#but lately people have gotten very very good at hiding it and spouting enough good talking points that they fly beneath the radar

[lostandbackagain]

nice collection but like do you have any black dolls

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Staying up late with you, RPG (2)

Summary: Kuroki Yuuya, Enma Yuuken, and Asaka Yuuki all find themselves dragged into their favorite piece of media. They're all… coping. If you can call it that.

Pt 1

Enma Yuuken wasn’t really the kind of guy to read manga. 

He had only picked up Twisted Wonderland one day because he’d had nothing else to do. He had rolled his eyes at the MC, a bright-eyed boy who had just gotten into Night Raven College, only for things to go wrong before he had even been sorted into his dorm. A monster, named Grim, was spouting about how he was going to roast the MC alive and take his clothes so he could enroll in the school in his place.

And then he had.

From then on, the manga followed the monster and his adventures through Night Raven College – dealing with people looking down on him because of his status as a monster, making friends despite his more prickly nature, shenanigans as Grim struggled to hide the truth about his ‘enrollment’ situation, and disastrous Overblots alike.

It was a good twist, and it immediately had him hooked. He found himself checking the shop once a day just in case they happened to get the newest issue early.

It was a good twist… until he was the one who had tumbled out of the coffin, who stared up at Grim, who had to see the flames puffing from the monster’s mouth with every word.

And the flames were hot, he could feel them lapping at his shoes, threatening to fuse the rubber soles to his feet. Which meant this wasn’t a dream, and that he was going to die.

But then the girl simply left.

Apparently, that was an option.

One that Enma took without hesitation.

Now, Yuuken-san, you might say, isn’t it wrong to leave that poor guy to die?

And he would respond with yeah, probably. Even if the ‘main character’ had been doomed to die from the start, he probably should have tried to help the poor guy, but… he hadn’t been able to think of a way to do that. If all of them were to leave, Grim would surely follow. The guy in the original novel hadn’t been able to reason with the monster, and Enma doubted that anyone could, and he didn’t want to die...

So, yeah, he would have to live with the fact that he had run away and let someone else get burned alive in his stead.

Sure, it wasn't like he had a choice, that guy was destined to die, but that didn't mean he couldn't feel a little bit bad about it.

Unless he simply didn’t process it. Which was kind of what he was hoping for.

It was easier to not process things when he was currently panicking about what to do. He would need to find a way to get into the group heading to the ceremony, because that would be the only way to track the people on campus and make sure that he wouldn’t get spotted, but there really wasn’t a way to do that inconspicuously…

Wait a minute.

He waited in a hallway until the group was just about to pass, and then stumbled his way into line hastily. “I’m here, I’m here,” Enma mumbled, tugging on the front of his hood, trying to cover his face, as if he were merely embarrassed.

No, he was trying to hide the fact that no one had ever seen his face before.

And he was embarrassed. He was a man of many talents, what could he say?

His ruse worked. No one spared him a second glance. Outside of the many second glances thrown his way by amused onlookers, of course, but at least no one was suspicious.

Some of the tension drained from his shoulders. Okay, he was safe.

He would still need to figure out how to stay alive in this strange new world – he had an idea, but trying to stay in the abandoned Ramshackle Dorm would come with its own challenges – assuming he was there long enough for that to be necessary… but, for the next hour or so while the ceremony took place, he would get to relax a little.

Or, at least, that was what he had thought, until Crowley had flung the doors open, about to show off the gorgeous ceremony hall for all to see, only for everyone to realize, very abruptly, that the entire place was in flames.

Enma’s eyes had landed on the boy from the coffin once again. Perfectly alive and well, sat in the middle of the flames with the monster.

“My familiar is claustrophobic,” the boy said, smiling sheepishly.

Enma almost didn’t move with the rest of the group, who accepted the explanation easily enough once the fires had all been whisked away by Crowley’s wind magic. Had he and the girl changed the story, somehow, just by being there? By choosing to leave? What would this mean in the long run?

Probably not much, outside of maybe having another person to deal with the Overblots… or not having Grim around for them, if the boy was as nerve-ridden as he seemed…

Was he this anxious in the original story?

Enma didn’t remember that, he had assumed that all of the fear he’d displayed was due to the fact that he was actively being threatened, but the guy hadn’t existed for all that long, so…

Whatever! Surely there will be no world-ending consequences from this! On a completely unrelated note, Enma would like to go home, now, actually.

The world did not listen to his silent pleas, unfortunately, so he was stuck trying to eavesdrop on the conversation Crowley and the fakeout MC(? Could Enma still call him that?) were having:

“I see you are eager to get sorted, but there is a proper procedure to these kinds of things, young…?”

“Kuroki Yuuya,” he said, smiling nervously.

Enma went very still. Because that wasn't quite the name of the original MC from the manga. One of Enma's favorite one-off jokes was Grim introducing himself to Riddle Rosehearts, where he said 'Yes, yes, my real name is Mito Yuuta, but you can call me Grim', only for Riddle to ask how those names were even related. It was dumb fun.

This, though? This was not dumb or fun.

Because, if Enma’s understanding of things was right, then this wasn’t the fakeout MC from the beginning of the novel, but instead some other random guy who had accidentally been beamed here, too.

Crap, Enma had almost allowed a random guy to die in his stead.

… he would like to go back to not thinking about this.

He tuned back into their conversation for a distraction:

“- Yuuya-san, would you be alright with taking a seat until your name is called?”

He nodded.

Grim opened his mouth, surely about to complain about not being able to go first as he had done in the manga, but Kuroki slapped his hand over the monster’s mouth.

Said monster was not pleased by this development, because he immediately bit down. Something Enma wouldn’t know if not for the pained expression on Kuroki’s face and the blood dripping down.

Crowley didn’t seem to think this suspicious, because he simply waved for Kuroki to go find an empty seat so the ceremony could start.

The ceremony was… a ceremony. Enma wanted to get this over with. Desperately. He was in the world of Twisted Wonderland for a possibly limited time, and he was spending it listening to people’s names getting called and the monotone voice of the Mirror repeating one of seven words repeatedly. It was so boring.

He didn’t stand out, though. Almost everyone was shifting restlessly in their chairs, chatting with their neighbors, lowering the brightness of their phones so they could text and play video games…

Enma’s phone buzzed in his pocket – wow, he was a terrible teenager, he hadn’t even thought to check for his phone – and he pulled it out, wondering how someone had managed to contact him even when he was within the confines of a manga, splayed in the grass by a bus stop.

“Dude, what model even is that?” the guy next to him asked.

Enma merely shrugged and tilted the screen away to check his notifications.

Kuroki has started a chat with you! Welcome!

Kuroki: Are you one of the other people from the coffin

One of the…?

His head shot up to look at Kuroki.

In a world with magic, it was likely that they would have some magical way of communicating, so the only phones that they would be able to connect to were each other’s.

(Though how their phones were even working here when there weren’t cell towers was another thing entirely. Enma couldn't even begin to try and figure out that.)

Enma: Yeah.

To his surprise, Kuroki didn’t say anything back once he got confirmation. What, did he just want to exchange numbers or something? For fun?

Then could they do the fun bit? Enma was currently practicing this little-known coping skill called avoidance and –.

Never mind, he got another notification.

Kuroki started a group chat! Welcome to ‘HELP’.

Kuroki: Guys, quick, I need help

Asaka changed the name to ‘what the fuck is going on’.

Enma changed the name to ‘No cursing, please.’.

Asaka changed the name to ‘fuck fuck fuck’.

Enma changed the name to ‘What is going on?’.

Kuroki: Guys

Asaka changed the name to ‘bastard’.

Kuroki: Seriously

Enma changed the name to ‘What is going on?’.

Kuroki: Okay. I’m just going to talk over you Kuroki: Where in the body would you say the soul is

Enma paused, his thumb still hovering over the button to change the chat name back to ‘What is going on?’ the moment Asaka changed it to something dumb again… his eyebrows knitting together.

Slowly, he navigated back to the chat box.

Enma: Do I want to know why?

Kuroki: Just tell me, please

He thought for a moment. If he were to guess…

Enma: The heart, maybe?

Asaka: wouldnt it just be all over Asaka: why would it be concentrated in one place Asaka: if you get a transplant do you swap souls

Enma decided he did not like Asaka. So much so that he wasn’t even going to dignify her questions with a response.

Instead, his gaze found its way to Kuroki, who was heavily considering their ideas. He looked at the mirror, as if it would give him all the answers. It would not, for it had no pupils for Enma to track.

His phone buzzed in his lap, and he quickly picked it up to see who had won.

Kuroki: I’m deciding that it’s in the brain

Okay, Enma officially despises everyone he had woken up in the coffin with.

Asaka: what the hell

Enma: Why even ask at that point?

Their (valid) complaints were ignored.

Maybe, partially, because Kuroki was called up to the front at that moment.

He stuffed his phone back into his pocket, and then slowly got to his feet.

Slowly, he shuffled up to the mirror.

And then he grabbed Grim, dragging him in front of his face, holding him in the way one might hold something they were trying to hide behind when nervous. Which he clearly was, so it was a successful act.

Whether it would fool the Mirror, though, was another thing entirely.

“The shape of your soul is…”

Enma, Kuroki, and Grim waited with bated breath.

“Heartslabyul!”

They all exhaled, however shakily.

Kuroki rushed to go sit with the other Heartslabyul students, though sitting wasn’t really necessary because he had to be one of the last people to get sorted with a name like ‘Yuuya’. Enma knew that much from experience. Might as well just stay standing, at that point.

Or maybe he just wanted to slump dramatically in his seat, which Enma could respect.

Enma relaxed just slightly as he watched Kuroki take a seat next to Deuce Spade. He set Grim in the spot Ace had long-since vacated to ditch with Epel, and the monster scowled at him, but Kuroki wasn't all that pleased either as he went back to pressing on the new wounds in his hand. Deuce raised an eyebrow at the pair of them, but quickly went back to paying rapt attention to the ceremony, determined still to be an 'honor student'.

