was odd for him to be in there since he couldn't use it but you decided to check up on him when you noticed the door ajar and heard, someone using the bathroom?

You peeked in without thinking only to see Kiibo pouring a cup of water into the toilet as he stood in front of it speaking to himself.

"Ah I see, this must be what it feels like to be able to use the bathroom."

You wanted to pretend you never saw that but it was the alibi you had so, going into as little detail as possible.

Either way, Kiibo was extremely embarrassed and Miu and Kokichi aren't going to stop teasing him at all.

"I'm sorry that we had to doubt you S/o. I'm glad you're innocent but that still was rather embarrassing."

Shuichi

Shuichi was easy to embarrass.

This was no new fact although it wasn't too common for him to get so embarrassed in a class trial.

When you had no alibi, he knew you'd have to divulge what had happened between the two of you and he was not looking forward to it.

You had to tell him something about one of the books he lent you apparently and he had said that he could speak with you about it after he freshened up.

The only issue was, he was late to hop into the shower and he forgot to bring his clothes into the bathroom with him.

He didn't hear any moving or anything so he decided to quickly run out to grab his clothes as soon as you opened the door.

Now the whole class knew and he was turning bright red.

"I'm glad to see that you did have an Alibi, after all, S/o. That's quite embarrassing though."

Kokichi will never let him live this down.

[cinaja]

Before the Wall part 42

Masterlist

----

Two months after Miryam and Drakon decided to attempt a relationship, they are sitting are sitting in Miryam’s drawing room together with Andromache and Zeku. Miryam and Drakon share a seat on the couch while Zeku and Andromache each took one of the armchairs. Between them, papers lie strewn out over a table. They are preparing for the meeting tomorrow, coordinating their opinions and making sure that they all agree on what to do any say.

The four of them are the usual group for meetings like this. Miryam is obviously there, although not in her function as de-facto leader of the Alliance, but as leader of their fraction. (Officially, there are no fractions in the Alliance, but in reality, they very much exist. Miryam’s is the biggest, consisting of all the humans – at least since she put her quarrel with Nakia aside – as well as those Fae who actually care about equality.) Andromache is there for the humans (not technically their leader, but while Scythia under Nakia is in charge of the military, Andromache spearheads politics) and Zeku for the Fae (not their leader at all, but closest to Miryam). Drakon isn’t there to represent anyone, but he wrote the proposal they are discussing, which means he has been invited to these meetings lately.

What they are discussing today is the sixth draft of Drakon’s original proposal, and somehow, he doubts that it will be the last one. They keep quarrelling over territory lines and new power positions, discussing the same points over and over again. By now, they have at least agreed that each of the Loyalist territories will be forced to yield part of their territory proportionally to the human population, allowing the humans to form independent territories. Other points remain less secure.

“Why are there no reparations specified in that contract?” Zeku asks.

“There are,” Drakon says, “Section three. Each freed slave is allowed to take as much they can carry from their owner’s household. And there will be trials for atrocities the enemies committed.”

Miryam shifts through her copy of the proposal. She is leaning against Drakon, he has an arm around her shoulders. In the beginning, they were hesitant about how much affection they could show in public, with only Andromache, Mor, Sinna and Nephelle knowing the truth, but by now, they are nearly certain that no one notices anything strange about their behaviour. (“What did you expect?” Nephelle asked, laughing, when he mentioned it to her. “You two were close enough already that the difference is near-impossible to notice.”)

“Yes, sure.” Zeku picks up a grape from the plate. “But what about reparations paid to the winner? It is common for the defeated party to somehow compensate the other side for the costs of war.”

Drakon sighs. He knew this would come, knew the Fae especially would likely disagree. “There hasn’t been a war of a comparable scale in millennia,” he says. “The entire Continent is in ruin. If we force the Loyalist countries to pay for this, we’ll bankrupt them for centuries.”

Neither Miryam nor Andromache look particularly disturbed at the thought. Andromache shrugs. “So what? Much as I appreciate your generosity, I don’t particularly care if the Loyalists have economic problems after this.”

“You will if you consider the long-term consequences,” Drakon says. He sincerely hopes he doesn’t sound like he’s defending the Loyalists. “I’m not saying this out of sympathy for the ither side, but because I don’t want us to get dragged into another war in a few decades or centuries.”

Zeku frowns at him. “Aren’t you exaggerating a little there? This has been common practice for millennia.”

“And every time the victor when too far, another war was the consequence . Take Akele and Merin,” he says, referring to two territories on the western Continent that have been locked in war for just over a thousand years. It all started when Akele defeated Merin in war and bled the country dry for compensation.

He looks around at the others. “The Loyalists’ economy is built around slavery – without it, it will struggle. If we add huge debts to that, it will collapse entirely.” He looks to Andromache and Miryam, who don’t seem upset at all. “I realize that this may not feel like a bad thing – even I would like to see them pay, and I have far less cause than you do. But any satisfaction this might bring won’t last, because if we do this, we’ll never have true peace. We will need constant military presence in the former Loyalist countries, we will have to keep them down for eternity. Because the moment we relax our guard, they will strike back.”

Miryam and Andromache exchange another look. Now, they do seem concerned. Zeku presses his lips together and looks down at his fingers.

“That won’t be easily sold to the Fae,” he warns.

“Or the humans,” Andromache adds.

Miryam frowns. “Are you sure about this?” She asks.

Drakon considers for a moment, then nods. “We can’t push the Loyalists completely to the ground,” he says. “If we abolish slavery and then let them all fall into poverty, they will always wish to go back to the times before this war. There will be no moving on.”

“It isn’t just the economy, though,” Andromache says. “It’s not like they enslave us out of necessity – “ Drakon flinches and she shakes her head. “Don’t look at me like that, I know that wasn’t what you were saying. But still. The problem is that they think us lesser. And that won’t change if we allow them to keep their economy.”

Yes, Drakon knows this. But finding a way to end bigotry that has been festering in Fae society for millennia seems nearly impossible. He’s just over thirty years old, and he’s expected to solve a millennia-old problem? All he can do is identify the biggest possible pitfalls and try to find solutions, but he has no way of knowing if those will actually work. It’s not ideal, but he doesn’t know another way to approach this than to work step by step.

“Humans will have their own countries,” he says. “If we manage to establish that as the status quo, it will be a solid first step. Then we work on establishing trade between the human and Fae countries. Trading partners rarely attack each other – it isn’t good for the economy. And trade always brings countries and people closer together.”

Many of the Loyalists, of course, wouldn’t be pleased by the idea of trading with the humans. But that’s another thing they agreed upon – the Loyalist countries would be put under Alliance administration for the time being. Rulers would need to be replaced with ones more open to the new course, and the Alliance would maintain a presence until things had stabilized.

Miryam flips through the pages of Drakon’s proposal. “There’s also the section about adding a clause to Continental law that allows full legal protection to all humans,” she says. “We’d just need to find a way to get that law put into action, but otherwise, it should help.”

Zeku nods. He has opened his copy and is studying the lines, frowning. Drakon pours himself a glass of water and takes a sip. These discussions are nerve-wracking. It’s entirely different from having to work out a text for university and then discussing it with the other students. Then, it was only about a grade, maybe his father’s approval. Now, it’s the entire continent at stake. Miryam takes his hand and squeezes, smiling at her.

“I know this isn’t entirely the subject,” Zeku says without looking up from the paper, “But would it be possible to include lesser faeries in that law?”

Drakon bites back a curse. Of course, how could he forget about that? When he was still in university, most of the essays he wrote were about the situation faeries face, especially in countries like Montesere. But now, his focus was entirely on the humans – enough that he forgot about the second group of people who aren’t treated as equal on the Continent.

“Don’t they have legal protection already?” Andromache asks.

Zeku shakes his head. “Not in general Continental law. It’s up to their countries to decide which rights they have, but outside of that, the situation is unclear.”

Andromache frowns. “But aren’t you and Drakon…” She pauses. “Can I say ‘lesser faeries’? It sounds disrespectful.”

“I believe that’s the point,” Zeku says drily. His blue skin darkens considerably. “But if you’d like to avoid that, you can simply say ‘faeries’.”

Andromache nods. “Okay. So, you’re both faeries, not High Fae. You’re still royalty.”

“We’re similar enough in power and looks that they don’t mind us as much,” Zeku says. Drakon nods in confirmation.

Privilege on the Continent has always been largely tied to power. Humans don’t have any, High Fae have the most. Most faeries lie somewhere in between, powerful in their own rights, but with abilities that are largely tied to the land and far more specific than those of the High Fae. Both Drakon’s and Zeku’s people have strong elemental powers, though – more High Fae-like – and most people simply pretend they are High Fae.

“I’ll include something,” Drakon says.

He can’t believe he didn’t think of it himself. He knows about the issues faeries face all over the Continent as well as Zeku does. Both Sangravah and Erithia have laws that grant faeries equal rights and, consequently, far larger faerie populations than most other countries.

“We can include that?” He asks, turning to Miryam and Andromache. “Right?”

“Sure,” Andromache says. “Wouldn’t do for us to win this war and abolish slavery only for these asshole High Fae to turn around and enslave a different species.”

Miryam looks down at the proposal and smiles. “If we get this to work,” she says, “we’re truly going to change the world.”

----

Mor runs a hand through her hair. She spent most of the day sitting in her tent in Andromache’s camp, looking through a book her uncle’s servants dug up from somewhere inside the Hewn City. Ever since the High Lord mentioned the possible uses of her gift to her, she tried to find out as much as possible about it.

Unfortunately, most of the texts regarding the Morrigan powers belong to the private collection of Mor’s family, meaning her father, and ancient contracts forbid even the High Lord from accessing those and the last Morrigan died over a century before Mor was born, and as far as mor knows, he didn’t have any special abilities either.

Truth is deadly, Mor reads, Truth is freedom. Truth can break and mend and bind. The author, Mor has decided, has an unfortunate flair for being dramatic and overly poetic instead of helpful. Pages upon pages and not a single solid explanation of what Mor’s powers do, much less how they are used.

“Stupid book,” Mor mutters and closes it.

“I don’t understand why you’re so fascinated by this,” Andromache says. She’s lying on her stomach on Mor’s bed, papers strewn out over the pillow before her.

“Wouldn’t you be fascinated if you found out you might be in possession of powers like these?”

Andromache purses her lips and shrugs. “No.”

“No?” Mor echoes. “Not even a little bit?”

“No.” Andromache picks up a letter and starts methodically ripping it apart. “Humans don’t have powers, and I, for my part, am perfectly content with it.”

Mor frowns. She heard this philosophy from quite a few humans already, but she never quite believed it. It always seemed more like the kind of thing people would say to console themselves over the fact that they don’t have any magic.

“Besides,” Andromache continues, “I have yet to meet a person who was overly powerful and happy with it. Discounting complete assholes like Artax, obviously.”

“Rhys isn’t unhappy,” Mor says, “And Miryam isn’t either.”

Andromache makes a noise that might be interpreted as agreement, but she remains silent. She turns her attention to the next letter and starts ripping it apart as well.

“And now you want to be like Miryam?” She asks. She still sounds sceptical, not at al like she’s pleased with Mor’s plans.

Mor shrugs. She obviously doesn’t want to be exactly like Miryam. But she genuinely cannot see what is so wrong with wanting to be similar, especially when it comes to power. Who wouldn’t want that? Miryam is untouchable. Everyone likes and respects her. She can walk into the Night Court and simply get a girl like Mor out of there without any consequences. That is what power gets you. If Mor had power, she would not only be safe, but also able to help others.

But maybe Andromache truly doesn’t see it. She’s a queen, after all. She never was as powerless as Mor.

