#but i want to get key moments down before i move to the divergence stuff

[pervcoded]

DOG-EARED AND DOUBTFUL starring yuuji itadori. part iii.

──☆*:・ﾟcontent warning: amab!reader (referred to as a boy), canon divergent, college au (18+ characters) inside of the hybridverse. artist!reader, sukuna is related to yuuji. awkward meet-cute, but yuuji is implied to be (and is) slightly unhinged. reader is human and yuuji is a doberman hybrid. fluffy, safe for work-ish. nude modelling. bashful , sorta pushover reader. reader has a stutter. invasion of privacy (yuuji goes through your sketchpad and gets comfortable fast). british use of trousers (pants) and pants (underwear). scent stuff going on, yuuji has a good nose. yuuji is sorta feral and reader's not in a position to (nor does he quite want to) argue. mdni! reblogs and comments appreciated!

wc: 4.2 words.

It’s beautiful, truly. Yuuji is admittedly philistine in his artistic taste, never had a muse for it; but he finds himself wholly appreciative of the opportunity to become yours- even if it’s only for the evening. He can’t control the way his tail wags, heart pattering quicker in his chest as the excitement overrides his previously projected aloofness, his hands moving faster than his mind in that moment. One more page wouldn’t hurt.

You’re just like any other boy in class, really. Maybe the round ears and lack of fur are a bit of a weird look, but Yuuji wasn’t popular when he first transferred to the university either - and some change is always good, he thinks.

“And your tongue—is it really that small?” Someone had asked on your first day in, your classmates ogling your skin, analyzing its novel texture. You’re good at acting nonchalant when you’re placed on the spot. Tone even, eyes level, posture loose and relaxed as you fold your arm over the back of your chair. You’re smarter than they’d ever give you credit for—laughed along with their jibes so they wouldn’t see how gently you swayed. Trembled. The claws of some touchy Wolverine mutt glancing at your collarbones, and you laughed it off, never once minding the sweat cascading down the apex of your temple.

But your scent is disloyal to you. He never thought to mention it. The sour notes of tangerine, key lime, crescendo in the spot where you stand, a heady cocktail of anxiety and embarrassment and horror. 

You’re quite popular for a human, however. Maybe that was your conventional appeal. Or rather stood next to them you stick out like a sore thumb, and that makes you far more interesting—purely by virtue of your association. But Yuuji likes to think you have your own redeeming qualities too. You’re an artsy type. Try and spend a lot of time by yourself if you can manage, but your peers seem intent on laywaying your silence; coveting your time like shiny trinkets in a magpie’s nest.

Still, you’re nice to him. 

You remember his name. Say “Itadori, hi,” and give him a solemn nod before going on your way. You give him your leftovers you don’t want if your class schedules happen to line up that day. You share your notes from Anthropology, and sketch him in the margins of your notebook on the days you can’t focus.

The patience of hybrids doesn’t often extend to their own kind, and Yuuji’s felt terribly lonely since his grandfather passed - what with his uncle not being much in the way of making conversation. But you’re easy to talk to.

“Ah, Itadori, can you come here?”  His tail wags a little at the acknowledgement, but if you notice you failed to comment. “Uh, yeah? What’d you want? I’m a little busy right now, so,” He smiles half-heartedly, suddenly a little uncomfortable to be seen with you like this. You move your stuff away from where you want him to sit at the table, and his eyes are acutely drawn to each movement of your hands. Gathering up runaway pencils, stacking textbooks. “You can call me Yuuji, by the way. I don’t mind.”

Your face lights up at that, and you tell him your name in kind. He tries it. Once for his pleasure. Again to make sure he got it right. He looks back down at the now emptied table, though he doesn’t go to take a seat.

Your lunch is sparse. Two pieces of bread with peanut butter and something else sandwiched in the middle. A browning apple eaten to the core. He thinks about mimicking the impressions of your teeth.

“Ah, well, I know we don’t talk and um - I’m still kinda new here and - please, you can sit,” Your hand fans out to gesture at the chair in front of you, and Yuuji settles into it uneasily. He can smell you’re afraid of something.

“Yuuji…” You tap your pencil on something he can’t see, draped over your thigh. “I.. wanted to draw you.” Yuuji tilts his head, finger absently reaching towards his chin. “Me?” “Yeah. It’s for an art assignment. We’re practicing portraits.” Your smile is disarmingly charming. “If it was okay with you, I wanted to see if… we could find some time to—y’know. Have you model for me.” Yuuji doesn’t let himself get excited so quickly, the hair on his forearm bristling a bit as he digs his nails into his thigh. Keep it from bouncing. “Okay. Yeah. Sure - that’s fine. I’d love to.” Yuuji sounds like he’s speaking through grit teeth, but his expression doesn’t expose anything other than slight apprehension. You sigh, a weight seemingly lifted off your shoulders. “Oh! Okay!” You try not to sound too happy about it, but a smile keeps weaseling onto your face. “Okay so, we’d have to book one of the art rooms, but that shouldn’t be too hard—nobody really lingers around after class. Lucky us, right?” You’re fishing your phone out of your pocket, and Yuuji nearly forgets to grab it with his unbloodied hand.

“Here. Add your number, take a photo if you’d like.” You’re teasing, but Yuuji never was good with sarcasm. He smiles big and wide for it, pointed teeth all in the front row. 

He saves his name as ‘Yuuji 😎’, and hands your tech back to you. You send a quick ‘hey’ to make sure you got the right number. When his pocket rumbles he’s off no later, barely waving goodbye as he leaves you to your own devices.  

You text out the details later. Tomorrow, at 7:00. 

He gets there at 6:56 on the dot. Campus has been largely deserted this time of day, and the few stragglers left, student and faculty, each flock to their club space or the odd, afterhour meeting. You’re all set up by the time he’s there. You’re well-prepared, graphites and eraser shavings finding a home on the floor around you. Sticks of pastels lie short and chipped on the easels mantle, your fingertips already blackened by charcoal. This wing is new to him, but the hallways look just like this rooms walls. Student made murals scaling taller than him, ferals unfurling across the unorthodox canvas; a magnificent sky. Ceramic busts settle atop storage cabinets; baked and glazed vases filled with paper flowers, tucked into empty corners. Paintings hung to dry. Thick ink stains as he sidesteps a rolling chalkboard, gently pushing it to the side.

You glanced up when the door opened, but it was more reflexive than comprehending. You saw him, then looked back at the canvas, focused. Only when he nearly stumbles do you look back up again, and you’re smiling really wide. You wave excitedly. “Hey Yuuji!” His ear twitches near imperceptably, tail high and wagging. “Hey.” He’s decent at acting, if you think he’s faking casual you don’t mention it, just gesture to the seat beside you. The chair you saved for him has tall legs and a strong, straight back; perfect for a model.

“Well, you can take this chair when you’re ready,” he’s taking a peak at the easel sat in front of you, identical setups matching yours haphazardly set up around a squat stage in the center of the room.

Your sketchpage: marked with vague gestures and dancing, people-like shapes. You’ve been practicing. You absently tug at your collar at the lack of distance between you two (forgot you were using charcoal, so you quickly stop) and a strange aura radiates from you, the smell of frayed nerves stinging his nose. His tail lulls in its movement, a tad disappointed you weren’t as comfortable with him as he thought you were.

“For a portrait, you being closer is ideal, so we don’t h..have to use the stage. I’ll just do my thing over here and… Oh! I brought some water and um, snacks.” You tilt your head in a familiar, curious motion, ”You like shrimp chips?” 

He shrugs at you and smiles. “They’re okay.” He’s flattered you considered him, mostly. He really did like that about you humans, such soft and compassionate creatures; moreso than any of the hybrids he knew. Where they-mournfully, himself included-took a unique pleasure in watching another squirm, your kind wasn’t like that at all, were they? Perhaps an underdeveloped survival mechanism. A tail to tuck in the presence of a predator’s bared fangs. Regardless, your grin crinkles the corners of your eyes and makes his heart soar, your anxiety easing out as you stand from your seat, revealing your true smell. Heat and sweet and pastry-light; a creme bruele after the top has been carefully cracked open. Tickles his cheeks pink.

“So, how long you been doing this art stuff for anyway?” You seem startled by the ask and pause before you answer, probably not used to being asked about your interests by the other hybrids. “Years now. E..ever since I was a kid I always liked art, drawing-” You curse as something rolls out of your bag and say sorry to nothing and no one. “Drawing, traditional, digitally. I was thinking about going into graphic design! - I’m still technically undecided, but I love art… It just calls to me, you know?” Oh, he has no fucking clue what you’re talking about. But he hums in the affirmative and reckons now’s a good a time as any to check. Take a peek through your lens and see the shape of your artisan mind. An artist’s sketchpad to him seemed the appropriate equivalent to their soul; so he takes the opportunity to flip through the pages on your drawing pad. 

He’s admittedly expecting something grander. Maybe the inside of an old world colosseum or perhaps something abstract and profound, the kind of things disheartened schoolchildren write essays about; A Great Wave or Thinking Man, befitting of the brand of mystery he’d superimposed on you. Nothing suitably miraculous happens. The task merely becomes more intimate by virtue of your artistic repertoire. Surely, not the fault of his plain nosiness.

All flesh upon the paper is laid entirely bare. Inscriptions of bodies wrap around the canvas from the top to the very bottom like the prayers in a holy book. Any free tarp is not spared, a bared torso and breast here, the sole of a foot en point over there. Largely unfinished yet tangible, beginnings and inbetweens and many more ends; scores of tails, teeth, tongue and claws. “Oh, wow.” You’re still digging through your bag so you don’t mind him, preoccupied second guessing kneaded erasers and rags to wipe your creativity off on.

To describe your work as a product of mere fascination would be a woefully inaccurate assessment. Not a proper acknowledgement of your time, effort, sweat, (more than a few smudges in the graphite, a whiff of salt that sticks out above the rest) and conviction. 

There’s quick notes scribbled between poses and observations, some names - none of which he immediately recognizes, but makes his head fog with some vague posessiveness regardless. Jealousy maybe. He doesn’t linger on it, instead flipping to the next page. Bodies more and more bodies, some without heads; long torsos; hips; thighs and legs and asses,

Lips, mouth wide open, teeth and tongue presenting. There’s a notable lack of vulgarity to the images. A seemingly clinical observation of how the parts move, some independent of the others; but when it all comes together…

It’s beautiful, truly. Yuuji is admittedly philistine in his artistic taste, never had a muse for it; but he finds himself wholly appreciative of the opportunity to become yours- even if it’s only for the evening. He can’t control the way his tail wags, heart pattering quicker in his chest as the excitement overrides his previously projected aloofness, his hands moving faster than his mind in that moment.

One more page wouldn’t hurt. (It’s just admiration he’d say, when the real reason he’s so riled up is because he’d been hoping for this moment; all his anxieties of pursuing you assuaged by your apparent obsession for him- er- hybrids like him—can’t get ahead of himself just yet—) His fingers move with deft purpose. 

You come back with a whole bag of stuff; chips, ramune, what smells like pocky, but he’s not looking towards you as you return. Surely, you think, a blank page can’t be that interesting, and you’re right; that’s not what he’s staring at. 

He’s found your page.

Your life drawing class encourages you to practice still lifes in your free time. There aren’t many hybrids tripping over themselves to be ogled by a human - some models even abject to posing in the room while you’re there - so when the opportunity presented itself to observe something more than a picture, someone else, removed from your wheedling peers, obviously you lept for it. 

You’d grown tired of drawing yourself.

“Ah, Yuuji-” Your inhale quick and sudden, the sharp clatter of a glass bottle twitching him out of his stupor. You stiffen up when he looks back at you despite his brevity (because he is just fascinated with your canvas all the sudden), your hands flapping anxiously as you step close, you’d collapse in on yourself if you had the option. “Um wait, please! That’s private!”

You are deeply gifted. He doesn’t have to stare it like he did the other ones cause he recognizes it as you so immediately. (Letting his eyes wander all those times seems to have payed off). Recognizes the arch and swell of your muscles, the slope of your back and the softness of the dimples in your hips, the gentle curve of your -

A hand darts over the artistic nudity before he can fully commit it to memory, and you shout: “Yuuji! I got the snacks, okay? Just- we can get started now,” He can’t read the expression on your face as you reset your canvas and flip to a blank page. He desperately tries to meet your eye; but your gaze is leagues away. An inkling of some base, carnal attraction blooms in his chest; your unwitting submission appealing to some feral hindbrain before he recalls your humanity, disappointingly gentle emotions and sensibilities. 

He feels sad for you after though it only lasts a moment, his tail drooping pathetically and eyes sagging similarly as the compunction grapples him; and in a frenzied moment of attempting to sooth your shame (smells dull and salty like wood grain) he gets a good idea. According to his standard, anyway. He smiles at you and pants a little. His finger is digging into his collar at an angle, tugging up; in demonstration.

“If you want me to get naked, I really wouldn’t mind!” His whip tail thud-thuds into your easel. “Excuse me?” You initially abject, dumbfounded. Your face feels warm and your skin tingles, the blood in your cheeks stinging it darker, body tensing up. “W-why would you..? I..I wouldn’t, you really shouldn’t. I-it’s a, well - Portraits are mostly sup..supposed to be your face, so, getting naked? Really not necessary,” 

He’s already taking his sweater off. “Yuuji, please.” His tail wags a little when you whimper and he has a mind to admonish himself for taking pleasure in such a thing.

“It’s fine, really!” Sounds so easy for him to say, when you’re on the verge of an aneurysm. “I was reading a little about it-” (and hardly did he ever read), “-and apparently, portraits can be half, or full bodies. Well, you’d probably know that better than me anyway.” His voice is dampened by the fabric, but you’re too dazed to notice he said anything. Everything is happening too fast.

He kicks off his shoes and drops trou in your choked silence, your hands tremble as dread wars in your mind and you remain uncertain of where to put them. Nevermind your eyes. The thought of trying to stop him warrs with the concept that having to touch him, see him, will surely kill you. “You seem to draw a lot of hybrids- so I assume you’re already used to seeing us naked? Though I didn’t see a lot of dogs in there…”

The room kicks up a few degrees and your blood simmers beneath your skin, your boundaries bent and bowed as you struggle to figure what happens next. Your shirt feels too, too tight. His is starting to come off. The slow drag of cotton across his body is amplified by the emptiness of the space, at a pace entirely too casual for an impromptu strip tease. “But there’s nothing wrong with trying something new every once in a while, y’know?”  He stumbles a little when it’s past his shoulders, self consciously fixing his hair after he’s gotten it slung over his arm. 

As if he has anything to be nervous about. He looks at you triumphantly when he’s finished (pants regretfully still on), and he wishes you couldn’t meet his eyes this time; get a good eyeful of how excited he is for you. In what must be respectful to you, you catch his gaze this time, with these big round prey eyes that makes the fur on the back of his arms bristle in the studio’s cool air. A vein in his throat jumps and his pupils dilate, but (too) soon you turn away.

You’ve seated yourself back on your chair and fixed up the workspace, though he has a hard time gauging this new expression on your face. Maybe apprehensive, again? Bashful? You chew your lip with this insistence, bruising the delicate skin there. Your hands move with opposed intention; flattening out the canvas and arming yourself with graphite.  “O-kay. Y..you can.. Make yourself comfortable I guess..” He can still smell you, too.

This scent is new. Near cloying and knitting to the inside of his nose as it pours off of you, slight, topping off that twinge of orange peel and grapefruit. 

“Okay!” He brusquely shoves past your apprehensions; looking mighty pleased with himself-the dog-the muse’s chair dragging agonizingly against the floor as he goes to set it in place. You do nothing at first. He is seated within seconds and after your hand suddenly is no longer your own, flexed potential in every muscle put to pause in the air, your brows furrowing in newfound frustration.

You don’t look at him, still. Yuuji’s triumph of domination having past, he finds the selfish desire to be observed and admired comes gnawing back to him. He doesn’t want to push you (so he says while shoving you) but he really is going all out. He’d like some of that signature human hospitality back, pretty please? He leans closer. 

You get infinitely stiffer and he whimpers. An honest to god beaten doggy whine, and your shock is what finally gets you to look up. He’s far more relaxed than you at present, pouting expression at odds with his slouched posture and occasional pant. His floppy ears tilt open and he momentarily mirrors your wide-eyed wonder. “Finally,” he chirps. ”I was starting to think we weren’t actually friends!” You scoff, still staring saucer-eyed. Your eyebrows go up and down and up, your forehead wrinkles. “You ge-get naked for all your f..friends?” The incredulous twang to your voice wants to read to him like jealousy, but projection is a fickle thing.

Yuuji  genuinely thinks about your question, further astounding you. “Well. I guess only for the ones I really like.” The statement is made sincerely, the smile accompanying it darling, and could have perhaps romanticized the situation had you not been a sane-minded human man. The warmth in your face has turned to fire hot heat and you sputter on your words. “I’m fl..flattered. But humans? Don’t do t..this,” you attempt to gesture to the entire situation, “With their friends! This is, frankly, too, too-” You stutter into nothing, the thought dying on your tongue. “Too what? I mean, you don’t smell like you hate it,” he sniffs. “My nose is pretty good! If you-” you dislike the way he stresses the syllable, like you’re special some how, “-were scared, I’d smell that miles away. You have a very strong scent you know? It’s not a bad thing though, don’t worry! At least, it isn’t for me anyway. It makes you feel more.. Genuine.” He hums matter-of-factly, your pencil beginning to tremble above the page. “But aren..aren’t you cold? Or-or something? It’s always freezing-freezing in here!” Yuuji shrugs, ”Aw, it’s no worries really. I sorta run hot, so,”

You knew a lot of things about hybrids. About their keen noses, most gifted with perceptive capabilities beyond that of your kind. Still it feels no better to hear that for despite your subtlety, you never had a chance to evade their prying eyes. You sigh with a shake of your shoulders, and Yuuji takes your silence as an excuse to move closer. “Hey, don’t worry. What’d I say about new things?” You don’t feel terribly reassured, but you nod along for your own sake. “You got an assignment due, don’t you? Just focus on that. Forget Yuuji, focus on capturing..” “The form.” You finish. Yuuji would have said ‘these guns’, but shrugs. “Yeah, that.”

You look at him again, but only now do you truly perceive him, resigned yourself to capturing his image and replacing the blankness on your canvas. Your gaze is sharp and surgical, your pencil connecting with the paper as you change focus between him and it. Him, his infuriatingly cheeky grin and easy-going eyes and loose limbs. This body worthy of envy. Laid bare for you to wrangle and tame, reduce to your second dimension.

You begin to draw.

Yuuji sits in a silence punctuated by the sounds of your scribbles. Upwards stroke, down again; quick curving motions. Stare right at him, into the depths of his soul. Turn away, and sketch some more.

It’s a lot more boring than he’d imagined it. He is very excited you have your eyes on him; don’t get him wrong, but your stare doesn’t possess any of the fullbodied fascination, like he has for you. He almost wished he could give you his nose just so you could smell his pheremones, or his eyes, so you could catch every little jump of his muscles or twitch of the tail. He’d refrain for a few selfish reasons; Your changes in mood. The straightening of your spine and the twitching of your eye after you got a rhythm going. You ditch the graphite, go for the charcoal, and make some bigger shapes, Strikes some fine lines. Stillness comes simply to him, studying you as intently as you are him. 

Your movements slow to an inevitable stop after a time, “Okay…” You stare stonily at your canvas. Briefly compare in silence. “I… think I’m finished.” You don’t move away, seemingly taken by your own creation.

He shoots up from his seat and moves close. “You’re no..not gonna put your c..clothes back on?” He looks down at you with his head at an angle, suddenly peered over your shoulder. “You want me to?” Your silence is loud. “Okay then.” He smiles, finally taking a look at your drawing.

The expression you gave him is burrowing and severe. An intense glower that catches even him off guard. An unbidden hunger beneath his eyes accentuated by whisps of charcoal, a pinprick of yellow nestled into his irises. He is in both awe of it and horrified that is how you saw him. How he truly was. You define the slant of his collarbones after the fact, rounding out the muscle of his pecs. You sketch and erase, sketch and erase under his curious eye, sketch. Your palette grows. Swirled into colorless grey by your finger, pencil replaced by your finger. You draw without a model, so he no longer sees the point in teasing you with his nudity. Forgive him for expecting something more dramatic- he’s been reading too much manga, surely…

He gets dressed slow and gets as close as possible to your face whenever he has a question. 

“Is art always this boring?” He whispers close to your ear and you shiver. “M..maybe if you’re not the one…the one drawing. This.. I-I’m having fun, actually.” He tuts at you, “You need to teach me how to draw then. Next time when we do this, I can take a crack at drawing you!” His clawed finger crawls down your shoulder, you sweat a little under his attentions. 

“Y..yeah,” you swallow. “Maybe..” He smiles cooly as he eases back into the seat opposite you. “I just don’t think it’s fair you get to have the fun all to yourself, y’know?” You shoot him a look, lip pursed. “A-a lot more people would be more … excited about getting a free portrait.”

“Well, a lot more people would be more excited about getting to see me half naked.” Practically naked, to be a precise as possible. Your exasperation beats out your nervousness and you’re no longer afraid to set your brows with attitude, scoffing in irritation. Like he knows how you feel. The sheer restraint you’re exercising. How adamantly you will not allow this to get out of hand; you will not allow yourself to do something you'll regret- “G..get them to draw you, then!”

“Nah.” He drags his chair closer, but it’s not casual like before. Now the oxygen feels stuffier. Hotness that makes the air thicken and drag you down, a heat that blazes too close to your ears and seemingly makes the air tremble before you. You look toward him, not knowing what to expect (but twitching, aching for it). 

His tongue runs over his canines in a raw, animalistic fashion, the deep pools of his amber eyes threatening to drown you beneath their surface. “I don’t like them nearly as much.”

all content written by me @pervcoded is owned by me, and you are not allowed to repost or translate my works. don't put my shit into ai generators, don't steal my shit and put it on wattpad. thank you.

[thegildenheart]

ARR: First Impressions

In which Thancred is robbed by, and stumbles upon, the unknown Warrior of Light completely by accident.

(My headcanon on Warrior of Light Alley’s first meeting with Thancred Waters.)

The Warrior of Light had many names, and was many things to many people. Hydaelyn's Chosen. The Hero of Eorzea. The Slayer of Gods. The Liberator.

Before all that, however, she was the Alley Rat.

Thancred Waters knew this better than most.

Better than anybody, perhaps; though he was not keen in claiming such, he was the reason she was introduced to the Scions of the Seventh Dawn at all. Indeed, the group he called home – the selfsame that had now become so earnestly affiliated with the various government bodies of Eorzea – would not be where it was today had it not been for the discovery of one certain homeless Midlander.

It was a fact he was certain of, despite the knowledge and trust he had in his fellow Scions.

Thancred himself was born a street urchin in Limsa Lominsa, just as the Warrior of Light was in Ul'dah. He was typically reluctant to recall his time amongst petty thieves, and even further still to relive his pickpocketing attempt on a certain elderly Elezen, but the parallels amused him all the same. Louisoix's boots were large ones to fill, but in the same way the Elezen had discovered Thancred, and given him a life of purpose, so too had Thancred to the Warrior of Light.

She, in turn, looked up to him as not only a close friend, but a mentor, and a saviour. To be looked upon so highly by the girl who had since slain god-like entities called Primals time and time again only ever prove to ground him in a humility he had long since accepted as inevitable.

The Warrior of Light's name was Allie Lindlum, the Alley Rat, and he remembered the meeting as if it were yesterday.

This damnable heat.

Thancred would call it insufferable were it not for the dancers on every street, clad in little but that to ensure their barest modesty. Minfilia had spent several evenings scolding him for his insistence on working to his utmost, so he felt little shame paying such sights a few moments of attention. Still, he was here with a mission, and the heat – welcome sights of dancers or not – was doing him no favours.

Silently, he envied Y'shtola's mission in Limsa Lominsa, amongst the ocean breeze and like-minded individuals (welcome or otherwise).

The Midlander weaved his way through the crowds of people, pricking his ears. The sounds of commerce were thick, filling the streets with cries of contesting customers and honest merchants alike. Aether disturbances were peculiar occurrences, but more likely than not, somebody in a city as large and populated as Ul'dah would let slip whispers of something untoward in the area.

That was his hope, at least; the Sharlayan goggles resting on his right shoulder would guide him if nothing else –

Wait.

With a sudden, growing sense of unease, Thancred patted his shoulder to find it bare, save for the linen of his dark tunic. He groaned. Y'shtola was going to kill him! The device – lenses set tightly against a gold frame – was designed to analyse aetherial energy in the area... which was, naturally, of great import to his mission of finding disruptions in the first place! With a grimace, Thancred ran fingers over his belt, confirming his suspicion: his coin purse was missing as well.

He'd be robbed.

Allie couldn't believe her luck!

Well, it wasn't all luck. She was very skilled, after all. And magical, too! Or so she told her friends. The young girl had always felt gifted in her craft, able to steal from even the wariest of marks, be they tall and burly or small and crafty. Or, in this particular case, sketchy but very handsome. She tried to teach her like-minded urchins, but none had the knack she had, and when she claimed to be able to sense what people were about to do when she really focused, all she received was a scoff and and eye roll for her troubles.

But it was true!

Easing through the crowd, she spied a particularly expensive looking doodad on an especially charming looking Midlander. He wasn't dressed particularly well – a black linen shirt on a white underlayer, really? - but the strange thing on his shoulder caught the waif's interest nonetheless. It was gold and had strange parts in it. That was definitely worth something!

Following along at a casual pace, Allie shifted all of her focus to the man with white hair. It typically took several moments, but her gift did always eventually kick in, and as with everybody else, the girl could begin to feel the ebb and flow of his movements. His intentions became clear to her, fleeting glimpses of changes in his direction seconds before they happened. It was when she felt him stop and turn his gaze towards several Miqo'te dancers that she found her moment.