It was nice to know that most things hadn't changed, even with the addition to the school. No need to worry about the plot, things should go pretty smoothly from here, which meant that he could sit back and enjoy this new world he had found himself in! Sweet!

Wait. Something not-as-sweet has occurred to him.

Kuroki was right about the soul being stored in the brain, apparently.

That was dumb.

Ugh.

Kuroki: Told you

Enma: The mirror was probably just being polite.

Asaka: wait seriously he was right Asaka: that sucks

Maybe Asaka wasn’t that bad after all.

Asaka: still makes sense more than heart though

Okay. Whatever. He powered off his phone.

“Thus concludes this year's ceremony!” Crowley said, rising to his feet, smiling brilliantly. “Let’s all make this a good year!”

Enma snickered into his hand. Across the hall, he was pretty sure he saw Kuroki do the same.

Enma got to his feet with the crowd and followed after Leona and the other Savanaclaw students until he reached a bathroom and immediately ducked inside to wait out everyone.

And then, it was off to Ramshackle dorm for him.

[plan-d-to-i]

Plan tell me what the books says about relationship between Wei Ying and Nie Huisang? Because I’ve been reading a lot of fanfiction lately and now I just can’t remember how it looked in canon

Answered here & here.

Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian got along quite well in the Cloud Recesses. Nie Huaisang was impressed and intrigued by Wei Wuxian's ideas re : cultivating w resentful energy. Unlike jiang cheng he does not constantly put him down. It's interesting to see the difference in dynamic especially in the moments were it's closely contrasted w jc's behavior:

Nie Huaisang thought for a while. “Actually, I thought what you said was very interesting,” he said, not entirely able to hide his envy and yearning. “To get spiritual energy you have to cultivate it yourself, and you can only form a golden core with a lot of hard work. It takes years for people who were born without talent, like me. It’s like I’m missing something because a dog bit me when I was in the womb. But all resentful energy comes from fierce ghosts and demons and so on, so as long as you can take it, you can use it. How amazing that would be.” …

Wei Wuxian laughed. “Right? Not using it is a waste.”

“Enough,” Jiang Cheng warned. “Whatever nonsense you spout, you better not head down that sort of dark road.” (Chapter 13)

(jc also dismisses WWX's ideas for the compass of evil and the lure flags...)

Changing the topic, he said, “If only there was something like fishing bait that could draw the water ghosts in. Or, something that could point in the direction they’re hiding, like a compass, that sort of thing.”

“Lower your head and watch the water,” Jiang Cheng said. “You’re letting your fantasies run wild again. Concentrate on looking for water ghosts like you’re supposed to.”

“Hey, mounting swords and flying was also only a fantasy once!” Wei Wuxian said.

Here NHS comes to tell WWX the good news that he probably won’t get punished meanwhile jc is hoping otherwise:

To prevent fuddy-duddies Lan the Elder and Lan the Younger from dragging him out of bed in the middle of the night to rain punishment upon him, Wei Wuxian clung to his sword the entire time he slept. However, the water was quiet and the air was still, and when the next day arrived, Nie Huaisang came to look for him, overjoyed at unexpected good news. “Brother Wei, luck is really on your side. Last night, the old man left for Qinghe to attend the Discussion Conference my clan is hosting. We don’t have to listen to lectures for the next few days!”

Without the old one, only the young one remained. This would be easy to deal with! Wei Wuxian rolled off the bed and laughed while putting on his boots. “Heaven’s charmed clouds are blessing me with shade.”

Jiang Cheng was beside him polishing his sword with loving care when he decided to spill cold water over Wei Wuxian’s head. “Just wait until he gets back. You can’t escape punishment.”

Keeping in mind that Wei Wuxian was perpetually punished and singled out for punishment in Lotus Pier this hits some type of way... NHS also asks for medicine for WWX while jc is just thinking of himself... as usual:

Jiang Cheng couldn’t have felt more awkward and had no idea how to answer, so Nie Huaisang beat him to it. “Brother Xichen, Brother Wei was punished by being hit over 100 times with the discipline ruler. Is there any medicine that could help him?”

...

Jiang Cheng was too embarrassed to talk about what Wei Wuxian had been up to. After all, all of them had egged him on to go and buy alcohol, and they all deserved to be punished as well. He could only speak vaguely. “It’s nothing. It’s nothing. It’s not that bad! He can walk. Wei Wuxian, why haven’t you gotten off yet?”

Ultimately though NHS and WWX don't have that many interactions throughout the book. The friendship aspect of their relationship was beefed up by cql/fanon. NHS didn't bring back WWX because he missed his bff, he brought WWX back because he realized WWX was the only one specialized enough in resentful energy to be able to manage NMJ''s resentful arm and solve the mystery.

He tried to search for his elder brother’s corpse, but after so many years and so much hard work, he could only find a single left hand. He was stuck at this step, without anything that could lead to the next. In addition, the left hand was abnormally fierce, too difficult to suppress. If it was left by his side, it’d keep on resulting in bloodshed. So he remembered someone. Someone who was best at dealing with these things, these problems.

The YiLing Patriarch.

But the YiLing Patriarch had been torn into pieces already. What should he do now? And so he remembered someone else. Mo XuanYu, who’d been kicked out of Koi Tower.

Perhaps to gain information from Mo XuanYu, Nie HuaiSang talked to him once. From Mo XuanYu’s grievances, he knew that Mo XuanYu had once read the fragmented manuscript that recorded an ancient, forbidden technique in Jin GuangYao’s collection. He then urged Mo XuanYu, who had had enough of the humiliation coming from his own clan members, to seek revenge using the forbidden technique of body sacrifice.

And which fierce ghost was summoned?

It was the YiLing Patriarch again, of course.

Mo XuanYu, no longer able to put up with his circumstances, finally painted the blood array, and Nie HuaiSang also used the opportunity to release the hot potato he was no longer able to keep: ChiFeng-Zun’s left hand.

From then on, the plan successfully began. He no longer needed to exert his energy on searching for the remaining limbs of Nie MingJue, instead leaving all of the dangerous and bothersome things to Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi.

These of course are all WWX's thoughts, so we don't know exactly what went through NHS's mind- as WWX himself caveats but probably close enough.

Wei WuXian stared at him for a while before finally averting his gaze. Conjectures were conjectures, after all. Nobody had evidence.

translation

In the end though, regardless of his relationship w WWX or of his motivation NHS is the one who made WangXian possible again.

[cabinofimagines]

Piper Mclean ABC’s

a/n ; yet again i have forgotten to post. this is my last though so whoopie no more scheduled inspiration.

pairing ; piper x gn!reader

wc ; 1,613

request ; nah, but we’re getting to the other dw pls shits alphabetical 

- day

Activities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

She loves loves loves going on hikes or walks with you. Finding old playgrounds or cool monuments makes her feel like she’s adventuring with you. 

Beauty - What do the admirer s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

You’re so considerate of everyone around you, even if you aren’t aware of it. She thinks it’s incredibly beautiful how kind you are to everyone, but knows that she’ll have to keep an eye out for people who try to take advantage of that.

Comfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Piper is the type to sit with you quietly when you’re having a down day. She might bring you some snacks and cuddle with you, but understands that some days are just like this. She’s similar with attacks, but usually tries to distract you with your surroundings like “Pick out 5 things you can see, 4 things you can hear, 3 things you can smell…” and so on.

Dreams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Piper wants to travel the world with you, trying new things and having new experiences with you. She fully plans to spend the rest of her life adventuring with you and if you have siblings that have kids, she plans on being the cool auntie that brings trinkets back.

Equal - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

It’s fairly equal, but she likes to mess around a lot. If she walks in on you changing, she’ll tease the shit out of you for it and make the embarrassment last a whole day.

Fight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Piper can be petty ngl, if she gets angry she might make it obvious. Kinda how kids do things to show their parents they’re angry like angrily sweeping while glaring or something. But she’ll get pouty if you laugh at her antics and the issue will be resolved soon after.

Gratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

She has this cute habit of saying thank you when you do the smallest things. You could give her a glass of water and she’ll go “:3 thank youuuu”. There is almost never a moment where you feel underappreciated for anything you do.

Honesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

There isn’t a lot that she doesn’t share, but just like in The Lost Hero, if there is something huge bothering her or if there is a potential threat, she will struggle alone. It kills her to hide something from you, but when it comes to light, she nearly breaks down in tears as she gushes out everything she withheld.

Inspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helping them overcome personal problems?

She’s still working on bits of herself, but it's not drastic changes. She may have a tendency to fall back on her bad habits, but when you scold her for it, she makes a mental note to do better.

Jealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Piper hates to admit it, but she gets jealous just like everyone else. It was more prominent when you two weren’t dating, but it still happens even as you begin dating. It isn’t major, but you’ll know when she feels as if someone is catching your attention or vice versa. 

Kiss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

it’s unfair, but being a daughter of Aphrodite makes her good at all forms of love and affection. Her kisses are absolutely intoxicating and you feel drunk after each one. Even a short peck has you in a daze.

Love Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

You two were up late because Leo wanted to show Piper his new invention and you were already on your way to visit him to make sure he wasn’t forgetting to care for himself again. The late hour impaired your decision making abilities and you just… went for it. So you two ended up kissing in Bunker 9 as Leo dozed off on his work bench. Luckily he never found out.

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

You both got the chance to hide in the lot of a drive in theater that was playing the movie UP. The monster never found you, and you got to cuddle up with Piper as you both cried in the first 5 minutes of the movie.

Nicknames - What do they call their s/o?

Piper calls you by nickname usually, but will use cute pet names like lovey or baby when it’s the two of you and no one else is around.

On Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

Piper is constantly hitting on you, even after you started dating so when the lines get bolder… it can be embarrassing. Everyone tries to ignore you two now, but sometimes the free entertainment is funny as hell.