“I simply don’t understand this,” Andromache pushes when Mor remains silent. At least she doesn’t say ´I don’t understand you`. “I’ve never known you to care about power.”

Mor crosses her arms. Somehow, Andromache makes her feel like she’s done something wrong when she really hasn’t. “Maybe I just want to know what I’m capable of.”

Andromache swings her legs over the edge of the bed and gets up. “Then do that,” she says. “Just make sure you don’t end up finding more than you wanted to. Or playing directly into what your uncle wants.” She walks over to Mor and kisses her briefly before making for the exit. “I need to deal with a few problems,” she says. “Good luck with your researches.”

“Thanks,” Mor mutters, looking after her as she walks out of the tent.

She presses her lips together. They didn’t argue, not exactly, but she still feels like Andromache is somehow upset with her. Mor doesn’t want her to be upset, but at the same time, she doesn’t see what she was doing wrong. When Miryam was looking into her powers, no one told her not to. Why is it different for Mor?

Scowling, she looks down at the book. This certainly isn’t going to help her. She had considered asking Miryam for advice, but after Andromache’s reaction, she doesn’t feel confident in that strategy anymore. This leaves her to figure out how to handle her powers on her own.

No books and no help to be had. That means all that’s left is trial-and-error.

----

“What are you so annoyed about?” Yanis asks as they walk together through the camp.

“I’m not annoyed,” Andromache mutters, even though she technically is.

“Sure you are,” Yanis says. “I’m your best friend – you think I don’t notice?”

Andromache smiles and swats at his arm. Unfortunately, Yanis really does know her well enough that he’s impossible to lie to. They’ve been friends since their childhood, both children of advisors to the last queen, who later picked Andromache to be her successor. Yanis joined the royal guard, which means that now, a few years down the line, he is one of her guards.

“I had an…” Not an argument, not quite. “A disagreement with Mor.”

She doesn’t even know why she is this angry with Mor. Maybe it’s because she keeps thinking of how much Miryam struggles with her powers and can’t fathom the sheer stupidity of anyone wanting that for themselves.

Or maybe it’s because Mor’s entire approach to the situation is so distinctly Fae, wanting power for power’s sake, only to further their own standing. If she at least said that she was trying to get more powerful so that she could help them win this war, Andromache might have accepted it, but Mor just seemed to want power, and maybe Andromache is simply too human to understand that.

“Oh.” Yanis makes a face. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Andromache quietly shakes her head. She usually tells Yanis everything that’s going on in her life. He even knows about her relationship with Mor, by virtue of being the one who is currently pretending to be her lover to cover for them. But this is not her secret alone, and she doesn’t even know if Mor is comfortable with other people hearing about it.

“So, do you want to do anything to take your mind off the matter?” Yanis asks. “We could go sparring.”

“I’d love to, but I need to visit Jurian.”

Ever since Jurian stopped talking to Miryam, Andromache made a point to visit him at least once a week. Miryam makes sure his camp keeps running smoothly, and Andromache does her best to keep Jurian company. These days, she seems to be the only one whose company he can stomach. It isn’t always easy with him, but there’s no way Andromache is going to abandon him entirely. (And really, who of them can claim to be easy to be around these days?)

“I’ll winnow us,” Yanis says.

Yanis is exactly one eighth Fae. Physically, there’s no hint of his ancestors except for ears that are perhaps a bit more pointed than normal, and except for the ability to winnow, he has inherited none of their magical powers. The ability to winnow comes in very handy, though. Now, he winnows both of them to the outskirts of Jurian’s camp.

“I’ll go talk to Xeni,” he says when they arrive, naming one of Jurian’s higher-ranking captains.

“Meet you back here in an hour?” Andromache asks and waves at one of soldiers whom she knows briefly from another visit.

Yanis nods and they both set off. Jurian isn’t in his tent, which Andromache takes as a good sign. The days when Jurian is sitting alone in his tent, staring at his maps or drinking, are usually the worst. When he’s out in his camp and doing things, it generally means that he’s having a good day. (Occasionally, it also means that he’s having a terrible day and everyone else is about to as well.)

She finds Jurian sitting at a table with his soldiers, which is definitely a good sign. He looks tired, bloodshot eyes sunken deep into his face, but he’s talking. When he sees Andromache, he smiles, which is a rare sight these days, and waves her over. One of his soldiers quickly moves aside to make place for her on the bench.

“How’s it going?” Jurian asks. He even sounds somewhat cheerful.

Andromache smiles back. “Can’t complain.”

One of the soldiers passes her a mug of ale and Andromache takes it, thanking him. She isn’t overly fond of ale, but she still takes a sip, wincing at the bitter taste.

“And you?” Andromache asks. “Things look pleasantly calm here.”

“Oh, but they aren’t,” Jurian says. He sounds satisfied with himself. “We only got back here a few hours ago. We spent the past two days chasing after Amarantha’s army. We finally caught on to them earlier today and managed quite the ambush. Four hundred of her soldiers dead, can you imagine?”

“That’s great,” Andromache says, but her smile soon fades.

She does her best to remember the assignments for the individual armies, but she can’t quite drag up the memory. Miryam always knows the exact orders for each commander by heart, but Andromache has been less involved in the matter lately. Still, she is sure that Jurian’s army had gotten orders that don’t align with running after Amarantha. (As a matter of fact, Jurian’s orders rarely ever give him free reign to do as he pleases when it comes to Amarantha anymore. Andromache never asked, but she strongly suspects that Miryam is behind it.)

“Hold on,” she says slowly. Now, she does remember what orders Jurian had. “Weren’t you meant to keep watch on Vallahan’s army? To make sure they don’t move east.”

Jurian’s slight frown confirms her suspicions. “We’ve been keeping an eye out for them for days,” he says, shrugging. “They haven’t moved.”

Andromache stares at him for a moment. She is about to yell at him, to tell him what he was thinking, going against orders like that, but then, she remembers the soldiers sitting around them. Jurian is their commander and a councilmember, they hold the same rank – she can’t lecture him in front of his soldiers like he’s a wilful child.

“Of course,” Andromache says with a forced smile. “Congratulations on your victory, that’s great news.” She takes another sip of her ale. “And you’re right about Vallahan’s army, too. I’m sure you sent scouts out to check on them, we’d know by now if they had moved.”

Jurian nods hastily, but from the frantic look in his eyes, he hasn’t heard back from his scouts yet. Andromache tries hard to conceal her ire. She knows Jurian is struggling and that his revenge against Amarantha is all that keeps him going these days. Being angry with him for that always seemed unfair, but it is very hard not to when he keeps putting his private revenge before the war effort.

They sit together for another couple of minutes, chatting idly with the soldiers. Their conversation gets interrupted by a panting man who stops next to Jurian and whispers something into his ear. His eyes widen.

“What is it?” Andromache asks. Now, she can’t quite keep the edge out of her voice.

“Vallahan’s army has been spotted,” Jurian says. “They…” He clears his throat. “They slipped past our defences and are now moving east. Towards your camp.”

Andromache stares at him for a moment, then jumps to her feet. She doesn’t even bother to yell at Jurian who is still staring at her wide-eyed before she rushes out of the camp.

----

Mor stares out at the army stretching out before her, panting. There is blood splattered all over her golden armour, blood in her hair, on her hands. A sword cut through a slit in the armour on her arm, but she barely feels the sting of the wound. She takes a swig out of a waterskin. Only a moment of pause, then she will need to head back into the fray where Andromache is still fighting.

They are losing. Reinforcements won’t be here for another few hours, and by then, Mor isn’t sure how many of them will be left. They need a miracle. Or a very, very powerful magic-wielder, but none of the ones they have on their side turned up yet.

It was said that she could see the truth about anything in this world, that she could make the proudest Fae beg for mercy in the blink of an eye, and destroy entire armies. The power to destroy an army would come in handy now. If only Mor knew how.

Truth. How does one wield truth in battle?

One attempt, that’s all Mor will spare before she returns to the battle. She closes her eyes and tries to feel the power inside her. She already used it, at least fractions of it, but there must be more and now, Mor goes looking for the core.

She is just about to give up when she finally finds it. The power feels strangely cold and a shiver runs through Mor’s body. The power slips her grasp, though. It keeps slipping away from her, remaining just outside of her reach.

“Come on,” Mor hisses through clenched teeth.

This power is hers. Hers. It doesn’t get to refuse her, certainly not in a moment like this. There are people relying on her. She reaches out, stretches her mind to the point where it strains. A cold spreads from her fingers and all over her body. It feels like she is drenched in cold water. Her power feels like ice, cold and unforgiving. Is scares Mor as it shoots through her, but there is still an army for her to contend with.

Mor grips her power tightly. It is there, filling her entirely, but she doesn’t know what to do with it. She never learned to use it against anyone, has no idea how to weaponize a power that seems entirely harmless.

Out, she orders, attack them. Her power trembles inside her body for a moment longer. Then, miraculously, it goes shooting towards the enemy soldiers. Mor can feel it, rushing out of her and towards the enemy army. Then, her vision turns grey. A crack echoes through her mind. She feels herself falling, falling and falling. She should have hit the ground by now, but still, she falls. Then, the voice starts speaking.

Morrigan, it whispers. No, it isn’t one voice but several, speaking all at once. Morrigan, you call for truth and you will receive it.

Mor tries to struggle, to fight her way out of the darkness she is caught in, but her power keeps a tight grip on her. This is all wrong. It was meant to attack the enemy, not her.

But you so love to lie to yourself, the voices continue. You lie when you tell yourself that your cousin is different from your uncle. You lie when you tell yourself that this little family you made for yourself is so close that nothing could tear it apart.

“No,” Mor whispers. Her head is throbbing and her heart beats far too quickly. “No, stop.”

Before her eyes, images rise. She sees Rhys, standing in his army’s camp, whip in hand. A soldier is bound to the flock below him and Rhys’s face is frozen in clod rage as he swings the whip. He’ll be no better than his father, the voice whispers.

And Azriel… His face appears before her eyes, always impassive. Deep down, you know he won’t be willing to move on. And if he ever finds out the truth… You know how he’ll react. He wants you, will always want you. You’re the symbol for the acceptance he always wanted, and he’ll never accept that he can’t have you.

Azriel’s face vanishes from before her and she is standing in a room with Andromache. They are kissing, embracing each other, but they aren’t alone. Shadows lurk in the corner, shadows like the ones that report to Azriel. Her skin crawls like there are thousands of ants running over her body. She’s being watched, always watched.

When he finds out, the voices continue, your secret will come out. He’ll tell Azriel and Rhysand, and eventually, everyone will know.

She’s standing opposite Azriel in a room. He is yelling and even though she doesn’t hear the words, she knows what he is saying. There are people standing around them, watching. Keir is there. Eris. Her uncle.

“Stop,” Mor sobs, “Please!”

But it doesn’t stop. And you lie to yourself when you tell yourself that you and Andromache will be together forever. She won’t want to be with you forever, not when your opinions differ so much. Eventually, she will realize that you are no less privileged than the other Fae. That you may care for humans and all the things she values, but not nearly as deeply as she does. She will realize that deep down, you don’t understand, and she will leave.

“This isn’t what it’s like, I’m not like that!”

But you are, the voice says. You joined the war as a way to get out of the Night Court. You genuinely think that many of the humans have it easier than you do. You like to split your world into good and bad, and everyone who isn’t actively horrible is bad, everyone else is good.

“No!” Mor screams. She tears at her hair, struggles against her power’s invisible hold on her.

I am truth, the power whispers, You cannot escape me.

Mor screams without words. She wants this to stop, wants the voice to go away. She claws at her head, but something stops her hands.