Lifting the device off his shoulder was surprisingly easy, all told, certainly with the man's gaze so firmly... elsewhere. It was haphazardly held by simple leather straps, loose enough for nimble fingers to pry looser still. In a deft movement, the strange device slid free of the Midlander's shoulder and into Allie's possession just as the man gave a small whistle to a certain dancer.

She also lifted his coin purse for her troubles, but only because he was asking for it, wearing it so brazenly on his belt as he did, and more importantly besides, for his rather obvious ogling.

Eager to make herself scarce, Allie disappeared into the crowd going the opposite direction to admire her new royalty. She turned it over in her hands, marvelling at the strange design of the contraption as she carefully stepped over a drunken, stumbling Lalafell merchant underfoot. The frame was gold – or at least painted so, she couldn't tell – and it had curious round glass bits, too. Was it supposed to be a mask, she wondered?

Allie was drawn from her thoughts by a shrill cry.

Thancred's search was fruitful, if not entirely happenstance. Drawn by the sudden yell of a woman – a damsel in distress, perhaps! - the Scion spied a young, blonde dreadlocked girl crowding around the scene, with a rather familiar device in her grubby little hands, at that...

“Shut your mouth, you thieving little swine! You stole from me – don't even think to deny it!”

Thancred grimaced. His own thoughts – albeit a touch less mannered than his own – rang loudly, sourced from a particularly obnoxious looking Midlander merchant. Two thugs sat at his wings – a burly Roegadyn with a gaudy bandana and even gaudier leather armour – and a robed gentleman he could not see the features of. Easing his way closer to the thief of his dear aetherial analyser until he was directly behind her, Thancred found another woman, sprawled across the floor, hand clutched to her chest. No doubt the owner of the shrill cry just seconds prior.

“P-please, sir, I didn't steal nothin'! I b-bought this – paid for it with me own coin!”

Thancred's lips curled in distaste. It was a scene that grew in occurrence since the refugees began to pour in to Ul'dah, but they were no easier to see despite it. His focus was on reclaiming the device the onlooking blonde had taken, but at the same time... he curled his fingers around the dagger at his side and waited. He could not stand by idly while a woman – guilty or innocent – was endangered by thugs.

“What rot! You refugees are all the same – couldn't afford maggoty mole meat, much less a choice cut of dodo! I'm going to say it one more time: give back what you stole, or I'll make you wish you'd never set foot in this town!”

The crowd that had formed looked on in dismay, though slowly began to thin and disperse. Thancred settled on the idea that the offended merchant had strings to pull rather quickly, given the populace's haste to leave him berate the poor woman in peace. The thief that had stolen his device, however, remained stood, a grimace upon her youthful features.

“By rights, I should turn you over to the Brass Blades, you know – help keep the streets safe for law-abiding citizens,” the merchant continued, a coy smirk settling into his weasle-like features. It made Thancred's stomach turn. “But I'm a reasonable man. If you agree to serve me in... whatever capacity I require, the authorities needn't hear of your crime.”

“B-But I ain't done nothin' wrong! Twelve as me witness!”

Thancred had seen enough. He stepped forward, only to pause at the groan on his left. The blonde thief practically doubled forward, clutching her forehead. A pained expression wriggled across her freckled cheeks – an expression Thancred had seen before.

Staying his hand, his focus shifted, now, to the girl miming an action he'd see Minfilia do several times before...

The girl rushed forward, placing herself between the woman and the detestable merchant.

“S-she didn't do it! I saw it! I saw her buyin' the dodo cuts, I did! Paid for it with her own coin!”

Thancred's eyes narrowed, and for the first time, he took proper stock of his thief. She was young – late teens, by his guess – and definitely the fitting image of an unfortunate soul. Malnourished, underweight, impoverished – her frame was gaunt and empty, lacking in any real shape or substance. Her clothes were threadbare, tattered and frayed at their ends. What hope did she have against armed thugs?

But something in his gut kept him rooted. If she truly were like Minfilia... then...

“What are you on about, girl? I've had enough of this mummer's farce. You lot, teach them a lesson!”

What ensued next even Thancred could not explain. The rush of violence was expected on the part of the merchant's thugs, but the girl – the pickpocket – was something else. She was not trained, nor had she any weapons – but every fist that came her way found naught but air. Thancred could see the equal amounts of surprise and concentration in the girl's face, warring with each other in a sea of inexperience. She ducked, and weaved, and sometimes stumbled, but the fact remained... nothing that the brutish thugs swung her way found any purchase... nor did she, in turn, swing anything back.

“What the hells is this girl!?”

“I can't hit 'er! She won't sit still! Bleedin' rat!”

“Let's get outta here! She's some kinda monster!”

Could it be? This pickpocket, this young girl, through sheer, blind luck...

Did she have the Echo?

Thancred stepped forward.

If only he knew.

[wing-ed-thing]

Fraternizing and Spineless (Kabuto x Reader, FINALE)

Synopsis: Kabuto has a fixation and you sometimes apologize to inanimate objects. Ever since one fateful day, you’ve been drawn to each other from opposite sides of the battlefield.

Word Count: 3,169

Warnings/Tags: Angst, Language Probably, Canon Divergence, Alcohol, Implied Torture, Espionage, Fem!Reader @tiktoktheclockisticking​

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Finale

Notes: I can’t believe it’s over. Damn... okay.

Kabuto sat at the bar. He fiddled with the neck of his near-empty bottle.

You hadn’t been home for about three days.

Even in a village full of trained shinobi, no one seemed to notice him. But with all his years in espionage, Kabuto would be surprised if anyone did. The bartender came over, motioning to take the glassware, but Kabuto held up a hand with the shake of his head. The bottle stayed. He originally intended for the bottle to be more of a prop than an actual drink, but the more he asked about you and the more people didn’t seem to know, the less decorative the liquid became. No one seemed to know your name and if they did, they certainly didn’t acknowledge it. Kabuto only heard the same story and not much more: that a terror attack was carried out on the Leaf by the Sound. While Orochimaru did send men after you, Kabuto saw that crater with his own eyes. He knew two things for sure: your chakra signature and that the Leaf was trying to cover it up. Kabuto took a deep breath, assuring himself that he just hadn’t found the right person to talk to yet.

“That was a pretty deep sigh there.” Kabuto turned to his right. The man next to him leaned on his elbows, slightly hunched over the counter. A few wisps of hair fell from his high ponytail. He took a sip of his drink, nose scrunching at the strength. The scar across his face flexed with his red-tinted cheeks. The man met Kabuto’s gaze. He motioned to Kabuto’s, unknown to him, stolen vest. “Are they working you Jounin as hard as I’ve heard?” Kabuto faked a slight laugh.

“Oh yes they are,” he answered, bobbing his head a few times. Kabuto fully intended on leaving the conversation there, but he took a momentary pause and studied the man out of the corner of his eye. Kabuto bit the inside of his lip before turning fully on his stool to offer his hand to the stranger. “Asai Takehiko,” he lied. The man grabbed his hand without a moment of hesitation.

“Umino Iruka.” The Leaf ninja introduced himself before downing the rest of his drink before waving the bartender over for another. Iruka motioned towards Kabuto. “I’ve never seen you around.”

“I graduated to Jounin recently. You know how it is with new meat on the battlefield. I suppose being thrown in at the deep end is one way to gain experience.” Iruka chuckled.

“So you must not have been home for a while then. I’ll cheers to that.” He lifted his glass and Kabuto fingers wrapped around the neck of his own bottle. The glasses clinked together. Kabuto held his to his lips, pretending to take a sip as he studied the dwindling liquid of Iruka’s cup. After a few seconds, Iruka came up for air. “Not taking the Jounin exam is definitely something I don’t regret.” Kabuto quirked an eyebrow.

“What are they having you do?”

“I teach.” Kabuto’s eyes flickered in amusement. He restrained the corners of his lips from turning upward, covering his mouth with one hand in order to not give himself away.

“You teach? I’m assuming at the Academy?” Iruka nodded and Kabuto snorted, hitting Iruka playfully on the arm. “You work with kids and you’re day drinking on a weekday?” The mocking tone translated nicely into playfulness.

“It’s been that kind of week, my friend.” Iruka’s smile faltered, his gaze focused on blank space as he seemed to recall a particularly bitter memory. Kabuto’s expression narrowed. He had a hunch, but he wasn’t about to reveal his hand yet. Perhaps luck shone down on him after all. Kabuto took another swig from his drink with a casual shrug.

“I think everyone’s been kinda on edge. You know, with what happened. An attack in the middle of the village is some real scary stuff.” Iruka pursed his lips, a subtle display of body language that was not lost on Kabuto. He went on. “You know, just being a new rank in this line of work. I have family around where it happened. I’m afraid that I won’t be there to protect them if something like this happens again.” Iruka shook his head.

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” he said with a fair amount of hesitation. He gulped, running a palm across his face. “With all the precautions being taken by the Hokage I’m sure that it won’t happen again any time soon.” Kabuto crossed his legs and tilted his head.

“You seem to have more information than I do. And you seem pretty upset.” Iruka let out a bitter huff.

“Yeah, I think that’s an understatement.” Kabuto paused, giving time for his victim to marinate in his thoughts before he probed further. Iruka’s chest puffed out as he filled his lungs with air. Another heavy huff. “It’s all just… very confusing and conflicting and I haven’t been able to get proper sleep for a while because for some weird reason I feel responsible.” Iruka didn’t bat an eye at his own confession or at the fact that he was venting to a stranger. Kabuto’s interest, however, was piqued.

“Responsible, huh?” He put a hand on Iruka’s shoulder and pointed a finger at his chest with the other. “You sound like you’re being way too hard on yourself.”

“I wish I was.” Yet another sigh from Iruka. “I really do…” Kabuto frowned, faux confusion washing over his features.

“It was the Sound Village, my man. I think you’ve had one too many to be thinking that kinda stuff.” Iruka hesitated as he looked around wildly. The bar had, for the most part, cleared out to leave Kabuto, Iruka, and a single stranger at the very end of the bar. The bartender had stepped out at some point during their conversation. Iruka leaned in a bit closer.

“Okay, you promise that this stays between you and me?” Kabuto inwardly celebrated his victory but kept his expression concerned and humble. Demeanor sympathetic, he nodded. Iruka looked around again before whispering, “The Hidden Sound didn’t attack the Leaf. At least not directly.” Kabuto blinked, mouth agape in faux surprise.

“What does that mean?” He started to grow just the slightest bit impatient, but Kabuto reminded himself that after days of information gathering, he had struck gold. He was going to find you, no matter what it took.

“It means that the Hokage is investigating one of our own for conspiracy and treason.” Kabuto covered his mouth before letting his wrist fall back onto his lap.

“No. Conspiracy against the village?” Kabuto couldn’t help the slightest bit of guilt gnaw at him. Maybe he hadn’t been as careful visiting you as he thought he had been, but for the moment he pushed those thoughts from his mind. He tilted his head towards the ceiling, eyes moving back and forth in pretend thought. “This wouldn’t be a friend of yours would it?” Kabuto met Iruka’s surprised eyes.

“How did you know?” Iruka’s guard was officially down. Kabuto offered a friendly smile.

“Well because you’re so distraught! Anyone could take a guess. Have you at least gotten a chance to talk to her?” Iruka recognized something off about his new friend’s statement, but he couldn’t pinpoint it in his intoxication. He nodded, describing the journey to your cell and your painful conversation.

But Kabuto didn’t care much for the bit about your conversation. Rather, he sat in quiet, victorious awe as the building you were in and the floor number slipped from Iruka’s lips. In the end, that’s all he would need. Iruka, at least at the moment, didn’t suspect a thing.

***

The blood remained smeared across your skin despite your injuries healing hours before. The Leaf had gotten creative.

You were certain that Iruka didn’t believe your story, so you were confident that the Torture and Interrigation Force didn’t either. Even if it was the truth. You steadied yourself and slowly leaned back to lay down on your cot. In spite of your closed wounds, your muscles stretched in soreness. You shifted to one side, spine cracking along your back. The taste of your own blood lingered in your mouth.

The moon shone through the sliver of a window near the ceiling of your cell. Looking up, you couldn’t help but wonder what Kabuto was doing. You wondered if he was looking for you. You cringed at the memory of your last conversation. The night where you practically threw yourself at him in desperation, spouting feelings that perhaps should have gone unspoken. Maybe Iruka was right. Maybe you really weren’t making any sense. You sighed aloud to yourself. Yeah, you sure scared him off alright.

You let your eyes flutter shut. You hadn’t been allowed to enjoy a full night of sleep and you knew that it would only be a matter of time before someone came to drag you away again. You didn’t suppose that many fraternized with Sound ninja just for the companionship. The Leaf expected a grander plot. Part of you considered making up a lie, that maybe you’d be let go if you told them what they wanted to hear, but you knew no matter what you said you’d be stuck. Your breathing slowed quickly and for once since you had been locked up, a semblance of peace overcame you.

By the time you heard the door open, you didn’t even know whether or not you had actually had any time to rest. You were still exhausted, but the moment you heard the tinkering of keys at your cell door you bolted straight up. Out of it, you didn’t even register standing until after the fact. Two shinobi entered your confines. You could hardly muster a coherent thought and you certainly couldn’t process the body of the unconscious guard that fell at your feet.

“You weren’t away that long that you forgot about me, were you, dear?”

You dragged your eyes up, heart beating faster and faster. Kabuto stood before you. He still held his kunai. The Konoha Jounin uniform fit him nicely, a vision of what might have been in another world. He grinned ear to ear, smug smirk plastered onto his lips. Your eyes widened. Without a moment's hesitation, you went to him and he accepted you with open arms. His weapon clattered to the floor. Your lips crashed into one another’s like waves on the shore. Kabuto held you close. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders and your fingers tangled in his hair. Kabuto’s stolen hitai-ate fell down around his eyes. He pushed it back up and you both parted. He was there, right there under your fingertips. You couldn’t stop shaking. You buried your face in his shoulder and he caressed the back of your head. Hot tears ran down your cheeks and down his vest. You didn’t even realize that you were crying.

“I wasn’t that bad, was I? I know this wasn’t really my style, but they’re really stingy with the keys around here.” And Kabuto laughed, blinking back the drops that threatened to spill over his own waterline. He wasn’t ever one to cry and he’d be damned if he looked like anything less than a hero during your rescue. You snickered with him and clenched your eyes shut, further staining your cheeks. The side of your face melted into his palm and Kabuto leaned his forehead against yours.

“You came back for me,” You breathed, inhaling his familiar scent. He smelled like the village, something akin to mornings in the forest. “H-h-how, how did you? What did, did you?” You could hardly find the words. Kabuto grasped your hand.

“Doesn’t matter.” He breathed in. He wasn’t too late.

***

Konoha, despite its strength, was in many ways a dated nation. The alarm bells didn’t even begin to ring until you and Kabuto were half way across town. You had to hurry. Leaf shinobi acted quickly and every second a new set of peering eyes were being awakened from their beds.

You followed Kabuto closely. You didn’t get to ask any questions, you didn’t have time. All that you knew for sure is that Kabuto, once again, came to your rescue. What that meant, you weren’t sure, but you weren’t about to question it.

Kabuto stopped in front of you and knelt down.

“You go ahead.” You became very aware of the bags under your eyes and the bolt of adrenaline in your veins. He began to unpack a few items from his equipment, attaching paper bombs to kunai and preparing traps that you couldn’t process properly in your tired haze.

“What are you going to do?” The corners of Kabuto’s lips tugged into a sly grin. He took a bit too much pleasure in moments like these. Nimble fingers pulled knots tightly. By the time he rose back up again, he could’ve easily been mistaken for a walking arsonal.

“Buy us a little more time… and little insurance,” he said, not even bothering to hide the glee in his eyes, “It’s a straight shot from here. You know where to meet me. Wait for me there.” As he turned away you grasped onto his sleeve.

“Wait,” You gulped, casting your eyes downward with hot cheeks. Kabuto let out an amused scoff before leaning to plant a quick kiss on your lips.

“As much as I appreciate the concern, we’re getting low on time, dear.” He dragged a finger across the outline of your ear, tucking a few strands on hair back. “I’ve got this handled. Go, I’ll be there before you even know I’m gone.”

And with one last squeeze of his wrist, he went. You let out a shaky breath before facing the opposite direction. You had started to build up some nerve a while ago. It was recent, but nonetheless you’ve started… so you supposed you shouldn’t stop now. Jumping from your place, you began running across the rooftops. Your eyes locked onto the forest. You sped to your top speed, darting into the woods. Free. The branches and leaves blurred together as you continued on. You took a sharp inhale. You knew that you wouldn’t be back here anytime soon.

You ran until the exhaustion caught up with you. Your back felt drenched with sweat, you stopped at a small clearing among the trees. Leaning up against the bark, you forced air into your lungs in an attempt to sate the burning within them. Your head pounded as fatigue gripped your muscles. The meeting spot wasn’t too far ahead. An often overlooked piece of the forest, you were sure that no one would find you here.

A rustling came from nearby.

“You know, when you said that you’d be back before I knew you were gone I didn’t think you’d be back that…” You trailed off. The man that stood in front of you was not Kabuto, but Iruka. He wore half civilian clothes. The scar on his face and his hitai-ate were the only articles that could have truly signified that he was a shinobi. His determined eyes met yours unyieldingly as he panted from his travel. You were in no shape to fight him. “How did you find me?”

“You’re leaving,” he noted, exasperated. His eyes were opened slightly wider than usual. Perhaps even he didn’t know what he was seeing. The trees rustled above you. Quiet overtook the landscape. It was only you and Iruka. “This was the only direction you could have taken and not have gotten caught. Direct path from the compound...”

“Yeah,” You answered, heart beating rapidly in your chest. “I…” Your features softened. Your shoulders slumped and you let out a heavy sigh. Iruka remained silent. “You know I can’t stay here. I-I can’t just stay locked up like that.” He hung his head, arms coming to cross in front of his chest. He nodded, bobbing his head a few times. Iruka’s hand came to run through his hair.

“I… I know.” He pursed his lips, stammering over his words. “You didn’t, uh…”

“I didn’t kill anyone.” You defended yourself quickly. A shiver worked its way down your spine. “Anyone else I should say.” You mirrored him and crossed your arms.

A pause. Iruka could have taken you in, but something told you that he wasn’t going to.

“I’m sorry for not having more faith in you. I’m sorry if I could have done something to prevent all of this.” The honesty in his admission shot straight to your heart. You weren’t leaving behind a lot that you would miss in the Leaf, but Iruka was most definitely one of them.

“This was inevitable. You… thought what anyone would think. I can’t blame you for that.” You gestured to yourself. “I’m sorry for what I said and I just want you to know that I’ve always appreciated our friendship.”

“No,” Iruka waved a hand before it returned back to the crook of his elbow. “I—”

“Why don’t you tell me next time?” Iruka’s gaze snapped up to meet yours. You shrugged with a smile. “There’s a lot to talk about. A lot to apologize for. Let’s just… save it for the next time we see each other. Because you’re not losing me for good. We’ll just… catch up a lot later than we meant to.” Iruka’s expression melted into something resembling sentiment.

“Yeah. For sure. We’ll catch up later.” You approached him and you enveloped each other in a sweaty hug. You took him in, the last of your life in Konohagakure. He rested his chin on your head. “He better treat you right.”

“He will. He does. You don’t have to worry about that.” You parted, Iruka’s hands remained on your shoulders. A rustling came from behind you and both of you turned to look as Kabuto appeared at the other end of the small clearing. He had two bags slung over his shoulders. He gave a respectful nod towards Iruka who gave a small wave back.

“Umino Iruka, nice seeing you again.” Iruka pointed a finger towards the rogue ninja with playfulness in his voice.

“You, sir, are a menace to spies everywhere.” Kabuto cracked a smile with a snort.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

And with one last contrite look, you and Iruka parted ways. He jumped out into the wilderness and you turned to Kabuto. Leaflitter crunched under your feet as you made your way over. You wrapped your arms around him. He murmured a few sweet words into your ear and your lips brushed against his cheek.

“So where are we going?” You asked as you took one of the bags with the assumption that it was for you.

“Wherever you’d like to go.” Kabuto’s fingers laced between yours. “I don’t know. I don’t have a plan from here if you’d believe that, my dear.” You gave his hand a squeeze.

“Perfect.”

Notes: Does anyone else smell a sequel series ‘cause, uh, I left things very open for a reason? Like any finale I’d love to hear what you have to say!

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed and otherwise supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

[nexyra]

James Ironwood, for character ask? 👀

Aaaa thank you so much for the ask ♡ More rambling incoming !! Sorry for the wait btw, I've been both pretty busy and tired ;;

If you hate James Ironwood and don't wanna hear one good thing about him tap out now please ღ

My fav ship(s) for the character

I am not a super big shipper when it comes to James, but there are still some I like more than others soo here goes :

I think Ironwitch is a pretty good one. It's not necessarily a ship I'd search content for but I think these two would work well together ! Glynda is stern and honest and a no-nonsense kind of woman. She has the strenght to stand up to James when he slips or gets too stubborn when faced with the high stakes. At the same time, we've been shown that she cares for him and she knows he's only trying to do what's best for people. She has faith in him but also the ability to stand at his side as an equal. She seems to be the more steadfast of Ozpin's circle : loyal, you know you can trust her, and she will not crumble. This is the kind of personnality that I think James both admire and feel safe with. And the other way around, I think James is a good match for Glynda too. On a day to day basis, he's serious enough to not annoy here, but he's also a softie in some aspects and that's a nice combination to smooth out Glynda's edges.

Ironqrow is a completely different dynamic. The "we're annoying each other" dynamic is not one I'm particularly interested in usually xD But these two certainly had strong & interesting moments so it's a pretty valid ship !! Despite how they might butt heads because of the difference in their upbringing they (prior to V8) clearly trusted each other with their life. Even if Qrow jokes about shooting himself if he had to be one of James' man, when everything goes to shit there is no doubt in his mind that James wasn't responsible. Similarly, while James talks of shooting Qrow for his misbehaviour, when push comes to shove and we meet a tired Ironwood, run ragged by the pressure he's under... the only thing he does is hug him and reiterates how glad he is to see him. So again, they clearly have a lot of faith and trust in the other, and that's solid ground for a relationship.

My least favorite ship(s) for the character

Same spiel as always, shipping kids and adults is a big no from me; so any ships between Ironwood and RWBYJNOR can qualify here. That said, among the less uncomfortable ones, here are those I don't really like

This one is again because I love their relationship but platonically only, I'm talking of Winter Soldier. The reading I like best is not that Ironwood is Winter's Jacques 2.0, nor that he groomed her; but that he was an important father figure in her life. Protective and caring, who tried to help her escape with what he knew. I don't see James recruiting Winter as a way to gain a strong ally. But rather that Winter wanted to detach herself from her family name, and make something worthwhile of herself all on her own. And that the military is what Ironwood knows and understand, so naturally it's a career he'd see as a good path. Just like Winter then proposed it to Weiss. I like to think they care about each other a LOT and they're their own tight family in between the lines, even if professionalism might throw a wrench into it. For short I love them together but not romantically please =)

I don't know if there's a ship name for this, but Salem x James Ironwood would be a big nope from me too... In general, let's just assume I ship Salem with nobody because abuse.

My fav & least fav platonic relationship(s) for the character

Fav platonic relationship would be (have been because we dont talk about V8?) with Winter. Fooor the reasons I've explained above I suppose x) I (again) love the trust they had in one another and the quiet support.

There was also his relationship with Oscar that I really liked during V7, although it has been soured a bit by the (valid) reading from some people that Ironwood sought out Ozpin a lot through Oscar, and given his identity issues it is not ground for a greatly healthy relationship. Their interactions were still very intersting though ♡ I consider Oscar to be the kid who went at trying to appease James' fear or make him reconsider his decisions the best way. There was true understanding and hope for a working relationship here. I do feel that Oscar put in more work than James however (emotionally) and I wish there had been pay-back instead of a gunshot.

For my least fav relationship ? Probably Robyn or Watts ? Robyn was always very antagonistic toward Ironwood since their priorities are so different. And I overall just don't really like her after V7 so there are very few relationships with her I'm interested in (the exception is her ship with Fiona I think it's cute). Meanwhile, Watts is just a petty asshole hell bent on ruining Ironwood because he didn't pick his project. I'm not very interested in hate relationships, and since theirs wasn't deeply explored anyway, it's even more the case here. Their fight was great though, one of my favorite RWBY fights !

My favorite thing about the character

Well this was completely proven wrong by V8 buuut as of V7 I liked that he was a deconstruction of the military general (dictator) trope. Sooo you can guess how i feel about V8 X) In general among RWBY, several of my fav are fav BECAUSE they look like one trope but also have key differences that from the get go make the character stray away from said trope. For example I'm not a fan of the princess tsundere archetype at all, but I loooved Weiss in V1 BECAUSE she was extra-willing to listen and change her mind, and you could very easily tell that it was her upbringing speaking more than herself in most occasions.

Similarly, I wasn't a big fan of Ironwood before V7. I didn't hate him you know and he wasn't lower than most characters in my Tier list but I also didn't particularly care. But you know what ? I've aaaalways had a really soft spot for the "angsty angry traumatized teen". And RWBY made the mistake of extending that soft spot to "tired adults trying their best" (only to repeatedly beat them up/make them villains after making me care about them but what can you do uh)

Soo in general, I loved that Ironwood was trying so hard. I loved that he was tired and in over his head but learning and listening and trying to do good and be better despite his fears. I liked that he told his entourage about Salem and was loyal. I liked that he cared about helping the people above his own image and the way people perceived him. I liked that you could tell this was a terrible situation all around, and his decisions WERE questionnable but we could SEE that he meant WELL and was genuinely trying so hard despite how scared and tired he was.