PDA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Corny pick up lines are a regular occurrence, but Piper also really likes keeping you beside her. She’s not clingy enough to not let you do your own thing, but she enjoys keeping and hand or arm on your shoulder at all times. Even if it’s just throwing a leg over your lap as she sits down on the couch.

Quirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

She brings a spark to the relationship, something that keeps it feeling like you never left the honeymoon phase. She often spoke about hating being Aphrodites daughter, but it was beneficial in her relationships. The spark would have been there without her godly parent, but it sure gives emphasis.

Romance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Despite being the daughter of love itself, she is terrible at planning out romantic things. However, she seems to make the trashiest moments slightly romantic. You two could be on a quest together and sleeping in the back of a truck full of rotten veggies and she’ll make you feel like you’re in a truck full of… fresh veggies.

Support - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

One of your biggest cheerleaders. She’ll drag Leo along as well just to be the loudest at your events, be it by voice or by holding up signs with your name in big glittery letters.

Thrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice up your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

She’s had quite enough of thrills at a young age, but she won’t mind traveling and trying new foods. She’ll find out she’s allergic to some obscure spice and the humorous panic she spouted on the way to the ER was enough for you to want to strangle her yourself.

Understanding - How well do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Piper is very empathetic. It’s often scary how much she can understand your feelings even if you aren’t exactly open about them. She’ll pick up on your mood and somehow pick apart what caused it and if she can, she’ll fix it as best as she can.

Value - How important is the relationship to them? What is it worth in comparison to other things in their life?

Once Piper sees you as family, she’s ready to risk it all for you. If she has to walk the earth just to find you and ensure you’re safe, she would in a heartbeat. 

Wild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

Her hair had gotten too long one summer and  she had given you permission to grab a pair of scissors and go nuts. She never really cared about how her hair looked anyway, so it wouldn’t hurt for you to do it. Her only request was that you wouldn’t make it look nice. Her hair would look great anyway so you cut randomly, feeling like Piper was your personal Barbie doll and you were an odd child, cutting away the hair of the doll.

XOXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

SHe likes touching you, be it an arm or holding your hand, maybe even kissing your temple when you’re around people. She’s not a cuddle bug entirely, but she does welcome those moments when you just flop down on her, groaning as she wraps her arms and legs around you  tightly, “Hah! Now you’re trapped!”

Yearning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

Absolutely whines to you before you leave, but once you do she acts like she’s not all too affected. “Like yeah I miss them but I’m not gonna cry about it.” What a lie.

Zeal - are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

She’s willing to start a war with every god if you were in question, now she wouldn’t want to come down to that, but she’s willing to fight for you.

- - -

taglist ; @smileitsisa  , @hermionessimp​ , @beneaththeiceandsnow

[alice-angel12x]

Riddle x Mouse!Reader

The reader is a mouse beast-man that is 7.5 inches tall in normal form.

It was odd going to a school completely designed for larger students, and it took a lot of convincing to get the crow man to let me attend the school.

The entrance ceremony was a little awkward cause the headmaster had to lift me to the mirror to be properly signed to a dorm. And wouldn't you know it, I was assigned to the Heartslabyul Dorm. I happily hopped down and climbed up to my seat, next to a redheaded boy. 

He looked so serious, yet he was shaking in his boots, so I thought I would lighten the mood.

--------

I made it and into Heartslabyul dorm no less.

"Hello there," Squeaked a voice. 

I looked around looking for the source, but only saw Trey and a space next to me.

"Down here," It squeaked again.

I looked down at the chair beside me to see a tiny Person with Mouse Ears and tail. They looked no bigger than a teacup, why is such a tiny student doing here.

"I'm Y/n Angera, What's your name?" Y/n squeaked with a cute smile.

I could feel my heart start to quicken and pound in my chest as I stared at this tiny person, But why, why do I feel this way.

"Are you okay, your cheeks are red," Y/n said in a curious.

"I-It's nothing, M-My name is Riddle Roseheart," I said as I tried to recompose myself.

"It's nice to meet You Riddle," Y/n said as they held out their tiny hand.

"Likewise, So where do you come from?" I asked as I gently shook his hand.

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

"I come from Whisker Town," Y/n said squeaked proudly.

Riddle blushed at the tiny person's cuteness, as his heart fluttered in his chest. Riddle tried to compose himself as he looked away from Y/n while muttering something just loud enough for Y/n to hear.

"If you e-ever need help with something just ask, Okay," Riddle mumbled.

Y/n's eyes widened at the sudden offer, but They smiled none the less.

"Thank you, Riddle, that's very kind of you," Y/n squeaked.

"I-It's cause rule #543 of  Heartslabyul, help your fellow Dormmate. You should memorize all the rules," Riddle said with a snobby pout as his cheeks stayed a slight red. 

"well Thank you nonetheless, Riddle," Y/n smiled.

-------

From that day on Riddle would help Y/n around the school, From helping them get to classes, helping them upstairs, Studing, and other big people tasks. The two would enjoy their study sessions and tea parties together. 

"Y/n that tea cup is too tall and big for you. Your going to fall in," Riddle warned, as he watch the tiny mouse person try to drink from the cup.

"NO, no I got it," Y/n said as he leaned over the lip of the cup.

And just as Riddle warned, Y/n fell into the cup of hot tea. Riddle gasped as he quickly fished out his tiny friend. Y/n coughed up some tea as Riddel craddled them in his hands. Riddle could feel his heart race as Y/n continued to cough up tea, and slowly sit up in Riddles shacky hands..

"I told you not to do that!" Riddle scolded as his heart slowly calmed down.

"In know, but.." Y/n paused, " That was some pretty good tea,"

Trey who was also at the table chuckled slightly as Riddle's face turned red from frustration.

"You could have gotten horribly burned you.. you idiot," Riddle mummled as he put his mouse friend down on the table.

"Sorry Riddle. I didn't mean to scare you like that," Y/n apologized.

"it's fine just don't do that again," Riddle mummbed.

As Riddle spent more time with Y/n, he would notice a few students from their dorm would pick on his favorite tiny friend.

But when he brought it up with the dorm leader, he simply shrugged his shoulders and did nothing. This angered Riddle, as he challenged the Dorm head the next day and won. Making him the youngest dorm head ever.

At first, things were pretty good, Y/n was thankful that Riddle put a stop to the bullying, and it helped them to get along with the other Dormmates. 

But naturally, things slowly started to go downhill. Riddle started to become more and more uptight and strict as the months passed. At first, it wasn't so bad, but then it started to get intense.

When Y/n would be a few minutes late to lunch and drank lemon tea passed a certain time, it was an Instant scolding. If Y/n was fooling around with fellow dormmates st a tea party, is punished by forced to write a 2 paged apology. No one was spared from Riddle's punishment, not even his close friends. Y/n soon found it harder and harder to keep up with all the rules that Riddle enforces.

"Hey Y/n are you feeling okay," Trey asked as he helped his underclassmen up the stairs.

"I don't think I can keep up with Riddle and his rules. Just look at me! How can any think sending a 7-inch tall student, to feed 4 feet tall birds, is a good idea?!" Y/n ranted.

"Well Riddle is just trying to uphold tradition," Trey tried to defend.

"I was almost eaten by a bird yesterday, Trey," Y/n said with an unamused face.

"Well, let's just turn in the apology paper," Trey said not knowing how to respond to that comeback.

"I don't think I want to come back to Heartslabyul anymore," Y/n sighed.

"Y/n don't say stuff like that," Trey whispered.

Little did the two know, Riddle heard everything, and Y/n's words caused Riddle's heart to ache. But he quickly shoved those feeling down and locked his heart as he begrudgingly excepted his Tiny Dormmate apology essay.

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

I can't show lenience towards anyone, rules are equal among everyone. If I have to feed the flamingos, everyone feeds the flamingos. I will show no favoritism to anyone, not even you...Y/n.

But it seemed that Y/n meant what they said, cause the next day was the next unbirthday And Y/n was no where to be seen.  They weren't hiding in the tea pots with the door mouses, or playing tricks on fellow Dormmates. They just vanished, but according to Trey he still sees them around and attending to his classes. They've been spending a lot more time with the nonmagic student Yuu and that trouble some first year, then...me.

No if they wishes to be a lazy traitor, fine. So be it. Yet Why do I feel like I've been abandoned?

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

"are you sure you can beat Riddle, Ace?" I asked as I held onto his magic blocking collar.

"He sounds pretty strong," Yuu said with a worried tone.

"I can totally could take on that shorty," Ace said with a cocky smile.

"This won't end well," I sighed.

And It really didn't; Riddle was able to beat Ace in a second. Ace being Ace started to spout off about the unfairness of Riddle's reign, while starting a miny revolution in the process. Then everything went to hell. 

____

"Riddle , I challenge you to a duel for the Drom head stautes," Y/n squeaked as they hopped off Yuu's shoulder.

"Haha, A tiny thing like you, Face me?" Riddle laughed with a Cocky smile, " Your just as much as a rule breaker as that first-year, and you will always need the help of others just to do basic student activities. I'm so many leagues above you Y/n. You amount to nothing just like Ace," 

Y/n simple glared at the taller boy, but Riddles gaze didn't go noticed from Yuu. He could see some sort of anger and sadness trying to be covered up with pride and regalness. Y/n just glared as Riddle kept on monologing on and on about the rules.

"What sort of lessons were you taught that you can't even understand that?" Riddle smirked, " Your home town, Whisker Town must be tragic. I bet that you didn't even receive proper education before you step foot into this school. Truly Pathetic".

Y/n's eyes began to water at Riddle's words as they started to try hold back their tears of frustration and anger. With a battle cry Y/n dashed towards riddle as their body began to glow and grow.