And just like this, it is all gone. Mor’s power snaps back into her. It quivers in her for a moment, then dissolves into nothing. Pain flares through her head.

“Mor!” Someone is shaking her. “Morrigan, look at me.”

Mor blinks. Slowly, the world comes into focus around her. Andromache’s face appears before her, blurry at first, then more clearly.

“Hey,” Mor mutters. She tries to push herself upright, but Andromache gently presses her back into the grass.

“Stay still,” Miryam says. She is kneeling next to Mor, still dressed in her council clothes, a long silk dress with silver embroidery that seems far too thin for the brisk night air. She must have raced here straight from a meeting if she didn’t even bother to change clothes. The air around her seems to shimmer, alight with power. “Are you in pain?”

Mor wants to say yes, but then, she realizes that she actually isn’t. She has a headache, but beyond that, she can detect no physical pain. Her mind is reeling and her chest feels painfully tight, but that hardly counts.

“No,” she says. “I’m…” She chokes on the word fine.

Words keep echoing through her mind, far too loudly, drowning out any thoughts. Her chest feels far too tight, she can barely breathe. Over her, Miryam and Andromache exchange a worried look. The air around Miryam glows with power. Mor doesn’t understand why her power is out, what is going on around them. Are they still fighting?

“The battle…” She stammers.

“We won,” Andromache says. She gently pushes a strand of hair out of Mor’s face, but her face is tense.

“Did you lose control over your powers?” Miryam asks. She glances over her shoulder, then returns her attention to Mor.

She shakes her head. “No, I…” She breaks off. Her tongue feels strangely heavy. “I meant to do this.” She doesn’t even know what this is. But now, she finally understands why her power feels so strange. “It’s fine,” she says to Miryam. “You can give it back.”

“Are you sure?” Miryam asks. “Control can be difficult, especially when you are already exhausted.”

“It’s fine,” Mor repeats. She doesn’t know how to explain to Miryam that she has no trouble at all with controlling her power. She never had. Truth seems to be pleasant in that regard, if in no other.

Still, Miryam only releases her grip on Mor’s power slowly. Bit by bit, it slithers back into Mor’s body. Controlling it is easy enough, though.

“See?” She says once all of her power is back in her body. “All fine.” If that isn’t the biggest lie she ever told.

Neither Miryam nor Andromache seem convinced and when Mor tries to sit up again, Miryam grabs her arm.

“Rest,” she says in a tone Mor likes to call her healer voice. It’s somehow both gentle and firm. “No matter how much control you might have over your power, using that much of it is still a strain and you should give your body time.”

Hearing that from Miryam, who only considers resting when she passes out from pain, is somewhat ridiculous. But getting her to change her mind would require a discussion and now that her head is beginning to clear again, Mor realizes that even though the battle might be over, both Andromache and Miryam likely have duties to deal with.

“Okay,” Mor says. “I’ll just lie down. You two can go, I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” Andromache asks, but she’s already looking over her shoulder at the battlefield. She must have lost many soldiers today. Mor can already see the shadows on her face.

“Yes, just go.”

“I’ll bring her back to the camp and return to help you,” Miryam says.

Andromache nods and is off before Mor truly has time to process what is happening. Miryam looks over her shoulder.

“Don’t you dare get a stretcher,” Mor warns softly. “I can walk.”

Miryam sighs. “Alright.”

She holds out a hand to pull her to her feet. Mor sways a little and has to grip Miryam’s arm to stay upright, but otherwise, she manages just fine. Miryam pulls her arm around her shoulders and helps her walk back to the camp. In Mor’s tent, Miryam deposits her on the bed. Mor half-expected her to rush off back towards the battlefield immediately, but she sits down next to her.

“What happened out there?” Mor asks softly.

Miryam arches an eyebrow at her. “That’s what I was about to ask you.” When Mor remains silent, she says, “I only arrived at the very end. But Andromache says that the enemy soldiers suddenly fell to the ground, all at once. She thought they were dead at first, but then, some of them started screaming and clawing at their heads. Some allegedly died on the spot, although that may be a rumour. Andromache’s army had an easy game after that. Your power was all over the place, and you were on the ground as well. As soon as the enemy soldiers were taken care off, I turned your power off since you didn’t seem to be able to do it yourself.”

Mor nods. She doesn’t know if she could have pulled her own power back, how much control she had actually left. She doubts she would have been able to fight her way out of her own mind for long enough to call the power back, though.

“Do you know what you did?” Miryam asks softly.

“I showed them truth,” Mor says. Only now that she says it does she realize that’s exactly what she did. “The truths they hide from, the ones that scare them. The ones they hate.”

“And in return, you had to see your own truths,” Miryam says. Mor nods and Miryam walks over to put a hand on her arm. “That was a very brave thing to do,” she says. “Everyone has truths they’d rather not face; doing so anyways takes a lot of strength.”

Mor doesn’t feel brave or strong, though. She feels terrible. Like a pretender. I didn’t know this would happen, she thinks. If I had known, I’m not sure if I would have done what I did. And that isn’t bravery. It’s quite the opposite. She didn’t face anything. She just ran from it, and she can’t get herself to stop running.

“I need to go help Andromache,” Miryam says, rising. “But if you have any trouble with your powers, if you need help with anything, pleas tell me. We’ll figure something out.”

Mor nods and watches Miryam walk out of the tent. After that, she lies on her hard bed, staring up at the ceiling. She doesn’t know how much time passes. Her mind is empty, save for the voices that keep ringing in her ears. The pain she feels has nothing to do with physical wounds, but she feels it nonetheless. It’s nearly driving her insane.

Outside of the tent, the sun has already vanished behind the horizon when Mor gets up. She doesn’t know if she’s supposed to be running around, but she can’t take the confines of her tent anymore. She needs some fresh air. Carefully, she pushes the entrance to her tent open and slips out.

“Aren’t you on bedrest?” Yanis asks. Apparently, he’s been waiting outside of her tent.

“Consider me well-rested,” Mor says. “I’m going for a walk.”

Yanis doesn’t stop her as she walks past him and into the camp. All around her, soldiers stop their work to stare at her, whisper with each other. The Morrigan, they call her, voices hushed in awe. It seems the entire camp already knows about what she did.

Mor doesn’t want any of it. Her head is still pounding, the words she heard while she used her power echo through her mind. She can’t shake that voice. Is it now permanently etched into her mind? Will she be forced to hear those words over and over again for eternity?

She can’t stand the whispers. The noise of the camp hurts her ears, the lights of the pyres burn in her eyes. The only person whose company she cares for right now is Andromache, but she is a queen whose first duty will always be to her people, and she cannot abandon them in the aftermath of battle. Besides, she might not be all that interested in Mor either way. Just like the other Fae, a voice whispers in her mind. And so Mor is alone when she sneaks out of the camp, away from the eyes and the whispers, and sits down on a small stone.

“Hey,” Andromache says softly and sits down next to Mor.

She never knew truth could be so cruel. It’s the cruellest gift of all.

Mor gives her a tired smile. “Let me guess,” she says, “Yanis told you where I went.” When Andromache simply gives her an apologetic smile, she shakes her head. “You don’t need to worry about me,” she says, “I know you have duties to fulfil with your army.”

“Miryam is filling in for me, so I’ve got time,” Andromache says. “How are you feeling?”

“It didn’t hurt me,” Mor says. Which is not entirely true, but physically, she is fine.

Andromache puts an arm around her shoulders and pulls her close. “When I saw you lying on the ground there, I thought you might die,” she whispers. “I was so scared.”

Mor buries her face in Andromache’s shoulder. For all the horror she experienced today, it’s good that there was at least one person who genuinely cared about what happened to her. It is prove that she isn’t entirely alone. Maybe she can talk to Andromache about what she saw.

“It’s truth,” she says, “My power. And it’s…” She shakes her head. “It showed me things, told me things…” Her fingers tremble. The words repeat over and over in her head, but she can’t bring herself to say them out loud. “It was terrible.

How stupid was she to ever want this? If she thinks about how she spent her day pouring over a book, desperately trying to unlock her powers. What she would have given to be able to turn back time now. She should have listened to Andromache.

“You don’t have to use it,” Andromache says softly. “If you have been able to keep it locked away until now, you won’t ever need to use it again. No one would blame you.”

In a way, this is absolution. They are still at war and Mor’s gift might prove to be invaluable. But what Andromache offers is a free pass for not using it. She won’t be a coward. No one will be able to blame her. It will be fine.

“I won’t ever use it again,” she whispers. “Not in a million years.”

----

Miryam draws a few odd looks as she walks through Drakon’s camp. Her clothes are splattered in blood and mud, she only barely managed to get the dirt off her face and hands. She spent the past few hours alternating between organizing the post-battle work and helping the healers out.

Well over three hundred soldiers dead. The enemy lost their entire army, but their own losses are still high, the highest out of any battle this month. Miryam gives it an hour at most until the council starts demanding answers. Two hours until they find out what happened. Then, they’ll surely summon Miryam, demand an explanation for what Jurian did. As if she knows.

She stops one of Drakon’s soldiers, a woman she knows briefly from past visits. “Where’s Drakon?” She asks.

“I believe his Highness is in his tent, my Lady,” the soldier replies and hurries on.

Miryam sets off towards Drakon’s tent. She expects him to be stuck in some kind of meeting, but he is alone when Miryam enters, sitting at his desk. He’s drumming a quick rhythm on his leg and flinches when Miryam enters. She immediately knows that something is wrong and wants to ask, but Drakon beats her to it.

“What happened?” He asks, looking at her ruined clothes.

Miryam gives the briefest possible explanation. “Jurian went against orders to chase after Amarantha, which means that a few thousand Vallahan soldiers slipped past our defences. Andromache’s army lost a several hundred soldiers and the only reason it wasn’t more is that Mor used some very strange truth magic I’d never seen before to disable most of their soldiers.”

Drakon seems startled. “Is she okay?” He asks.

Miryam shrugs. “Physically, yes,” she says. Mentally, Miryam isn’t so sure. Mor wasn’t in pain, didn’t seem hurt, but Miryam has never seen her this distraught.

Miryam is far from an expert on Higher Arts – she only barely managed not to let hers kill her – but she knows that they are generally weird. Difficult to master and near-impossible to understand. In her private interpretation, they also tend to come with a price to match the gift, although she is sure most Fae would disagree.

“And you?” Miryam asks. Drakon still seems far too tense. “Is everything alright?”

Drakon shakes his head, shrugging lightly at the same time. He’s still drumming around on his leg, tapping his foot on top of it. Miryam walks over to him and puts an arm around his shoulders.

“What is it?” She asks softly.

Drakon picks up a letter from the table and passes it to Miryam, fingers shaking slightly. Thick paper, a seal pressed into red wax. A sun with a crown hovering over it. Ravenia’s seal.

----

Thanks @croissantcitysucks for helping with this chapter! And in general for being the best person to talk to about writing ❤

[katehuntington]

Title: All I Want - part three Fandom: Supernatural Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester (Bobby Singer, Castiel Mary Winchester and many more mentioned) Pairing: Dean x Reader Series summary: Sam and Dean come across an object that could be the solution to Michael. The Pearl of Baozhu grants the beholder’s deepest desire. Once Dean focuses on his wish, the archangel remains caged in his mind however. Instead his former girlfriend Y/N shows up, who was killed in 2010 in Detroit, by no other than Lucifer himself. Summary part three: Still in shock after Y/N’s unexpected return, the Winchesters fill her in on what has happened in the past ten years. Learning about all the ones they have lost, is a little too much for her to take in. Warnings part three: NSFW, 18+ only. Spoilers season 14 episode 13. Angst, fluff. Swearing, alcoholism. Descriptions of flashbacks and memories. Mentions of character death, time in Hell, torture and nightmares. Anxiety, grieving over lost loved one. Confusion that comes with time travel. Word Count: 5377 words Author’s note: Part three of a multi part miniseries, based on the 300th episode “Lebanon”. Beta’d by the lovely @kittenofdoomage​, @winchest09​, @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish​, and @thinkwritexpress-official​​. Thank you all so much for your feedback!