My biggest criticism for the character

Well this won't be a surprise but in general I just wished he had stayed a morally grey character we were allowed to feel for instead of a cartoon black villain. I didn't need James to be THE Hero or anything like this despite some accusations levelled at those who like him. Him becoming one of RWBY's antagonist is honestly fine by me ! It is interesting. But I'd have preferred they kept him ambiguous and trying in his own way. (And smart because V8 Ironwood was dumb af)

I can be a tad overprotective of his character since he's just... so despised, so I think that I have inadvertently distanced myself from any of his flaws... somehow like "people are already yelling all of them so I don't need to add to this shit show" you know ? skjfkd But I KNOW he has them and it would still have been good to develop his flaws, just... not like that

But yea I'd have liked it if V8 Ironwood DID diverge from RWBYJNORQ and became an antagonist but not an iredeemable villain. LIKE,, we redeemed Hazel and Emerald and IRONWOOD is where the writers draw the line by saying "nope this one is rotten" ?? What ?

When was their writing at the peak according to me (ex : best season)

V7 definitely ! Ironwood carried V7 so hard haha. His character was fleshed out and given nuance and made to struggle and evolve and I loved him in that volume.

A song I think fits them & why

Hunger • Monsters & Men Human • Rag'n'Bone Man Way down we go • Kaleo Beekeeper • Keaton Henson Thistle and weeds • Mumford and Sons Castle of Glass • Linkin Park It's all so incredibly loud • Glass Animals

A headcanon to make up about them

His metal parts impact his metabolism so Ironwood is terrible at holding his alcohool and very little manages to knock him out. He's a workaholic. His low tolerence for alcohool is a great tool whn friends need to put him to sleep.

His joints crack and hurt in the cold, his metal parts as well and they are an hassle in the sand. James like to keep his room temperature warmer than the average atlasian because of this, otherwise he has to spend 30 min every morning simply unwiding muscles to move around efficiently.

He's not a good singer but has a nice low voice for telling stories. If he had kids, he'd probably avoid lullabies but compensate with bedtimes stories.

What I would change about them if I was making a re-write

As always, I'm kind of reflecting along the way as I write this, and one thing I'm thinking right now is... Doesn't it take away from the atlas arc message ITSELF to just pile up so many "standard bad guy" stuff on Ironwood ? Like, I wanna ask... why do we hate him ? Is he an antagonist because he lets fear get the best of him ? Because he's a classist who doesn't care about Mantle like some fans argue ? Because he's too stubborn and wants to be THE hero ? Because he doesn't listen to others ? Because he abandonned Mantle ? Because he kills peopke left and right ? Because he wanted to bomb a city ? I think you might see where I'm going with this : his status as villain is kind of messy. V8 just kept piling-up flaws and villainous actions onto Ironwood with no concern for whether this was a lenght he would go to (using the certainty that he would go to any lenghts to enact his plans), ,or whether these were one of the initial flaws/failings that led to his "fall" as an antagonist. What lesson is Ironwood supposed to learn ? Personally the very first time I yelled at my screen "No ! Why would the writers choose that ?" is when Ironwood shot Oscar. When answering criticism against medias, many people tend to look at it only through the lense of "well it makes sense in universe" or as if there were no other ways for the story to devolve. But at the end of the way, everything in a story is a choice from the writer even if it is influenced by the characters' personnalities. If I took the scene where Ironwood shoots Oscar, someone might tell me "he's crippled by his PTSD, he COULD do this." Maybe, that's a reading I can somewhat understand at least. But the writers have the power to NOT put his character in such a position. When I saw the wreck that was V7 finale, I ranted to my bestfriend about it and at no point did i say "why did Ironwood do that", I said "why did the writers make him shoot Oscar, the only point narratively would be to make irredeemable" Aaaand that's what they went for and I obviously didn't care for it. So if I had to rewrite it; I would have kept Ironwood's "mistakes" more focused. If he's wrong because he wants to abandon Mantle, because he's (understandably) scared and doesn't want to take risks; then stay focused on that. It's what makes RWBY leave, and out of all his V8 actions that's really the only thing RWBY needed to tell the whole world he wasn't an ally anymore apparently. - Don't make him shoot Oscar point blank, instead Oscar can simply fall because he flinches away from Ironwood's outburst; and a distraught/guilty Ironwood can decide that he doesn't have the time or capacity to help because of the tense situation. (Killing and not saving someone don't hold the same moral weight at all). - Don't make him kill people left and right or bomb cities, maintain the flaw of Ironwood struggling with his PTSD and his fear and not being able to take risks. - Don't paint him as a black villain, and eventually write V8 in such a way that RWBYJNORQ show taking risks might lead to a bigger victory, which was the volume's theme anyway. For example, following Oscar's destruction of the whale, a growth can occur that would bring back together the two anti-Salem factions : Oscar's risk put Atlas out of harm's way, which leads to Ironwood seeing that maybe there WAS a way to save Mantle as well as Atlas despite Salem's presence and he might have jumped the gun too quickly because of his fears. I'm not sure, I haven't thought about this extensively honestly but I hope you see what I mean. I think it would have been more focused & more in-character to focus Ironwood's failings on his fear; and the fact that he cares for the people and the greater good sometimes at the cost of the individuals. The idea that by sacrificing individuals too much you forget the people you're fighting for in the first place, could have been interesting to dig deeper into. Keep to the idea that Ironwood is somewhat disensitized to the individuals suffering for the sake of the greater good, instead of making him just

callous & uncaring.

My guess for their MBTI/Enneagram

I think pre-V8 Ironwood was an unconventionnal ENFJ. Aka, the type of character no one would type ENFJ because they go by stereotypes and Fe stereotypes are just enneagram 2 everywhere (aka nice, kind, helpful) whereas Ironwood has an enneagram tritype very common among xxTJs so that's what he looks/behaves like, but the way he thinks (what's best for the people, ethical values derived from an Atlasian upbringing) align more with Fe cognitively I think I'm going with ENFJ 6w5 1w2 3w4

Starting from V8 though, Ironwood veered clearly into ENTJ territory (types aren't supposed to change but I wouldn't say RWBY is the most consistent media when it comes to characters' personnalities)

One aspect that I think would be nice to delve deeper into ?

I understand why they didn't care to, but it'd have been interesting to get a few backstory hints for Ironwood. How did he lose half his body ? How did Oz recruit him ? Or some pieces about his upbringing ?

[mego42]

Shamelessly stealing @foxmagpie​’s monthly rec thing without the ability to get my life together to do these on a monthly basis so, seasonal recs! So excited to see if I manage to do this again with anything remotely resembling consistency but i’ve been keeping the notes for approximately 43 years (or since ~september, whatever that means) so by god i’m gonna use them. 

found my thrill - s_t_c_s / @sothischickshe​

Turner POV!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

guys turner is SO OBSESSED with Beth and Rio

both canonically and in this fic

it’s gr9

also features a weirdly soothing and relatable cord untangling moment as a metaphor

truly disturbingly relatable turner pov tbh

relentless boomer disdain, always a plus

led to the creation of this monstrosity, not sure what kind of a monster would do that

War In My Mind - mintletters16

Backread!!!!

post-213, gorgeous character study 

guaranteed to make you feEl stUfF

I really love the like, cyclical, fractured pattern of Beth’s internal monologue, it gives the whole thing a really affecting at times dreamy, at times haunted vibe

the end twist is *chef’s kiss*

mourning bells - Ejunkiet / @ejunkiet​

Backread!!!!

Later s2 era, Rio’s at a funeral, gets drunk and calls Beth

V short, kind of…..mmm, not sweet, but almost? Idk

It’s got a wistful sort of almost/i can be quiet with you vibe that i go extremely bonkers for

delinquents - foxmagpie / @foxmagpie​

Lol are any of you actually not reading this yet?

g o d ch 8 where do i start

First off how ABSOLUTELY VERY DARE for the tragic angst that is delinquents!beth boland. This poor baby, this precious bean. MUST PROTEC

SHE’S TRYING HER BEST AND I LOVE HER

zero percent deserves dean’s clammy hands, no i have not forgotten, tattooed on my brain, will never forgive

I also love love love love LOVE the ruby/stan subplot happening

(and ruby’s mom!!!!!) (seriously though you write the best moms)

oh god and baby beth starting to have confusing feelings about rio?????? *chef’s kiss*

p sure i was just like, straight screaming the entire end of the chapter

the dugout is like, pure serotonin

I can’t even talk about the closet

tHe teNsiOn

thank you i will take eleventy billion

don't give it a hand, offer it a soul - medievalraven / @medievalraven

am a desperate heaux for any fic that features rio and mick friendship

you are all incredibly shocked i know

still would not be mad if this swerved into rio x mick fake dating but beth x rio is cool too i guess

Speaking of things i am a desperate heaux for: DIANE!!!!!!!!

and DATING ANNIE???????????? Blessed

honestly this fic is worth it purely for the assertion that mick watches queer eye

Why don't we go to Venus? - watermelonriddles / @bensonstablers​

another grief study! 

apparently i was working through some stuff in september, idk, that was like 4 years ago

considering it’s the premise of the fic, i don’t think it’s a spoiler to say this fic is canon divergent and working with the premise that rio killed beth in 302

he is uh, not coping well

extremely haunted you might say

lots of marcus and rhea which is a delight!

rhea is to good for him tbh

i said what i said

truly top notch dream (nightmare?) sequences

the conversation at the end is extremely uncalled for

drop the game - Ejunkiet / @ejunkiet​

Backread!!!!

Am going to die mad Beth and Rio didn’t hook up in 211 but luckily this fic scratched the itch 

(temporarily, it’s a fairly permanent itch)

Bonus rec: missing scene series i wanna do bad things to you featuring 2x02 and 2x04

Viva Voce - zetuslapetus / @querenaxx​

Whoops we woke up married Vegas shenanigans!! 

So cute!!!!! So sexy!!!!! 

What more do you want?

am desperately obsessed with how beth can’t help stalking rio

feels right, feels organic

this makes me feel a lot of stuff about how they could be without their canon garbage between them

🎶 we could’ve had it aaaaaaaaaaall 🎶

you showed me colors (i can't see them with anyone else) - gild_fire / @gild-and-fire​

really into the use of color to illustrate beth’s emotional state, i feel like there’s a word for that but idk what it is

UNIMPORTANT

really nice job capturing beth’s inner vulnerability balanced by her outer stubbornness

am DESPERATELY into Mick playing matchmaker

more please???????

Both Sides of the Law - JoeyLee / @joeyjoeylee​

LAW SCHOOL AU! I suuuuuuper love Beth and Rio here (alt pov!! a gift!!!!) I love how initially prickly they are, I love how it’s evolving into a grudging respect, I love how INCREDIBLY AND HILARIOUSLY OBSESSED WITH EACH OTHER THEY ARE and neither one of them seems to see it

listen I know we’re all already foaming at the mouth over this one but as it’s gonna go down as one of my all time favorites it bears repeating/rereccing

cannot stress enough how masterful the use of POV is here, both voices feel completely true and distinct and I love how the alternating chapters revisit, reveal and emphasize pieces of each other

i can’t talk about this fic without hyperventilating

I LOVE IT SO MUCH YOU GUYS

the slow burn is going to ACTUALLY KILL ME

rip, no regrats

Earned It - wakeupflawless / @wakeupflawless​

spanking

that’s it that’s the pitch

H O T

living for beth’s exit in the first chapter, rio and i are both incredibly into it

second chapter also features violently possessive Rio who cannot deal with anyone messing with his girl so if that’s your thing boy howdy get on it

shake, baby, shake - openhearts

backread!!!!!

according to my bookmarks this was a reread but ???????

must’ve read it in the fugue state that followed reading for a moment we were strangers which is gr9 and I believe I have recced it before. If not, horrible oversight, reccing it now

beth and Rio POV lead up to the bathroom break, beautifully done, low-key feel bad reccing it bc the end point of both chapters makes me want to throw things but it’s super worth it for the tEnsiOn. ENJOY

What the Sea Wants, the Sea Will Have - flashindie / @pynkhues​

I’m assuming all of y’all are already reading this

If not OH MY GOD FIX YOUR LIVES

P I R A T E  A U

I’m sorry maybe you didn’t hear me piRaTE aU

meticulously researched, brain-meltingly vibrant, already painfully sexy slow-burning PIRATE AU

god where to start okay so first off, the world-building here straight up breaks my brain, sophie’s put in the work and it SHOWS

second, the atmosphere. i’m generally a pretty like, vague mental picture sort of reader but the sensory detail here grabs you by the throat and like, forcibly hauls you in whether your brain’s wired that way or no

and hey speaking of throats if you, like me, go a little funny about the knees at the idea of beth holding a knife to rio’s throat (he’s fine, calm down), there’s a v excellent beth-in-a-barrel moment for you

oh christ and the sexy tension

it’s gonna be a race to see which slow burn takes me out first, this or law school

Stunner - foxmagpie / @foxmagpie​

Another high school AU, this time with baby Rio absolutely head over heels for his older sister’s bff

stunner!Rio has an emotional earnestness about him that I feel like delinquents!Rio has already outgrown and it’s so SWEET I can’t get enough

Desperately cute!!!!!!

alL he waNts iS foR beTh tO bE hiS girL

also unreasonably angsty???????

ANN ARBOR IS NOT THAT FAR MEGAN

A Heart's A Heavy Burden - tooshyforthis / @bathroombreaks​

Howl’s Moving Castle AU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I love Howl’s!!!!!!!!!!!

perfect opp to roast Rio for being a Dramatique Heaux 

and it’s gonna be 9 chapters?????? H Y P E

author’s note boldly presumes I did not know I needed this AU when the reality is I did in fact know I needed this AU, I just wasn’t expecting anyone to deliver

so blessed

author also claims to not be team nose stud and yet it features prominently in all its magnificent glory

what is the truth dot gif

A Bit of a Stretch - septiembre / @septiembur​

SO????? CUTE?????????

would be on this list for Rio calling Beth E alone tbh

really really really really really love this Rio POV of being settled into a relationship with Beth

It manages to be sweetly domestic af while still holding the edge that makes brio brio which is a neat trick

@septiembur may be a witch

beth’s approach to getting rio to do yoga with her is hilarious and exactly right, canon-typical amounts of subtlety 

1000000/10

Post Break-Up Sex - femalegothic / @bethsuglywigs​

stg this was called Hit Shuffle

no matter

h O T

with a side of damn i’ve made some questionable choices in my life haven’t i introspection

(no regrats tho)

(esp not with this fic)

not the point of the fic by a long shot but i’m also extremely obsessed with Weed Eddie, so real

She drains my soul... she drains it not - niham87 / @niham87​

ABSOLUTELY OBSESSED WITH THIS CONCEPT

am a complete sucker for paranormal world building that satirizes bureaucracy 

Is that a trope? If so that’s my favorite

I did it. I’m picking a single favorite. You know what that is growth dot gif

ANYWAY i love the concept, i love the humor, i love beth instantly clicking with annie

I love her and mick’s sort of grudging professional courtesy

Love beth as a champion of environmental responsibility and all of the underworld being like …...okay??

cannot wait to see where this goes

Nine-Tenths - riosnecktattoo / @riosnecktattoo​

*INCOHERENT PTERODACTYL SCREECHING*

sometimes i think about rio putting beth’s hair in a ponytail and have to go lie down

science please explain why this rUinS mE

wait hold on i skipped ahead

HEY KIDS DO YOU LIKE UNBEARABLY CUTE DOMESTIC TENDERNESS

opens with rio sleepily holding beth’s hand to his heart so that’s the kind of thing you’ll be dealing with

uGH theY’RE sO CUTe

idk why precisely but rio adding hair ties to his bracelet collection is my undoing every time

Missed Call - foxmagpie / @foxmagpie​

Rio doesn’t come home from a job when he’s supposed to. Beth (and I!!!!!!!) slowly loses her mind

Truly a masterpiece of rising tension

Will literally never forgive her for calling this light angst

I was SO STRESSED OUT

The first person to point out there was an author’s note at the beginning I obvs didn’t read is getting blocked

crush - foxmagpie / @foxmagpie​

Listen even though this is centered around two OCs, they are OCs FROM a (n iconic) brio fic AND Beth, Ruby and Rio all make cameos (I mean, Rio’s pretty present since he lives in Mar’s mind rent free bc they are THE SWEETEST MOST ADORABLE BEST OF FRIENDS so idk if i’d call it a cameo but whatever)

and even if it didn’t feature any official GG characters I’d still rec is bc that’s mY SON AND this fic is TOO CUTE

I have so many feelings over mar and rio growing up and not knowing how to cope with girls becoming a Thing in their life and how it affects their friendship and mar feeling left behind but (SPOILERS) at the end of the story rio starts feeling that too and it’s so poignant knowing how that’s going to continue in delinquents

while mar may be my son, i also claim elena’s #1 stan status

before you’re like meg you’re only reccing it bc it’s a bday present ask yourselves do i really strike you as the kind of person that wouldn’t be equally obnoxious about this either way?

truly cannot fathom how hard i have fallen for these OCs i don’t normally do that

@foxmagpie is definitely a witch

The Ottoman - Niham87 / @niham87​

look i will be the first to admit that i don’t go near as bonkers over the ottoman line in 308 as y’all do

(don’t get me wrong, i love it!!! I love that he laughs and i love that she’s pleased it just doesn’t hit my lose my whole mind button like idk, the dubby or the 306 convo, idk why)

BUT i v v v much love the context this delightful Rio POV pwp gives it

am also absolutely feral for 209 missing scene fic

and anything that captures the complexity of Rio’s s3 feelings for Beth and how twisted they’ve become

so this scratches a bunch of itches, is what i’m trying to say

Bet On It - zetuslapetus / @querenaxx​

*INCOHERENT PTERODACTYL SCREECHING*

That’s what my brain does when I think about Beth and Rio meeting in ch 1

am DESPERATELY OBSESSED WITH the tension between the two of them in this fic

I love how it plays with the ways they have to rely on but don’t trust each other

plus FAKE DATING and BED SHARING (fair warning hasn’t happened yet but the set up is there)

originally supposed to be 2 chapters, already up to 4, prayer circle it goes on forever

do you like drugs (tonight) - s_t_c_s / @sothischickshe​

v important focus on hydration, other fic should take note

extremely about the use of cut to and then flashback to enhance the ‘we were on drugs’ vibe

speaking of, beth and rio absolutely would take ecstasy to prove they are fun bc they are the exact kind of idiots that would peer pressure themselves

so glad beth kept her purse, got a bit stressed there for a second, clutches in that kind of circumstance are A Risk

not that i would know

FLAWLESS USE OF VOICEMAIL TBH

really love the ongoing denial that they are remotely into each other while proceeding to demonstrate how they are in fact, extremely into each other, great vibe

rio dances

I know my brain broke too

mmmm bacon

Navigate A Broken Path - flashindie / @pynkhues​

*INCOHERENT PTERODACTYL SCREECHING*

I have a long standing tradition of getting unreasonably obsessed with side characters so i’m not like, entirely surprised by how obsessed i am with both Mick and Mary Pat but i never in a million years considered them as a ship

AND Y E T

they fit????? so perfectly?????? It’s amazing how she developes them individually enough that i look at them together and think ah yes this makes perfect sense for both characters

and they’re such an amazing foil to Beth and Rio? 

can ships have foils? do i know what a foil is? 

unimportant

GUYS you dON’T uNDERStAN d 

hell i don’t understand

how absolutely very dare you make me care about YET ANOTHER set of gg ‘verse children

do not read this fic if you have no interest in feelings you zero percent asked for

wHA t hAPPeNED iN aLASkA?????????

A Moment’s Silence - femalegothic / @bethsuglywigs​

*makes sign of the cross*

y’all are gonna make me rediscover religion

extremely appreciate the author’s note approach to backstory top notch prioritization

listen it’s basically 3k of beth deep throating rio idk what more you need me to say about it

it is…..good stuff

bless the kinkmeme or fest whatever we’re calling it

praise - civillove / @blainesebastian​

I mean you had me at “three times rio calls beth a good girl and one time he really means it”

ephemeral rio

I left that note for myself in here in the middle of the night and haven’t the foggiest what i was thinking but i stand by it none the less

okay okay i think i know what i meant, this fic (as do all of my fav civillove brio fics) has this sort of like, liminal, in the quiet moments feel to them that makes the moments and feelings somehow feel like i’m catching a glimpse of something secret and precious???

idk i just really like it okay

Heart and Soul - riosnecktattoo / @riosnecktattoo​

oh look more unbearably sweet domestic tenderness, this time to music

thank you ma’am for my life

rio remembers beth used to play piano and gets her one and revoltingly cute shenanigans result

also hilarity

and sexiness

this fic has it all, truly

shout out to mick who sees no reason to keep rio’s feelings to himself

good girls tumblr fic - prettylittlementirosa / @hypermania​​

cheating and reccing a whole series

It’s my list and i can do what i wanna

stop crying about it, it’s four fics and they’re all AMAZING absolutely impossible to pick a fav

truly flawless characterization, next level ability to capture evocative mood, cannot get enough

three’s a crowd: who knew ballroom dancing while dean watches and grinds his teeth could be so sexy 

(trick question everything about that premise sounds A++++ and boy howdy does it live up)

feel it on the way home: rio tries to break up with beth, it goes about as well as you’d expect

(thE angSty tenSioN)

i want to play the game: [from the floor] i’m still not ready to talk about it

(rio/turner, missing scene, 10000000% a taste of what went down in that hotel room)

june after dark: pitch perfect annie pov, really really love the take that Annie is the baby whisperer, can’t fully explain why but it feels incredibly right

(ANNIE X NANCY COULD WORK SO WELL YOU GUYS)

[slashingdisneypasta]

Hi! If you don't mind could you write me some headcanons about being bff with some female cp's? Like Jane, Nina, Clockwork, Nurse Ann...?

One of my best friends is called one of these names so it was odd to write XD Some headcanon’s were totally true about her as well, and some definitely were n o t. XD