Suddenley Y/n was Trey's height, as he ran and punched Riddle square in the nose. Everyone was still in shock at Y/n's spontaniouse growth, but Y/n slowly began to shrink and just bearly met Riddles hip .

"It looks like Mantaining that form drains to much of Y/n's energy," Crowley said as he observes his students.

"So Y/n has to limit his magic use, or else they'll get to tired?" Grim asked.

Suddenly an egg was thrown at Riddle, and everything escalated, as Riddle's overblot took control. With a swift hand movement everyone was wearing Riddle's magic blocking collar, and Y/n was forced back to their 7 inch tall body. The sky turned dark and rubble started to float up into the air as Riddle changed and turned into a monster.

"I am.....! I'm ALONE!! I AM THE ONLY ONE WHO IS ALWAYS RIGHT AND DON'T NEED ANYONE!!" Riddle cried out.

"R-Riddle," Y/n gasped at the transform class mate.

"I do not need anyone who defies me in my world. Or leaves me, I am the absoute ruler. My world itself submits to me!" Riddle laughed darkly as he grabbed Y/n by the tail," I will not tolerate any other answer except, "Yes, Lord Riddle."! 

Riddle tossed Y/n hard onto the ground and Y/n's world went dark.

------

"Y/n-san, Y/n-san are you okay?" A voice asked.

Y/n opened their eye's to find themselves in the infirmary, with their head ,left leg, and torso wrapped in banages. 

"Good, your alive. Thank goodness," Yuu sighed in relief.

"What... Happened to Riddle. Is he okay?" Y/n asked slowly.

"Yeah he's fine, You were out for 6 days. Oh and know that your awake, Riddle wanted me to invite you to the unbirthday tomorrow. He wanted to apologise to you," Yuu said.

"Well, umm..... It would rude to turn down an invitation," Y/n smiled wearily.

----------

Riddle sat nervesly at the main table as he waited for Y/n and Yuu's arrival. A tiny tea set and table was set up for them. 

Soon Y/n and Yuu arrived, as Yuu set Y/n down on the table. Y/n held their minature cruches at their side as they sat down at the tiny set up for them. The two sat in an awkward silence till Riddle cleared his throat to call Y/n's attention.

"I-I wanted to say sorry... For the things I said and for hurting you. I let myself get out of hand," Riddle apologized as  tears ran down his cheeks.

Suddenly Riddle felt a gentle hand wipe away his tears. He looked up to see Y/n, but about his height and was smiling down at him with a kind and soft look.

"I Forgive you Riddle, just please don't cry. It doesn't suite you," Y/n smiled as Riddle blushed slightly.

-----------

[willowaudreykeyes]

Red Stains On The Sun

Warnings: Self-harm, bullying mention, racism mention, blood, knife, injury, wing injury (non-permanent), facial scars, paralysis mention, swearing

Medusa-esque Remy, Dragon Janus, Indian Janus

@ladyedwinya​ @sparrowofsong​ @5am-the-foxing-hour​

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

Remy

Despite the amount of coffee that I drink weekly, it’s surprising that I’m not as antsy and jittery as I am right now. The weapons stowed away behind my enchanted sunglasses dart between every person on the street despite my insistence to look between my phone and coffee cup. It’s a Medusa’s instinct I guess; but I don’t have the time to explain why forty people in the street are paralysed in place. I’m uncharacteristically worried and my coffee cup is both too full and too empty for my liking; so I’d only be grumpy and irritated to whatever copper that stopped me.

My best friend, a sarcastic but secretly loving bitch, is way too quiet after the last week of constant tears and comforting, so sue me for being worried about him. The very act of being weak in front of others is so unlike Janus already, and now he’s just silent instead of deflecting the topic by ranting about another or constantly denying the building tears in his eyes. 

It’s strange and I don’t like it.

It’s not normal for Janus to let his calls go to voice mail only an hour after he gets home from school ‒he’d prefer to pick up and tell whatever person who dared call him during his studying hour to fuck off– and even if he had left it to voice mail, he would call back within the hour. It’s been five since I last saw him quickly flying away from school grounds, ignoring me as I called his mobile as he flew away.

I make sure to adjust my glasses properly before rushing on into his apartment building and climbing the stairs, two at a time. I can feel the coffee slosh around in my hand, but that’s what the lid is for. Besides, the carpet is brown enough to not tell the difference between it and a coffee stain. 

The few drops of red just outside of Janus’ apartment door sure is visible against his mostly-yellow welcome mat though.

“Janus!? Jan, babe, open the door!”

After moments without a reply, I press my ear up to the door in the hopes of hearing… something that helps me. His parents haven’t been home in weeks because they’re business assholes who went to Fiji or something, so the light tapping sound that I have to strain to hear must be him. Or maybe a pipe in the wall.

“Jan! I know you’re home, babes! Let me in. Please!?” Nothing but that tapping sound replies back to the increasing franticness of my voice. I wordlessly thank the stupid adults who thought teaching a magic-born teenager how to pick a lock was a good idea and put down my coffee to take out the small bits of metal that live inside my jacket’s inner pocket.

With practiced hands, the door opens in under a minute, and I rush inside once I grab a hold of my cup in my now-shaking hands. The small blood drops lead me straight to the kitchen where a familiar pair of snake-themed socks peek out from behind a counter. 

My heart stops as I race over to them, seeing the dragon-boy attached to them curled up on the floor, knife in one blood covered hand as the other holds a scaled wing at a strange angle. The sun-dipped scales of his wing are hidden behind a smothering of bright blood, along with the scarred warm brown skin that the blood threatens to hide beneath its foulness.

Words trap themselves inside my throat as his brown eyes, the golden sparkles reflecting the red of his blood scarily well, sit unfocused in the wings’ direction while the knife slowly approaches it. He aims it towards a slight cut that’s as close to his shoulder as he can reach, the blood still flowing from it and hiding how deep it truly is.

My coffee is on the floor, and his eyes are on mine just as I realise what his goal is.

“Fuck- Remy, Y… You weren’t supposed to s-see me yet!” His stained red fingers shakily grip onto the knife tighter, yet sink away from the open cut slightly. The shake in his voice is almost like another person, as Janus doesn’t stutter. He doesn’t freak out and cuss freely. Those precise hands of his don’t shake.

But he does. And he is. Oh fuck, he’s really going to do this… 

“Wait, Rem, just… j-just give me… Give me a little longer. Just a b-bit longer...” 

“S-Stop…” The lump in my throat hardens and becomes painful as my legs give out, letting me fall to my knees by his side and take the bloodied knife away from his hand before he can react. He stutters in protest as I throw it over my shoulder, making a loud clang as it hits the bottom of the sink, and I take both his hands into mine. “I don’t want this, Jan.”

“L-Liar…” His throat bobs as he harshly swallows; avoiding my eyes as his wings twitch and try to fit him as they sit in dangerously bad positions. “No o-one wants them… Or me…”

“Those bullies are the fucking liars-”

“I’m a monster, Rem…” Jan sniffs as a few tears manage to shift a small trail of blood down a bit, with their only real achievement being that they’re turning his eyes bloodshot from crying. “You know that I’m adopted… Not even m-my real parents wanted me...”

“I do, dumbass.” 

I shift our hands so that I can hold them both with just one of mine; using the thumb of my free hand to gently turn his head by the chin to look back at me. I can see the small hairs that frame his face begin to fade back to a dark brown instead of the gorgeous gold that he loves to dye, getting stuck to his forehead with blood and sweat. The specks of gold in his eyes now reflect my dark sunglasses, causing his eyes to darken and make their bloodshot nature more prevalent. The slowly forming frown line that grows every time someone pisses him off and causes him to spout out line after line of insults sits behind the blood spatter that managed to cover the majority of it.

How anyone thought of Janus as a monster without getting to really know him, and how amazing of a friend he is behind the sass and self-defensive insults, is the real monster in the world.

“You may be a monster, but so am I. So are the twins… They’re bloodsuckers, babe. Apart from ghouls, they’re the only ones that have to drink actual blood to survive. And my ancestor was a bitch who killed people and made them into badly-posed lawn ornaments.”

“But you don’t have th… these wings! They’re wings of criminals!” Stupid, dragon racism can go fuck itself. “Th-The stupid, fucking scars are ugly and a headache to look at, too...” 

“Your dark scars are prettier than their tanned six-packs and stupid, jock faces could ever be. Plus…” I release his chin to lightly boop him on the nose, gaining a smile as I watch his face scrunch up and show off the dark freckles over his forehead and scarless cheek that manages to peek past the blood. “If your  bestie and close friends think that you’re cute and an amazing person, then who fucking cares about what some assholes say?”

His flustered hiss of reply draws out a short laugh from me. While the hint of a smile plays along his lips for the first time in a while, which is all I need from him for now.

“I-I… I apologi-”

“Uh uh. Shush your face, pretty scales.” I shift, quickly kissing the top of his head before grabbing the bandages and wet rag that sat on the bench behind him that he was probably going to use once the deed was done. The thought sends a shiver down my back, but I ignore it and show the wet rag to him. “I gotta patch and clean you up, carry you to the couch, let you pass out on me, then wake up to buy coffee for us both before I clean up the blood and coffee that would be dry by then– but fuck cleaning it today.”

Caffeine can wait; there’s always another cup of coffee tomorrow; Janus surviving this means more than a measly three dollars. Luckily enough, once the blood slows down I can see that he barely managed to cut through the scales and skin of his wing and that he had hardly gotten to the muscle and nerves. I wouldn’t have a clue on how to tell him that he’s fucked up any future late-night flights, so at least I wasn’t too late to stop him. Although, I’d much prefer it if I didn’t have to see any of his blood.

“If you want to try and cut off a limb again, come talk to me first? Please, Janus?”

“... I’ll try to.”