All I Want Masterlist

     “So, long story short,” Y/N summarizes, “Sam jumped into the pit with Lucifer riding piggyback, Cas pulled him out but forgot his soul. There was a civil war in Heaven. Cas declared himself God and released the Leviathan and when those ugly suckers were defeated, our angel buddy and you--” she nods at Dean, “- got sucked into Purgatory, which is a place that actually exists, apparently.”

     They are in the kitchen, seated at the four-person table. The hunters raided the liquor cabinet, all in need of a drink after the rather unexpected and staggering turn of events.      Y/N takes a shot of whiskey and puts the tumbler down on the varnished wood with a bang, shoving it across and motioning the older Winchester for a refill.

     “Meanwhile, Sam hit a dog and you escaped Purgatory, but Cas didn’t. Then there was this whole deal with the tablets and the trials, which almost killed your brother. You let an angel - who actually turned out to be a different angel - possess Sam in order to save him. There’s a second civil war upstairs…” She knocks back her head, downing the glass in one go. “I mean, what is it with those halo idiots? Haven’t they learned anything from watching humanity slaughter each other for centuries?”      “Y/N, I know this is a lot, but you need to slow down a bit,” Dean advises, but she snatches the bottle from his hand and pours herself another.      “I’m nowhere near done. Where was I?” She looks up at the ceiling of the kitchen for a second while thinking, until it comes to her. “Oh, right! The angels fell, you took on the Mark of Cain, beat that Knight of Hell chick Abaddon, then got yourself killed. Again. But, oh wait, it gets better! You woke up a demon and had a fun summer with Crowley.”      Her voice pitches a little higher, a hint of panic audible now. Dean watches her process the information which is so clearly overwhelming her and eyes Sam, who is fixing her something quick to eat behind the kitchen counter. Their gazes lock on each other, both men wondering in silence if telling her the whole truth was a good idea.

     “Sam cured you, but you still carried the Mark. You killed Death.” She laughs, cynically. “I mean, c’mon! Death! It’s ironic to say the least. Anyway, the Darkness was released, which - I kid you not - is God’s sister. Oh, and God? Turns out that horrible tween girl novel writer Chuck is actually the almighty creator! Ha!”      “Why don’t you eat something? You’re probably hungry,” Sam suggests, putting down a plate in front of her.      But Y/N isn’t interested in the sandwich and instead picks up her crystal glass again, having another royal amount of the brown liquor. Holding the tumbler to her lips while letting the whiskey linger in her mouth, she points her index finger at the younger Winchester now, who sits down opposite of the woman from their past.

     “Your mom is back from the dead, the British Men of Letters turned out to be stuck up dicks. Lucifer was sprung from the cage, became President of the United States, and knocked up an intern. He had a son, his name is Jack. How am I doing so far?” she rants, setting down the empty glass in front of her.      Dean looks at her, a worried frown drawing lines on his forehead. He knows her well enough to sense she needs to blow off steam. Interrupting her might not be his best move, but that doesn’t stop him from growing concerned about her current state of mind.

     “There was a rift between our world and this - this Apocalypse world, you called it? And Mary and Lucifer ended up on the wrong side before it closed. Luci killed Cas, Dean was sad, Cas came back. You guys went on a rescue mission, Sam got killed. Again!” She sighs deeply, burying her face in her crossed arms on the table. “Seriously, the amount of times you two have died is giving me a fucking headache.”      “Yeah, sorry about that,” Sam says, shooting her a sheepish smile before she continues.

     “So Apocalypse!Michael possessed you in order to kill the Devil once and for all.” She looks up again, focusing on Dean. “But he didn’t check out like he promised - shocker, by the way. He wreaked havoc here, then out of the blue let you go. And now you guys live here in this Men of Letters bunker with a Nephilim, an angel and your undead mother.”      “That’s about right,” Dean confirms.      Y/N lets a breath slip from her lips and stares past him absently, the gears in her head still on overdrive.      “I need another drink,” she eventually mutters, not even bothering filling up her tumbler, but taking a swig directly from the bottle.      When she sets it back on the table top and lets her fingers slip from the glass, Sam is quick to get up and take the bottle back to the kitchen, putting it away in one of the cabinets; she has had enough for one day.      “And I died…”

     The younger Winchester turns around and leans over the counter while observing his friend, his knuckles white on the surface. He studies the breadcrumbs that litter the stainless steel surface after he cut her sandwich in two, having difficulty addressing that topic. When Lucifer flung her into that wall with such magnitude that it killed her instantly, Dean lost the woman he loved, but Sam lost his best friend. He didn’t realize how he felt about her demise until after he got his soul back, which somehow made it even worse. Like he didn’t do her justice, didn’t mourn like he should have. He doesn’t have to reply to her words, though, because Dean beats him to it.      “On May 10, 2010,” he states, averting his gaze and focusing on his folded hands in front of him, still wrapped around his own whiskey glass.      The date is forever etched in his memory. Her mirage haunts him on a regular basis, but on the 10th of May she’s all he can think about, like a fog that refuses to lift at daybreak. It’s one of the hardest days to get through, the day that he misses her the most. Dean’s jaw flexes and he tries to swallow down the pressure that’s gradually building in his chest.

     “That’s - that’s in a year and a half,” Y/N stammers, after quick calculation. “At least in whatever time I’m from.”      “Yeah, just before the big title fight between the Archangels,” Sam confirms.      Y/N glances up at him, then back at Dean, who still can’t force himself to look at her.      “Who killed me?”      “Lucifer,” Dean recalls, venom in his voice.      Her brow lifts up at the reveal. She was killed by the Devil himself? Well, at least that would make a cool inscription on her tombstone.      “You guys salted and burned me, right?” she double checks, even though she cannot imagine the Winchesters giving her anything but a hunter’s farewell.      Dean pulls at his lip with his teeth, the memory of the burning pyre flashing before his eyes. He remembers it as if it was yesterday. The funeral that made sure her death would be irreversible, permanent. The sight of her body set alight. In order to stop the Apocalypse from happening, he lost his brother and his girl. Sam was suffering endless and horrific torture in the pits of Hell while she was going up in flames before his eyes. God, he was a mess. His brother came home, but looking back now, deep down Dean knows he never really recovered from losing the woman who will forever have his heart.      “I did,” he confirms.      I did, he said. All of a sudden, Y/N realizes Sam was gone too at this point; Dean didn’t even have his brother to lean on. Pitiful she watches the hunter, who has endured so much already. He lost the two most important people in his life in a day’s time.      “Then… how am I back?” she wonders. “You said something about summoning me?”      “We found a magical artifact called the Pearl of Baozhu. It grants your biggest wish, basically,” Sam begins to explain. “Apparently, it’s so powerful it doesn’t need remains to resurrect someone.”      “And I am your biggest wish?” She chuckles. “What? Not winning the lottery? Peace on Earth?”      A small smirk pulls at the corner of Dean’s mouth; oh, he missed her wit.      “No, it’s you,” he states after a moment of quiet, finally meeting her gaze.

     Astonishment silences her as she stares at him, the pain of having to go through life without her still evident in his eyes. He looks so much wearier than she remembers the tough hunter, the soldier who always marched on and kept grinding. Even after he came back from Hell, the experience that tore open wounds which bled even worse than those inflicted the night the hellhounds took him. Honestly, there were plenty of times she thought he would never recover, whenever he woke up screaming from another nightmare and she had to hold him until he calmed. And yet, he didn’t seem as burdened as he does now, and that is saying something. It’s as if time broke him down bit by bit as he grew older, until there was nothing left but a ruin. 

     Dean said it’s 2019, which means he’s forty years old now. His frown lines lay deeper, so do the crow’s feet by the corner of his eyes. There’s a scar on his chin that wasn’t there before, covered by his stubble. His hair is a little longer, but only by a quarter of an inch. Age has not done a number on him, because he’s still handsome, but trauma and loss surely have. Knowing that her own death had a substantial part in the neverending sorrow and guilt she knows the hunter carries breaks her heart, because if anything, she would never want to cause him such agony.

     “We were together,” she says, ending the silence. 

     It’s more a realization than it is a question, but Dean nods either way. Her jaw lowers slightly, her mouth opening, but she has no idea what to say. She was frightened when she heard she was on a collision course with death. But now she’s made aware that her future self and Dean are going to face evil as one hell of a power couple, that fear diminishes. She was a teenager when she first started developing feelings for the oldest Winchester brother. She never acted on it, the hunter’s life always getting in the way of their romance. But somehow, despite destiny, despite the horror show that is their reality, they found their way to each other. 

     Seeing just how much her departure wrecked him, she reaches out, moving her hand across the table to take his. She squeezes softly, running her thumb over his skin, rough from the many fights he’s faced. He visibly relaxes, cherishing the moment he never thought he’d have again.      Y/N forces herself to avert her eyes, aware they aren’t alone. She glances at Sam, who watches the two, smiling, but his content expression dissolves when she inadvertently turns the conversation in a harrowing direction.      “What about the others? How’s Bobby?” she wonders, oblivious to the painful reply that is to come.

     Dean’s face falls, closing his eyes in apprehension. Shit, he wishes he didn’t have to break the bad news to her. Bobby Singer was like a father to all of them, but Y/N spent the majority of her childhood under his wing. After her parents died, he took her in and raised her as his own, made sure she could go to school, that she could be a kid. Hell, he was her father, maybe not genetically, but he was the wise man who taught them that family doesn’t end in blood.

     Sam stares back at her, then swallows thickly, letting his head hang. Analyzing his stance, the smile on her lips dies down, frantically searching for an indication that says it isn’t so. When the tall hunter is unable to return her gaze, she fixates on Dean, tears already glazing over her eyes.      “Y/N...” He takes her hand in his now, trying to sooth her and cushion the blow, but he knows there’s nothing he can do that would take the pain away that is about to hit her like a freight train.      “No...” She shakes her head, unable to accept it. “No no no no...”      “I’m so sorry,” he says softly, his heart breaking as he breaks hers. 

     Her bottom lip begins to tremble, her face contorting as she fights the emotions that quickly overpower her. Shimmering pathways of anguish find their way down her cheeks, eventually falling to land on the wooden surface. Y/N wipes her cheeks dry, but it’s no use, new tears forming faster than she can erase. And so she brings her free hand up to cover her mouth, holding back a sob.      “W-when?” she stammers, her voice shaking. “How?”      “In 2012. He... he was shot,” Dean explains, trying to get the words across as gingerly as possible.

     She shuts her eyes now, her throat closing up and she bites her bottom lip, trying her hardest not to break down in front of the boys. She has so many questions of which the answers terrify her.      “Did he die alone?”      She barely dares to look up again, meeting Sam’s gaze this time. He shakes his head, offering her a comforting smile.      “No, we were right there with him,” he assures.      “He’s in Heaven,” Dean consoles, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the back of her hand. “Cas double checked.”