Anyway I’m not sure how comprehensive this is since I just kinda spewed it all out so, uh… I hope you like them! 😅

~~~

Clockwork:

·         Natalie stays at your house all the time and eats all your food. Girl has a FAST metabolism so you cannot tell, but she eats e v e r y t h i n g.

·         She doesn’t even have a key to your home, you just come home from everyday activities and she’s slumped in your couch cushions watching TV and there’s a pool on your bathroom floor from her shower and- oh, she has also ordered pizza so get your wallet out.

·         You just squint/glare at her before flopping on the couch beside her. She hands you the remote and gets comfier by you.

·         Even when you have a romantic interest over, she is there at your house, comfortable on the couch playing games on your phone as you walk your ‘friend’ to your room.

·         It’s not all frustrating though, she’s always there to protect you. There have been multiple burglaries that she has intercepted and ‘taken care of’. She’s honestly like a guard dog who also has an excellent sense of humour.

·         And don’t think she just wants you around for your apartment and money. Nay nayyyyyy nay. She tells you all about the Creepypasta drama and what’s going on at the mansion, even though you aren’t apart of that life.

·         And she calls when she’s away. Just calls up to talk to you.

·         You two are the kind of friends that don’t need to talk to each other all the time. In fact, you agree that talking to people all the time is annoying and too much trouble, and you could totally go without each other for days (Weeks even) if either of you were busy! But… without either of you even realising, you always end up contacting each other in one way or another every day, anyway. Its easy with you two. No romantic relationship could compare.

·         She was the groom and you were the bride in your make-believe weddings and mums and dads games as kids.

·         On Toby: “Okay Nat, I like Toby but I hope you know, if he hurts you… well there is absolutely nothing I can do to wreak revenge on your behalf, as he is a duo hatchet wielding psychopath, except maybe give him a stink eye. … When he is looking away and therefore cannot see the stink eye.”

·         More on the Toby subject: Clockwork once took you to Slender Mansion (Cuz you were targeted by a botched victim of hers because she cares about you and she wanted you close by to keep you safe until she could, like, finish killing the guy and all. Whatever though, no biggie. Pft, At least that’s how she made it out to be.) and she had to leave you for a moment so she handcuffed you and Toby together because he’s the only one she could trust to watch you.

·         It was very awkward for the two of you, but definitely a bonding experience. You were both very happy to see Clocky come back though.

·         HORROR. The world of horror is your favourite genre together. Supernatural horror, slashers, basement dwellers, vampires, werewolves, the blob, stalkers, murderers, psychological horror, black and white, colour, movies, tv shows, books- whatever. You two get so excited to experience new fictional horror.

Jane The Killer:

·         If you’re into boys, let me tell you right away- Jane is very critical of their actions. She was at a very influential time in her life (Especially concerning boys and girls and romance) when she met Jeff and Liu. She met those boys, thought ‘Oh, they’re cute. Maybe budding crush?’, and then Jeff killed her family, burnt down her home and ruined her life and Liu became an asshole, and now the male species has been, sorta… tainted. She knows there are good ones (In fact, m a n y boys are lovely, of course.), but one’s that you’re in romantic cahoots with are always going to be under her very watchful eye anyway so she doesn’t really bother to hold back her fear (Which translates into dislike… or hate) with them. So if you have boy problems, be careful. Provided you like this/these guy/s, at least. If you don’t like them, then she’s the perfect person to go to!

·         If you are a boy, then- of course, none of this applies to you. She loves you. Don’t worry. You’re her best friend!

·         Girls are an entirely different situation though of course. Jane drinks that love women juice every single day.

·         Jane is really good with altering clothes, so she’s the one you go to when you need help hemming something or taking something in. She likes to do it, too. Quality best friend time while not being lazy.

·         Speaking of her hating to be lazy… This does not apply at night. Nighttime is a whole other ballgame. Its bedtime by 7 for her if you don’t lock her into plans a week in advance. If she is braless and in her P.J’s, you will not be able to peel her from her home. Except for snacks, but even if she goes to the grocery store, she’s not getting changed and she’s going to wear her bunny slippers.

·         You two watch so many cartoons together. Gravity Falls, Star Vs The Forces of Evil, Over The Garden Hedge, Villainous, Looney Tunes, Ducktales, etc. Any and all that you can get your hands on.

·         You two are prepared to get platonically married, for any reason. Like, you need to stay in the country? Married; You’re staying. You’re the only one who can testify against hr in the court of law? Married, so by law you don’t have to. One of you accidentally planted yourselves with a kid and (Cuz you’re ride or die for each other, obviously), you’re gonna parent the child together and cuz of religious beliefs one of your would feel better about raising them together with a wedding band? Married.

·         Jane doesn’t drink, so when/if you get drunk she’s always there to keep you safe.

·         Jane also gets friend-jealous, a lot. Like, that bitch just called you her best friend, Y/N. Is she your best friend? I thought I was. So who is it, Y/N? Me or her? HM? (She is prepared to turn up to wherever you and this person are hanging, all glamorous and cool as she is, and show off. Prove she’s a way better friend then this new person so they back off).

·         When you were little, she was the bride and you were the groom in your wedding/marriage/mums and dads games.

Nina The Killer:

·         You have known her for both your entire lives and there have been iffy, and dark times but through hell and high water you have stuck with her. You love her. She’s your girl, you are her person too. You will be with her, and protect her from anything.

·         You are the only one in the world that loves her, really. You may not quite understand her weirdness, but you stick with her anyway because you love her.

·         Just like- baseline of your friendship is being ride or die for each other.

·         You were also really into Jeff, but at a more… healthy? Level? Like, you were still romantically interested in a real-life murderer, but you wouldn’t have done anything about it. You wouldn’t hurt anyone (Except to protect others) or victim blame, or contact the victims (Dear God) or whatever, but you would take peaks at fanfiction and gab with Nina about it. I mean, it’s not grand, but in comparison to Nina, hah… you were harmless.

·         Now though, that you’ve met him and he is the reason your bets friend is so hurt and broken, you are not the fondest of him. I mean, you still have a place in your heart for the version of him you and Nina made up in your heads (The version that Nina still believes is real) but that isn’t the real him. Jeff Woods is an ass. You need to keep your friend safe from him.

·         And uh… so nowadays… occasionally, you will find out where Jeff is (You keep an ear out) and, you know, just… lie your ass off to Nina. Yep. You tell her you heard that he’s in the opposite direction than he is so that she’ll unknowingly put more distance between him and her.

·         Yes. It’s a lie, but… its for the greater good! It’s for Nina’s mental health and physical safety.

·         Anyway, moving on to lighter things.

·         In your make believe mums and dads/’grown up’ games that you would play together as kids, you were a single parent and she was the dog.

·         She will lie for you in an instant. She’s also really good at it.

·         You walked into a room once and saw she was drawing something, and it turned out to be your joint tombstone. She has not let this go- you will be buried in the same plot together, if it is the last thing she does. This is slightly concerning, but… also kind of cute. You can roll with it.

·         “What if I get married or have kids?”

·         “They will need to apply with me to join. There will be an interview process.”

·         ‘What about pets?”

·         “Oh, they can come in! No fee!”

·         Do not underestimate her weight. If she doesn’t want you to leave, she will hold onto your leg and go deadweight, and you will s t r u g g l e.

·         Nina talks to herself, but she acts like the person she’s talking to is another person, inside her mind. You both know its not, but you refer to the other girl as Agnes anyway. Super casual.

·         Follows you when you go on dates (At least the first one with someone)to make sure all goes well and texts you rapid fire when she smells something fishy. Even the smallest thing.

·         You two really love dystopian teen fiction. Divergent? Matched? Hunger Games? Maze Runner? Ugles? Alllllll. You consume them and then watch the movies/tv shows too.

Nurse Ann:

·         Live-in medical services! This means you can get really cheap life insurance and not worry about it to much.

·         And on the topic of insurance… Ann is super smart, and organised, and just really awesome at practical stuff like that. Insurance, bills, mortgages, any kind of forms and receipts. And she’s happy to sit down and help you go through it- and, as we all know, everything is better when it’s with a friend you feel comfortable with.

·         You can tell Ann anything and she’ll just roll with it. No judgment. Either she takes it and lets you talk about it or she just acknowledges it and moves on.

·         Like Jane, Ann has very little patience for boy problems. In fact, she has zero time for it. Boys? Girls? No thank you. So if you’re into boys, I have some bad news for you.

·         Best friend maintenance. Occasionally, Ann will over work herself (with murder) and you will need to guide her to relaxation. Gently persuade her to sit down at the dinner table and just make idle chit chat with her every now and then as you make her a good, hearty meal (Or as good as you can do XD Anything between Beefy stew and a Cheese toastie will work fine, don’t worry. She’s not picky at all), and then watch some movies with her. No phones, no knitting, no drawing, no… whatever. No other activities except TV watching! She needs to rest. I’m always shocked at how relaxing just sitting and watching TV can be. There’s a big difference between doing that and multitasking.

·         Ann will call you to pretend there’s an emergency if you want to get out of social engagement.

·         A thing that two enjoy together is science fiction. Star Trek (Including the animation), The War of Worlds, the world of Star Wars, Dune, a Handmaids Tail, The 100, Eureka, etc. She loves the brainy stuff.

·         Ann is the logical friend, who tries to give the most practical advice and make pros and con lists and everything. And then you go ahead and do the crazy thing, the thing she said definitely would not work and would probably make things worse, and she just face palms and says she’s never getting mixed up in your mess again. … Until the next time, when she totally does.

·         “I love you Y/N, but I am not about to walk into a police office and bail you out of jail so do not do that.”

·         You trap her into resting by painting her nails (Hands and feet) in her sleep right before her alarm is about to go off so she has to take the morning SLOW or the paint will mess up. She just wakes up, you hold up a sign in front of her face that says ‘NAILS’ and she stops immediately. “You bitch.”

·         As kids, of course, the two of you would play make-believe family games and you were both mums (/ or you were the dad). She was the working mum and you were forced to stay home take care the baby (large container of vitamins with a face drawn on).

[mira--mira]

Question from an aspiring writer:

How do you stay motivated on one project for such a long time?

I personally have the attention span of a goldfish, and whenever I have an idea I either have to write down everything my brain can spew immediately or have it be lost in the void for eternity.

Never mind going back and turning my outline into a fic or gasp editing.

Do you have any tips and/or tricks you use?

Ok, I got completely carried away with this just fyi, but hopefully I ended up answering your actual question 😂 tl;dr at the bottom.

To be honest, staying motivated is a tricky thing, one that I feel I'm still learning how to do even now and varies a bit between shortfics/oneshots and multi-chaptered fics/longfics. For a bit of background, I've been writing fanfic for about a year and a half, but I've been writing original fiction since I was seven, over a decade and a half, and I still wrestle with it. It's definitely a learning process.

One thing I wish someone would have told me when I was starting out was the power of ~scenes~ in either multi-chapters or one-shots. All writing is ultimately made up of scenes, but if you're struggling to put things together, focusing on an individual scene, or multiple short scenes, might help you focus on getting something completed, and it's something that eventually can be applied to longer works as well. Writing has been a snowball process for me and once I started getting anything completed, I felt more secure in knowing what I could write comfortably and what was out of my comfort zone, eventually getting to the point where I felt comfortable tackling bigger and longer projects and knowing I could stay with them.

OoT's interlude chapters and the snippet series are both good examples of scenes because I wrote them with that intention...even if most of them are actually two or three scenes combined. "Gai meets Hashirama and Madara", "Hashirama gets revenge on Kakashi", "Tatsuki and Hashirama pick flowers for Madara, then give them to him" etc. were all my starting points.

If you're first starting out and feel comfortable with outlines of some sort before you start writing I would encourage you to try and write down a bullet point list of your scene(s) and what you know you want to happen in it.

"Gai meets Hashirama and Madara"

* Hashirama meets Gai first, mistakes him for Lee.

* Madara is shopping for a gift for Hashirama

* Madara finds Gai and Hashirama, they spar, Gai kicks his ass, both of them love him.

This is how my initial outline looked for the first interlude chapter, technically each one of these "points" are their own scenes stuck together. Outlining is different for everyone, some people like super specific points, others even less detail than this. For me this is a nice middle that gives me a roadmap for the chapter, but allows plenty of room to naturally diverge and add detail. Play around with outlines and see what you're comfortable with/what gives you the best results.

I'm not sure of your individual situation, but if you're struggling to put together fics in general something like this might help. Doing this process again and again personally helps me stay on track and gives me a sense of progress.

This sense of progress is ultimately key and why I think motivation differs slightly between one-shots/short fics and longfics. If you confine the individual scene to a one-shot, that might give you the motivation to complete it. Even if you start writing and you get interrupted/can't finish having in one setting, bullet points sometimes help inspire me to finish because I'm not starting from scratch when I return to writing. The whole "eat an elephant one piece at a time" thing was difficult for me to learn, but ultimately proved true. Learning to chip away at something bit by bit is going to be the only (healthy) way to write longer projects you can't complete in one sitting.

For longer projects, it's a similar beast just on bigger levels and with an added dimension. I would actually suggest something similar to OoT for a starting project because it is ultimately broken up into arcs that you know and can reference, instead of making a lot of og content for a fan setting. Maybe not go into it thinking, 'I'll do a complete rewrite' but once you feel like you're ready for a longer project 30K+ or so, the rough outline method and the ability to follow arcs was what got me started when I eventually decided to make the fic multi-chaptered. Try writing one arc and keep yourself contained in that. Now the added dimension aspect in general for longfics is that you eventually want to plot individual chapters in a multi-chaptered longfic and individual arcs (character, plot, etc). This comes with practice. I honestly don't think there's a way to get around that. It's something that I'm still trying to work on and I can look back at my early work and see how I've improved, how I can recognize where things didn't go well in certain places, and how I would change them if I was writing today. That's a good thing to be able to do, it means you've grown! The other thing I find that helps with staying motivated week after week for longer projects is to roughly know where you're going and to try to be excited about a plot point/scene/chapter/etc that you're going to write. Really try to hype yourself up. For me, it's a moment that comes at the very end of the chunin arc and I start grinning even thinking about it because I know it's going to be awesome. It's always what gets me through the rough days, imagining the moment I'll get to actually write that scene in its entirety (it's definitely already outlined and I mentally play it out at least twice a week lol) and is a big motivating drive.

So far I think this is pretty standard stuff if you're an outliner and you've been writing for a few years, but the other thing motivational-wise for me is having a schedule. From reading this message alone, I would not suggest it for you right away. Get comfortable finishing small things and feeling confident that if you let an idea sit for a week or two, you can pick it back up and continue. But if you eventually dip your toes into longfics (and don't plan to pre-write everything before you publish) that routine and rhythm really helps keep me going. I've made a commitment, I've posted it online, I'm going to stick to it. No one is going to jump down my throat if I fail to keep it (this is still a hobby and having fun is the most important thing) but in my mind I should commit to it unless something irl prevents me from doing so. Don't put a tight deadline on yourself, I'd start with once a month or if you write shorter chapters every three weeks. This also would help you build up and get a readership, interaction being another big motivational key.

Also, it's important to accept that sometimes you bite off more than you can chew, and when you feel completely demotivated from a fanfic project...it's okay to drop it. It's okay to take a step back and work on something else. Maybe you'll come back to it, maybe you won't. If you can, try to pinpoint what it was about that project that made you demotivated, were you pushing yourself too much and you got burnt out, was it an ongoing series and your interest for canon lagged and so did the fic, was it just too stressful to keep juggling plotpoints, etc. and keep that in mind moving forward. Every experience can be a learning one and eventually make you a better writer that can eventually tackle those bigger projects. Don't be afraid to take on big aspirational projects, but don't walk into them blind either. Above all, and this is repeated a lot because it's true, enjoy what you write. Some days you might not. That's true with anything, but any project you take on the good should outweigh the bad.

This is my wrap up of the motivational section but I also wanted to throw my two-cents in about editing because "oh no editing" is a perspective I've seen from a lot of writers, and used to have myself, but I think is going to stifle your progress in the long run.

Here's the thing: you need to look forward to editing.

You don't have to be jumping for joy, but editing, imo, should be a positive thing. You have all these great ideas, you made it into a fic, something you wrote, and now you get to go back and make it even better! This is a tough attitude to adopt. I'm not going to pretend otherwise. It took me a long time to unlearn the negative attitude and even then sometimes I still wish the editing was already done once I type in the last period. But I've learned to at least appreciate what editing does and I try to think to myself as I'm going through and making changes things like "wow, this suddenly became so much better. X plot point that I thought of ten pages from now is suddenly being hinted at and doesn't come out of left field. The transition points are a lot cleaner, it's not so jarring anymore. I bet the readers are going to love this little detail. Here's some foreshadowing that I hope someone picks up bc it's going to come back in like 5 chapters from now" it's hard, especially when you start, but this is something you made, and now are actively making better and that's something to celebrate.

I hope this helps anon! I know it's a lot and I'm by no means an expert but I've been doing this for more than a decade because I love it and I want to help others get into writing to! I have no problem answering any writing questions you may have if you find this helpful!

tl;dr

-motivation is slightly different between short/long fics.

-starting out, learn to outline by scenes and focus on finishing small projects and getting to a point where you feel like you can put something down and come back and pick it up again in a week. Completion is key and will help you feel satisfied/know your limits.

-long projects also can work on the scene-to-scene outline but now with individual chapters and individual arcs. It's tough to balance both but comes with practice. Bit-by-bit is key, as is having 'one moment you can't wait to write', possibly a schedule if it works for you, and reader feedback are all huge long-term motivational points.

-editing is tough but learn to look forward to it instead of dreading it.

edited: added a bit more/few typos fixed

[hotsexydorks]

I really loved your "Daddy's Boys" story from your Prompts & Scribbles Collection. Do you think you could expand a little more on that 'verse? Jordan definitely needs to join the family—as you had foreshadowed at the end—but what about another Daddy to help the poor Sheriff out with all his needy boys? I feel like Daddy Argent could be up to the task... :3c

Picked up the story from where it left off in the first one :)

Daddy’s Boys 2 : Sheriff/Parrish

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14053365/chapters/80706124

The drive to the convention droned on as the pair travelled down the road. Having set out early in the morning John feigned wanting to catch more sleep by turning his head to the side and pulling back the seat. In reality the man was just plotting his next move. This power he had was his, he didn’t know how long for or what it meant but he knew what he wanted, right now he wanted a way to corrupt his new Deputy.  

 Taking the entire drive to think about his plans John could feel a part of him enjoying it and wanting more. It felt so right, so right that he could see that even just his thoughts could affect the world around him, it gave him a rush like he had never felt before. 

“Uh. Sheriff?” Parrish called out. Reaching out he touched the older man’s shoulder to wake him. Giving a gentle shake he rolled his neck and body after the quiet drive. 

All the time that John had to himself let the Sheriff come up with a plan for their weekend. His experience with his three boys already had given him enough knowledge to know that the more general the better. Starting with smaller pieces and building them up was the best way and the fastest way. After all Derek barely lasted a few days before he was his, now he was sure Parrish would be his by the end of the long weekend. 

“You know I wish you’d relax more around me when we’re not at work.” Just like all the times before John could feel the little pulse radiate from his body, the coin around his neck glinting gently on the chain. 

Blinking a few times at the reflection of the light in his eyes Parrish shook his head, swinging the tiredness off of his body and with it began shedding his old self. “Sorry John, I guess it’s just some old ranking habits from the army.” He tried to excuse himself for his overt properness that had earned him his nickname of Scout in the station bullpen. 

“It’s alright Jordan.” The boss replied, sitting up slowly and looking around at the hotel. 

“Looks like they picked out a fancy place for this year’s convention.” He said with a whistle joining in with the Sheriff’s assessment of the building. 

“As long as they’re paying.” John agreed with a chuckle. 

Getting out of the car together the pair both did simultaneous stretches, taking in the fresh flowing air and basking in the warm glow of the high morning sun. 

“Well let’s go get checked in and put our things in our room. We’ve got free time until the first meeting later on.” Sheriff said opening up the back of the car and taking his things out, Parrish on the other side doing the same. 

Entering the tall hotel they walked through the grandiose lobby. Passing various people around them John recognised a few faces in the crowds; cops that he had started with, some officers that he had met a few years into his job, even older officers that continued to help out. Following the scattered trail of people they made their way to the front desk.

“How about you go sign us in with convention and I’ll get the keys to the room and I’ll meet you back over by the desk.” John suggested with a nod in the direction of the organisation desk. 

“Sure thing Sher-- John.” Catching his own words Jordan chuckled as he corrected himself and left the older man. 

With diverging tasks John watched Parrish go off already setting his plan in motion for his newest boy. 

“Hi, I have a booking under Stilinski.” 

“Certainly sir..” With a quick flurry of the information the receptionist looked for their booking. “That’s one room with two singles.” He said asking for the confirmation. 

“Actually, there’s been a slight change, could I get the room changed to a single queen?” John asked, trying to vie for a different room without being too aggressive in his approach. 

“Let me look it up for you…” Clacking at the keyboard again he looked up with slight worry on his face. “I’m afraid we’re almost fully booked with the convention, the only room we have left available is the honeymoon suite which will cost you extra if you want to upgrade.” 

This was perfect, almost too perfect for his plans, fighting back the smirk that wanted to flash on his face. John nodded with only a small smile. “That’s okay, could you charge it to my card?” He asked, wanting to snatch up the room as quickly as possible John pushed his card across the counter giving the hotel worker the go ahead. 

“Alright then let me just change this up…” The clerk worked the system and quickly changed John’s booking around giving him the suite and swapping the rooms. “That’s all confirmed on our end, here is your key and your room is 802. The elevator is down that hallway and then the room will be left after doors open on the eighth floor. I hope you have a pleasant stay with us.“ 

Taking everything back with that same smile John nodded. “Thanks. I’m sure it'll all be perfect”  Winking a the worker John picked up the things and made his way over to the desk seeing Jordan chatting with a few other new recruits to the force. 

The male was smiling and being courteous to the strangers, an aspect John had admired about him which made him want to leave his mark behind it all even more. Take the clean interior and paint it. 

“Sheriff Stilinski!” One of the stationed volunteers called out to the older man with a smile. “I heard you were joining us with a new second this year, which must be this strapping gentleman here.” 

Parrish blushed a little bit at the praise he had received from the strangers, being polite and courteous wasn’t anything he thought was that out of the ordinary. 

“That’s right, Deputy Parrish has been a great help to the station and to me since he joined, I’m very proud of him.” John smiled at the Deputy making him blush even more. 

“John… uh, Sheriff Stilinski - “ Correcting himself again Jordan quickly made sure that he didn’t leave any dead air. “- is just being kind. I’m only helping out here and there, it’s really all the other officers that do the heavy lifting.” Trying to smile kindly he swept at the praise and looked almost pleadingly to John for a proverbial life ring. 

“He’s just being modest, our Scout here is worth every bit of praise he gets.” Laughing properly the older man patted Jordan on the back as he started to disengage the situation. “We should head up to our room though, get our stuff down and stretch out after the long drive.” 

Waving them off the pair separated from the side group and started away from the main floor towards the elevator. As the elevator rose through the floors the sound waved in the background behind them with stereotypical elevator music filling the empty space. 

“Thanks, I didn’t think they were going to let me go unless I ran.” Jordan tried to make a joke at how heavily friendly the group had been when he first went over to sign them in. 

“Trust me, if you think they’re bad now wait till you find them at the bar after hours. You need to be Houdini to get away from them.” 

“I’ll make sure to keep that in mind and get an exit strategy in place. How was everything with reception? Was there any trouble?” 

Being asked about the other side of their plans John let out a soft sigh. “Well it seems like there was a mix up in some bookings so our room got changed but we’ll just have to see what it is. I’m sure we’ll be able to make do with what we’ve got. He said that they were booked up with the convention going on this weekend.” 

The elevator dinged in perfect time, opening the doors a moment later to the corridor. Following down the signs and the numbers John and Parrish traveled down the floor that had its rooms sporadically spread out. 

“800… 801…” John muttered to himself as they both looked for their room. 

“802?” Parrish called out looking at the door in front of him, stealing a glance at what was written on the key slip they had. 

“802.” Nodding in reply John smiled, lifting up the key for the door and unlocking it with a simple swipe of the card. “Home sweet home.” 

In the room it was lavishly open. It was more of a bachelor apartment than it was a hotel room. Stepping in they were greeted to an open room, neatly spread spaces that flowed into the next with ease. One corner had couches surrounding a coffee table that all faced onto a wall mounted TV. The other a small little kitchen area with high seats and a counter. Facing out over the top of the city line they had a balcony that overlooked the surrounding area which had to be one of the best views in the place. 

But the expense didn’t end there. Off against the wall on the other side was their bed, a comfortable queen sized bed, just one. The single unit bed was enough to stop their amazement of the room. 

“There’s only one bed.” Jordan pointed out as their bags came to a halt. 