“That’s all I ask for, babe.” I doubt Janus will ever be open enough to tell us when he needs help, but I’m sure he can become a little better at it. The depressing look in his eyes shows how much he regrets doing this; it was probably a hurried thing from the looks of it. So giving him some cuddles to calm him down as soon as possible will hopefully bring back the sass that I know this snakey-dragon can dish out. “I promise that this won’t take too long, and then we can go have some water and crackers before having a nap.” 

And while we snack, I’m sure I can think of a few ideas on how a half a dozen kids can become ‘accidentally’ completely paralyzed just before their next big sports event...

[janaikam]

This is my fic for the @kagamizine! I really enjoyed writing this and I absolutely love Kagami. This zine was just amazing as a whole and I’m so glad I got to participate! Thank you @masilvi for organizing! Summary: Kagami's trip with her mother took an unexpected turn when she decided to ditch her tutor and have fun with an interesting pair of siblings.

Seven-year-old Kagami stared out the window, watching as the Parisian landscape passed by in a blur. Kagami wasn’t very happy about her mother’s sudden decision to take a trip to Paris. Especially not so soon after losing her dad.

It had only been two months, but it felt like an eternity to Kagami. Her father had been her best friend. He hadn’t been a typical father, but that’s what she loved about him. While her mother started her own successful business, her father took care of her, and they created so many special memories together.

Her mother, not willing to stay in the same town where her husband passed, moved them to Tokyo. It was quite a culture shock because her home town of Nagoya had been quiet compared to Tokyo’s bustling energy. Kagami personally believed that her mother’s decision to move was more business motivated rather than grief, but she wasn’t about to accuse her of doing something so insensitive.

Honestly, everything was happening so fast that Kagami could hardly comprehend it all. Like this trip to Paris; she knew it was one of her mother’s ploys to cheer her up. So far, it wasn’t working. Despite claiming the trip was for both of them, her mother had been in meetings most of the week.

This left Kagami with her French tutor throughout the whole trip. Kagami thought that the woman was nice enough, but she’d rather hang out with someone she was friends with.

“Kagami, we’re here,” her tutor, Yama-sensei, said as the car came to a stop in front of the Trocadero.

Sighing, Kagami dragged herself out of the car to trail after the tutor around the plaza. She hoped that this trip wouldn’t be as boring as the other excursions they had been on previously.

--------

Kagami was proven wrong. Apparently, Yama-sensei knew a lot about the plaza that they were in.

As Yama-sensei was droning on about when the plaza had been built, Kagami noticed two children running around playing a version of tag by zig-zagging through the columns of the Trocadero.

There were a boy and a girl. The boy had dark brown hair with some bright green highlights. He was wearing dark wash jeans and a dark shirt with some band name on it that she couldn’t make out from where she was standing. The girl had straight dark brown hair and was wearing a dark purple dress with black polka dots all over.

While the girl looked to be about Kagami’s age, the boy seemed to be a bit older. If she had to guess, probably by two years.

Watching the two of them play in the Trocadero made her want to join them and have fun. Even if she didn’t know them, it would be so much better than staying here and listening to her tutor recite facts about some battles from long ago.

As if a light switch were flicked, Kagami thought of an idea to get her tutor off her back and to have some fun of her own.

“Hey, Yama-sensei, what’s the history of that pond?” Kagami pointed towards the little pond area in the opposite direction from the two kids.

As expected, her tutor started walking over spouting off some facts that Kagami didn’t care for. Instead of following her, Kagami snuck off to where the two kids were playing.

“Uh, hi,” Kagami said, shyly walking up to the two kids. The girl noticed her first and waved shyly back at Kagami. The boy, who had still been running around, noticed that his friend wasn’t behind him and turned around and saw Kagami standing there.

“Hi!” he greeted brightly, waving along with the girl. “I’m Luka and this is my sister, Juleka. What’s your name?”

“Kagami! Where did you go?” It seemed that her tutor noticed her absence, and that wasn’t a good thing.

“Could you hide me from her?”

The siblings nodded and gently urged Kagami behind one of the many pillars surrounding the plaza. She ducked down a bit and the siblings covered her body so other people wouldn’t be able to see her.

From her position, she watched as Yama-sensei’s black flats hurriedly walked away from the plaza.

Kagami let out the breath she didn’t know that she was holding. “Thank you, I really appreciate you doing this for me.”

“No problem. So why are you hiding from that woman?” Luka asked, reaching down to help Kagami up.

“She’s my tutor. She’s supposed to be taking me to all the places I wanted to see in Paris, but all we’ve done is gone to all these boring places,” Kagami explained. “I just wanted a little break is all.”

“Well, Jules and I don’t have to be home for another three hours, so we could show you around our little Paris.”

Kagami’s eyes lit up at the prospect. She had been planning on just asking to hang out with the siblings at the Trocadero, but having them show her around the city was something completely unexpected and surprisingly welcome.

“I would love to join you!”

--------

Their first stop was the Pont des Arts. There was a surprisingly large amount of people at the bridge, but Kagami assumed it was just that popular.

On the walk over, Kagami learned that Juleka was very shy and often mumbled her words when she wanted to say something. Luka was able to perfectly understand his sister, but Kagami was still having trouble trying to understand her.

Juleka mumbled something and pointed over to a crowd of people.

“Oh, you’re right, that is Andre!” Luka translated for Kagami.

“Who’s Andre?” Kagami knew a few things about Paris, but Andre was an unfamiliar name.

“He sells the best ice cream in Paris. He’s really famous for his lover’s ice cream. If two people share it together then they’re supposed to be together forever,” Luka explained. “He’s a really nice dude and he sometimes gives us free ice cream just ’cause.”

Luka walked over to the crowd and right up to the front of the cart. Kagami was somewhat surprised at Luka’s forwardness, but when he walked back a minute later with three small ice cream cups, Kagami couldn’t complain.

“Let’s go sit over there.” Luka pointed towards a bench in the middle of the bridge, away from the crowd at Andre’s.

Kagami nodded and followed as Luka led the way.

When they got to the bench, Luka held out the ice creams he had gotten. From what she could tell, her choices were vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry. Kagami picked up the ice cream that looked like vanilla and Luka passed the strawberry one to Juleka.

Taking the little spoon from the cone, Kagami took a small bit of the ice cream. The sweet flavors of the vanilla filled her mouth and caused her to hum in satisfaction. She noticed that there was a slight orange aftertaste, which made everything all the better.

“This is the best ice cream ever,” Kagami said, quicking grabbing another spoonful to put in her mouth.

“Yup! Andre’s ice cream never fails to amaze.” Luka grinned, taking a bite of his cone.

--------

“Welcome to Place des Vosges Park!” Luka announced as their little party walked through the gates.

“This is where Luka comes to lie in the grass and cry,” Juleka whispered, coming up beside Kagami.

Kagami couldn’t help but giggle at Juleka’s statement as Luka tried to defend himself, but it was too late. She could already imagine the dark-haired boy lying in the grass with tears streaming down his face.

“ANYWAYS, is there anything you would like to do here? There’s a lot that goes on in the park. Sometimes there's a show, and then there's also the playground and the merry-go-round.”

Kagami’s eyes lit up at the mention of the merry-go-round. She had heard so many fun stories from people back home about how the rides were fun and magical. Merry-go-rounds weren’t very popular in Japan, so she always dreamed of the day she would be able to ride on one.

“The merry-go-round!”

Luka and Juleka laughed at her obvious excitement but led her over to it nonetheless.

There wasn’t a long wait for the next ride, and the trio was able to get on without a problem.

There were so many different-looking horses that Kagami had trouble picking one to get on. In the end, she ended up picking a tall white one with a golden mane.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t as tall as the horse, so she had trouble getting on. After her third failed attempt, she turned to go find another horse, but a pair of arms wrapped themselves around her waist and lifted her up onto the horse.

Turning around, Kagami saw that it was Luka who helped her up. He gave her a thumbs up to confirm that she was comfortable and she smiled back.

It didn’t take long for the ride to start up, and it was amazing. From her horse, Kagami was able to see most of the park when it lifted up. She watched as the carousel spun around, making the park slightly blurry.

Letting go of the post on the horse, Kagami held out her hands and closed her eyes. It was so easy for her to imagine herself flying on top of a pegasus and it felt just as magical.

--------

After riding on the merry-go-round, the trio spent a couple more hours playing in the park with some of the other kids.

It was definitely an experience Kagami would never forget. She had never played with kids her age back home, so it was a welcome change of pace.

A girl named Rose was teaching her a hand game when they were interrupted by a soft grumbling coming from Kagami’s stomach. Luka, who had been next to her, smiled softly and lifted himself off of the ground.

“It is getting a little late. We can go grab something to eat and then take you back to your hotel.” Luka reached out his hand to help Kagami up. Luka waved over to Juleka, and she quickly said goodbye to the kids she was playing with.

“It was really nice meeting you!” Kagami waved goodbye to Rose and followed Luka out of the park.

As it turned out, they were just going across the street to a bakery: Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie.

“They have some of the best pastries in Paris. Trust me,” Luka said, opening the door. And she did. After all, he was right about Andre’s ice cream.

Immediately, the scent of freshly baked bread and sweetness filled her nose. She couldn’t really explain why, but the smell felt like home.

There wasn’t really a line, just one woman with her son. They were just finishing up their order and Kagami was able to get a glance at the boy. He was blonde and looked about her age. When their eyes met, he quickly hid behind his mother’s leg.

His mother just looked down and laughed. She grabbed her order and ushered her son back outside.

“Hello,” the friendly woman behind the counter greeted. “What would you like?”

Luka ordered three croissants for them with various jams while Kagami and Juleka looked at the pastry case. They all looked so good, and she couldn’t help but want to try all of them.

She noticed a young girl behind the glass with a tray of pastries in her arms. She seemed to be filling the case. When the girl caught Kagami’s gaze, she waved and gave Kagami a big smile. Kagami waved back and the girl resumed her task.

“That’s Marinette. She goes to school with me,” Juleka informed Kagami. “She’s really nice.”