     Y/N nods slightly, sniffling as she digests the news. Knowing that he’s in a good place right now doesn’t stop the grief from tearing her apart, because she has no idea how to go through life without her mentor to council her, but at least he’s not suffering anymore. A shuddering breath escapes from her lungs as she collects herself.      “What killed him, is it--”      “- dead. Yeah, we made sure of that,” Dean guarantees.      “Good,” she says, her voice having gained some strength. “What about Rufus? Ellen & Jo?”      Sam sighs and looks down, painfully confronted with how many people they’ve lost over the years.      “They’re all gone,” he states, still leaning heavily on the countertop.      Shocked, Y/N stares at him, unable to believe how many have perished.      “So, of the original crew, you two are really the last ones standing, huh?”      “Yeah, I guess we are,” the younger brother confirms. “But we met some great people along the way, I’m sure they’ll be excited to meet you. We’re not fighting the good fight alone, by any means.”      “Glad to hear that. Just, not today? I’m not sure how much more I can take,” she almost pleads, her voice raspy from crying.

     Dean watches her closely, guilt constricting in his gut. Unknowingly, he has pulled her from a time where things weren’t all that bad. If she’s from October 2008, he has just returned from Hell. Bobby was alive, Sam was okay, so were the other people she considered family. They were growing closer, on the verge of giving in to the attraction they felt for each other. But now it’s just the three of them and a ten year gap between her lifetime and theirs. She must be feeling completely out of place, disorientated, exhausted.      “Why don’t we go pick out a room for you, so you can lay down for a bit?” Dean offers, squeezing her hand gently to get her attention.      She agrees and gets up from her seat without another word, mentally too tired to argue. The alcohol is coursing through her system, and although she doesn’t feel highly intoxicated, combined with the range of emotions she just went through, it’s doing a number on her. Honestly, she’s down for a nap, preferably one that lasts a day or two.      Dean lets her go up the two steps first, ready to catch her might her coordination fail her after all. He glances over his shoulder at his brother, who picks up the untouched sandwich and carries the plate to the sink.      “Go ahead, I’ll clean up,” Sam offers.      Thankful, the older Winchester forces a small smile before he leaves the kitchen. 

     Quietly, Y/N follows the broad shouldered hunter who leads the way, her arms crossed in front of her chest, the coolness from the stone walls chasing chills up and down her spine. It’s not just the cold, though, it’s everything. Too much information to process, too much heartbreak to endure. Her brain is overloaded, fatigue hitting her like a ton of bricks.      She watches Dean turn the corner and stroll into a long hallway with doors on either side, gold plated numbers below the Men Of Letters emblem. They stop in front of room 12.      “You can take this one,” he suggests, opening the door for her and flicking on the lights. “I’m right next door if you need anything. Sam’s in room 21.”

     Y/N steps inside, taking in her new accommodation. Despite the use of mostly brick and concrete and the lack of windows, the glow coming from the ceiling light and the lamp on the nightstand feels warm and welcoming. A large mahogany bed is situated against the far end, a matching desk on the left with an old typewriter and a radio sitting on top. Directly behind the door there’s a sink and a medicine cabinet with a mirror on the lid, and a wardrobe next to it.      “We can put a rug on the floor, if you want. I remember how you always had cold feet,” Dean suggests.      She turns in the middle of the room, a small smile on her lips; he’s not wrong.      “I’d like that,” she says, grateful.

     A little uneasy she lets her gaze linger over the still empty cabinets and bookshelves again, feeling foreign in this future that didn’t include her, before Dean wished she was. She realizes there’s nothing to fill them with, no clothes, no books, no picture frames.      “Could I maybe borrow a shirt and some sweats from you? I’m gonna have to buy some new clothes later today,” she asks, a little flustered.      “Sure, but actually, uh…” He rubs the back of his neck, the way he always does when he’s nervous. “I never threw away your stuff. It’s been in boxes in the storage room, so your clothes are probably gonna need to be washed--”      “- Wait, you… you saved my stuff?”

     She stares at him in awe. It’s been almost ten years since she died, and he still held on to all that she owned. Sure, it wasn’t much, since they were on the road most of the time, but still. They didn’t find this bunker until a couple of years later, which means Dean had stored it in a locker somewhere, or maybe at Bobby’s, and picked it up again when they found a permanent home. He had moved her things around for almost a decade, yet never threw them out, even though he knew there was no purpose left for the items that once belonged to her. Just painful reminders of what was and what was lost.      “Yeah, I - I couldn’t really bring myself to throw it out,” he claims, as if he was dodging a task that should have been done long ago.      He isn’t lying. Even though he knew she was never going to return to him, that her life was lost and his love was hopeless, he kept everything she held dear. Her books, her mixtapes, her photos, her jewelry. The clothes she wore, the guitar she played. The stack of coasters she collected, picking one up at every bar they ever had a drink at, from every town they ever crossed. The old school Polaroid camera she brought everywhere, snapping pictures of everything that caught her eye along the way. Sunsets, funny road signs, captivating landscapes, interesting people. There are a few of him, of the Winchesters together, some more portraying the three of them, all squeezed into the shot. She even caught Bobby on camera, ignoring his grumpy mutters when she had fulfilled her seemingly impossible mission.      There’s the music box she got from her mother when she was little, her parents’ wedding album. Lore books, weapons and crystals that Bobby gave her when she first started hunting. The enchanted good luck charm Dean gave her for her birthday. He held on to it all, because he couldn’t bear the thought of having to let her go completely.

     Sympathetically, Y/N observes him. His tough exterior only lets a hint of embarrassment over something so sentimental seep through. But she knows him, she has seen the knight without his armor. She knows how badly he’s hurting.      “Anyway, I’ll - uh, get you some clean clothes and dig up your stuff from storage.” He points his thumb over his shoulder a little awkwardly, excusing himself.      She nods. “Thanks.”

     With a faint smile on his lips he disappears, leaving the door ajar. Y/N breathes in deeply and allows the air to flow out, trying to calm herself down. It’s her first moment alone since she found herself in the year of 2019 and she cannot begin to comprehend what is happening to her. How she time-jumped a decade into the future, having history with Dean she cannot even recall. It feels like she’s in a bad daytime television show, where one of the characters has hit her head too hard and suffers from amnesia, not remembering her lover.      Rubbing her forehead she turns around, trying to massage away the headache. Her eyes glide through her new bedroom again. This is going to be her home now. After moving out of Bobby’s place, she never really had that kind of stability. The closest she came to a roof over her head was her minivan, her little house on wheels. 

     Fingertips grace the covers of her bed, the material soft under her touch, when she hears Dean’s boots echo in the hall. She turns around as he comes through the doorway, holding two boxes with a bundle of clothes laying on top of the stack in his arms. He lowers the neatly taped carton containers to the ground, her name written on them with black marker. Dean made sure to file on the label what’s inside them.      “There’s one more box, your clothes are in that one. I can put them in the washer now, so you’ll have something better to wear than my oversized stuff,” he offers.      “You don’t have to do that, Dean,” she objects, but he shrugs it off.      “It’s no problem.”      His voice is kind, but he’s not taking ‘no’ for an answer. It’s the first time he has moved her belongings without having to fight the tears, without having to pause in order to stop himself from breaking down. He wants to make sure she has something clean and fresh to wear when she wakes up later, finally being able to take care of her again. 

     Dean turns the corner and heads to the storage room, his heart finally calming with the simplicity of being able to do something as domestic as washing her clothes. After picking up the last big box, he exits the storage and pulls the door shut behind him, making his way to the dorm where the washers and dryers are situated. He sets the box down in front of one of the machines, pulls his pocket knife from his belt and cuts through the duct tape. The first item he pulls out, however, steals his breath; it’s the leather jacket she wore that night in Detroit.      Two days after they lost her, Dean wrapped her in linen before he laid her down on the pyre he and Bobby built, her lifeless body still in the jeans and band shirt she had on when she was killed. He took off her favorite black leather jacket, though, wanting to preserve it, even though it was a part of Y/N - or maybe because it was. Traces of faded crimson still stain the collar. Dean shakes his head, trying to ban the image from his mind. The image of the blood running from her nose and mouth as she hung from his arms, dead weight, the spark of life in her eyes long gone.

     After a deep breath, the hunter collects himself and lays the leather jacket aside, then begins to carefully pick out some of her clothes. He makes a selection that fits in the drum, adds a laundry pod and turns the machine on. He hopes the old thing does a better job at washing away the memory of her death than he’s doing.

     When he enters Y/N’s room again, she has changed into the black shirt and grey sweatpants he offered her. She spins when she hears him, an amused grin adorning her face.      “Nice socks,” she chuckles, showing off her novelty footwear with burgers and milkshakes on them.      “Shut up. Sammy gave them to me for Christmas,” he utters, a blush on his cheeks. “Your stuff’s in the washer.”      “Thank you,” she returns, grateful.

     A silence followers as Dean lingers in the doorway. This would be the moment to give her some space and retreat to his room, but somehow he can’t make himself step outside. He has spent too much time without her by his side already, he doesn’t want to waste a second not being with the woman he’s still unmistakingly in love with. She’s his girl, afterall. But that’s where it gets confusing, because he’s not sure how she feels about all this. Y/N was zapped from a time where they weren’t in a relationship yet, so where do they stand in this messed up mayhem?      “Y/N, about that kiss earlier…” he starts off hesitant. “I, uh - I didn’t know you were from a place where we weren’t… y’know, together.”

     The smile on her lips dies down as she watches the hunter, skilled in the field when fighting evil, but now stumbling over his own words. It’s only now that she realizes how surreal this must be for him. His mind probably has archives full of memories she has no clue of, simply because in her time, they didn’t happen yet.      “What I’m trying to say is…” Dean takes a breath, trying to get his message across. “If I came on too strong, or made you feel uncomfortable in any way, I’m sorry.”      He glances up now, watching how she slowly approaches. Gently, she takes his hand in hers, their fingers entwining. After studying their hold for a few seconds, she tilts her head and restores eye contact. The look she gives him is so warm and kind, it mends the broken man that he is.      “I’m not,” she responds, her voice soft.

     She leans in, tiptoeing, and presses her soft lips against his. For a good moment all his grief, the endless regret, the physical pain that became chronic, is forgotten. He closes his eyes and melts into the touch, returning the kiss without hesitation. The voices in his head are silenced, his anxiety calmed. After eight years, eight months and twenty eight days, he has found his missing piece. If her departure from his world didn’t make him realize how much he loves her, this moment surely does.

     The kiss lasts a few heavenly long seconds, but then Dean parts from her, resting his forehead against hers. He sighs deeply, the air leaving him with a shudder. Still high on the ecstasy that the undeniable connection induced, she opens her eyes, but his remain closed. Wondering why, Y/N squeezes his hand. When he does look back at her, the tears bring out his green irises, like holding an emerald gem against the light. Compassionate, she cups his face, tracing the lines of his jaw.      “You really missed me, didn’t you?” she perceives.      He huffs; she’s putting it mildly.      “You have no idea,” he breathes.

     Y/N does, though. Last thing she remembers is how Dean just returned from Hell. In the four months that he was gone, she was completely at a loss. Wildflowers blossomed on his grave from her tears alone. Knowing he was enduring unimaginable torment only made it worse. But when he returned and she was able to close him in her arms again, it magnified everything she had ever felt for the man who went to Hell and back. The rollercoaster he’s riding now is one she’s been on herself, but she doesn’t tell him that; it’s not about her right now.

     She kisses him again, shorter and more sweetly now, smiling at him afterwards until he returns her expression. His eyes are still shimmering, but it’s not sorrow she finds in the depth of his pupils, not anymore. It’s gratefulness, appreciation, love, for her, the girl he lost so many years ago.      “You should get some sleep. You had one hell of a morning,” he says after a quiet moment, unable to look away.      She scoffs. “Understatement of the week.”      He nods grinning, admitting she’s probably right.      “I’ll leave you to it.”      Dean is about to let go of her hand, when her grip on him grows a little stronger, causing him to glance up at her, questioning.      “Could you…” she pauses, not sure if she’s asking too much. “Could you lay with me, just for a while?”      He reads her carefully, pained to see the hint of fear; she doesn’t want to be alone.      “Sure,” he agrees, the single word soothing her.