“That’s no problem right? The couch doesn’t look all that comfortable but we can share, it’s got plenty of room.” John said as he truly acted nonchalant about the fact there was one bed after all he was the one that orchestrated it. “Hey Parrish, look over here. There’s a jacuzzi bath here as well.” The Sheriff called out, waving the Deputy towards him and showing the wide open bathroom. 

“Seems more like an upgrade than a mix up, but are you sure sharing the bed is okay? I don’t want it to--” 

“Relax Jordan, I told you before, didn't I? You should be more relaxed around me.” John started to slowly twist the earlier change he had made earlier in the car, glinting again around his neck the coin shone in the overhead light. 

“Right.. You’re right, Sorry John, I guess it’s just been a while since I’ve had to share a space with someone before, let alone my boss.” Straightening his clothes Jordan swallowed down with the confession the changing male looked around as he grabbed his shirt and fanned the air from his body. “Do you mind if I take some clothes off? It was a long drive and I don’t want to sweat out my clothes.” He asked as he had already begun peeling his t-shirt and dropping it to the floor. 

“No go right ahead, do what you need to do, it’s just us here after all.” John reassured him with a slight hesitancy at how fast things had begun to shift. Of course he had anticipated for things to move faster but this was still faster than even he thought. 

Disappearing from view for a moment Jordan stepped to the couch and started to hang his clothes out so that they could air without becoming stale, but he didn’t stop there. Coming back Jordan was dressed only in a pair of white briefs, cut up into his crotch; the briefs could have been mistaken for a thong if it weren’t for thinner covering over his ass. Which explained to John how the other’s ass always looked so smooth in the tight work pants of their uniform. 

“Hope you don’t mind, I’m usually just lounging in my own place. After spending time in the army you kind of get used to it, you know?” Jordan asked, alluding to the man’s own time serving. With a smile as he came back and looked around the tub. “I haven’t had a good tub in a long time, I’ve been meaning to get one for my place but they’re so expensive to run.”

 “Not at all.” John replied, his eyes eagerly taking in the other’s body. Being almost fresh off of his time in service Parrish’s body was still in peak condition. Muscles cut and strong, his skin was also smooth and soft. All of it looking like it was calling out to the man for his marks. 

Usually walking around his own apartment in his underwear Jordan’s mind began to slowly twist and form into this new Jordan that was placing John in that same space that would allow him to lower his inhibitions and open himself up to becoming one of John’s boys - one of Daddy’s boys. 

“Why don’t we try it out? After all, we’ve got time before we’re needed for anything and the opening meeting is always just a standard introductory meeting that we could skip.” John tested the hypothetical waters dipping his idea into the space with a little wave. “It would be a good way of relaxing together and building our bond.” John pushed a little more trying to shape the other’s view of it with his nudges. 

“Sounds like a good idea, as long as you’re okay with skinny dipping. I didn’t bring any swimming stuff with me and I don’t think it’d be a great idea to get our underwear soaked in the tub.” The younger male explained looking around the bathroom for things that would make their shared, essentially, bath together more than just water. 

“That was exactly what I was thinking.” Smiling at the other John clapped at Jordan’s shoulder as he passed him. Going out to the bed right beside the bathroom the older man started to take his clothes off. “Start the water so it’s good and hot.” 

Reaching down Jordan fiddled with the taps and started to fill the tub and turn on the heater as well. Putting in some of the complimentary bath lotions to give the water a little scent but not enough to fill it with bubbles and perfume. 

Once the water was one the rise Jordan pulled down his underwear and threw them onto the rack by the wall to get them out of the way so that he could get into the pool without a worry. Leaning over, Parrish bent down, sticking his hand into the tub to test the temperature of the water as it filled up and that was how the Sheriff found him. 

Naked and reaching down Jordan’s ass was sticking out behind him, an enticing sight all for him to see. Making the mental note of it being the first time he gets to see the other’s body John approached him from the side his own boxer briefs still on.

“How’s the water?” 

“Almost there, just waiting on it to fill up -- “ Turning around to speak to the other Parrish immediately noticed the other’s state of dress. “I thought we were going to skinny dip it?” He asked, now feeling a little bit embarrassed about his own naked state. 

“We are, but you know how it is. It can get a bit cold, no one wants to be the smallest in the group.” John chuckled. Reaching down he took a light grasp of his crotch and showed off how deceptive the bulge was behind the underwear. 

After gaining his first two boys and putting his own body through his own wishes John’s wardrobe went through a small change. With more fitting clothes, more prouder clothes the older man took a step into a more bold sense of style. It was subtle but enough to anyone that would have watched him in any significant way. 

The cuts were a little bit tighter, the fit was a little bit better. Wishing your own body back to its peak of fitness had its perks now he'd be able to go toe to toe with the best of the young officers. Not to mention the wishes he had for his own sex.

One of which he was showing off to the Deputy. Of course the Sheriff was already proud of his size, but a little more never hurt but that wasn’t the only thing that changed. After all, now when he had three hungry boys that begged to be filled with cum almost every hour of the day a little bit of help in that department was only logical. 

But now he was even prouder of it knowing that all the power he could want was his. 

“Come on John. There’s no need to be shy about it. The guys in our unit would compare all the time. Surely you were the same.” Jordan asked looking down at the other’s bulge the question of how big the man was starting to wave in his mind. The mental shots of his boss's body , mainly of his cock, but his body just posing in front of him.  

“You get a different view as you get older, Parrish. Besides, compared to you young ones now I’m probably not worth the second glance.” John teased through self deprecating humour wanting to see how the Deputy responded. 

“That’s nonsense, you’re in good shape.” Jordan reached out pointing at the older man’s body, his eyes and fingers dancing down the man’s chest until they were gaining on his hips. “You’ve got good definition here.” His fingers brushed past the other’s ribs all so he could quickly move next. In a flash the Deputy reached down, grabbing at John’s underwear he pulled them away in a swift motion. Dropping to his knees Parrish released the Sheriff’s cock from its prison and exposed him in an instant. 

Down at the new height Jordan was at the perfect eye level to see all of the man’s crotch in its glory. Accidentally staring at it Jordan’s eyes looked at it almost as if he were studying it but in truth it was because he felt drawn to it. 

“Jordan?” John called out to him trying to see if he could get the other’s attention. Of course, he knew what was happening, but he still decided to be safe. This, just like everything else that had happened, had all been according to the man’s plans, his wishes. 

Distracting Jordan with his cock he knew that the seeds that he had been planting were all coming to fruition now.

A moment after John called out to him Jordan finally reacted, shaking his head getting himself out of his trance for a moment. “Sorry, just.. Never seen one like yours, and I saw a lot in the tents.” Parrish laughed it off, still unable to pull his eyes away. 

“It’s alrig--” 

“It’s just so big… so smooth….” The longer Jordan looked the deeper his fascination grew, forming until it started to become an obsession. “So perfect…. It even smells so.….” Pushing forward Jordan buried his face into the crook of the man’s crotch. His nose pushed up against the trimmed pubes until he was able to rub his face against it. Unable to pull himself away from the desire that was building up in him Jordan would have been blind sided if he had noticed it but instead the more he gave into it the more it would cement itself in his head. 

“Uh… Jor-” Before John could probe the other at what he was thinking the deputy was pulling away from his musk only to enable his next thought. 

Once his face had been freed from inhaling his boss’ musk he opened his eyes, his pupils blown with lust taking in the sight before him. “I wonder what it tastes like..” Before Jordan even had a chance to blink the Deputy was already closing in with an open mouth in tow taking the soft tip into his mouth. 

Seeing the younger’s changed self growing stronger John smirked reaching down he rubbed at Parrish’s scalp. Guiding him with a gentle touch as his soft cock started to take up Jordan’s mouth, slowly starting to react to the wet tongue that was lapping at his skin. “That’s it, taste Daddy’s cock, let Daddy feed you.” 

Looking up with eager eyes Jordan showed off the new sense of self he was getting. ‘Sheriff…John…Daddy… ‘ The names flowed through his head, each one of them making more sense than the rest until he was saying them out loud. “Dad…. Daddy..” Saying the name aloud was the final push it needed. Shining brightly in his eyes Jordan’s gaze fell on the coin as it took root. 

“That’s right. I’m Daddy, and you’re my boy, and you have some brothers waiting for us back at home. But you’ll meet them after this weekend. Right now. Daddy needs to take care of his new boy.” 

Brushing Jordan’s hair back he pushed the kneeling Deputy to the side and made his way to the tub that had now filled and was ready. 

“Let’s test out the pool.”

Jordan rose to his feet in a hurry and joined his Daddy in the tub. Sitting down beside him he looked at the man while the changes started to settle in his body, the heat of the tub making him relax even more against the heat. 

“Daddy?” Pressing his body against John’s side, Jordan got as close as he could like that. His hand pressed on the man’s chest. Starting its path down his abs towards the cock he gripped it firmly giving him some assured strokes. “Can I taste your cock again?” 

 “That depends, baby. Why don’t you come sit in Daddy’s lap and answer some questions first..” He leaned back to give Jordan the room to settle against him. Taking the opportunity Jordan slid his body over John’s lap and planted himself firmly against him. It was only a moment of adjusting before their bodies were slotted against each other, Jordan’s ass on top of the man’s cock feeling the shaft between his cheeks.

“I’m here Daddy.” Jordan said almost gleefully, taking his seat and smiling. His hands began to rub against John’s body, truly feeling him and getting to know his Daddy’s body. 

“You said that you’ve compared with the other officers in your troop, did you do any more than that?” Taking Jordan’s chin in his fingers John lifted it gently so that their eyes could share the gaze. Staring at each other as it deepened their bond.

“No Daddy, we only just compared our sizes. But sometimes we would prank each other, wake someone up with a cock slap to the face.” The memories made him chuckle, his hands not stopping as he squeezed along his chest. 

“So you’ve never experimented with other men before?” His voice pushed with a slight authority. 

“Not during my service… but I did jerk off one of my friends in school.”

“That's all?” 

“I didn’t really feel like it was for me.. But there’s just something about Daddy’s that draws me to it.” He admitted eyes looking earnestly back at the man. Wide and soft showing no hesitancy for it now.

Taking his hands lower, John began his own exploration of the other’s body. “That’s because Daddy is the best, and you know it, but I’m going to show you why today.” 

“Yes Daddy.” 

The hands traveled lower and lower, trailing down his abs and around to reach Jordan’s ass. Holding the cheeks in his hands John groped at them lightly enough to only ripple gently in the water. 

Gasping at the new sensation Jordan glanced over his shoulder. He had had his ass slapped and hit in jest before but John’s hands massaging him and playing with his ass was something new entirely. Moaning softly the Deputy arched his back and pushed his ass into the boss’ hands filling them up even more. 

Smoothly their dance continued, only punctuated by the sound of moving water and soft moans of pleasure. John’s eyes took in every tick and movement that he pulled from the Deputy. Each little bit as if he were playing him like an instrument. His fingers flexed and pushed along his backside, sneaking closer and closer to the virgin hole. 

Jordan’s hands following his own song down John’s body, over his abs and back again. With his ass seated over the man’s crotch he rocked slowly in place using his cheeks to give back the little that he could. He knew that it was working when he heard the Sheriff, his Daddy, moan. With his intuition proving to be correct the new boy started to ride back more intently. Scooping his hips downward making every moment of contact that he could. Soon enough he could feel his Daddy’s cock growing hard under him, spreading his cheeks wider. Each swing of his hips alternated the contact between John’s cock and his fingers sliding against his hole making his moans grow.

“Daddy…” Jordan warned with a slight wave in his voice. It wasn’t one of hesitancy but filled with pleasure and charged with lust. With just the little teasing that they had been doing in the tub Jordan felt as if it were shaking him from his head to his toes. 

“I know Baby Boy, but we haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.” Hitting Jordan’s ass, John started to push the other off of his lap giving himself the room to stand. Once he was freed he slipped backward and sat on the edge of the tub with his hard cock on display. Standing out and proud from the attention that it had been getting and the anticipation of claiming the new boy.

Kneeling with his lower half in the water Jordan was shocked at the man’s exposed cock. “It’s so big..” Needing to use both hands to cover a majority of the man’s cock he grew closer and closer to it with an open mouth ready to take him again. Jordan stuck his tongue out searching for the man’s taste past the water that was dripping off of them. 

Jordan’s tongue swiped back and forth taking him past his lips and down his throat all in the effort to taste him. The moment the taste started to emerge Jodan moaned loudly up at the man in disbelief that he waited so long to experience this. With the new taste filling his senses Jordan started to enthusiastically worship at his Daddy’s cock. 

Thinking about what he had liked done to his cock during a blowjob Jordan mimicked that and hoped that he was doing his Daddy proud. Soon light licks turned into steady swipes, gentle suckling turned into assured sucking. Jordan’s eyes were now shut, bobbing back and forth; he carefully took the man’s cock deeper and deeper until he met an unfamiliar resistance. 

There was something new hitting at the back of his throat, something that the Deputy had never felt there before and it wasn’t comfortable. But still determined to push through it, Jordan gagged and choked on the thick cock forcing himself to his limits, his mouth seeping down the length. 

A strong hand trailed down his back. Jordan’s body tingled, like pins and needles filling his skin, it made him shudder. 

“That’s it baby, just keep working Daddy’s cock.” John guided his hand further down the male’s body. Now that he had Jordan, why wait for more. His hand went further and further, leaning over John started to reach for Jordan’s ass. Pushing his prelicked fingers against the tight hole he started to tease it for what was to come.

A deep sound erupted from Jordan’s throat, muffled only by the cock in his mouth. He could feel the fingers against his virgin hole and it felt good. Mind blowing. Spurring Jordan on even further it felt like the jolts of having his ass played with revitalised him, more than giving him energy it made him long for more. Jordan pushed his legs further apart, spreading cheeks to let the fingers touch him more. 

With a grin John moved. Shuffling in closer to Jordan’s head he placed one hand behind the male’s head to hold him steady as he forced his cock deeper and leaned over the Deputies’ body to push his fingers against the rim.

“You like that, don’t you?” John’s fingers pushed deeper slowly, spreading Jordan’s hole open in a way that he had never tried before. Opening and closing his fingers against the tight muscle the Sheriff started to massage and work it open. 

Nodding along with his words Jordan’s focus started to waver. Dipping back and forth between his focus on the Daddy's tasty cock and the new feeling he got from Daddy’s fingers on his ass, Jordan started to lose track of what he was doing. 

Apparently becoming too lax for the older man Jordan’s sense came back to him when he felt the Sheriff start to fuck his mouth. The leaking cock slid back and forth with power. Spreading his throat, stretching his jaw down. John’s hold on his head meant that he had no place to escape but deeper, so he did it. 

Shoving his head into the harsh thrusts he could feel all of his muscles tightening. Gagging and sputtering with tears falling down his face Jordan gasped for air but also his body told him that his Daddy was more important. 

Surrounded by the sounds and smell of their sex John’s grunting signled the nearing ending of their first journey. Each of his thrusts splashed the water under them. Where John held Jordan’s head was at the perfect height for the waves to hit his face as well. Truly using the Deputy’s through like a toy John fucked and bashed past the other’s reflexes. 

“Take it boy.” John growled. His balls pulled up with a body filling shudder. Taking him over the edge John’s hot cum poured deep, filling him up with his very first batch of John’s charged load. Altered by his wishes John’s cum was strong, heavy, thick and most importantly there was a lot of it. Pulsing full of like John’s cock stayed hard as he threw his head back in ecstasy, there was nothing like claiming a new boy. 

Through his orgasm John groaned deeply. Rocking in place the older man had to use every last bit of his will to stop himself from filling up Jordan too much. Wanting to save the bulk of his load for later John gritted his teeth in concentration as managed to hold back from filling Jordan to the brim. 

Pulling away the older man freed his cock but more importantly Jordan’s throat. 

Sputtering and coughing for air the Deputy grasped at the side of the bath looking for his composure. With a white knuckle grip Jordan held himself up. He looked up at John with a messy face, spit and a little bit of cum splattered over his face. He smiled through his messy recovery, beaming with pride at the man. 

“Now it’s time for the next part.” John patted at Jordan’s ass, one of his hands rubbing the mess against his lips. “Would you like that baby?”

“Yes Daddy.” Jordan could put together the pieces to know what was coming next. He knew that even though he had never done it before it would be the best thing in his life. 

“Good, now let’s go to bed. Your first time should be special.” John smirked as each of the pieces started to line up and fall into place with ease. 

With a quick flash the two dried off, getting out of the tub to make the next stage come as quickly as possible.

Moving both to the bed Jordan laid on his back. Spreading his legs he lifted them up and exposed his hole to the man. He looked at him eagerly holding his legs up in place. 

“Don’t worry Jordan, it won’t hurt.” John approached his Deputy with a smirk. His cock still hard and ready to do the deed. 

“I trust you John, it’ll only feel good.” He answered happily, anxious only for the pleasure that he knew was going to come.

“Then let’s make you feel good.” Now John’s cock was pushing tentatively at his hole. Teasing him with only one thing in mind, claiming his prize. After giving Jordan a few test thrusts John could tell by how the hole gave in that the Deputy was ready.

Yelping out Jordan’s eyes opened wide as the thick cock pushed into his virgin hole penetrating him for the first time ever. “O… ooooooooo” 

Jordan’s cries were cries of blinding pleasure instead of pain. Spreading his pink hole like butter, one of John’s overarching wishes started to take effect. Taking away any of Jordan’s natural resistance to taking a big cock up his ass meant all that was left was bliss. But that wasn’t all. Like Daddy’s other boys Jordan’s body also started to go through more changes. His cheeks, already round, became cakey and thick growing until his they were like an extension of his hole giving more for the older man to fuck.

Gasp aloud Jordan eyes began to flutter. A floating feeling started to take over his body. Rocking back and forth he didn’t wait to feel the heavy cock hollowing out his insides. “Ooo.. Daddy… that feels so good…” 

By now John’s cock was pushing deeper with ease, Jordan’s rocking only helping him open the boy up faster. “That’s it boy, push back on Daddy’s cock, relax into it baby.” 

Filled to the brim with the man’s cock Jordan drooled, surrendering himself to the thick girth. Taking him over it introduced him to a brand new world that he had never even thought about and it rocked him to his core.

“Oh please Daddy, give me more of your cock.” Jordan whimpered out to the man as he begged to feel more than just the static size of his cock in him. His rocking stopped by the man’s hips acting as a barrier. 

After their little session in the tub John was all too ready to break in his new Deputy. His plan to single the male out and take him for his own was working a treat. From above John started to lean down, pushing Jordan’s legs back leaving them in a mating press. Taking Jordan’s legs in his own hands like reigns John started his trusts. 

Sliding his cock back and forth through Jordan’s newly sensitive hole John enjoyed the feeling of his cock taking the male’s hole and so did Jordan. 

With their position pushing the cock deep into his body his eye crossed and rolled back. Drooling and letting out cries of pleasure. Through those same unfocused eyes he could see the faint bump of the cock pushing up against his tightened body. Plunging deep into him with balls slapping against his ass the man’s cock rearranged his guts and forcefully made his space. 

Being able to heal any of the damage that his Daddy could do to his body didn’t mean that Jordan didn’t feel it. In fact, now, he felt it more. Every moment that the man was ruining his hole, thrusting deep in him and it felt right. His body was the cushion between the man and the bed taking all of the strength behind his thrusts going straight at his hole. 

“Cum for me.” John grunted.

At the man’s order Jordan’s eyes fell wide open, suddenly acutely aware of his rock hard cock Jordan felt the all too familiar feeling of his orgasm. Only this orgasm was different. Instead of feeling the pleasure on his cock from his hands all the pleasure he felt was all over and it all came from his ass. From his Daddy. 

Gripping tighter around the other’s cock and making his body feel even better Jordan screamed through his orgasm, calling out for his Daddy’s cock. “Ohh Dadddyyy!” His load shot between them, coating their bodies and flying around them as John didn’t stop. His thrusts didn’t let up, his fucking of his new boy went on and on. But as soon as his first was over the next came felt like it was flooding through him already. 

The onslaught on Jordan’s ass continued. A pro by now John was able to balance his power and speed while making sure he didn’t cum too early and for him that was anytime that he didn’t want to. 

Fucking Jordan through his first John quickly caused the second, then the third, then his forth. Each one rolling after the other without any breaks. His cock was milked each time until it was a constant stream.

Sweat and cum soaked into the bed around them. Splashing from their wet bodies the sweat accentuated the rhythmic slapping that had begun to speed up. “You like Daddy’s cock. But now it’s time to become one of Daddy’s boys.” Pounding down John smirked while Jordan smiled widely and dumbly as he felt his hole getting even better and better. Their thrusts all culminated finally in a harsh slam from the top. Forcing himself as deep as he could go, nestling his cock all the way to the root he growled loudly. His twitching cock began to fill up the other’s hole, spreading him deep and giving Jordan his first taste of being bred, completing his giving into Daddy’s boy. 

Spilling out the sides of his hole he was filled to the brim and beyond. Gasping through the ride of his life Jordan smiled widely and dumbly his body lay back in the afterglow of sex. Pulling his heavy cock out from the tight hole John leaned back. His cock was messy and covered in cum but it wasn’t anything compared to the aftermath on Jordan’s once virgin hole. 

Sticky and covered in thick cum the boy’s hole winked and gaped from how his Daddy had just used his hole. With cum leaking from his messy body Jordan lay there panting, his fingers snaked between his new cheeks to explore his new ass moaning at the lingering pleasure. 

“That’s it baby.” John said as he admired his own work. The wet noises squished from beneath him as each wink caused Jordan’s hole to heal more until it was trapping the man’s load inside him, rounding his stomach a little bit as if he had eaten a full meal. 

Knock. Knock.

Turning his head back to the door John patted at Jordan’s filled cheeks. “You go back to the bath and get cleaned up, we still have a lot more to teach you baby boy.” He smiled. Leaving Jordan to go back into the bathroom John went to answer the door. Grabbing a towel the Sheriff tied the small towel around his waist leaving his hard cock showing against the thick fabric while he opened the door.

“Yes?” 

“Congratulations Sir, this is the complimentary champagne that comes with our honeymoon suite.” The young staffer was fighting his eyes from looking down at the man’s obvious bulge. He thought if the towel had even been an inch away the other’s cock would be on show. 

“Thank you.” John could feel the eyes on him and even if he hadn’t he could see the other’s face betraying him. “Could I also get the sheets changed? We ended up making a bit of a mess.” The older man let out a chuckle moving his bulge with his free hand he pointed at the messy bed. 

“Certainly… uh.. Do you need anything else?” He asked stepping into the room and moving over to the press and taking out the clean sheets so that he could change them. 

“No that will be all, just let yourself out once you’re done.” John walked away from the man and into the bathroom that was opposite the bed. Dropping the towel to the floor on the way he carried the chilled champagne with him. “Come over here baby, Daddy’s cock is back.” 

That was the last thing the hotel worker heard before all he could hear was the cries of Jordan’s voice mixing with the unmistakable sounds of sex in the tub. Trying to focus on the task at hand the worker couldn’t escape the blush the entire time he worked.

When John heard the door close leaving them alone again he smirked down at the male, his hand reaching around and holding at Jordan’s rounding stomach. With each of his thrusts the man could feel the cum inside him.

“Please.. Oh Daddy… Breed me” Jordan cried out begging for more cum, a need in him wanting to be as full as possible with his Daddy’s seed.

“We’ve got all weekend baby.” The man smiled down at the other, his excitement for the rest of the trip beginning to rise even further ready for all the power he was about to feel.

[marauder-level-chaos]

I Can Barely Breathe

An Angsty as fuck fic for Fabian Prewett and Amethyst Black. Amethyst is my OC. She is Sirius’ twin and the only girl marauder. Her animagus is an arctic fox called Zerry. This is a war time fic where they are all 20. It is set a little after Gideon dies, toward the end of the war. Fabian breaks up with Meth because he doesn’t want her to hurt in case he dies too and he refuses to listen to any sort of reason. There is major heartbreak.

Warning: angst, sad, swearing, heartbreak, canon divergence, happy ending

A/N: first of all, I am so sorry. If you had formed any kind of attachment to Amethyst, you would hate me for this. Sorry? In my defense, my last fic was fluffy and I think that makes up for whatever I’m going to do now. I did get a little carried away so this is a little longer than my typical one-shots and well oops. Sirius does not go to Azkaban and Fabian does not die in this for the sake of my sanity.

***

Nobody likes a war or the destruction it brings. The Wizarding War against death eaters was taking the lives of many young witches and wizards. Just last week, the Order had lost a few of its members. Amethyst had lost her friends, and Fabian had lost his brother. It had been a tough few days for everyone. However, the war had not slowed down for any of them. The missions had not stopped despite the harsh circumstances. Amethyst sat at her desk at the Headquarters of the Order, finishing up her latest mission report. Her dark hair was tied in a messy bun. Once done, she filed it away and gathered all her belongings. The small watch on her wrist, a graduation gift from her wonderful boyfriend, told her it was a little before midnight.

“Hey, Marls?” Amethyst called, letting her hair free of its ties.

“Yes, luv?” Marlene Mckinnon had been a dear friend of Meth since they were both eleven. She had grown into a brave and beautiful young woman.

“I’m going to head home. If you need anything, let me know, alright?”

“I’ll be fine. Enjoy your night off.” Marlene then winked at her causing Amethyst to chuckle. She really admired Marlene for her ability to joke at a time like this. The two girls said their goodbyes and Amethyst left Marlene to finish her patrolling shift for the night.

Amethyst Apparated outside the apartment she shared with her boyfriend of the last four years, Fabian Prewett. She slid her key into the brown wooden door and pushed it open. She put all her stuff on the chair in the corner and tossed her jacket on the bed.

“Sweetheart?”

“I’m out here.” Fabian’s voice came from the balcony. Amethyst poured them some hot tea and joined her boyfriend outside. She put their glasses on the railing and slid her arm through Fabian’s.

“Couldn’t sleep?” She asked. Fabian shook his head. Amethyst slowly ran her hand through his hair and then kept her head on his shoulder. “Want to talk about it?”

Fabian let out a long sigh. “Meth, what are we doing?”

“We’re fighting a war is what we’re doing.”

“No, I mean, what are we doing?” Amethyst frowned slightly.

“What are you talking about? Is this about Gideon?”

“No. Actually, yes. That’s exactly what this is about.” Amethyst cupped her boyfriend’s face in her hands. Her grey eyes peered into his blue ones.

“Talk to me, sweetheart.” Fabian looked at her and let of a breath Amethyst hadn’t realized he was holding.

“It could’ve been me. I was there, on that mission. I could have been hit. I-I could have died.”

“But you didn't, Fab!”