Kagami looked back at Marinette, who had finished filling the cabinet, as she walked towards the back of the bakery.

--------

Kagami had yet to eat her pastry as Luka rushed them out of the bakery after paying. It had apparently gotten later than they expected, and Juleka and Luka needed to be home soon.

They wanted to properly send Kagami off, so they decided to walk her to Le Grande Paris. The siblings claimed that it was on their way home. Kagami didn’t buy it, but she let it drop. After all, she wasn’t ready to leave her new friends just yet.

Sadly, the hotel came into view too quickly for Kagami’s liking.

Turning to her new friends, she held back the tears that were forming in her eyes. She was a Tsurugi. She would not cry.

“Thank you for this amazing day. I am so fortunate that I met you two today.” Kagami sniffed and wiped her eyes.

“I think I speak for both of us when I say we’re glad to have made a friend in you today.”

Kagami grabbed Luka and Juleka and pulled them into a hug. It was probably one of the warmest hugs she had had in a long time.

Pulling away, Juleka mumbled something under her breath and Luka nodded. “Juleka says next time you’re in Paris you should try and find us. We live on a houseboat, so it shouldn’t be too hard to find.”

“Until we meet again.” Kagami smiled, slowly backing away into the hotel. She promised herself the next time she was in Paris, she would sneak off to find Juleka and Luka. She wanted to see her first friends again.

[739337369137371082]

Hey so I found u thru the Halved Live Funnies and I gotta ask... whose Leon? What series these dudes from?

i got this ask and then forgot about it for like 2 days. anyways.

IVE ANSWERED THIS BEFORE BUT. GOD. LEON. ok so like....... long story short last year was when i first played resident evil........ bc we got a copy of re2remake in and.... jesus christ. i hyperfixated so fucking hard for the better part of a year going on into this year. and then i watched hl/vr and well. we know where that went. but now i am once again hyperfixated and now im back to where i was in like.... june of last year LMAO. but anyways i am once again going to ramble under the cut about them <3 (seriously. its very long and doesnt go much of anywhere. also spoilers)

tl/dr:

OK. SO. resident evil. the last time i answered this ask i either hadnt played some of them or just completely forgot the plot of others LOL but now upon beating/playing a large majority of them (besides 6 which i have not touched yet, and 7 is first person and im not rly interested in it rn)...... well others have said this as well but if you like cheesy b action movies you would love resident evil!!! 

the orig 1-2 are more survival horror which is what i like the most. 3 is where it starts branching into more actiony stuff but is still survival horror. but 4 and after is just like..... cheesy action stuff which is fine but not really like.... my thing. altho i do think that they are fun in a “this plot is hilariously bad” type way because i do enjoy horrible things. but people who like resident evil dont like it for the plot they like it for the characters. and for me i latched the fuck onto leon kennedy and tyrant t-00 aka mr fucking x

listen.......... you guys know me relatively well enough to know that i have a type......... and i would define leon as not really fitting under it usually because he is 1. under 6 foot 2. human and 3. very much not a villain. but something about (mostly remake) leon hits fucking different!!!!!! hes kind and means well, thinks about others constantly, looks like an actual fucking person in the in game graphics instead of being some manufactured perfect model, nice voice, etc....... i fucking care him so much. also gameplay wise i find his weapons to be more enjoyable than claires so i always end up playing his route/2nd route the most compared to hers. but i do also like claire :) shes nice and epic

i dont really like the newer leons (4 and afterwards) as much.... i mean a lot of it has to do with trauma and general “growing up” after what happened in re2 but hes just so constantly... snarky? jaded? constantly spouting lines to make him seem cool? when in my head hes very much like... a loser LMAO. i mean dont get me wrong hes a badass. he survives a fucking zombie outbreak and nearly gets murdered dozens of time. thats the definition of badass. but also you cannot change my mind that hes also a anxious loser twunk. there is literally nothing you can do to convince me he is “cool” like the games and movies want to think. this is probably heresy to re fans but this is my truth

https://youtu.be/aVZWuSfGStk?t=129

here is a vid of his cutscenes. obvious spoilers in there but you can skip around and see how cute he is. also yes in his first cutscene he is listening to butt rock. i switch between thinking hes just listening to it because nothing else is on the radio or his taste really is that terrible

also you literally CANNOT convince me that he is straight. the games try SOOOOO hard to get you to ship leon/ada or leon/claire but like...... i cannot see it. he has one of the gayest run animations i have ever seen in re2 remake and i mean... he just radiates gay trans man energy to me. also please look at this small scene from one of the animated movies where a licker jumps on top of him and he wraps his legs around its hips and lifts it off of him to not die. gay king

https://youtu.be/d-VNikxYBPw?t=9

but yes ive basically decided to ignore all characterization from re4 and onwards regarding leon at least. every leon after that is not my leon (except in special cases when im thinking about something like leon/jd from re damnation..... they did jd so dirty and they should have fucking kissed. or how cute he looked in vendetta sometimes)

ANYWAYS. MR X

so basically there are these enemies in resident evil called “tyrants” that are manufactured by the evil capitalist company umbrella that are near indestructible save for like.... rocket launchers or super heavy artillery that youre not buying at your local gun store. and in re2 one of them get sent to the police station where leon and claire are and is told to wipe out all witnesses. (i also do think that 2 or more were sent there... or at least in the area when this happened due to some very obvious plot hole stuff on each route no matter how you play, even tho the devs have come out and said that only 1 existed in the game and that each route is like “a parallel dimension” to each other. i wont go into it more than that but i choose to ignore that)

and well. when i first played it i knew of mr x but didnt like... know much about him other than that he was a monster and Tall (like 7 or 8 feet tall) and that he chased you around. that already sold me on him but then. well. you first encounter him because he lifts up an entire goddamn helicopter and then proceeds to chase you. and it was then that i knew i was in deep shit because he fucking stomped his way into my heart and never left.

mr x basically has serious Side Character Disorder where (even tho the remake made him very cool and epic and did him really well compared to nemesis in re3 remake which is an entire different can of worms) he has LITERALLY no personality or like. thoughts. or anything. hes only there to chase you around and be on screen for like 10 seconds for a couple of cutscenes and then not show up again until the very end of the game for you to fight on leons route. but god. he means so fucking much to me. 

you know how people latch onto random side characters that have no personality and essentially flesh them out more than the creators ever will? thats me with mr x. its gotten to the point where certain songs come on on my spotify and i actually get EMOTIONS or even TEARS because they remind me of him, but its not even really HIM, its the fucking ideas that ive come up with regarding him because all he ever does in game is chase you around and punch you and then die and is never brought up again

but anyways. mr x is a tall monster who chases leon and claire around in their routes but mr x is leons main monster in the game (claire has a different one). he chases leon around, literally never stops looking at him as he chases him, gets hit by an entire fucking car which then explodes BUT THEN chases him down into the sewers and into a secret underground lab just to get to him like a fucking bloodhound who, once he has the scent, will never stop chasing him

(you can see why this made me kind of insane)

just. AGHHH. the tyrants in this series get treated so dirty. i desperately want capcom to give us some sort of tyrant that can actually fucking like.... go against orders and brainwashing or whatever and actually have emotions and thoughts!!!!!!!!!! but capcom would never do anything with it cause its a rough and tough action series and people arent here to see tyrants have some sort of thought process beyond punching and killing and people only want to shoot guns at them instead of thinking about the possibilities of a tyrant that goes against its programming.

i so desperately want an au where mr x got the transmitter shot off of the side of his head (and while capcom never mentioned this ever many re2 fans have since decided that it is what feeds info/orders to him. i flip flop between thinking that it either is near controlling him and prevents free will and thought or that its just giving him orders and that hes just burying/hiding/not showing free will and thought in fear of being killed. either that or someone at umbrella is “piloting” him but also the whole point of tyrants is that theyre supposed to be smart enough to think for themselves somewhat so... eh). GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!

ive explained a bunch of this stuff in my other ask about it but just...... xleon means so much to me when it should not and will never be actually canon

anyways please play re2 remake at least, you dont have to know everything about re1 to like it, just go into it knowing that a few months ago in the mountains outside raccoon city claires brother chris and a few members on his team went to a mansion where they discovered umbrella doing shady zombie shit there. re2 remake was hyped up for years for a reason and it is really good, even if its short (altho i do appreciate short games in this day and age cause not every game needs to be like 60 plus hours long). 

maybe one day when its not late and i can actually think i will explain all this better but todays not that day <3

(EDIT: ALSO RE DAMNATION TYRANTS ARE 14 FEET TALL. AND CHASE AROUND LEON AND ACTUALLY FUCKING RUN. FUN FACT! anyways while i do think jd in that movie and leon should kiss i also want leon and a tyrant from that movie to kiss. bye)

[7soulstars]

Little Things Lead to Exchanged Rings

Pairing : Avenger ! Loki x Avenger ! Reader

Warnings : Blood , Violence , Mentions of death, Death,Tiny bit of Angst, Fluff , shy and slightly insecure Loki

Summary : Y/N star gazing from the balcony causes Loki to remember little things as he proceeds to make an impulsive decision.

.............

Loki strutted across the tower, searching for a particular woman as he moved past the other Avengers as they rushed to grab their supplies. "Where is she ?", the God asked as he walked towards the man who had brought him into this timeline. Dr. Strange , a past lover of hers. " She is where you always assume her to be", the time traveller replied hastily , not bothering to even Look at Loki. The God took a left, walking faster ,only reducing his pace on seeing her figure. Her back faced towards him as she stood in the balcony, her body clad in her combat suit, the very suit he saw her in the first time he joined the Avengers.