     Y/N allows his hand to slip from hers now and circles the bed, folding back the covers as Dean sits down to take off his shoes. When he leans back into the pillow, his upper body still slightly elevated against the headboard, tiredness overwhelms him. He hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in forever, Michael always waiting in the shadows when he dares to close his eyes. But when Y/N crawls into his chest, filling the vacant place that has been cold for so long, he sighs content, letting the worry fall from his shoulders. Who knows, maybe with her by his side, he might actually be able to rest.

     She pulls the sheets to cover the both of them, feeling Dean’s sheltering arm wrap around her and pull her in. The kiss he presses to her hair has her bite back the tears yet again. She tries to hide it, not wanting to come across as weak or emotional. The man who has always cared for her, doesn’t fail to notice, though.      “Hey…” he says, softly. “You had a lot on your plate today, huh?”      She sniffles and nods, not brave enough to test her voice.      “It’s gonna be okay, we’ll figure this out,” he promises. “You got me, Y/N.”      “Yeah…” she whispers. “I got you.”

     Dean holds her close, giving her the security and the comfort she is desperately seeking, hoping she might forget about the world she’s in now and the one she was ripped from. Absently, he rubs his fingers up and down her arm, the slow, soothing rhythm lulling her to sleep. Within minutes she’s out, the warmth she radiates slowly melting away the tension in the hunter’s stiff muscles, tired and worn from endless battles with both monsters and himself. Exhausted, he lets his cheek rest against the top of her head, allowing his own eyes to flutter shut as well. The last thing that crosses his mind before he falls asleep is a promise. Past, present, or future, Dean will always be there for the woman who makes him believe in their little slice of apple pie life. A decade of time difference will not change his word of honor.

It took me long enough, didn’t it! Stay tuned for part four, I hope I have gained some momentum now and will able to finish this series sooner than later.

Anyway, thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

All I Want tags: @alexwinchester23​ @avengersgirllorianna​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​ @cpag7​ @deans-baby-momma​ @greenarrowhead​ @justkending​ @polina-93​  @the-is13​

Follow Forever tags: @1000roughdrafts​ @adoptdontshoppets​ @afangirlsbubble​ @akshi8278​ @angelsandwinchesters​ @atc74​ @bandobsession98​ @becs-bunker​ @caligraphee​ @canadianspnhunter​ @chumi-la-chula​ @coffee-obsessed-writer​ @deanwanddamons​ @cookie-dough-lova​ @dawnie1988​ @dolanfivsosxox​ @demonsofhunting​ @dillpicklesunflowerseed​ @emoryhemsworth​ @fangirlxwritesx67​ @fangirl-and-medstudent-help​ @flamencodiva​ @foreverwayward​ @heartsaved​ @hennessy0274-blog​ @hobby27​ @hyperella​ @idksupernatural​ @idreamofhazel​ @indecisive20something​ @itmighthavebeenintentional​ @ivonstiel​ @just-another-busy-fangirl​ @kathaswings​ @like-a-bag-of-potatoes​ @maddiepants​ @mariekoukie6661​ @mogaruke​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @myheartbeatsjustforyou​ @notnaturalanahi​ @pisces-cutie​ @rainqueen​ @risingphoenix761​ @sammyssupersmile​ @sheepdogs33456​ @soupornatural​ @spnbaby-67​ @spnimag​ @sunskittlex​ @supernatural-girl97​ @super-not-naturall​ @team-free-will-you-idjiot​ @theyaremyveryownthoughts​ @thoughtslikeaminefield​ @tmiships4life​ @tranquility-or-chaos​ @trashforwinchesters​ @ultimatecin73​ @unlikelygalaxygiver​ @uzum4k1-uch1h4​ @vxxn128 @winchesterxtwo​

[tare-chan]

Iduna, Elsa, Anna, and the 4 spirits

After several days of contemplating the story line of Frozen 2, I think I finally get the whole story. Well… this is still categorize as theory though, but as always, I will share my thoughts here.

I think Iduna and Gale’s roles are very important as the base story for Frozen 2

And I’m amazed how the animators managed to portrayed the spirits as ‘human’ as possible, with their distinctive recognizable traits. 

Spoiler… spoiler….

Iduna, as a Northruldan, seems have a very close relationship with Gale, the wind spirits. (Gale seems like the kinder, easy going and friendlier spirits, who also very agile, and loves to play). We can see how they played around in the past sequences. Gale even help Iduna saves a boy, who actually was the “enemy”, and pushed them to safety, out of the forest border (I think the ‘ah-ah-ah’ calling voice is how Iduna ‘talks’ to Gale). I believe, even tough Gale was also trapped inside the forest, being “a” wind, he (I assume the spirits are all a “he” for my convenient writing purposes, btw) able to check on Iduna from time to time. Thus he can sense that Iduna has 2 daughters, one of whom, possessed the special “keys”, to lift the curse, as a gift for the good Iduna has done in the past. Gale didn’t exactly know which of the two daughters has the power tough.

Now the movie itself didn’t show how Iduna and Agnarr met, but from the trailer, we did see that Gale seems also playing with Agnarr. I presume, from that brief interaction, Iduna could tell that Agnarr was different from his Father (more on the curious side, rather than on the fear side, when interact with magic), and Gale agreed with her. Now, for the sake of drama, what if Iduna was the daughter of the Northuldran leader that was killed by Agnarr’s father? This will emphasize Iduna’s good deed even more, IMO. I wished the movie would showed us a little more of Iduna and Agnarr encounter. Anyway, from those tiny tidbits we get from the movie, I could assume that Agnarr didn’t remember who his saviour was. And Iduna choose to keep silent and prefer to build their relationship the ‘slow burn’ way. And of course (for the sake of the story) at the end, Agnarr choose Iduna to be his queen. 

That until the first Frozen incident, that make Elsa need to be isolated. As the mother, Iduna have always known that Elsa is special. And obviously it really pained her to see her eldest daughter “suffer” because of her power, instead of embracing it. But even though she’s a Northuldran, it didn’t make her understand what the spirit’s good deed right away. I even think that Iduna actually forgot and never thought of it. Until the night her husband decide to tell a story about an Enchanted Forest, and she was asked to sing an old lullaby, that the “eureka” come to her mind, The brief scene of memories at Athohallan, where Iduna finally want to confess something to Agnarr, which he reply with ‘I’m listening’, make me believe that it was Iduna’s idea for them to travel North, to find Athohallan, in order to understand Elsa’s power and what purpose it held, so that Elsa will not suffer anymore. Because I believe, deep down in her heart, Iduna knows that whatever power Elsa has, is for great and good purpose. And of course, as every mother in this world, she only want the best for the daughter, and if to understand the purpose of Elsa’s power she have to travel North and face danger itself, she will do it. As good husband, of course Agnarr won’t let his wife travel alone, and went with her.

Unfortunately, the Nokk didn’t feels them worthy to step foot at the Athohallan, and drowned them. (I see Nokk as the more powerful, strict, by the book, will perfectly do his job, as the guardian of Athohallan. Thus only they who managed to survive his brutal test are allowed to step foot at Athohallan). But, being the place for spirits, Iduna’s spirit managed to get there in a way. And she finally understand what Elsa’s power is needed. Then her spirit wait, and in one way, start to send ‘voice signal’ to call Elsa to go to Athohallan. 

The message was never delivered though, as Athohallan was a mystical place. That is until, Elsa unleashed her power in large scale (the eternal winter, the “Let it go” sequence). Such enormous power can be sensed by the spirits. And Gale might be the one to take action. After all, I presume he can sense Iduna’s call (the very same, very familiar ‘ah-ah-ah’ call). And starting from the end of Frozen 1, in 3 years time, he keep pushing the call towards Arendelle, hoping it was heard by whomever the message was sent for. Somehow, I feel Gale did this behind other spirit’s back (particularly Nokk, whom I see as the “leader” and the most “strict” of them all). 

Thus he always checks from time to time, whether someone answered Iduna’s call. Somehow he can senses Iduna’s daughter. And because Anna is portrayed to inherited more of Iduna’s trait, I think Gale assume Anna would be the one who answered the call. There’s a scene where a wind carries a maple leave tickles Anna’s shoulder, when she was walking towards Olaf. And then the wind also whirled around Olaf. I think, it’s Gale sensing the two daughters of Iduna. (With Olaf carrying Elsa’s ‘magic’ sense), And that he is expecting someone to react to the call.

And then, one night, finally Elsa answered the call, and activated the rune crystals (Into The Unknown sequence). This summoning of the runes outside of the enchanted forest, enraged the spirits, and they intent to find whomever responsible for conjuring the runes, outside of the forest, without full knowledge of how to respect/use the power of the runes. On the other hand, Gale sense this as the sign he was waiting for. And being the spirit himself, he actually knows what need to be done to repair the past mistakes (destroying of the dam), and what will be the consequences (destruction of Arendelle). Considering his friendship with Iduna, and that those people lived in Arendelle were her beloved subjects, he took action. Unlike other spirits who immediately retract their powers, Gale pushed all living being outside of Arendelle (we clearly see him pushing Sven out of his stall), towards the higher ground. 

Somehow, I think the one Elsa sensed as good (”Whoever calling me was good. My magic can sense it”) was Gale that has been delivering Iduna’s call. Elsa’s magic could sense Gale, because it came from the same source. Much grander, and different kind than Grand Pabbie’s, which make him didn’t managed to decipher the signs, even from Frozen 1, despite his good intention. But Pabbie’s managed to understand how grand the scale is, which leads him to warn Anna.

Then the main cast embark to their journey, and arrive at the forest’s border. The barrier open upon Elsa’s touch, under the spirits’ command. I guess, the spirits’ want to know who dare to conjure the runes, at the same time curious as why the person outside of the forest managed to do so, at the same time they want to test whether the person worthy of such power. Because, they must already know about the ‘bridge’/ the fifth element, that was needed to repair the past.

The first spirit to greet the group is of course, Gale, who’s very excited to finally able to ‘meet’ Iduna’s daughters. He even pushed the group to walk faster, cause he can’t wait any longer to greet them. Upon viewing that there’re actually 5 of them, he’s confused to decide which one of them possess the ‘key’. We can see how curious he is, as he often come and go near the group. Gale is not alone at this time. Bruni is also shown to be very curious at this outsider who step foot in their forest (and of course the Northruldan also sneaking around them). For a moment, these spirits move around Olaf, cause he’s the one ‘radiating’ magical sense for being an animated snowman. (Yes, including Nokk. As stoic as he is, he can’t stop his curiosity to see who are these people. But when he was met face to face with Olaf, he’s so surprised that he neigh and fled XD)

At certain point, Gale became impatient,and decided to swoop them up in a tornado, making this his ‘trial’, to see who actually hold the special ‘key’. I can see that Gale meant no harm when swooping the group up. The branch that nearly hit Anna wasn’t meant to hurt her. And lucky for him, at this time Elsa’s react to protect her sister, and thus confirming that she’s the one Gale’s been searching for. Thus he ‘spat’ the other party, and start the real “trial” to see how strong Elsa is. While at the same time, he’s trying to give as many message as possible to Elsa, which leads to the making of ice statues. Gale redeem Elsa’s worthy immediately of course. She’s Iduna’s daughter after all :) We can see his friendly trait right after the ‘trial’ has finished. He prank Kristoff, Sven, and Olaf, did an extra prank for Anna (whom he see really looks like Iduna), and did tiny prank to Elsa (cause he respect her). 