“Not this time!” Fabian’s voice rose in volume. “I see the fear in your eyes when I don’t come back on time. I know how terrified you were when you heard about Gideon. I know how much it scares you that I could just not come back one day. I can’t keep doing that to you.”

“What...What are you saying?” Amethyst inquired, even though she already had an idea of what’s coming.

“You know what I’m saying, Meth. Don’t make me say it.” Amethyst dropped her hands from Fabian’s face and took a step back. 

“You’re breaking up with me.”

“Amethyst…”

“No! What do you think this will achieve, Fabian? You think breaking up with me will make me hate you? I loved you before we even got together. Why would that change now?”

“I am so sorry.” Fabian’s voice was heavy.

“Would you not care? If I...If I died tomorrow, would you not care anymore?”

“Of course, I would. You know I would.”

“Then why the fuck are my feelings any different?!” Amethyst yelled, tears now streaming down her face. Fabian could do nothing but look at her with an apologetic expression on his face. Meth then spoke again, her voice down to nothing but a broken whisper, “That’s how you want to do it then?”

“It’s the only way I know how.” Amethyst stepped closer to Fabian and put her hands on his shoulders.

“Kiss me,” She whispered, against his mouth. “If I do die tomorrow, I want that to be the last thing you did to me.”

Fabian snaked his arms around her waist and pulled her closer. He then leaned down and kissed her as though he never had before. Just for one second, Amethyst forgot what was going on.

“I love you, Fabian Prewett.” Meth whispered through her tears as they broke apart.

“I love you, too.” Amethyst shot him a small smile as she headed back inside, grabbed her jacket, and headed out the door.

Once she had walked out that door, however, Amethyst realised that she had no idea what to do next or where to go. The only place that came to mind was her brother’s, Sirius’, place. Sirius had been by her side her whole life. He had always sheltered her from their parents. So she closed her eyes and she Apparated.

As Amethyst stood outside their front door, she noticed the lights inside were off. However, despite her better judgement, she knocked on their door. She just didn’t want to be alone at the moment. After a few seconds, she saw the light switch on inside and heard footsteps coming toward the door.

“Who is it?” She heard a sleepy voice she recognized and Remus Lupin’s, Sirius’ long term boyfriend and one of Amethyst’s best friends.

“It’s Meth. Amethyst.”

There was a short pause before Remus continued, “What did you say when I first told you about liking your brother?”

“I said, ‘About damn time.’ And then I dog piled you.” Amethyst’s voice was heavy, laced with emotion. She heard the locks click and the door swung open. Remus looked at her tear-stained face and immediately pulled her into the apartment.

“Amethyst! What’s wrong?” He asked her as he sat her down on the sofa.

The dark-haired girl shook her head. “Can I just stay here for tonight?”

“Did Fabian do something? SIRIUS! GET IN HERE!”

It didn’t take too long for Amethyst’s twin brother to walk out of the bedroom he shared with Remus.

“Meth? What’s wrong?! It’s 1 AM.”

Amethyst told him about Fabian, tears streaming down her stormy grey eyes as her brother wrapped his arms around her.

***

It had been a few months since Fabian had broken up with Amethyst. It had gotten a little easier for her to run into him during the meetings of the Order. Not easy, no, but easier. She had moved in with her brother and Remus, both of whom were currently on a mission with Lily and James and a few other members of the order. That left Meth alone to babysit the Potters’ one-year-old son, Harry. She slowly lifted the baby from the bassinet Lily had dropped off and propped him up on her lap.

“It’s just you and me, kid.” Harry’s arms reached out to grab the glasses off her face. She laughed. “Can you say ‘Meth’, Harry? Hm?”

Baby Harry Potter looked at her with his big green eyes. Then, with all the power in his little body, he said, “Meh.”

“Close enough.”

“Please don’t teach my son how to say ‘Meth’.” Amethyst turned around and saw her redhead friend standing in the doorway. James, Remus and Sirius were with her too.

“You’re back early. How did the hunt go?” Meth asked, handing Harry to his mother.

“Still no news on Peter.” Remus prompted. Peter Pettigrew was a friend of theirs from Hogwarts. He had joined the Order with them but had been missing for quite some time.

“I hope he’s alright.” James said, clearly worried for their friend. Lily reached out and took her husband’s hand in her own, attempting to comfort him. Amethyst smiled at her friends, and the little boy with the bright eyes. She knew that whatever happens, she could always count on them to be there for her.

***

December, 1981

The war was over. Losing James and Lily was one of the hardest things Amethyst had ever dealt with. However, Sirius, Remus and and baby Harry Potter were always there for her. As she was for them. The last two months had been tough, but their life was slowly getting back to normal. Amethyst was at Hogsmeade, doing a grocery run for the house. She had picked up some chocolate for Harry (and Remus). Her last stop, of course, was Rosemerta’s.

“Hey, darling. Two fire whiskeys and a butterbeer, please.” She said to the woman behind the counter as she dug her pockets for galleons.

“Amethyst?” She heard a voice behind her. She turned around to a tall, ginger boy staring at her with his blue eyes.

“Fabian, uh, hi.”

“You...you look good.” He flashed her a smile, the kind that once made her heart flutter. Hell, it still did. She nodded and there was a silence between them. “Amethyst, I’m really sorry.”

“For what?”

“For what happened to James and Lily. And for what I did. I should have been there for you.”

“Fab, that was six months ago.” Amethyst turned to grab her drinks off of the counter, trying not to meet Fabian’s eye.

“I’ve fucking missed you, Meth. Everyday for the last six months. Letting you go was the stupidest decision I ever made.” He said, once they had left Rosmerta’s tavern.

“Fab…” Amethyst noticed he was standing a lot closer to her than he was a few moments ago. Suddenly, Amethyst was 15 again and all her feelings came rushing back to her. Before she had the chance to question her decision, she stood on her toes and kissed Fabian. She had almost forgotten how good that felt. His arms instinctively went to her waist and hers went around his neck. As they broke away, Amethyst buried her face into his neck while her hands still rested on his shoulders. They stayed like that, with his arms still around her hips, for a few moments until Fabian spoke again.

“Meth?”

“Hmm?”

“Would you like to grab a drink with me on Friday?” She looked at him and laughed. Genuine laughter, the kind she hadn’t felt in a very long time.

“I’d love to.”

Taglist: @addisonsintern @quickbright @beanieyogurt @just--another--bean @dreamerthinker @stevie-rin-hargreeves @tolkienlockian

[willymywonkers]

A Trip into the Factory

Summary: Maude gets invited into the factory for the first time in years. Chaos and fluff ensues.

A/N: This really is an excuse for me to try and write Wonka a little better. It's not too great I'll admit that, but I'm still getting used to writing him, lmaoooo.

It was a typical Tuesday afternoon for Maude, which mainly included grading assignments and checking over the kids work.

However, there was one thing different about this Tuesday. Charlie invited her over to the factory for dinner.

Usually she'd be happy to visit the Buckets, the only set back here was actually going into the factory.

Ever since Wonka and her reunited, things had been a little rocky. Maude was always busy with her students, and tried to creating some order in her schedule. Will was busy mentoring Charlie around the factory. There wasn't any time for them to really connect.

"Sure, I think she would thoroughly enjoy the factory, heh." Willy said, trying very hard to seem confident.

"And, when you're done, we can have dinner with my family." Charlie smiled with excitement.

"Yeah." Will gulped, slightly.

This was one of Willy Wonka's rare moments where he was uncertain. Usually, he knew exactly how people would react when entering the factory, but Maude was a different story. She helped sculpt every room when it was first built.

Willy had planned on asking Maude to move in with him before she got married. Being business partners was one thing, but being actually together was another. He knew from the start on why he didn't like her husband. Even during the wedding, Willy tried to be supportive of her. Hell, he even made especially for her a dozen chocolate roses. His feelings for her never really went away. He just wanted her to be happy.

After being isolated from the world for over 15 years, it really took a toll on how he interacted with others.

Meanwhile, Maude was dealing with her own worries. She looked at herself in the mirror, constantly overthinking.

She needed to leave in about 30 minutes, and that wasn't enough time either. Maude rummaged through her closet desperately searching for something to wear. Eventually, she found a brown dress that was casual enough to wear without looking completely overdressed.

She slipped on some heels and grabbed her coat before heading out the door. She was lucky the factory was walking distance from her house, but when the gates opened, she was extremely hesitant to go inside.

'Come on, Maude. Don't be pathetic.' She thought as her hand was just inches away from the door.

She bit her lip, tapping her gloved fist against the cold steel door.

Suddenly, there was a click and the door swung open. Maude stepped back, surprised a little at the sudden opening of the door.

Wonka stood just a little bit outside the door. He smiled, greeting Maude at the door.

"Heh, welcome, Maude." Will flashed a big smile at her.

She smiled back, taking off her coat. "It's quite warm in here, Will."

"Ah yes. It's because of my oompa loompas. They just can't stand the cold."

Maude tilted her head at Will. "Right, and what are oompa loompas again?"

Charlie had told her about these 'oompa loompas' but she wasn't entirely sure about what they are.

"Oh, well, they're my workers. They were directly imported from Loopmaland." Will explained as the two walked down the large hall.

"Loopmaland? I've never heard of that place before." Maude seemed to look even more confused.

"Well, I discovered it while I was searching the world of exotic candy." Will hummed.

Maude couldn't help, but be amazed at the amount of things Will had done throughout the years. Maude felt that she didn't really accomplish anything. After she left Ron, she mostly did boring adult stuff. When she worked in the factory, Maude felt unique and carefree. Will would listen to all her ideas for different kinds of mixtures. She remembered a time where she felt happy being in the factory, because it almost was a sanctuary to her.

The hallway began to get slimmer and slimmer. Soon enough Maude and Willy crouched down to get to the very small door at the end of the hallway.

"I don't remember the chocolate room being this small." Maude joked, trying not to hit her head on the suddenly short ceiling.

Willy shook his head. "It's not. Just watch."

Just as he turned the key, a whole world was opened up for Maude. Her eyes widened. Her lips parted at the view.

It was meadows of gorgeous green grass, and luscious chocolate river that flowed throughout the factory.

There was buttercups at her feet, and a jelly pumpkin on her right.

Maude felt overwhelmed with joy. "You did all this?" Her voice was below a whisper.

Willy smiled wide. "Yeah, I did."

Maude turned to Willy, smiling dreamily at him. "Wow.." Her body suddenly when limp, as she passed out in a sudden trance.

Willy panicked, catching her before she hit the ground. "Maude? Maude!!"

She snapped out of her trance. "Yes? Yes! I'm awake."

Will took a deep breath. "Heh, good. I was worried that I killed ya there."

Maude chuckled, blushing slightly by the way Wonka was holding her.

Wonka seemed to noticed it too. He cleared his throat. "Well, let's get a move on. There's lots of things I wanna show you."

He set Maude back down on her feet. She chuckled nervously, still amazed at the view.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of low drumming. A purple sea horse shaped boat pulled up right next to Willy and Maude.

"Hop on board!" Willy stepped onto the boat, with Maude following behind.

The Oompa Loompas seemed to be chattering amongst themselves and chuckling.

"What are they laughing about?" Maude chuckled.

He laughed nervously. "Surely, it's from all those doggone coca beans. They're a bit of a handful."

Maude smiled. "They seem quite lovely. I think I got a report from Charlie, talking about living with the Oompa Loompas. It was incredibly-"

"Weird?" Willy interrupted.

"Yeah, but, a good kind of weird." Maude chuckled. "You're a great mentor."

Willy's smile faltered slightly. "Well, I have to get him prepared to run this factory. There's not a lot of people I could trust to hold the secret recipes, and keep them secret."

"Right."

"I guess the only other person would be you."

Maude's expression shifted from happiness to a bit of sadness. She attempted to smile. "Thank you, Will."

She stared blankly for a few seconds. She began to remember Ron's horrid yelling.

"You'll always be in his shadow, Maude. Don't you want your own factory? He stole most of your ideas, Maude. A few of his would be nothing."

Maude would always refuse to steal from Will. Ron would call her a coward. Still, this torment would go on for hours, until she resigned.

The boat began to diverge into a dark tunnel. Maude's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the Oompa Loompas drumming as it began to get faster and faster.

"Can they see where they're going?" Maude said, as she turned to Willy.

"Hehe, no." Will chuckled. "There's no telling where they're going."

Maude's face turned pale as she held on to the side of the boat.

The boat suddenly took sharp dive right into the tunnel. The boat looped and turned as chocolate splashed its sides. Maude suddenly had her arms around Wonka's, holding onto dear life. Will looked over at her a little surprised. In most situations, Will despised human contact. Here, he was just amused. Even when he was a little boy, he hates when adults touched his hair, or even when they lightly tapped his shoulder. However, he was very loose when it came to Maude. She didn't appreciate close contact either, but in very few moments, Maude would casually touch his hand accidentally. She would always say sorry, but it was strange because Will didn't mind it. It was an odd connection between the two. They really just couldn't explain it.

Maude was still holding onto Will as the boat came to a stop. She sighed in relief, but quickly let go of Will.

"Sorry." Maude muttered.

Will gulped. "No matter. Let's continue."

The boat had stopped in front of the experimentation room, a place where Maude was quite familiar with.

"The experiments room. I'm pretty sure you know this one, heh." Will said, hoping off the boat.

Maude looked around, admiring the enormous amounts of lab equipment, as well as different kinds of experiments. "Oh, wow. It's gotten quite modernized."

"You're darn right. I've testing out a ton of new candy, but sometimes it's so hard to focus on one." Willy turned towards a big machine. He turned it on and out came a single stick of gum.

"This piece, right here, is a full 3 course dinner all in itself."

Maude picked up the stick of gum, and simply looked at it.

"I wouldn't eat it. There's still a few things wrong with the mixture."

"I see, and what seems to be wrong with it." Maude carefully set the stick back down.

"Well, it's ok, once it gets to the end. It's the blueberry pie that does it. I've tried it on like 20 Oompa Loompas, and each one ended up like a giant blueberry."

"Do you think it's because you made the mixture of the pie too strong?" Maude examined the sample closely, just before sticking it in her mouth.

"Yeah, well." Will's eyes widened as she stuck the gum in her mouth. "Just spit it out once it gets too sweet."

The flavors were very incredible, however it didn't mask the faint blueberry aftertaste that plagued each flavor. Once it got a but too sweet, she immediately spat it out.

Will looked at her with a bit of disgust. He kept a bit of a distance from her. After a few moments, nothing happened.

"I think I know the problem. The blueberry pie mixture is too strong. It masks all the other flavors with a sweet aftertaste." Maude put the gum in the nearest trash can. "If you eliminate that strong aftertaste, then I believe the gum should be just fine."

Willy's expression turned from disgust to ecstatic in a matter of seconds. He grabbed Maude by the hand, and shook it vigorously. "Maude, you're a genius. Absolutely incredible. I don't get why I didn't think of that sooner."

Maude smiled slightly. "This is just like old times. Remember when we were experimenting with those fizzy lifting bubbles? We flew so high. We almost lost our heads."

"Yeah, haha. I remember." Will nodded, still holding onto Maude's hand.

"I remember Ron being so worried." Maude laughed.

Willy's smile soon faded. "Yeah, him."

Hearing that name again really made Will's blood boil. He had an idea what was happening with Maude and Ron. Will had really hoped Maude would choose candy making over Ron, because that's what made her happy.

His gloved hand had a tight hold on Maude's. "It's really weird, heh."

"What is?" Maude asked.

"Being here with you. I just would've figured you'd always be with me, making candy in the factory."

"Well, I'm here right now."

"That's not what I mean."

Maude tilted her head up at him, a little confused. They looking into each other's eyes for a moment. His gorgeous purple eyes burrow deep into her dark chocolate ones.

He leaned in, giving Maude a tiny peck on the lips. It was quick and painless. Still, it made Maude go red as a cherry.

Willy giggled, wiping the tiny kiss off his lips.

"W-wow.." Maude muttered. "That was unexpected." She blinked for a few moments, promptly pinching herself, before even realizing what had happened.

"Heh, I've always wanted to try that." Will said, smiling wide. "Kissing is so weird."

"But it's a good kind of weird." Maude chuckled, as she pulled Will into another kiss.

This was so much better than she could've imagined.

[morning-starcrossed]

This is honestly just super self indulgent full fae au Erika shenanigans with Lucifer, because I hyper focused on an au for my favorite OC. Basic idea here is that Erika is actually far instead of just half fae, her mother is still alive, she still sorta dies and is brought back. Alaric still has is war, but instead of winning the throne of the Unseelie for himself, Erika kills him and the Unseelie king, and takes the throne for herself. I haven’t figured out time line stuff really for it yet, but Erika would be a young ruler in Lucifer’s eyes for a good minute probably because he’s so fucking old. A lot of the stuff for Lucifer is just canon divergently my own thing (maybe a head canon or two borrowed from friends but mostly mine). But id’s be hard pressed to call it totally canon here.

Anyway disclaimers and author notes aside, here is the thing I hope y'all like it. It was fun to write honestly.

Erika swirled her wine as she sat upon her throne. Court had just concluded, and she hadn’t quite moved as she watched the nobles leave. The young Queen had quite a few things on her mind, chief among them was perhaps the current ambassador from the Devildom. The man drove the Queen up walls with his very presence, and his actions toward her were barely tolerable at best. Certainly, one troublesome demon was less of a problem for her to deal with, but she’d appreciate if a being from outside her Court didn’t try to tell her how to run the Unseelie. This was her court, and her people, and she’d be damned if some pompous Pride demon told her how to run her own realm. “Eri?” Erika glanced up, crimson eyes meeting her sister’s deep green ones, and a soft sigh fell from her lips. “Yes?” She asked softly, taking a sip of her wine as she stood. “If it’s the ambassador from the Devildom, I will deal with him tomorrow.” The Monarch sighed, running a hand though her curly hair, currently seeming to be cut with an undercut and chin length layered top. It was days like these, where Erika looked far more masculine that the gentry had taken to calling her their Monarch rather then their Queen. She hardly wanted to be called King, and yet Queen hardly fit her in their opinion, this was their as well as her happy medium. “Its actually Lord Lucifer.” Erika’s cool red hues looked almost inquisitively at her sister, nonverbally cuing the other to elaborate. The Sin of Pride? Unannounced in her realm? That was rare. Lucifer if nothing else seemed to like to make a prideful show of himself and his power, but maybe that was the point. The young ruler wasn’t expecting him at all, and perhaps that was the point the demon was trying to make in this moment. “Where is he?” Erika asked tired, wondering if she needed to bother shifting her hair at all. Most of her appearances with the any of the Seven Lords of Hell, she was very much feminine presenting (sometimes to her own dysphoria) in an effort to make things simple for the demons.After all, she had perhaps a few human over the years that had been caught off guard by the fluidity of her gender presentation. Whose was to say that demons wouldn’t have the same issue. Certainly, the gentry knew better by now, but demons weren’t her subjects. They were allies, ones the Unseelie had had for millennia, and Erika hardly planned to be the monarch to ruin such a deeply beneficial partnership. “The music room.” Adeline snorted as her sister rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over a slightly broader and flatter chest, shaking her almost boyish curls before downing the rest of her wine. “What’s the worry, Erika? You don’t think he’d-” “Do I think Pride himself would help himself to any instrument? Yes, but also seeing as a Pride demon is my current ambassador, his underlings aren’t exactly helping his image either.” She spat, almost venomously. With a flourish, Erika snagged the dress coat she had dawned this morning, slipping it on as she strode to the door, each foot fall echo off the walls as the young Queen strode with such pride and confidence to almost rival Lucifer’s own. ________

The Sin of Pride sat at the piano, gloved hands carefully dancing across the keys each part of the concerto seeming to flow effortlessly from the demon as he played. That was until he heard the door open, ears twitching slightly as he brought the piece to an end. Turning on the bench, he watched with thinly veiled amusement as the young Queen he was here to see entered, her own pride a heedy wine that the Sin could hardly get enough of. She was always a prideful little thing, he knew, but even so it was different seeing her, even as she was now, as compared to just hearing about her. “Your Majesty.” Lucifer greeted her with a slight bow as he stood. “What do you want, Lord Pride?” “To the point as usual, I see.” The Sin chuckled, a soft smirk settling upon his lips. The Queen of the Unseelie was always something of a surprising being. It would be a lie to say that Lucifer didn’t find her company entertaining on the rare occasion he actually was privileged to it. “I had a long day at Court, surely someone like you would understand that.” The Queen offered after a moment, a tired sigh escaping her as she raked her hand through soft curls. “And your ambassador has been less than pleasant these last few months. Its alot to think about.” Crimson eyes met scarlet for a moment, and there was a silent understanding between the two beings for a moment. “Understood. How would you feel about telling me about what the ambassador has done these past months over some wine, hmmm?” Erika flashed the Sin of Pride a mischievous smile at the proposition. Lucifer was hardly a being to pass up wine, nor was Erika really, and at least it was Lucifer dealing with this, and not someone else. The queen was sure she could handle this at least. Lucifer was sensible after all. “I suppose I could. Could we take this discussion to the gardens perhaps?” Lucifer returned her smile. “Certainly, Your Majesty.”

[coleisunderrated]

Season 11: The Destruction of Zane Julien

You read that right. Season 11 ended up doing nothing more but destroy everything about Zane that made him who he was and was one big middle finger to all the character development and hardships he went through. Follow the cut for why and my biggest rant yet and the bane of my time in this fandom

Making one of the ninja evil was kind of a given seeing how much the fandom wanted it. I wouldn’t have had a problem with it either but the writers decided to ‘play it safe’ by using Zane simply because he’s a robot who can just be reprogrammed. It really dehumanized him, especially after he struggled time and again to be just as human as the rest of the ninja. I know Ninjago’s writing has never been stellar but there was a whole bunch of problems with Zane being the Ice Emperor. What was the point in making him evil if he had no real reason other than a shoehorned case of amnesia? which was the laziest way to go And why would they do it if they won’t go into the undoubtedly traumatic effects it will have on him or even the changes that could’ve happened within the team?

And worst of all, all the damage from that lazy and bad writing has been done. Season 11 ended up completely destroying his character.

Before season 11, Zane was the sweetest person of Ninjago. He grew and learned about himself and the world just like any other human. He was always the odd one out but soon earned his place in the team. He had a very sweet and loving relationship with his father and even if it’s been retconned, he was also accepting of his brother Echo. He found his true potential by embracing who he was and knowing the love he had for his friends. He even sacrificed his own life to stop the Overlord, dying as a true hero. He was a true protector and went through way more than any ninja did (besides Lloyd) to save Ninjago time and again. Even if he was a robot, he was, in a way, more human than many other characters in Ninjago. His story has been told and the only way to add more was to explore more of his past such as his encounter with the previous Master of Ice or his life between his father’s first death and meeting Sensei Wu. But all of that, all the character development and growth he had, and all the suffering he endured to uphold his duty, has been rendered meaningless and thrown down the drain the moment Zane was revealed to be the irredeemable and monstrous Ice Emperor.

Zane was made to protect those who can’t protect themselves. As the Ice Emperor, he did the exact opposite by ruling not just a city like Garmadon did but an entire realm with an iron fist. He also killed countless innocent beings. He committed genocide on Krag’s species and most likely many others who weren’t lucky to have any lone survivors. The formlings and the villagers being frozen wasn’t treated as such because ‘oh hey they’re still alive, they just can’t do anything’ but it was really no better than if he actually killed them. For the formlings, their culture, way of life, and knowledge of shapeshifting, had been wiped out for countless years. He killed so many people and living things, brought so much suffering to a whole realm, and committed countless atrocities that are absolutely unforgivable. Nothing could ever make up for what he did. He jumped beyond the moral event horizon further than any villain in Ninjago ever did and yes, that includes Harumi.

Much of the fandom and even canon put all the blame on Vex and while he can be considered the true villain of the Ice Chapter and him manipulating Zane to do his dirty work for him made him all the more vile, what is often overlooked is that Zane still did these terrible things out of his own will. The scroll corrupted him but didn’t erase his will and tyrant or not, he could still disagree with Vex, make his own decisions, and even did things Vex had no say in such as imprisoning Lloyd.

And then the writers only made it even worse with the way they ended it.

When Boreal was defeated, the other ninja finally realized the Ice Emperor is Zane yeah Ninjago has never been good with subtlety I’m actually disgusted that they, especially Cole, took him back. They knew he was a genocidal tyrant who caused decades of suffering to the whole Never Realm yet they don’t have to do any fighting and let Lloyd take all the credit and welcome him back to the team like all that never happened. They all took a backseat throughout the whole Ice Chapter so Lloyd to get all the spotlight and do everything himself yet again (which is a whole other issue in of itself). And once they meet up with Zane, all of his crimes and atrocities they know he did are forgotten just because he’s their friend and the protagonist who should always be treated as a hero no matter what he does. And Krag doesn’t even seem to be scared or angry when he sees Zane, who killed his kind. And then he gets to be with the ninja for a bit before they go home while the denizens of the Never Realm don’t seem to react at all to his presence. Even if he never really showed his face up to this point, the ninja and Vex would’ve surely said something but no, he's not an evil dictator anymore and was a good guy all along so he won’t have to face any repercussions or fess up to all the horrible crimes he committed. Then again, what’s the point if nothing could ever redeem him after all that?

And the message at the beginning of the Ice Chapter has also ended up being irrelevant. It strongly implied that not only is Zane no longer the good-natured nindroid we all know and love but that there will also be no going back. The only way it could’ve had any impact at all was if Zane was actually going to be gone for good. The possibility of it being the key to restore Zane’s memories also a waste of potential. Speaking of which, it was unrealistic and a blatant deus ex machina that Vex only had to say ‘protect’ and boom! Zane’s memories are back and he returns in a flash and everything is all good and normal again. He didn’t have to struggle one bit to recover his memories. Regaining memories is not that simple and Zane didn’t even acknowledge all the harm he caused nor does he really do anything to Vex other than freezing him for a bit. At this point, he has devolved into nothing more than the unsympathetic and unforgivable karma houdini he now is.

All this makes me think of a Twitter post I saw earlier of how ‘we were not ready for the ending’. With Nya learning to control ice at one point, the writers seemed like were seriously going to kill off Zane or write him off permanently and replace him with Nya. What could’ve also happened is somehow, if Zane survived, the First Spinjitzu Master’s spirit may sense what Zane did and would be so disgusted by his actions he takes away his elemental powers and pass them on to Nya or Zane himself does so. With Zane powerless and traumatized, he ends up leaving the team for good. He certainly won’t be able to stay in the Never Realm either given all the harm he caused and everyone there would most likely want him dead. If he didn’t die, he either shuts down permanently or leaves for some completely different realm and never comes back. I remember when the whole fandom was scared something like that would happen but looking back now, those would’ve been way better than that awful finale we got. Killing off Zane for good or him leaving permanently would’ve been a very huge move and Ninjago is no stranger to this stuff but that leads to another problem. The problem isn’t whether or not the writers will make any big moves, it’s that they often end up doing a bad job at it.