Back when Strange brought him and the rest into this timeline, after the endgame, he brought along a new face. Y/N . A goddess from another universe, with a body indestructible, and healing powers like none other. She had lived, as if in a loop, watching and guarding mortals she loved and crying and breaking every time they died. Eventually hiding, when the Earth she loved needed her the most . But Strange convinced her , and there she was ,being surrounded by the Avengers who hated Loki for his past. She had looked him her brows furrowed, walking past the rest making her way towards him , offering her hand to him as she smiled her eyes empty of emotions. "Hello I'm Y/N of Lestradia, Goddess of Medicine and Emotions".

Y/N intrigued him , to say the least ,to the others she was distant but they liked her nonetheless . Her eyes never showed emotions , as if they left along with the people she had lost . They didn’t speak much to each other but they often found themselves beside each other ,as if in a safe space.

Loki rembered the time he found himself in tears as he sat alone in his room , during Frigga’s death anniversary . Y/N had rushed to his room her hands wrapping around his crying figure absorbing his sadness and regret , as he wept into her stomach. To Loki, an unbreakable bond had been formed that day . The very balcony she stood in right now had been their secret spot , a place away from the rest .

 The rest of the team could never label their relationship, well, not untill the first mission they had gotten after the endgame , when HYDRA was back in the circus. An agent shot Loki in the shoulder . “LOKI ! “,screamt Y/N as she watched him fall . In a second 14 agents dropped dead baffling he other Avengers. It was Y/N, wings spouting out of her back , her eyes blood red ,no irises. Anger. The first emotion she expressed .And that was not a good sign. Even The Hulk had stood frozen as he watched her decapitate everything that was in her way eventually ending the war. “We need to stop her Strange”, Steve had panicked. “I can stop her”, Loki somehow choked out ,as the world seemed to blur around him. Strange had acted fast ,trapping Y/N and Loki in a mirror dimension as they watched her scream in anger only stopping when she saw Loki smiling at her as he faded into darkness. They watcher her cry out in worry as she extracted the bullet out of him and drained all her energy into healing the  wound before fainting herself as the other gained conciousness.

Loki had stayed beside her side as she rested waking to soft cries as she rambled on about hurting people . That day was Loki’s turn to let her cry into him.They didn’t need any label ,they never thought about it. They simply accepted each other for who they were and Loki was grateful for that.

Loki took a deep breath before walking to join the woman as she gazed at the scattered diamonds in the galaxy, a sweet smile dancing across her full lips, this time her eyes full of innocence. She turned her head to his direction .”Loki...”,his name left her lips as if sweet music . “Ready for tomorrow ?”,he asked her,leaning across the railing. “War is something I will never be ready for, it is something I wish I never needed to be ready for.”, her expression faltering to a soft frown making Loki sigh at her pure intentions.

”I....had something to....ask of you.”,Loki said as he took her hands in his as she looked at him with a confused expression. “ I have been pondering upon something...which is very critical to my existence....I have always thought I could never find love. *scoffs* hel I couldn’t even find it within my family.But...after making ...amends...with my brother and the rest and meeting you....I may have changed a bit of my thinking. And I realised that my thread of destiny is in my own hands.....And I can change it if I want to. You told me they’ll forgive me, and that it was never too late to be on the good side. But I always wonder is it though? “,Y/N placed her palms on either sides of his face as he made an expression of self loathing “After all the disgusting things I have done, you and brother say that I could just waltz my way back , to the good side as if it never happened . The mortal lives...that went through misery...because of ME”, he spat, “Everything has a price to pay. And I haven’t paid mine, not yet. But I will , in this war, by saving as many as I could. And once I do, I want you ,to be along side me.” “Loki I have always been along side you I always will”, whispered Y/N in worry as Loki took her hands back in his shaking his head.”No..Not like that...I want you to fight by me.....I mean- Goddamnit-......I know this is out of nowhere but ......*takes a deep breath before looking into her eyes* I want your hand in marriage......I am asking to marry you...I have my my eyes on no one....but you. And- And it’s been this way from a long time....but I hadn’t had the words to sy it...hell, I was foolish enough to even realise how I felt....but now I do. And if it’s not too late, I’d like to go back , I’d like to see how the light side looks like ...with you.....Oh my Goodness I shouldn’t have done that but Asguardians fall in love once and- hmmpf”, Y/N had cut his off guard, her lips on his as they shared their first kiss, as tears brimmed her eyes.They parted, her hand on his chest his his,holding her by the waist. “Is that...a yes...did I do it right ?” , Loki teased earning a playful whack on his chest.”Yes silly ! Although we are skipping the courting part..But I wouldn’t have it any other way...my trickster...LOKI !”,he had lifted her spinning her around as he kissed her one more time. 

From inside the tower the rest watched in awe , turning their heads to look at Strange who simply shrugged turning his back to them saying "Let's get this war over with , we wouldn't want to have to postpone a wedding would we?

Inspired by this video:

https://youtu.be/GsGzjTUwcVY

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[youcancallmecirce]

Avatar AU: The Lost Firebender Ch 5: The Waterbending Scroll

Katara tries to teach Zuko what she knows about waterbending, but he finds it to be a greater challenge than he expected.

beta read by Aya.

Ch 1 * Ch 2 * Ch 3 * Ch 4 * Ch 5 on AO3

     *     *     *     *     *     

They left Kyoshi early the next morning.  The acrid scent of coal smoke heralded the approach of a Fire Nation ship, and whether it was Zhao or not, they didn’t want to be anywhere near it.  

It didn’t change their plans much, as they’d planned on leaving that day anyway.  They woke that morning on the floor of the dojo and, once the threat had been recognized, breakfasted quickly on fried dough as they packed their things.  Fortunately, Katara and Zuko had been able to procure a few old blankets from the villagers the night before and they carried these along with the rest of their things down to the beach.   

Fang was restless, but held himself still as they spread the blankets over his back and strapped the saddle in place.

“I’m sorry my friend,” Zuko murmured as he yanked the last strap tight.  He moved up to Fang’s head and stroked his snout.  “These blankets should help, at least until we can get some padding stitched onto the saddle itself.”

Fang nudged Zuko’s chest affectionately, accepting his apology, prompting a faint smile to curve his lips. 

Katara tried not to think about that faint smile, or the way the hint of joy transformed the harsh angles of his face.  

Smile or no, he was still a jerk.

Suki, who had been completely won over by Sokka’s willingness to swallow his pride, sent them on their way with a bag of provisions and a wave.  

“Why didn’t you tell them that you’re the Avatar?” Katara asked when they were airborne, heading in the direction Suki had indicated.  They were arranged on Fang’s back with Katara sandwiched protectively between Zuko in the front and her brother behind.  It was not the most comfortable way to travel, squished as she was, but she had a feeling she’d have to get used to it.  “They might have been more receptive to your presence, if they knew.”

“Why didn’t you tell them?” he asked in answer, his voice tight.  “For the same reason I didn’t: they wouldn’t have believed me.”

“It would give people hope, knowing you’re still alive.”

Zuko scoffed bitterly.  “Hope?  From a firebender?”

“Not just a firebender, Zuko.  You’re the Avatar.”

“Some Avatar,” Zuko scoffed.  “I let my people ravage the world for a hundred years, and now that I’m here, I can’t even do anything about it.  The only thing I know how to bend is fire--the thing that everyone else has come to hate.”

“He’s not wrong,” Sokka put in.  

“You’re not helping,” Katara said over her shoulder.  

Sokka shrugged.  “Just calling it like I see it.”

Katara rolled her eyes.  “You need to learn the other bending forms, right?”  Zuko nodded curtly, but said nothing.  “Well, I need someone to help me learn waterbending.  What if we look for a Water master among the Northern Water Tribe? That way, we can both learn.”

Zuko’s frown deepened.  “I think I’m supposed to learn airbending next.”

“You are?” she asked, surprised.  “Why?  Why does it matter?”

Zuko shrugged.  “Something about the Avatar cycle, and the progression of the elements,” he said.  “I don’t really remember much about it, just that Master Roku kept talking about sending me to the Western Air Temple.”

“Oh.”  She mulled this over for a few minutes, trying to consider their options from a logical perspective.  “Well,” she said slowly, “The last we heard, the few surviving Air Nomads had abandoned their temples to hide from the Fire Nation, so we don't know where to find an air master.”  Zuko stiffened at the mention of his people, but Katara pretended not to notice.  “We do have a good idea of where to look for a Water Master, though, since we know that the Northern Tribe hasn’t fallen.”

“Unless they have, and we just haven’t heard about it yet.”  

“You’re still not helping, Sokka!”

“But he’s right,” Zuko said, sagging a bit in the saddle.  It put his back flush against the front of Katara’s body, and he snapped back to his previous, rigid posture. 

Katara pretended not to notice that, anymore than she’d noticed his almost smile.  “Well, we have to go somewhere,” she snapped, more tartly than she’d intended.  She took a breath, and said more calmly, “Heading north at least gives us a goal, right?  We can always change our plans if we find an air bender, or find out that---that--” She swallowed, unwilling to consider that her sister tribe might have suffered the same fate hers had.  “We can always change our plans later.”

“Works for me,” Sokka said.  It didn’t make much difference to him, after all.  He wasn’t a bender.

“Zuko?” Katara prompted when he said nothing.

“Alright,” Zuko agreed.  

Another thought occurred to Katara, though she hesitated before speaking it aloud.  Zuko wasn’t exactly the gentlest person she’d ever met, and she wasn’t keen on giving him the opportunity to deride her again.  Still, the practice might be helpful to her, as well.

“I don’t know very much about waterbending,” she said a few minutes later, once she’d plucked  up the courage to offer, “but I could try to teach you what I’ve figured out so far.”  She held her breath then, waiting for his inevitable dismissal, but he surprised her.

“You’d...do that?”

She blinked, thrown off by his unexpected response.  “I--yes, of course.  I want to help, and I need the practice anyway.”

“Thank you,” he said softly, surprising her again. 

Sokka huffed.  Well that’s nice, but what am I supposed to do while you two splash around in a puddle?”  