During this time, Bruni was watching from the side. Then the gang encounter the Northruldan, and explain to them.  He watched all the scene before him as quiet as possible. But then, Yelena said ‘We only will accept what the nature choose’. This clearly surprised him. (It’s kinda like “when you’re dozing off in class then suddenly the teacher point of you” kind of surprise) Thus his power blow out of control. Bruni panicking. And it cause the flame to grow even larger. I see Bruni as the ‘youngest’ of the spirit, and thus has less control of the flames, even more so when his emotion are not in control. Kinda like Elsa was in frozen 1. 

Elsa senses this in away, and even though perhaps she thought this is the trial of the flame (which I think Bruni will said so if asked, so that he doesn’t look like he didn’t have full control of the flame), she accept the challenge, and put down the flames and even run after Bruni until he was trapped and has nowhere to go. But then, Bruni see that Elsa meant no harm, and in certain way, understand his current position (often misunderstood). And even further, Elsa’s the only one who could hold him (and her hand felt nice and cold). He befriend Elsa immediately. And so are the Northruldan.

During the camp, at night, we see how the Earth Giant came to the camp. From the conversation, this event is unusual. That’s because the Giant also sense Elsa’s power, and curious to see what cause the disturbances in the soil of Enchanted Forest. Somehow, I see the Giants as the slower type of spirit (slow in movement, and slow in deduction ability, just like the trait of earth). He’s slow in sensing Elsa’s power entering the forest, and slow in reacting to it, and couldn’t care less when at the end he didn’t managed to find the source, that they went off just like that. 

The sisters saw this from different perspective, and decided that to not endangered the Northruldans, they decide to continue their journey right away. Lead by Bruni and Gale. Gale then showed the sister, the wreck of their parent’s ship. And by Elsa’s power, they finally know what happened to their parents, albeit a very horrifying truth that is. This leads Elsa to go and challenged Nokk by herself, and pushed Anna to ‘safety’. 

The Nokk trial is, IMO, the most difficult and brutal trial Elsa have to conquer. Afterall, he’s a perfectionist, and very confident in his prowess, that he even ‘look down’ towards Elsa.

Never before we saw a ‘princess’ being drowned, thrown, splashed by giant waves, and dragged around under the sea, like Elsa before. And I love how badass Elsa was portrayed in this scene. (Apparently this scene already thought from the very beginning by the story creator, and what shaped the whole movie story. Amazing!). And when Elsa managed to tame the Nokk, is the moment that Nokk acknowledge her power, and thus pledge his loyalty to serve Elsa in fulfilling her destiny, and keeps her safe. After the trial, Nokk accompanies Elsa and help her reach the Athohallan, bow, and wait for her. (Horse is a very loyal animal after all). When Elsa’s thawed and thrown to the sea, he immediately took action and took Elsa to safety. This picture really shows Nokk loyalty towards Elsa (he deliberately keep Elsa’s face above water, so she wouldn’t get drown. But unfortunatelly this concept art didn’t make it to the movie). And then Nokk gives all his power to take Elsa to Arendelle as fast as he can, so that Elsa could stop the tidal wave. This Nokk development is my favorite :D 

Meanwhile, Anna’s encounter with the Giants make her the ‘conqueror’ of the earth element. After standing up from her grief (which is my favorite Anna moment in the whole movie, that make me really proud of her), she took action by ‘manipulating’ the Giants to fulfill her goal. Now the Giant’s reaction is interesting to see. At first noticing Anna, his reaction was like “oh, so this is the one disturbing the peace! Get out! Get out!!”. Thus the Giants chase Anna (and Kristoff and Sven) around, throwing boulders. They even target Anna when she was standing at the dam. But noticed that the moment they understand what Anna make them do, and see that they nearly put Anna’s life in danger, they stop. Being one of the spirit, they must’ve known that the dam need to be destroyed, to restore peace and fixed the past. They really stop mid-throwing. And the look at their faces, it’s like “Oh…. ooohh… so that’s what you’re trying to do…. Oops… didn’t meant to hurt you”. (Like I said, they’re slow ^^;). And by the end of the movie, when Anna reunited with Elsa, we saw the giant standing there with his ‘guilty’ face, bowing towards the sisters, as if saying “Sorry……” (Awww…..)   

I love how subtle the connection between Iduna’s past, the sisters bond, Elsa’s power, and the characterization of the nature’s spirits being portrayed in this Frozen 2. Even tough I need more time to contemplate this connections (and certainly the younger kids wouldn’t be able to grasp yet), which make Frozen 2 “harder to chew”, this make me love the movie even more. I think I’ll watch it again in the cinema XD.

anyway, if you managed to come to this end, Thank you for reading my super hella long theory. Sorry for grammar mistakes. I hope you understand what I’m trying to say, and hope to hear more from you and all Frozen fans out there :)

[lurkingleighbee]

Thrawn Ascendancy: Greater Good Chapter 23 - Chapter 26

Chapter 23 

Apros calls up Lakinda with Thrawn tagging in 

Apros and Thrawn: A bit weird how three families are on this “emergency” thing amirite? 

Lakinda: Now that you mention it...

Thrawn lays out the obvious, with help from Apros

the whole thing is a scam. Sunrise is being mined and destroyed for nyix

and the Agbui likely incited a civil war 

Lakinda manages to put it together: “Three of the Great Forty Families are preparing to fight to the death,” with Apros pointing out that because “each of the three is allied to one of the Ruling Families,” a civil war would likely break out 

Lakinda realizes the seriousness of the situation and tells Thrawn and Apros that “if accomplishing the mission requires the destruction of my two ships, understand that we - and I - are expendable.” 

Haplif is just about to leave, convinced he has gotten everything wrapped up and tried in a bow when LAKPHRO!!!!!

*air horns gif*

and he is ready to fight

Lakphro lets on that he knows what is going on (and that he has been communicating with other Chiss about this) and Haplif just decides that he is gunna have to k i l l him

Lakphro is smart, gotta give him credit

Haplif thinks he can strangle Lakphro out, but he ends up killing himself when a dog grips onto his arm, biting down hard. Haplif tries to stun the dog and kills it, but the dog ends up clenching down (I think in a death grip) so hard that Haplif’s arm is torn apart and he succumbs to his injuries

The last thing he sees is Lakphro staring down at him as Shimkif escapes in the ship

Shimkif is coooooold  

Chapter 24

Lakynm is very distraught at the thought of firing on his own family

and that his family is allied with certain families while the Mitth family is allied with other families

Samakro offers him cold comfort

and that is: “I have never - never - seen anyone as utterly incompetent as politics as he is” and that “when Thrawn comes up with a plan, it’s strictly military. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Lakinda manages to get to Sunrise first, with the Erighal and Pommrio right behind her

and they managed to send in two haughty idiots

and the Erighal seem itchy for a fight

so Thrawn’s plan is to make the other families think that the Springhawk is under attack by enemies to focus their attention not on the mines but on helping other Chiss

Lakinda assumes command

when the two douche-canoes attempt to pull rank, Lakinda puts her foot down

one of them makes the point he is blood and she isn’t

okay, you inbred snob, Lakinda still outranks you. suck the suck 

Thrawn managed to figure out that by assigning certain fleet warriors to certain ships, (i.e. family members to family ships) they would know where to attack “with a maximum of ferocity and a minimum of actual damage.”

the Chiss warriors assigned to each gunboat (safely inside the Vigilant) are picked off one by one

if nothing else, good target practice

Chapter 25

Lakinda discovers a fatal flaw within Thrawn’s plan and sends him a message:

the Erighal and Pommrio will want to investigate the mines and will subsequently become outraged and look for someone to blame

Lakinda suggests taking down the Watith freighter into the fake mine

Her subordinates - whose name she cannot remember (and I feel like Zahn may have cut some names out, Lord knows there are enough already!) - hear the message and remove her from Command 

Thrawn gets the message

and needs to destroy the mine so no evidence is found 

and the Grayshrike pops into the battle!

This is such a whack-a-doodle process, but if I had to sum it down:

Thrawn has to explain to the two ladies - Thalias and Che’ri - that the battle is being recorded and will be analyzed by future analysts. Every move counts.

basically, Che’ri is being asked to see “something that isn’t going to happen” and make it happen

she is literally backseat driving!  

Chapter 26

So this ending is very abrupt and takes place weeks after Chapter 25

Lakphro is being question by Lakooni:

and he lies when asked if he knew where the jewelry ended up

he lies and says he doesn’t

and I am assuming the jewelry is still with Thrawn

Samakro may talk a little - s h i t - on Thrawn, but he ain’t no snitch

and the Families involved are not talking either

Samakro still doesn’t trust Thalias

assume that the story he sold he is being sat on because no one has spread it yet?

or maybe she did not tell anyone?

dude? 

You need to get laid too, dude 

Jixtus isn’t particularly upset with the outcome

which is like.... weird? not even a small temper tantrum? 

anyway he is confirmed to be a Grysk 

and he is hanging out with the purple robes navigators, the same ones that hung out with Snoke

Jixtus has a plan for Thrawn: “Defeat isn’t always necessary. Isolation and neutralization can be equally effective.”

and Qilori is assigned to learn “how exactly the Chiss navigate through the Chaos”

I am already thinking ahead to the little kids from Thrawn: Alliances

No one from the incident over Sunrise is talking about what actually happened

It is arranged in a way to make it look like Thrawn was attacked but the three families saved his life

if you want someone to keep a secret, trust the Chiss I guess

and everyone just buys this stupid premise? That Thrawn would ever let someone get the upper hand on him and these three families just happened to be nearby to help him?

pfffffffft... 

Lakinda is on the outs with the Xoldak family, to the point that family members are calling for her expulsion

and no one leaked her conversation with Thrawn?

Zistalmu offers to make Lakinda a Trial-born Irizi

and if she passes, her name would be Ziinda

I wanna know what the Irizi Family Trials would look like

Thurfian receives the call that the Patriarch has died

off-screen?!!?!?!?!

we didn’t get to see him again?!!?!?

I legit forgot his name too (its Thooraki)

Thurfian is made Patriarch outta nowhere

this would have been nice to know about, Zahn!

Thivik, a Senior Aide, drops by who lets him know that he’s going to be given access to two things:

(1) the true, ancient, and suppressed history of the Mitth

(2) and about the terrible Alien weapon is known as the Starflash  

Sooo... I immediately thought it was the Death Star

BUT - this takes place in 18 BBY and the Death Star was not fully functional until 0 BBY

If you look up a screenrant.com article on this very topic, they propose the theory that the Ancient Sith could have caused the Chaos in a power grab, to defend themselves against enemy fleets, or as a hiding place 

I wanna see Sith!!!! 

I wanna learn the answers to these mysteries!!

[theultimatefanficwriter]

Ahhh, can I request a scenario for Gundham trying to comfort his girlfriend after a particularly draining trial when she’s out of it?? I only recently got into Danganronpa and found this blog and I’m in love 🥰

Heck yeah I love Gundham! I’m glad you like my blog! Thank you for the request! 

Even a Queen Must Rest-Gundham Tanaka x Reader

You were not ok.

Your best friend on this island, Ibuki Mioda, was just found dead. And to make matters worse, your boyfriend, Gundham Tanaka, was the prime suspect.

"I am telling you fiends, it is not me!" Gundham snapped, glaring at the others who were giving him suspicious looks.

"It's not Gundham!" You agreed. "He would never kill Ibuki!"

"I concur! Gundham cannot be the culprit!" Your other best friend, Sonia Nevermind, spoke up. Gundham gave the both of you grateful looks.