And the finale. Goddamn the finale.

The finale only made Zane look even more unsympathetic and undeserving of the happy ending or anything resembling it. You can forgive the monster who killed and harmed countless innocent people and caused a devastating eternal winter to a whole realm simply because they happen to be your corrupted friend who doesn’t remember you but they’re memories came back in a snap and you can fix them in an instant with the Power of Friendship(TM)! That is complete and utter bullshit! And it completely destroyed his place in the team. He can’t be seen as a ninja or a good guy anymore and the ninja know they’re siding with a murderer and tyrant who’ll never have to face any consequences for all the terrible things he did and will most likely never address all the trauma he’ll now have. And while I may not ship Pixane, can you imagine how devastating it would be for Pixal to know what Zane did? If the Pixane episode doesn’t address any Ice Emperor stuff or her trying to help him, it’s gonna feel very... off. Honestly, Zane’s relationship with the ninja and even Pixal is now very toxic.

And no, Zane apologizing or the ninja helping him being 'behind the scenes’ just won’t cut it. We can only get so much from what actually happens in the show. Even if it appeared in the show he’s done way too many things that are too terrible to deserve even an ounce of sympathy.

Gonna diverge a bit here but am I the only one who thought Vex also got off way too easy?

Anyway, with all said and done, Zane now feels completely out of place in Ninjago. The writers most likely had a different ending in mind that would result in Zane being gone for good but they changed it at the last minute and as a result, it doesn’t feel right with him there. It no longer feels like he’s part of the team and while the ninja still serve their purpose and have more of their story to tell, Zane doesn’t seem to fit in anymore and is... just there. The Ice Chapter completely threw away all the development he had and made his story a total waste. I’m also starting to fear this will affect Pixal, who (as far as the writers are concerned) is most relevant as a love interest, not a samurai or even her own character.

The only way the writers could salvage Zane’s character at all is to consider this season nonexistent and they’re doing a pretty damn good job at that and that isn’t really a good thing. As for the next season, I’m feeling ‘meh’ about it and while Cole seems to finally get some attention after that, I have some bad feelings about what’s gonna happen. Besides all that, Zane’s presence and status as a good guy now feels unearned and forced. And if he goes into any ‘protecting others’ spiel, what was once a core element of his character has become hollow and now makes him a massive hypocrite. That’s how bad this season ended up being for Zane, his story, and everything that made him who he was.

All in all, congratulations Ninjago writers. You took one of your most beloved and well-developed characters who deserved the world and completely ruined him beyond repair. I can’t wait to find out who will be the next character you’ll destroy.

[fragilevixenfic]

After Scully calls Mulder in the ep Emily, she asks him to bring her some things from home. Her journal falls to the floor and Mulder sees some things written about him that she has never allowed him to know.

Alright, ma’am...I have had far too long to stew in this...I really don’t know how this panned out but here it goes.

----

Title: Brick

Category: During “Emily”/Angst/Mulder’s POV/Minor Canon-Divergence/URT

Prompt: After Scully calls Mulder in the ep Emily, she asks him to bring her some things from home. Her journal falls to the floor and Mulder sees some things written about him that she has never allowed him to know.

Summary: His eyes focused, not wanting to read but it burned through him as the words illuminated and etched into his consciousness with a vividness. “…of the fear that you would have to watch me wither away, leaving nothing more than ashes behind and the memory of what I once was…”

  Six a.m. day after Christmas

I throw some clothes on in the dark

The smell of cold

Car seat is freezing

The world is sleeping

I am numb

-Benjamin Folds/Darren Jesse

  December 30th, 1997

11:00 PM

Washington DC

                 “Will you get a few things and be here on the next flight? I know it’s a lot to ask…”

              The words echoed in Mulder’s head as he pulled along the sidewalk to Scully’s apartment complex, scraping the rims along the concrete in the process. He muttered a few choice cuss words as he threw the shift into park and turned the engine off, sitting in the chilly cabin of the Ford sedan. He would never have refused her and the lack of hesitation in his sleepy voice as he cradled the phone close to his ear spoke volumes. It was anything but that as he nearly ate ice ascending the stairs while he plunged his hand into his pocket to get her spare key, rattling it across the tender skin of his palm until he could feel his teeth chatter in the nip of the night air.

              “Anything.”

              Anything for her. It had been like that since her cancer went into remission, even if everything had been largely unspoken for far too long.

              “Pilfering through Scully’s drawers in the dark has me uncomfortable and I haven’t even started yet,” Mulder was having that conversation with himself as he heard the click of the deadbolt release, allowing him inside of her oddly welcoming space. “Frohike just got the chills somewhere…Spidey sense on full alert.”

              Focus, you’re running out of precious time.

              Mulder swallowed and inhaled a breath as he snatched the leather overnight bag from the edge of the dresser, checking off each item in his mind as he pulled a drawer open. It was clinical, much like Scully would approach gathering up his stuff, he imagined, as he reached for each requested piece of clothing. He went to the nightstand and deposited a collection of notes into the bag followed by a compact manicure kit that he knew she had mentioned. As he turned with the bag, the bottom notches snagged a softbound journal partially concealed beneath the alarm clock came tumbling down onto the floor, flipping open to a set of well worn, written pages.

              “Dammit,” Mulder knelt, gathering the faded edge between his fingers as he dragged it toward his lap, the spine along his index as the pages fluttered and caught light.

              His eyes focused, not wanting to read but it burned through him as the words illuminated and etched into his consciousness with a vividness. “…of the fear that you would have to watch me wither away, leaving nothing more than ashes behind and the memory of what I once was…” Mulder knew in the pit of his stomach that it was so invasive of him to delve into her private thoughts but the tattered edges of his heartfelt a tug as the waves crashed into the shore. He glanced at the clock, noted the slipping away of precious seconds before his red-eye would take off but curiosity was burning as he couldn’t help but see his name scrawled along the same section, muddled by little splotches.

              Kissed by tears.

              ‘I’ve reflected, long and countlessly, on a moment of emptiness as it expanded while I stood at the ledge of life and death; ready to let go. I counted minutes with preciousness in spite of holding a certain amount of deniability in it. Denial of fate, denial of need, denial of hope…but there you were, Mulder, with your hand extended like you knew exactly when I was ready to break to release necessary chaos into the air all over again.

              Fight.

              Push.

              Try.

              Even as tears fall, there will come a day that you’ll know the truth of it. I was not afraid of staring at death as he waited in the doorway. I feared so much more than that. It was the reality of the fear that you would have to watch me wither away, leaving nothing more than ashes behind and the memory of what I once was. The shell of a woman who couldn’t carry on a piece of herself—a woman who had made the choice of exactly whom she’d want to leave a legacy behind with. One day…one day you’ll know.’

              “Oh…fuck,” Mulder had his own emotional epiphany as he wiped the tears from his cheeks, reluctantly pulling his focus away from the journal as he snapped it closed and stood. “I wasn’t ready for all of that…”

              Mulder had already come close, as one could get, to losing his best friend and the buried deep truths that he kept well-guarded within his own, half shattered soul was feeling the reverberations of her written secrets. He held the journal to his chest and closed his eyes, letting the gravity of what he wasn’t supposed to know seep into his bones, plucking the strings loose as he watched another minute tick away. His shoulders sank as he wanted nothing more than to feel her heart beating against his own as the sting of emptiness surrounded him all over again, reminding him of that self-inflicted fate. They’d bestowed it on each other. If Scully had only known that her hidden epitaph was dangerously near a mutual thought, one that had been rolling at the tip of Mulder’s tongue for a long time. His eidetic memory betrayed him again as the words flashed into his consciousness, throttling his psyche as he pictured every note again—almost to the point of being able to see her curled up on her bed, tears falling with every move of her pen.

              As though he were praying for it—the phone in his pocket began to chime, the tones returning his attention to the task at hand as he pulled it free, answering immediately. “Mulder?”

              “Did you find everything okay?” Scully’s voice crushed and elated him in the same breath as he slid the journal into the bag and zipped it up, wiping the last of his stray tears in the process.

              “Yeah, was just getting ready to lock up,” Mulder’s voice involuntarily cracked as he went for the door, the weight of her confessional unbelievably heavy as he held her bag on his shoulder.

              “What time does your flight leave?” Scully could hear the change in his voice but her own, melancholic tone was bleeding through as she sighed into his ear. “You okay?”

              “I’m good, I’m good…I have just enough time to get there and take off,” Mulder locked the door, felt that ache in his body as he shook away heartache for another moment, knowing what lay ahead of him. “I’ll be there soon.”

Tagging @peacenik0 @kyouryokusenshi @poolsidescientist @postmodernpromartheus @baronessblixen @fistful-of-fandom @kikocrystalball @allthingsxfiles @suitablyaggrieved @suilven19 @rationalcashew @admiralty-xfd @gaycrouton

[bathtubdefenseattorney]

Tracks

Mikannie fic, 1400 words

tw: self harm, cutting

Ao3

It felt unholy, profane, as if Mikasa had barged in on a sacred ritual, a sacrifice of pale skin to the lean razorblade’s edge.

It felt unholy, profane, as if Mikasa had barged in on a sacred ritual, a sacrifice of pale skin to the lean razorblade’s edge. When Mikasa walked into the suite bathrooms, Hitch’s roommate wasn’t fast enough to hide her bloodied forearm under her hoodie sleeve. Annie’s hurt was manifested everywhere: the crimson seeping through the light grey fabric, the pink saturation of water and blood in the sink, the burning tears in her eyes, the heaving of her chest, and the words she didn’t say as she turned her face away. Unwillingly, Mikasa read every connotation of pain and shame before her. The intimacy of being privy to the agony of a stranger—watching it leak in dark, evil droplets onto the tile—overwhelmed anything Mikasa could think to say.

Until, finally, making her voice soft: “Annie. Your name’s Annie, right?”

The suitemate in question was stock still, but the razor slipped from her fingers, and a flash of bloodied metal skittered to Mikasa’s feet. Mikasa fought against looking at it, swallowing the urge by asking another question instead.

“Are you okay, Annie?”

An incredibly inane, stupid question, but one that Annie obviously had not been asked soon enough. Mikasa felt a pull in her chest, a deep instinct to foster the girl slashing at her arms in the night.

Sullen, Annie’s arms gently wrapped around herself. Her big blue eyes were shining and tired, slipping from the razor to Mikasa in an effort to extricate her mind from the reality of the situation. Then she cupped both palms over her mouth and grimaced with her eyes closed before saying, in a deadened voice, “Just…please don’t tell anyone. Please.”

“Okay. But there are some things you’ll have to tell me. In exchange.”

Mikasa bent to pick up the razor and held it at arm’s length from herself. Razors were nasty instruments, even when girls didn’t crack them out of their plastic containers.

Too many girls, Mikasa thought. Too many girls causing themselves a worse pain.

She carried the cursed thing to the trash bin. If she could never see one again…

“I have towels in my room,” she said.

Annie hadn’t moved except to shake her head. “What did you mean?”

“You’re ruining your hoodie.”

Two sets of eyes went to the grey sleeve so quickly being overwhelmed by the growing red stain.

“What did you mean?” Annie said. “About me telling you things in exchange?”

Mikasa made an impatient noise and grabbed Annie’s uninjured arm. “I meant you have to tell me why you did this. Come on.”

As she led her to her room, Mikasa heard Annie’s sniffling. It only strengthened Mikasa’s resolve to get to the bottom of this. She’d shared a gen ed, first semester, with Annie, and had pegged her as a girl who kept her feelings under the table. Like herself.

There may have been the slightest tremor in her hand when she took out her keys and fitted one into her dorm lock.

Mikasa’s room was a modest one, the only single-person dorm in the suite. She’d at last been moved here after a disastrous first semester with a roommate who’d twice set the suite on fire with her late-night, drunken cooking sessions. There were no posters here. No colorful bedspreads. No photos, save for one of her parents, tacked to the board above her desk. She’d have to add more; the image of her parents floated in the space alone, abandoned.

“Sit,” Mikasa said.

Annie stared at Mikasa’s perfectly madeup grey bedspread and backed up a pace.

“No,” Annie said. “I don’t wanna get your bed…dirty.” She looked at her soaked sleeve.

Mikasa shook her head. “Don’t be silly. It’s dark grey. I need to wrap up your arm somewhere, and I’m not doing it on the floor.”

Meekly, Annie sat on the bed and tilted her head to the ceiling. Mikasa supposed Annie was looking up there to find a way out, but as Mikasa knew, looking for God or whoever else would only find you ceiling tiles. When Mikasa gently touched Annie’s left wrist, Annie jolted.

“Sorry. Did that hurt?”

“No. No,” Annie said.

“May I?”

Annie’s eyes went down to her injured arm and darted back to Mikasa’s face. “Okay.”

Mikasa rolled up Annie’s sleeve with the care and precision of a nurse. The blood was smeared and oozing just slightly out of four generous cuts in the pale white flesh.

Mikasa inhaled. “These look deep.”

“Not really. They’re just practice.”

“For what?”

“Nothing. Forget it.”

“For deeper cuts?” Mikasa searched Annie’s arm. There were other, half-healed wounds. Maybe not quite as deep, but serious scratches like an angry cat could claw out.

Annie spoke. “I mean I can quit this before it gets serious. I just started a few weeks ago.”

“You’ll quit now.”

“Or you’ll tell on me?”

“Or you’ll cut too deep one day.” Mikasa began to wrap Annie’s arm in a towel. They’d rinse the cuts, clean them, later, when the bleeding was all done.

Annie grumbled something, reminding Mikasa why she’d gotten Annie alone.

“You need to tell me what’s making you hurt yourself.”

Annie’s eyelids lowered, and a stormy expression overtook her face. “It’s not so interesting.”

“Try me.”

Annie lowered her head. “Okay, so…You know my roommate?”

“Yes. Hitch Dreyse.” Mikasa tried to keep the distaste out of her voice.

Blue eyes locked on Mikasa’s. “Exactly. Her.”

“She did something,” Mikasa prodded.

“We both did. We…dated. First semester.”

“Oh.”

“We’re totally, like, done now. But she goes out all night and sleeps with guys. Sometimes she brings the guy over to her…bed.” Annie took a pained breath and touched her hand to the towel. “Maybe to spite me. Or maybe she just doesn’t care.”

Mikasa nodded. She’d seen more than one guy exiting Annie and Hitch’s room. How could Annie stand that? It was one thing to lose a lover, another entirely for that lover to lash out after.

“I need you to hear something and hear it really clearly, Annie.”

Annie turned to Mikasa expectantly.

“Okay,” Mikasa said with a sigh. “But what a BITCH.”

Annie balked, then covered her mouth, wide-eyed. Mikasa was about to apologize when she heard a tiny squeak: Annie’s laughter, the cutest sound, even more rewarding now that Mikasa had pulled it from such a dark place.

“I’m serious,” Mikasa said, but she was already laughing along with her. Their laughter filled the space between them, healing more than mere words could. When they were left with only silence, side by side with a towel soaking blood from Annie’s wounds, Annie remembered herself and squirmed.

“You won’t tell anyone, right? That I was dating her or…”

“It’s going in the vault,” Mikasa said, tapping her temple.

Annie offered the slightest smile. “Okay.”

“Now go get your things from your room.”

“What?”

“You’re my new roommate.”

The gears turned behind Annie’s eyes. “There’s only one bed!”

“Good. I can hold you all night so you won’t get up and cut.”

Annie flinched at the unshielded comment. “This is crazy.”

“Then bring your whole mattress if you have to. Or convince Hitch to take this room and we’ll move in there. Either way, we’re roommates so I can keep an eye on you.”

“I’m not getting out of this.”

“No. You’re not. There’s no way in hell you’re staying in the same room as her, okay?”

“…Okay.”

Mikasa pulled her into a strong hug. “I have to keep you safe.”

Annie stiffened for a moment, then gently laid her hands on Mikasa’s back. “I’ll be safe.”

“Go get your stuff for the night.”

Annie stood and peeled the towel from her arm. The bleeding had basically stopped, and she hid her arm under her sleeve once more.

After Annie left, Mikasa took a moment to compose herself and change into her pajamas. Down to just a t-shirt, she observed herself in the full-length mirror on her closet door. The scars on her arms would always be slightly raised, a dark red to remind her of the torture she felt since losing her parents. There was no need to show Annie tonight. She didn’t want to overload Annie with information: I’m just like you, but your path will diverge from the tracks on my arms, and you’ll heal, and I’ll be there, I’ll be there, and—scars or no—we will both know peace.

She had so many words for Annie, though they were mostly:

You’ll be okay.

You’re okay.

You’re okay. Ao3

[becasbelt]

Chapters: 4/12 Fandom: Pitch Perfect (Movies) Rating: T Relationships: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell Characters: Beca Mitchell, Chloe Beale, Dr. Mitchell (Pitch Perfect), Beca Mitchell's Mother, Aubrey Posen, Jesse Swanson Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, skateboarder!beca, Romance, Angst

* * *

CHAPTER 4

“Are you sure I’m not going to fall over?”

“I’m gonna hold onto you. You’re not going to fall.”

“What if you let go?”

“Chloe, I’m not going to let go.”

Chloe looks at Beca with unbelieving eyes. “I remember learning how to ride a bike, Beca. I know about the whole ‘make them believe you’re going to hold on and then let go after a while’ thing.”

Beca bites her lip to stop the grin threatening to break free. “I was… definitely not going to do that.”

“Sure you weren’t.”

Beca’s friendship with Chloe has progressively built over the past month or so. Usually Beca liked to be a loner and didn’t mind not having anyone to hang out with, but the ginger was just about the most persistent person Beca had ever met, besides maybe her father.

There hasn’t been a day that’s gone by since Beca joined the Bellas that Chloe hasn’t talked to her in some way. She always wakes up to a good morning text, and often falls asleep texting the affectionate redhead. Chloe liked to show up unannounced at Beca’s door with coffee, movies, or snacks, and Beca would always let her in with fake annoyance.

Beca didn’t know exactly what it was about the senior that made her accept her into her life so easily. Maybe it was the way Chloe never pried. She was always eager to share, and sometimes over share, details about her life, but she never forced Beca to talk about hers. She was kind and understanding, and she didn’t seem to mind Beca’s constant grumpiness and turbulent personality. She just seemed to get Beca in a way that no one else ever had.

It was fair to say that Beca was attracted to her a cappella-loving friend. When she’d first realized the fact, she had immediately tried to deny it and avoided Chloe for almost a solid two days.

Then Chloe had shown up at Beca’s dorm with ice cream, asking if she was okay, and Beca knew she was screwed.

So Beca liked Chloe, and she was pretty sure that Chloe was crushing on her as well, if the way she was always flirting with her and touching her was any indication. Which was honestly awesome, if you asked Beca.

A hot, funny redhead possibly liked her? Yeah, Beca would take that.

But Beca knew nothing could happen between them. If something casual were to develop, that would be great, but Beca had a feeling that Chloe Beale didn’t do casual.

Chloe Beale was the most passionate person Beca had ever met. She had an opinion on just about everything and cared deeply about most things in life. Beca guessed that she liked commitment, and was all-in when it came to relationships.

And Beca is leaving at the end of the year, which is decidedly not all-in in any way.

So Beca was fine to just be friends and ignore her feelings until the end of the year. Then she would go back to Seattle and probably forget that Chloe Beale ever existed in the first place.

At least that’s what she told herself.

But still, Beca couldn’t help but allow her eyes to drift to Chloe’s face every once in a while; let her touches linger longer than they should. A little harmless flirting never hurt anyone, right?

Sure, right.

Beca holds one hand up to her heart and raises the other square in the air. “I swear on my official BU rape whistle that I will not let go of you until you give me explicit permission to do so.”

Chloe giggles before forcing a serious expression on her face. “I will trust in the whistle,” she says solemnly. “Now, help me get on this death trap.”

Beca rolls her eyes affectionately and holds out a steadying hand for Chloe to take. “Hop on up, then, Tony Hawk.”

One of Chloe’s hands comes up to grip Beca’s as she places one foot on the purple and black deck. Then, she sucks in a breath and brings the other foot up. Chloe’s hands move to grip Beca’s shoulders from where she’s standing in front of the board. Beca brings her own hands up to hold Chloe’s arms.

“See?” she says once Chloe’s steady. “Not so scary.”

“Easy for you to say,” Chloe says, face bunched in concentration and focus. Beca can’t help but find the expression cute.

In fact, all of Chloe looks cute today, she thinks. She’s wearing some old, worn-out converse, ripped jeans, a BU snapback, and one of Beca’s flannels over a t-shirt because she had to look the part, Beca. Beca hadn’t fought her on the matter one bit. She didn’t dare say anything that would make Chloe want to change out of this look.

Oh yeah, she was royally screwed.

Beca realizes too late that she was openly checking Chloe out. When she looks back at Chloe’s face, the senior is wearing a smug smirk.

“What are you lookin’ at, Bec?” Chloe teases.

Beca feels her face flush. “Nothing,” she says quickly, causing Chloe to laugh. Beca moves so that she’s standing behind Chloe instead. “Let’s just do this thing. Maybe if I’m lucky you’ll crash into something.”

Before Chloe can come up with a comeback, Beca begins to push her. Chloe yelps at the sudden movement and throws her arms out for balance. This time it’s Beca’s turn to laugh. She settles her hands on Chloe’s waist and starts her on a slow roll down the sidewalk.

They’re at the skate park near Barden, though they’re sticking to the safety of the flat sidewalk. On top of the clothes, Chloe had also insisted she go to an actual skateboard zone to learn. Beca, of course, hadn’t minded one bit and just hopped into Chloe’s car.

Chloe rolls for a while, though her form still makes it look like she’s free-falling in midair. “Try putting your arms down to your side,” she suggests. “That way you won’t look like you’re trying to take flight.”

“I’m gonna fall if I do that.”

Beca rolls her eyes. “For the last time, you won’t fall down.”

Despite her hesitance, Chloe slowly lowers her arms down to her sides so that she looks more casual, though they still fly out every once in a while when she loses her sense of balance. Beca nods her head in approval.

“I’m gonna let of you now.”

“No, you can’t,” Chloe tells her. “You said you wouldn’t.”

“Yeah, well,” Beca replies, unconcerned. “We all say things in life we don’t mean, Beale.”

With that, Beca lets go of her hold on Chloe’s waist. Chloe’s hands immediately fly out to balance herself again. “Beca, you piece of shit!” she yells as she rolls away on her own.

Beca just laughs. “Loosen up,” she calls back to her, “and if you feel like you’re going to fall just hop off.”

Chloe does her best to follow Beca’s advice and eventually relaxes. After a while she successfully attempts a push with her foot. Beca whoops in response. Chloe makes a wide turn at the end of the path and skates her way back over to Beca. When she comes to a clumsy stop in front of Beca, she’s grinning from ear to ear.

“How was that?” she asks, seeming supremely proud of herself.

Beca shrugs her shoulders, but a grin is plastered on her own face. “You’re a natural, Chlo.”

Chloe flips her hair with an air of fake cockiness. “I know.” They both laugh and start walking back in the direction of the park, knocking their shoulders together playfully. “So,” Chloe says after a moment of quiet, “am I going to get to see some of your dope moves?”

Beca wrinkles her nose. “If you promise to never say ‘dope’ again, then sure.”

Chloe cheers and pushes the board into Beca’s hands. Beca holds it loosely by her side as she walks over to the edge of the bowl. Luckily there’s only one or two other skaters at the park today, so it isn’t overly crowded. She sets up her board so that it’s hanging over the side and places her feet in position. She looks behind her to see Chloe settled on a bench to watch and shoots her a wink before pushing forward and dropping into the bowl.

The familiar rush of adrenaline she always gets from skating fills her body, and soon all Beca can think about is the feel of the board beneath her feet, the wind rushing in her ears, and the feeling of weightlessness as she twists in the air. She only glances over at Chloe once when she hears her cheering loudly for her after she does a trick, and she shoots her a grin with her tongue stuck between her teeth in response.

After a couple minutes – or fifteen, she honestly doesn’t know – Beca flips up out of the top of the bowl. She’s breathless, more so from the thrill than the actual physical exertion. Smiling, she makes her way leisurely back to Chloe.

Chloe stands as Beca approaches, a dazed look upon her face. “I’m gonna say it,” Chloe says once she’s close enough. “Beca Mitchell, you are hot stuff.”

Beca blushes and brings a hand up to rub the back of her neck, looking to the side in embarrassment. “Yeah, well,” she mumbles, scuffing a toe against the pavement. “Everyone needs a hobby, right?”

Chloe hums in agreement and Beca looks back at her to see her looking her up and down with her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. Beca’s blush darkens. A second later, and Chloe seems to snap out of it. “So are there any other talents of yours that I should know about?”

She sounds like she’s joking, and Beca should just accept it as a joke, but for some reason Beca decides to take it seriously.

“Actually, there is one other thing you don’t know about me.”

* * *

Small fists slam down on the piano keys in frustration. A voice lets out a cry a moment later. “I hate this!”

Hesitant footsteps approach the front room. “Everything alright, Bug?”

Beca wipes an angry tear from her eye and sniffs. “Don’t call me that,” she mumbles. “I’m ten now, so I’m too old for that.”

Her father holds up his hands in surrender before making his way to stand next to where Beca sits on the piano bench. “Scooch over,” he says, nudging at her shoulder.

Beca slides over without a word, still glaring at the keys in front of her. “I hate the piano,” she grumbles bitterly.

“Is that so?” her dad asks, eyebrows rising. “And why is that?”

Beca crosses her arms. “It’s stupid. And hard. And the music is boring.”

Her dad nods his head solemnly. “Well, that is true,” he agrees.

“I never want to play again.”

“Okay, then don’t.”

Beca looks up at him in surprise. “What?”

He shrugs. “If you hate it so much, then just quit.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

A look of apprehension crosses Beca’s face. “Okay,” she says slowly. “Then I’m going to quit.”

Her dad smiles. “Good for you, Beca.”

With that, he turns towards the piano and places his hands on the keys. Beca listens glumly as he starts playing a sweet melody. Thinking he’s just showing off, she scowls and turns her head away to glare at the wall.

Then the melody starts to shift into a more familiar one. Beca turns her head slightly to look at her dad, only to see him already smiling at her. She turns her head away pointedly again. Undeterred, he continues playing until he suddenly stops, holding out the chord leading into the next phrase. Beca turns towards him again and sees him looking at her expectantly.

Stubbornly holding back a grin, Beca looks down at the keyboard. She slowly unfolds her arms and lays her right hand on the keys before playing the pickup notes leading into the next part of the melody. Her dad continues playing, accompanying the melody she plucks out. Eventually her left hand joins her right and it becomes a full duet.

They mess around for a while, trading the lead part back and forth and adding embellishments where they see fit until the song comes to a natural end. Her dad puts his foot down on the sustain pedal, letting their final chord hang in the air to fade out. He puts his hands in his lap and looks over at Beca with a casual expression on his face.

“You sure you want to quit?” he asks simply.

Beca shakes her head and smiles. “I guess not,” she admits. “Not yet, at least.”

* * *

The rehearsal room’s lights are turned off, the space lit by the light filtering in through the windows near the top of the bleachers. The setting sun bathes the room in an orange glow, illuminating dust particles in the air where the rays hit them. The atmosphere is quiet and still.

Beca sits on the bench in front of the old piano, wringing her hands nervously in her lap. Chloe sits next to her, surprisingly quiet for once, as if sensing that this is a big deal. She had asked no questions when Beca had led them here from the skate park, which Beca was grateful for.