"But the evidence lines up for it to be him!" Kazuichi rebutted. "Ibuki was strangled, and Gundham's scarf was found at the crime scene!"

"I have already informed you that my protective neck wear had gone missing from my quarters at the start of the day." The breeder snapped at the mechanic, crossing his arms. "It is quite possible that a mortal familiar with picking or breaking locks could have snuck into my residence and stolen my beloved scarf."

"But we have no way of confirming that the scarf was really missing, do we?" Kaz pressed.

You rolled your eyes. "He was seen without it the entire day, you idiot!" You spat. "And would he really be so stupid as to leave his scarf there in plain sight if he really was the killer?"

"I mean, yes? Probably." Kazuichi shrugged. "I dunno, he never struck me as that smart."

"But Mr. Hamster Man doesn't have an alibi either!" Hiyoko changed the subject in order to keep the trial going. "He wasn't with anyone at that loud mouth's time of death, not even his slut!"

"Refrain from calling my queen such names if you wish to keep your tongue." Your boyfriend threatened. "And although it is true I do not have an alibi, it is because I was busy searching for San-D, as she had vanished."

"My, you seem to be losing quite a few things today." Nagito mused, leaning forward on his podium. "Hopefully you won't be causing us to lose this trial because of it."

"If Gundham was searching for his hamster around all the islands, surely someone had to have seen him at some point, right?" Hajime questioned, ignoring Nagito. He glanced around the trial room looking for any type of response.

Gundham copied him, and was beginning to get worried until Mikan spoke up. "Oh! W-wait, I think I r-remember something!"

His gaze shot over to her. "Yes? What is it, spit it out!"

The nurse squeaked and hid behind her hair. "Eek! I-I'm sorry! I'll speak f-faster!" She looked between everyone as she continued. "I-I was walking around the beach when I thought I saw Gundham's h-hairstyle in the distance. As I kept walking, I was sure it was him from his clothes, th-though I didn't see his scarf, which I thought was odd. B-before I could say anything he ran away, and I k-kinda forgot about it."

"Around what time was this, Mikan?" Hajime asked her.

The shy girl put a finger to her chin as she thought. "U-um. Around 10:35, I think?"

Gundham, Sonia, and yourself let out a loud sigh of relief. "That's five minutes after the time of death." You pointed out. "And unless Gundham has some sort of super speed, there's no way he could get from the music venue to the beach in five minutes."

Kazuichi's eyes widened, and you noticed he began to sweat. "I-it's still possible!" He insisted.

"Why are you so insistent on pinning me as the killer, Kazuichi?" Gundham demanded, glaring at the mechanic.

"You're the only lead we have!" Souda exclaimed. "If it's not you, then who is it?!"

"Hey, does anybody else think it's weird that the speakers in the music venue were fixed?" Chiaki said suddenly. "When Ibuki had her concert the day before, didn't one of them break?"

"Yeah, I fixed it. So?" Kazuichi shrugged.

Your eyes narrowed. "When did you have the time?" You asked him.

Kaz stiffened and turned to look at you. "Wh-what?"

"When did you have the time to fix the speaker?" You repeated. "It couldn't have been the night of Ibuki's concert. You left as soon as it was over. And you were seen with Sonia until 10:00 today, when you said you had to go do something."

The whole room went quiet.

"I-it's not what you think!" Kazuichi shook his head and waved his hands wildly, sweat pouring down his face. "I-I just fixed it sometime today!"

"Why would you fix the speaker during a murder investigation?" Hajime questioned, narrowing his eyes at the freaked out mechanic.

"T-tinkering with stuff helps me calm down!" Kaz claimed. "S-seriously, if you guys are trying to say it's me, it's not!"

Suddenly Jum-P popped out of Gundham's scarf and jumped across the podium until he reached Souda's. When he was there he climbed up the mechanic's jumpsuit and picked at it. Kazuichi yelped and brushed at the hamster, but it only made it's way back to Gundham. Safely back in his master's hands, the breeder inspected what his Deva had given him. "It seems Jum-P has given us a new clue." The Overlord of Ice informed the others. He held something up with his fingers, and Kazuichi looked about ready to run away.

It was a piece of purple cloth. The same cloth from Gundham's scarf.

"I-I have no idea how that got on my jumpsuit!" Souda insisted. "It's not me! I didn't kill Ibuki! I'm not a murderer!"

Hajime did his thing, explaining how it went down and why. Apparently Ibuki had asked Kazuichi the night of the concert to ask him to fix the speaker the next day, to which he agreed to. He then got an idea of how to kill someone, and frame his "love rival", Gundham. He used his tools to break Gundham's lock while he was asleep and stole his scarf and San-D as a way to keep Gundham busy, then fixed the lock. He then met with Ibuki and fixed the speaker. Then when her back was turned, he strangled her with the breeder's scarf, leaving it behind as evidence.

Everyone voted for him, and he was executed. You all shambled your way to the elevator and made your way to your homes. Normally you would have said something to Gundham, but you felt dead inside. You had no energy. You walked past everyone, including him, as you entered your home.

You fell asleep immediately.

The next morning you woke up to a loud pounding on your door. You blinked open your eyes groggily as you rubbed them. You slowly threw your legs over the side of your bed and tiredly made your way to the door. When you opened it, you saw a very concerned looking Gundham. When he saw you, relief filled his face. "Oh thank the Gods!" He breathed before pulling you into a tight embrace.

You squeaked in surprise. "G-Gundham!" You exclaimed. "Did something happen?"

He pulled away, holding your hand. "When you did not arrive to our morning meal I became concerned, my love. I was worried something awful had happened to you."

You furrowed your brow. "Morning meal...Gundham, the morning announcement hasn't even happened yet."

Your boyfriend looked at you quizzically. "My Goddess...The cursed bear made his announcement nearly an hour and a half ago."

Your eyes widened. "...What?" When Gundham nodded, you rubbed your eyes and shook your head. "I...I slept through that loud announcement?"

"You must be truly exhausted to have slumbered through such a loud call." Gundham mused, looking at you worriedly. He grabbed your hand and gently led you into your room, closing the door behind him. He walked over to your bed and sat on it, you doing the same. He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you into his side. "I assume your current state is due to the events of the previous night?" Gundham asked.

You nodded as you laid your head on your boyfriend's shoulder. "I...I lost Ibuki. And Kazuichi tried to frame you!" You wrapped your arms around him tightly. "I fought with all I had to prove you innocent, because I know you would never kill somebody." You let out a long sigh. "I guess it used up all my energy."

The breeder looked down at you sadly and ran his fingers through your hair. "My darling queen." He whispered, pulling you into his chest with his other arm. "You did an excellent job last night. One could never have guessed you used even a fourth of your power, you held yourself as proudly as a queen should!"

You blushed slightly and chuckled softly. "Th-thanks, Gundham." You smiled. "Though it honestly didn't feel that way. It was taking all I had not to faint in the middle of the trial. Just the thought of those idiots voting wrong and causing us all to die was stressing me out so much." You closed your eyes as he nuzzled into your boyfriend's chest. "Even now, I'm so exhausted. I feel like I could sleep for years."

Gundham placed a light kiss on the top of your head. "My beautiful angel of darkness." He murmured softly. "You have no need to fear. None of those pathetic mortals could ever stand a chance against your brilliance." He let out a sigh. "And as much as it annoys me to admit this, the one with an unknown talent, the ever slumbering demoness, and to some degree the lucky one have yet to fail us, and have proven their intelligence at every turn."

You giggled softly at Gundham's speech, though even your laugh was halfhearted due to your lack of energy. "Yeah, without them we probably would have died at that first trial." As you thought about that, your exhaustion suddenly doubled, causing you to go limp in Gundham's arms.

Your boyfriend's eyes widened. "You are in a much worse condition than I originally perceived, my love!" He gently laid you down on the bed. "You must stay here and rest until you are well again." He stood and turned to leave.

You reached out a grabbed his hand, though your arm felt extremely heavy. "Wait...stay with me." You pleaded.

He turned to you and smiled sweetly. He bent down and swept a strand of hair from your face before placing a kiss on your forehead. "Do not fret, my angel. I am simply returning to the banquet hall to retrieve you your morning meal. I will return and stay with you while you recharge."

Your heart fluttered, and you nodded happily, placing your arm back beside you. "...thank you, Gundy." You murmured. You still weren't quite used to how much he cared about you.

Gundham blushed slightly at the name. He nodded and placed one last kiss on your forehead before turning and exiting your cabin.

As the door closed behind him, you smiled to yourself. You felt so lucky to have him. He was so sweet and protective of you. It made you feel so safe. You let out a happy sigh as you shut your eyes.

What felt like just seconds later, your door opened, and you blinked your eyes open to see Gundham carrying a tray of waffles, eggs and bacon over to you. "I am sorry it took so long, my love. I am afraid I got caught in an argument with the lucky one." Gundham apologized as he sat next to you, placing the tray beside you.

"Nagito?" You raised a brow as you pulled yourself to a sitting position. "What did you argue about?"

Gundham sighed and crossed his arms, watching you as you picked up the fork and took a bite of eggs. "I am afraid it was over you, my dark queen."

You looked up at him, surprised. "Me?! What about me?"

"The interaction started innocent enough." Gundham explained. "He asked where you were, and I explained you were feeling ill." The breeder scowled. "That pest then had the gall to assume you were faking your illness! He stated you could be attempting to lull us to a state of security before you strike." He looked into your eyes, and you could see the anger in them. "He even had the nerve to insinuate that I would be your target."

Your eyes widened at that, and you choked on the apple juice you had been drinking. Gundham looked to you concerned, but you waved him off. After coughing for a moment, you spun your head to look at him. "He said what?!" You exclaimed. "G-Gundham, I would never-!"

"Relax, my Queen." Gundham reached forward and caressed your face. "Do not fret. I am aware the deranged one's words are not to be trusted." He smiled lovingly at you. "You would never harm me, I know this." You gave him a relieved smile and relaxed at his touch. The breeder used his other hand to sweep a strand of hair behind your ear. "That is when it became an argument. I defended your honor, yet he simply 'warned' me to be wary of you." Gundham scoffed before pulling you into a gentle kiss.

You melted into the kiss immediately, placing the tray of food to the side in order for you to lean further into your boyfriend's touch. "I would never hurt you, Gundham." You muttered. "I feel important around you. I feel...strong." You smiled up at him, the light in your eyes returning slightly. "Even now, I feel a little bit stronger just by being next to you."

Gundham chuckled and ran his fingers through your hair. "You are important, dearest one. I am simply helping you realize your true worth." He kissed you again, then pulled away, a soft smile on his lips. He looked at you for a while, simply caressing your face, until he finally pulled back and handed you the tray once more. "As much as I would love to gaze at your beauty, you really must eat, my dark queen."

You smiled and nodded, continuing to eat the food before you. With each bite and caring look from Gundham you could feel your strength returning to you. Eventually you had finished eating. As you placed the empty tray to the side, you felt much better. You looked over to Gundham, who was simply watching you with a love struck smile. It made you giggle. You moved closer to him and wrapped your arms arms his neck. "I feel much better, my Dark Lord." You murmured.

He chuckled and rubbed your sides gently. "I am most please to hear that, my Dark Queen." He tilted your head up, and your eyes met. You grinned and leaned up, connecting your lips in a passionate kiss. You felt him smirk as he pulled you close against him. "I shall always be here for you, Y/N, my beloved. Whether it be for protection, or to help you recuperate, I shall never leave your side." He muttered into your lips.

You smiled happily as you deepened the kiss. "Nor I yours, my King of Darkness."