If she had been asked any questions, Beca might have chickened out.

She still might.

At last, Beca finds the conviction to move. She rolls her shoulders back and takes a deep breath, shifting on the piano bench to get comfortable. She shakes her hands out slightly before hovering them over the keyboard. The moment her fingers make contact with the smooth ivory, she lets go of her breath and begins to play.

The melody that comes to life is sweet and soft and delicate, and Beca doesn’t even have to think of the notes to play it. It’s a song that she played often as a kid; one that her father eventually had to tell her to stop playing because he kept getting it stuck in his head when he tried to do work. She closes her eyes and lets the familiar movements take over.

Beca supposes that playing piano is a lot like riding a skateboard, in a way. Both fill you with emotions until you can hardly breathe, causing all thoughts to vanish from your mind except for what you’re focusing on right then. Both have highs and lows, whether they come from jumps and flips or rising dynamics and falling lines.

Both have a place in Beca's heart, and Beca thinks she’s finally beginning to understand that.

When the final chord plays, Beca sustains it for a while and allows the notes to ring through the air before slowly fading away, the room filling with silence once again. Except, Beca thinks she feels lighter now than before, somehow.

She opens her eyes and looks at Chloe to see a small smile on her face and amazement shining in her eyes.

And Beca supposes that Chloe Beale is not unlike music either; she fills you up and takes your breath away, leaving parts of her in your heart.

Beca feels her heart beat heavily in her chest.

After a long moment spent looking at each other, Chloe breaks the silence. “Where did you learn to play like that?”

“I might have taken lessons for a year or so. Or seven,” Beca admits sheepishly. “As well as voice lessons for six,” she adds as an afterthought.

Chloe shoves her, though not hard enough to push her off the small piano bench. “Beca Mitchell, why didn’t you tell me you were a music genius?”

Beca shrugs. “It never came up,” she reasons lightly, then becomes a little more serious. “Plus, I, uh… I don’t really do that stuff anymore.”

Chloe’s eyebrows furrow. “Why not?”

Beca looks away from Chloe’s concerned gaze. “It’s complicated,” she says quietly.

She feels a hand rest on her arm. Beca looks back at Chloe. “Well, regardless of if you enjoy it or not, I thought it was beautiful,” she punctuates her thought by gently squeezing her arm. “You are so talented, Beca.”

Beca suddenly has to fight off a wave of emotions at the words, and she feels herself leaning in towards Chloe without even realizing it. Chloe’s eyes are focused on her lips as she also leans in just the slightest amount. Beca glances down at Chloe’s lips for a brief moment, and she considers closing the distance.

Then, Beca pulls away and the moment disappears. She clears her throat and looks down at her hands in her lap. From the corner of her eye she sees Chloe try to act casual as well. Beca decides a change of pace wouldn’t hurt right about now.

“Want to go get some food?” she asks only slightly awkwardly. She tries for a more sarcastic tone. “I worked up an appetite showing off for you today.”

Chloe giggles and the tension releases. “Only if you let me pay for you, superstar.”

They get up from the small bench and walk out of the rehearsal room. Chloe makes sure to lock the door behind them and they set off on their way. Beca feels Chloe reach down to loosely entwine their fingers, and she can’t help but think that she’s kind of okay with where she’s ended up for the time being.

* * *

Beca’s first a cappella competition is about as dull as she expected it to be. Most of the groups are mediocre at best; between poor tuning, uninspired arrangements, and uncertain vocals, Beca is all around unimpressed.

Not that Beca knows or cares about anything a cappella related, of course.

The group performing currently shows mild promise, Beca thinks. They wear all black, and their light melody floats easily above the soloist. It’s nothing too flashy, which Beca respects.

Then they pull out sock puppets and Beca’s respect is immediately lost. Still, she can’t but admire their creativity, even if it is pretty lame.

Aubrey doesn’t seem too impressed by them, either. While the “Sockappellas” go through their set, she quickly tries to shut down any of the complimentary comments the rest of the Bellas have about them. “There’s no craft there,” she hisses. “Watching them will make you worse.”

Annoyance flares up in Beca. “At least they’re different,” she counters quietly. She doesn’t turn around to see Aubrey’s reaction, but she can feel the captain’s glare burning on the back of her head. Beca fights off a smirk.

The Sockappellas conclude their set and the Bellas clap politely for them before huddling up. “Hands in,” Aubrey tells them. The Bellas do as they’re told, and Beca sandwiches herself in between Cynthia-Rose and Lilly. “Remember, ‘ah’ on three,” Aubrey says sternly, and they all attempt to throw their hands up on three (after three?) once again with little success.

Chloe tries to calm Aubrey down from her frustration while the announcer on stage starts to announce them. “Let’s give it up for… the Barden Bellas!”

The crowd cheers and the Bellas start walking down the aisle towards the stage. They climb the steps and get into position, and Beca makes sure to tug her skirt down from where it’s ridden up.

She might end up quitting the Bellas because of the uniform alone.

Nevertheless, Beca poses with her hands on her hips and stares out into the audience, asking herself yet again how she managed to end up here.

Aubrey blows into the pitch pipe and tucks it into her blazer pocket before counting them in and their performance starts. Although Beca had been sceptic of the group when rehearsals first started because of how terrible they were, they had somehow managed to pull themselves together to be at least halfway decent.

The first half of their set goes off without a hitch, with no puking or any other bodily fluids flying out into the audience in any capacity. Chloe’s solo goes alright as well, though Beca does notice a few of the audience members start to dose off and lose interest in the middle of it. And Beca can’t really blame them; the set is pretty dull.

Still, Beca feels a sudden stab of annoyance that no one’s paying all that much attention to Chloe. She sounds great, and everyone in the audience should take a moment to appreciate her voice.

So Beca’s pretty done with the performance by the time Fat Amy’s solo comes around. What she is not expecting is the energy that the Australian manages to pump into the number. Amy goes completely rogue with the her performance, and Beca can see Aubrey glaring daggers at her as a result.

The thought of Aubrey being pissed off coupled with the ridiculousness that is Fat Amy is enough to make Beca smile all throughout the Aussie’s solo. She’s holding back her laughter by the end of their set, and she lets herself grin widely at the audience as they hold their finishing pose.

Amy soaks in the audience’s praise for a few moments before the Bellas bow and make their way offstage. Beca passes Jesse on their way down the aisle and he gives her a thumbs up before the announcer calls the Trebles up to the stage. The Trebles rush onto the stage in flurry of energy that makes Beca roll her eyes.

The Bellas group up together at the back of the auditorium to watch the Trebles’ actually good performance. Chloe sidles up next to Beca halfway through and Beca leans comfortably into her side, quickly losing interest in the Trebles. She glances up at Chloe to see her attention still focused avidly onstage.

The Trebles finish their set and the crowd erupts in cheers, clearly in love with the group of boys. Beca hears Aubrey scoff from behind her and just shakes her head, laughing at how ridiculously serious some people are about this whole a cappella thing. She starts playfully bumping into Chloe’s side to keep herself entertained as they wait for results.

Much to her surprise, they end up getting second, which is good enough for them to advance to the semi-finals. A part of Beca is proud that they were able to pull through so that they can advance, but a larger, louder part of her is kind of disappointed that she’ll have to keep rehearsing and going to competitions.

Unsurprisingly, the Trebles get first. Which Beca thinks is fair, because they were pretty much the only group with a worthwhile performance.

Beca expects Aubrey to immediately start lecturing them about what they should have done better as soon as the Trebles run out of the auditorium in a frenzy, trophy held high above their heads, but surprisingly she doesn’t say a word. She just ushers them out the door with a smile on her face behind the Trebles.

The scene that greets them out in the lobby is an absurd one. The Trebles seem to be squaring up against a group of four middle-aged dudes, though it isn't clear which side had started it. She watches them mouth off to each other for moment in amusement before a couple of the older men single out some of the Trebles – including Jesse.

A crease forms between Beca’s brows as she watches a short, black-haired guy start trying to convince Jesse to hit him. Beside her, Amy makes a punching motion, obviously thrilled by the violent turn, and Chloe places a hand on her shoulder to admonish her.

Jesse is obviously uncomfortable at the prospect of fighting a random stranger, and Beca feels some of her protective instincts rear up. Jesse may be kind of annoying, and nerdy, and way too into singing for her liking, but he is sort of her friend, damn it. If anyone was going to beat him up it would be her after he gets on her nerves too much.

“I’m just gonna,” Beca says absently to no one in particular, carefully climbing her way down the steps towards Jesse. “I’m just gonna check on him.”

Beca makes her way as quickly as she can in her heels over to Jesse and taps the man on his shoulder with a sharp “hey” to get him to turn around. He turns around, only to meet the end of her fist.

Now, Beca’s no pro fighter. Sure, she’s been in her fair share of tussles here and there because of dumb people from her high school, but she definitely wouldn’t say that she enjoys fighting.

Still, she’s got a mean left hook, which is coming in handy right about now.

The man falls to the ground and Beca shakes out her left hand, her knuckles stinging unpleasantly from the impact. The guy she just punched has a red mark on his cheek from where she hit him, but he looks thrilled for some reason. “Oh, that’s fantastic,” he says gleefully.

Thoroughly confused at this point, Beca looks over to see Amy, holding the Trebles’ trophy in her hands, advancing towards the psychotic man. “Feel the fat power!” she roars. Beca quickly goes to work trying to subdue the large Australian and grabs onto one side of the trophy, but Amy still manages to kick the guy in the balls, to which he responds equally as enthusiastically. Amy tries to pull the trophy out of Beca’s hands. “Give me the sharp weapon! I want to put it up his butt!”

The man gets on all fours and sticks his ass in the air. “Ooh, cherry on top,” he says excitedly.

Beca doubles down on her efforts to remove the trophy from Amy’s hands, and Amy automatically pulls it in the opposite direction. One moment they’re playing tug-of-war with it, and the next it’s flying through the nearby window. The larger part of the trophy crashes through the glass, shattering it instantly.

Shock courses through Beca’s system at the destruction, and she holds her hands, still clutching onto part of the trophy, up to shield her face from the flying glass. She slowly lowers her arms to see a police officer walking briskly towards the building and the people around her start to scatter. Amy runs down the hallway with a cry of “I’m vertical running!” while Beca stands frozen in her place.

The next thing she knows, handcuffs are being slapped around her wrists and she’s being led outside to a cop car. Before they reach the car, Beca hears her name being called from near the building. She looks over her shoulder to see Chloe running after her.

“Beca, what should I do?” Chloe asks in a panic once she’s close enough, looking as if she’s on the verge of tears.

Beca tries to twist around to see her better, but the cop holding onto her arm makes it difficult. “Everything’s gonna be alright, Chlo,” she tries to reassure her. “I’ll call someone to come sort things out. I’ll be fine.” Chloe looks like she doesn’t believe her, so Beca gives her reassuring smile. “I promise.”

Although she still looks hesitant, Chloe slowly nods her head. “Okay,” she says shakily. “Just… if I don’t hear from you within 24 hours, I will come and get you.”

The cop opens the door and Beca slides in, ducking her head so she doesn’t smack it on the frame. “Thank you,” she tells Chloe. “I’ll be alright. Just tell the girls to leave without me.”

The last thing Beca sees before the car pulls away is Chloe standing on the sidewalk, hands on her hips and looking like her entire world has dropped out from underneath her.

* * *

A cop comes to let her out before she’s even had her one phone call.

In all honesty, Beca had no plan when she’d told Chloe that everything would be fine. She didn’t really have anyone she could call; all of her friends were in the Bellas, her dad would literally kill her if he found out about this, and Kimmy Jin would probably hang up as soon as she heard Beca’s voice.

Beca’s been arrested before. Twice, in fact. The first time had been because she had been caught graffitiing with some of her buddies and the second was because she had been drinking at a party that got too out of control. Both times she had called her mom to come get her, which her mother did without a word, though Beca had felt the palpable disappointment coming from her.

Her mom wasn’t here now, so Beca had to come up with another plan. She’s just decided on calling Luke – sure, he’s her boss, but she also has a feeling he’s the type of guy to have both been arrested and also bail out his friends who have gotten arrested – when the door to her cell opens. She looks up to see a police officer standing in the now open cell door.

“You’re free to go,” he tells her gruffly.

Beca stands slowly. “How?” she asks, confused as she follows the cop out of the holding area. “I didn’t even call anyone.”

The officer shrugs. “Someone just came to pick you up. That’s all I know.”

He opens the door leading out into the police station lobby and Beca feels her blood turn to ice at who’s standing there.

“Dad?”

Her father looks at her sternly. “Let’s go, Beca."

He leads her out of the building and Beca can feel the anger coming off of him. “How did you know I was here?” she asks.

“Officer Presley is a friend of mine,” he answers shortly. His words are clipped and he doesn’t turn to look at her. “He recognized you and gave me a call to let me know what happened.” They reach his car and he finally turns to look to look at her, but Beca kind of wishes he’d turn back around. She can’t bear to see the look in his eyes.

“And you’re mad,” she says hesitantly. Might as well poke the bear and get it over with, she figures.

Her dad barks out a laugh. “Hell yes I’m mad, Beca,” he says, voice just edging on a shout. “I get a call in the middle of the night saying my daughter has been arrested for destruction of property? I think I have the right to be upset.”

Although she’s at fault here, Beca can’t help but get defensive. “I was putting myself out there,” she retorts. “Making memories.”

“If you think I’m going to let you drop out and go back to Seattle after this, I’m not,” her dad tells her firmly. “Get in the car.”

“You’re not even going to hear what I have to say?” Beca questions him desperately.

“No, not tonight,” her dad says, obviously done with talking. Beca pushes back the onslaught of frustrated tears that threaten to escape and climbs into the passenger seat. When her dad turns on the car, Frank Sinatra is playing on the stereo, and she immediately leans over and jabs her finger harshly on the power button, silencing the noise. Then she folds her arms and glares out the window.

The car ride back to campus is tense and quiet. Beca doesn’t speak and neither does her father. When he pulls up next to her dorm building, she pushes open the door and jumps out before the car has even made a complete stop. She slams the door shut behind her and storms to the building, not looking back once.

Beca walks dejectedly down the hall to her room, feeling angry and sad and frustrated. This wasn’t how this night was supposed to go. She was only supposed to go to the stupid competition, hopefully lose said competition, and then maybe cuddle Chloe to console her on the way home. She certainly wasn’t supposed to get arrested.

She just hoped her dad wasn’t serious when he said that she couldn’t quit school anymore. It had to be just a thing he said in the heat of the moment, fueled by anger, right?

Beca sighs and pushes her door open. She’s met with the sight of all the Bellas sitting in her room; piled on the bed, laying on the floor, or – in Aubrey’s case – perched in her desk chair. Various catcalls immediately sound from the girls at her entrance and Beca feels her spirits lift a little at the sight of these weirdos.

“What up, Shawshank?” Amy asks.

“Did you get yourself a bitch?” Cynthia-Rose inquires slyly.

“Did they spray you with a hose?” comes Amy’s second question.

Beca smiles a little and looks at Chloe, who’s sitting on the end of her bed next to Cynthia-Rose. “You guys waited up for me?”

“Of course we waited up for you,” Chloe says softly, pushing herself more upright on the bed.

Suddenly Kimmy Jin materializes in front of Beca. “They’ve been here all night,” she says sharply. “It’s a real inconvenience, Beca.” With that she he walks out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Beca holds back a smirk at how upset her roommate is as Aubrey stands up from the desk chair. “Beca, I’m glad you’re here,” she says formally, which Beca thinks is odd, considering this is her room. “Our scorecard revealed that the Sockappellas almost beat us. Fat Amy,” she turns her attention on the Aussie, who smiles cheesily up at her. “You have to stick to how we’ve rehearsed,” Aubrey lectures sternly. “No more surprises.”

“We should be taking risks,” Beca interjects, and Aubrey’s attention snaps to her. “It’s not enough to be good; we need to be different.”

Aubrey stares at Beca as if she’s just grown a second head. “And where is this coming from?” she asks incredulously. “You go through rehearsals all year as if you hate being there and now you suddenly want to start making suggestions? That doesn’t seem quite right to me, Beca.”

Beca clenches her jaw to keep from lashing out at Aubrey’s patronizing tone. “Look,” she says through her teeth. “If you want to keep doing the same set over and over again, it’s none of my business. I could not care less,” Beca shakes her head. “But I can’t have been the only one to notice how half our audience was asleep, right?”

She looks at the others and is relieved to see some of them nodding their heads in hesitant agreement. She opens her mouth to speak again but Aubrey cuts her off. “I have the pitch pipe, and I say we do the set-list as planned.”

Chloe starts to speak, “Aubrey, maybe we should consider trying something else-”

“Aca-scuse me?” Aubrey interrupts sharply. Chloe’s mouth snaps shut. Beca’s eyes narrow upon seeing the look of shame that crosses Chloe’s face. “This is the last I want to hear about any this. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going home so I can get some rest. I’ll see you all at rehearsal tomorrow.”

With that, Aubrey shoots one last glare at Beca, which she reciprocates, and exits the room. There’s an awkward silence that follows her departure, and it’s broken by Amy clearing her throat. “Welp,” she says, pushing herself to her feet with a huff. “I think I’ll take my leave as well.” She heads to the door and the rest of the Bellas soon follow suit, murmuring their goodbyes as they leave. Soon, all that’s left is Beca and Chloe.

Chloe stands up from the bed slowly and turns to Beca. Beca gives her a small smile. “Well, thanks for waiting up for me, I guess,” she says awkwardly. Chloe nods her head.

“Of course. It was the least I could- I mean, we, could do.”

Beca smiles for real at her little slip up and folds her arms over her stomach. “I really did appreciate it,” she says sincerely and looks down at her feet.

Then, all at once she’s being enveloped in Chloe’s hug. Strong arms come up around her shoulders and Beca lets her arms loop around Chloe’s middle as warmth fills up every corner of Beca’s body. For once she doesn’t complain; she just lets herself be held. She buries her face in Chloe’s shoulder, breathing in her familiar scent, and feels calmer than she has all night.

She feels a kiss being pressed to the top of her head, and for the first time Beca lets herself think that if Chloe were to remain at Barden for some reason, it wouldn’t be so bad being forced to stay.

[sasuhinasno1fan]

Dates can be an escape to freedom- Lukadrien June Day 6

I’ve been rewatching a lot of Degrassi and I’ve always really like Eclaire. This is also a cannon divergant, mama Agreste is alive and well, maybe a bit sick from the Peacock Miraculous and Gabriel is still HawkMoth. Marinette and Adrien are still Ladybug and Chat Noir but they know each other identies and have gotten over their former crushes for each other. @lukadrien-june Freedom

Adrien glanced over to his mother, who stood staring at the street next to Gorilla almost snarling at anyone he thought was a problem. To anyone looking, they would see his mother just staring calmly at the street as more cars pulled up to drop families off for the Mineur César Awards, awards given out across schools for best films produced by students. But even from where he stood he could see the pursed lips, narrowed his, deep breathing to keep from blowing up. His parents had been fighting and all the extra hours at the fashion house and not with his family, even after making his only son model for it on top of his heavy schedule, was getting to his mother The house they lived in was huge but it still couldn’t stop him from listening to them argue over how mother felt like they didn’t matter to his father when it came to fashion.

When Adrien found out Nino’s film, which he’d acted in, was up for nomination, he told his parents, hoping the night as a family would cool any tensions and maybe make them talk. But of course, his father was late, his mother was mad and all he wanted was for the night to end so he could go on his date.

Yeah, date.

During filming, Juleka, their makeup artist and classmate, wanted to try different looks on him to match the costume Marinette made, so she invited him to her house. Well, boat house to be more accurate, but still. While there he met Luka, Juleka’s older brother. He’d gotten lost when coming back from the bathroom and walked in to find this older blue haired musician strumming on his guitar. He smiled at Adrien, as in his embarrassment, rambled on how he was looking for Juleka’s room.

“Juls’ room is next door. Look for the rainbow sticker Rose put on the door one day. You know, Juls’ said you were much nicer than she imagined a model to be, but she never said how cute you are when you ramble.”

As a model, Adrien had been complimented a lot, he was immune to it. But hearing it from Luka, he felt his face get hot. He felt oversensitive to the idea that Luka was close by and he collapsed to his friends, begging for help.

Alya was smiling like a fox when Adrien was done. “Someone’s got a crush.” she sing songed.

“No I don’t. I just met the guy.”

“Adrien, remember when I had the biggest crush on you?” Marinette asked.

“Um, kinda?” he had been oblivious to it until Marinette confessed.

“How you just talked about him, I’d talk about you.” Alya nodded in agreement. “Look, if you do like him, than maybe it’ll help you figure out if you’re bi or not, like you’ve been questioning. Just, unlike how I did it, maybe get to know him a bit better instead of just going for mostly looks?”

So he did. He’d join him when the filming group would take a break and jam out – which later formed the band Kitty Section for which he did keys – , talk when they had the chance, he even helped tutor Luka in physics. During that time, he got to know Luka better. He loved music, especially Jagged Stone’s, he was a pretty amazing ice skater, he could play the emotions he heard in people’s hearts. The first time he’d done that to Adrien, he’d dealt the the backlash of his parent’s arguing when his mother harshly snapped at him on her way to work. Adrien was expecting a pat on the back and told to suck it up, but Luka sat and listened as Adrien ranted and when it was over and he was near tears, Luka opened his arms for a hug. Luka gave great hugs.

“Have you ever considered talking to your parents about what you've been going through because of their arguing? I know they wouldn’t like seeing you like this.”

“I’ve tried but they keep saying everything is ok.”

“Well music is what I usually use in place of words and you said your parents taught you the piano right? Maybe you could write a song and play it for them, if you can’t talk.”

it had been good advice. Getting them both when free had been hard but Nathalie was a huge help. It had worked for a while, his parents talking, but then it down spiraled again. He didn’t even think about it then, he just went to the boat house and sat in Luka’s room.

“I’m sorry if I’m bothering you.”

“You’re not. If the boat house is your escape to freedom, then door is always open.” Luka put his hand on Adrien’s. “I’m here if you need it.”

When filming was over and turned in, they had a cast party at the park near Marinette’s family patisserie and he talked to Luka about how much he appreciated being there for him.

“I don’t know how to thank you.” Adrien had said.

The usually calm looking Luka looked shy as he said the next words. “How about a date?” his shyness was overtaken by nervousness when Adrien hadn’t responded. “Unless I read the signs wrong?”

“No! No, you didn’t. I would love to go. Um, I know you’re going on that trip to London though, with your school and I have, practically everything else. When you get back?”

“Sure.”

His usually after-school activities took quite a lot of his time, but the two were able to survive with calls and texts and messages through Juleka. When Luka scored tickets to a private premier to Jagged Stone’s new album, that was going to be there date, after the awards. But his mom shut that down real quick, saying she and her father had something they needed to tell him. He didn’t want to guess, mostly cause he didn’t want it to be true. All he wanted was to escape into freedom with Luka before everything he knew went crashing down around him.

                                                  ______________

“And I like to thank my parents for instilling a love of theatre in me at such a young age, thank you.” Adrien drown, the model persona he’d usually throw on in front of a large crowd of mostly strangers absent.

His father was late, just arriving as the awards began. But with him he had a huge bouquet of flowers for Adrien as a congratulations, even though he hadn’t won anything yet.

“An Agreste never fails at what he does.” his father said.

“Except show up on time.” his mother snapped back.

The two were arguing around him until he snapped himself and told them to stop. When his category was called, Best Male Lead, he was filled with nerves, so when they called his name, he was elated. He heard his friends cheering for him but when he realised his parents were too busy being mad at each other to even clap for him. He might of stomped up the stairs like a child but he felt like it was allowed.

With his award in hand, he went backstage, needing a moment before he went back out to deal with his parents when he heard someone clapping for him.

“Luka.”

“Quite the speech, if not a bit monotone. I can hear your heart, sad and angry. Even tonight?” he asked, referring to Adrien’s parents.

“Even tonight.”

“Well at least we have our date to distract you. oh.” he said, seeing the look on Adrien’s face. “they said no?”

Adrien was going to say yes, but then he realised something. With the way his parents were acting, he felt like he couldn’t breath and he knew what was coming. Just for a little while, he needed to be free.

“Why should they get to ruin my night? Will it be ok if I use our date to escape?”

“I offer you the freedom you deserve, even if for only a night.” Luka said, outstretching his hand, which Adrien took.

The blonde model pulled him across the stage, darting behind the announcer and no doubt exposing them to his parents, but he could care less. When he was around Luka, he felt like anything was possible, like he could breath. Like he was free.

They arrived at the secret party in the more party area of Paris but inside because of the small crowd, things were going well. Penny greeted him, whispering that she wouldn’t say anything to his dad and steering them away from the alcohol.

“I hate really hard stuff anyway. Most I do is wine and that’s at high function evens. With my parent’s permission.” Adrien said as he stood next to Luka as they ordered sodas at the bar.

“Lightweight, inharited from my mom. Drinks plus rocking boat doesn’t make for a good time.” Luka joked.

“Thanks again for bringing me here. I’m having a good time.”

“And our night is barely starting. Who knows what waits for us?”

the rest of the night was the best. They danced to the heavy rock music and he saw Luka fanboy a little when Jagged Stone came over and talked to them. Adrien’s parents tried calling him and the only reason the French version of the SWAT team didn’t come descending to find him was because Adrien put on the counter app Max made to block his location.

After the party, Luka took him to his favourite all night cafe.

“Did they hurt?” Adrien had been asking about Luka’s piercings, staring at them as he pushed Luka’s hair away from his ear.

“A bit. I want to get an auricle piercing next. It’s kinda halfway down your ear shell. Luka traced as Adrien moved his hand but moved just a but closer to him.

“Maybe I’ll get a matching one.”

“Badge of teenage rebellion?”

“More like badge of freedom. I have a feeling my parent’s might lock me away when I get home. This was completely worth it though.”

“Maybe I’ll have to find a way to sneak into your room.”

Adrien let out a laugh, fingers playing with the ring on his finger. “I think I’d actually have better success than you on that front.”

Luka took Adrien’s hands into his. “Think I can convince you to breath free air a bit longer? If not, I’ll walk you home myself. Unless the fighting would be worse.”

“Well at least they’d both be mad at me when it comes to that, but I think I can, in exchange for something. Juleka says that PDA is banned in your school? Something about a really horrible principal and an untimed hit from an Akuma?”

Luka looked interested in what Adrien was saying. “Your heart is singing a mischievous song. What are you planning?”

“I stay out a bit longer in exchange for some contraband kissing?” Adrien had never kissed anyone, well not really, but he wanted to kiss Luka, bad.

“I’m astonished at you. I never break the rules. Then again, where’s the fun in that though?”

Adrien couldn’t help the smile that came to his face when Luka kissed him. He might have to kiss his freedom goodbye when he got back home but for a moment like this, it was totally worth it.