Zuko shrugged.  “Keep Fang company?” he suggested.

The dragon growled at the mention of his name, and Sokka reached down to gingerly pat what he could reach of Fang’s hide.  “What do you say, Fang?  Can we be friends?”  Fang growled again, louder this time, and Sokka snatched his hand back.  “Was that a yes, or a no?” he asked Zuko.

Zuko smirked and cast a look back over his shoulder.  “I’m not sure,” he said, enjoying the uncertainty in the other boy’s expression.  “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Sokka’s eyes narrowed, and his tone was dry. “You’re a cruel man, Zuko.  A cruel, cruel man.”  

They reached the shore of the Earth Kingdom by midday, just as Suki had said they would.  They stopped long enough to eat a quick lunch--”I miss fire flakes,” Zuko lamented, staring at another ball of fried dough--then continued northwest along the shore.  By late afternoon, when Zuko spied a waterfall-fed pool in a clearing, all four of them were ready to stop for the day.

“I’m sore in places I didn’t know could be sore,” complained Sokka, stretching.  “No offense Fang, but you’re no polar bear dog.”

Fang blew a brief bit of flame from his nose, and Sokka leapt back. “Not- not that I’m complaining, mind you,” he lied.  

Zuko smirked.  “I don’t think Fang appreciated your comment,” he said, stretching his own sore muscles.

“Polar bear dogs can’t fly or breathe fire,” Katara pointed out mollifyingly, approaching the dragon.  “Will you let me unbuckle the saddle?” she asked him.

Fang regarded her for a moment with intelligent gold eyes, then lowered himself to the ground.  Katara took it for the acquiescence it was, and began tugging at the straps.

“He likes you,” Zuko said with some surprise.  Fang wasn’t exactly a social creature.

Katara shrugged.  “I like him, too.”  She undid the last buckle and heaved the saddle from the dragon’s back.  “There you go,” she panted when she’d dropped it to the ground.  “Did the blankets help?”  She bent to examine the place behind Fang’s leg, and was pleased to see that the chafing hadn’t gotten any worse, at least.  

She turned to Zuko with a smile.  “Do you want to try waterbending?”

It didn’t go well.

“This is the first move I learned,” Katara began.  “It took me months to perfect, so don’t get discouraged if you don’t get it right away.  You just push and pull the water, like this.”   The water at her feet began to move, ebbing and rising with her movements.

Zuko watched her intently for a few minutes, then attempted to copy her movements.  Nothing happened.  He grit his teeth and tried again, determined to get it, but the water didn’t so much as twitch in answer to him.

Katara stopped bending to watch his technique.  “You’re being too jerky, I think,” she offered.  “The key is to get the wrist movements just right.”

“Actually, this could be fun,” Sokka said, sitting down at the base of a tree to watch.  “It hadn’t occurred to me that these lessons might be entertaining.”

Katara and Zuko glared at him, and he mimed tying his lips closed before putting his hands behind his head and looking at Zuko with an expectant expression.

Katara shook her head; Zuko scowled.

“Try again,” Katara prompted.

He tried again, with the same result.  “Like this,” she said, reaching for his hands.  “You have to make the motion more fluid.”

He jerked back with a growl.  “I’m not a child,” he snapped.

“I know that,” she said, frowning.  “I was just--”

“Maybe you should try showing me a different move,” he suggested, interrupting her.

“But this one is the most basic--”

“Maybe it was for you, but it’s clearly not working for me!”

“Alright, how about this one?”  She bent a small amount of water from the pond and stretched it into a ribbon.  “I call this streaming the water.”

Again, Zuko studied her movements carefully, noting the way she shifted her weight and twisting of her hands, before attempting it for himself.

The water ignored him.

“Aargh!” he yelled, blowing a brief spout of flame into the air.  “This is ridiculous.  Are you sure you’re showing me the correct forms?”

“Me?” Katara said, her eyes widening.  “I told you that I’m entirely self-taught!  I’m doing the best I can!”

“Well, it’s not good enough!” he snarled, clenching his fists.  “Show me another one!”

“Excuse me,” Katara said, crossing her arms. “You’re the one trying to bend water with your fire forms!”

“Prime entertainment,” Sokka said.  “I could sell tickets!”

“Shut up, Sokka!” they both yelled without looking at him.

“I have never once bent fire like this!” Zuko went on.  “Fire bending requires force and intent!”  He punched out with his fist, sending a gout of flame out towards the center of the pool.  “There’s nothing slow or gentle about it!”

“Exactly!  Your movements are too sharp.  You have to actually bend your body in order to bend water.”

She demonstrated the first form again, exaggeratedly slowing her movement so that he could see the way her arms echoed the waving motion she created in the water.

“I am bendng my body!” Zuko snapped, carelessly imitating her move.  “See?  My arms are bent!”

“But not--”

“Cleary, my teacher is deficient.” he spat, crossing his own arms. 

“What‽” Katara screeched, and noted somewhere in the back of her mind that she had never screeched so much before meeting Zuko.  “You’re blaming your failure on me?”

“This was obviously a bad idea.” He moved to where the saddle & harness still sat near Fang, and began untying his pack with harsh, staccato movements.  “I should have just waited for a real water master.”

With a shriek of rage, Katara bent a large wave out of the pond and brought it crashing down over Zuko’s head.  “My only mistake was in trying to help you, you jerk!” she shouted.

Unfortunately, she’d not been discerning in where she put the water, and she doused both Fang and Sokka along with the prince.  Fang reared back, shaking water from his face, and Sokka leapt to his feet with a yell.  

Zuko spun on her, his clothing steaming ominously.

“Watch it, Katara!”  Sokka complained.  “Why is it that every time you play with magic water, I end up getting soaked?”

“Congratulations Katara,” Zuko added acidly.  “You just dumped water all over our supplies.”

“I--I’m sorry,” Katara stammered, flushed with embarrassment.  “I didn’t mean--”  She sagged.  “I can try to bend the water out of our clothes and such, but the food is probably ruined.”

“You’re ‘sorry’?” Zuko scoffed.  “‘Sorry’ isn’t going to replace our food!”

“Don’t worry about it Katara,” Sokka said, wringing water from his tunic and glaring at Zuko.  “We still have a little money left, right? I saw a village nearby before we landed, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

They found the town just as the day’s light turned golden.  Katara had been able to dry their things, mostly, and Sokka was right about being able to replace their food.  They were even able to find a bit more variety at the market there, which pleased Zuko.

Not that he would admit it.

However, the strange old man who had been dogging their steps ever since they’d arrived was a different story.  “I swear, that old man is following us,” he said, glancing behind him.

“You’re being paranoid,” Katara said.  

“No, I think he’s right,” Sokka said.  “He keeps turning up wherever we are, and he’s definitely staring.”

Katara followed her brother’s gaze, and saw the same old man they’d noticed before.  And it was definitely the same man.  His bright orange robes, bald head and faded blue arrow tattoos were too distinctive to mistake.  He met her eyes and waved, grinning. “So what if he is?” she said, waving back.  “He seems friendly, and he's just an old man.”

“He’s creepy,” Sokka said.

Zuko nodded his agreement.  “I don’t like it.  The sooner we’re out of here, the better.”

They had everything they needed, so they turned back in the direction of their camp.  They hadn’t gone far when one of the many hawkers they’d passed leapt into their path with a grand gesture.  “Oh-ho!  You there!  I saw you before, and now you’re back.   I can see from your clothing that you're world-traveling types.  We specialize in bargains from every nation! Perhaps I can interest you in some exotic curios?”

Zuko frowned discouragingly at the man.  “We’re not interested,” he said.

“What are curios?” Sokka asked at the same time.

The hawker focused his attention on Sokka, immediately recognizing him as the most easily swayed.  “I'm not entirely sure,” the man admitted, putting a friendly arm around Sokka’s shoulders and steering him towards the docks.  “But we got 'em!  Come on over, and have a look.”

Katara shrugged.  “Why not?” she asked, and fell in step behind her brother.

Zuko growled, releasing a bit of smoke with his irritated breath, and did the same.

The man led them to a ship, and proudly showed them to a large cabin on the main deck.  It was packed with odds and ends stacked in piles, arranged haphazardly on shelves, and evenhanding from the ceiling.  The siblings wandered around the floating shop, examining this and that as it caught their eye, but Zuko’s attention was immediately drawn to a pair of dao broadswords on the aft wall.  He’d been in far too much of a hurry to grab his swords when he’d fled his father’s schemes, and he missed their comforting weight at his back.

Katara’s gasp had him whirling away from the swords.  “It’s a waterbending scroll!” she said, her voice bright with excitement.  “Zuko, look!  This could help us!”

“I already told you it was a bad idea,” he said crossly.  She ignored him, and turned to the man who’d led them there.

“How much for the waterbending scroll?” she asked.

“I already have a buyer for that scroll,” said a new voice.  A tall man with long grey hair, a broad hat and an iguana parrot on his shoulder smiled at them, but his smile was cold and calculating.  “Unless, of course, you happen to have 200 gold pieces on you right now.”

“Oh,” Katara said in dismay.

“Don’t worry sis, I know how to handle this guy.”  Sokka turned to the man with an ingratiating smile.  “You seem like a reasonable man, my friend!  What would you say to the price of one copper piece‽” Sokka held up the coin with a flourish.

The man stared at him blankly for a moment, then burst out in uproarious laughter. “The price is two hundred gold pieces,” he said, wiping a tear of mirth from his cheek. “I don't haggle on items this rare.”

Zuko’s eyes narrowed.  “How did you come by a water bending scroll, anyway?” he asked.

“Oh, I picked it up while we were traveling up north,” the man said evasively.

“Alright,” Sokka continued, now holding up a pair of coins.  “How about two copper pieces?”

The man frowned.  “It's not as amusing the second time, boy,” he snapped.

Katara tugged at her brother’s arm.  “I think maybe we should go,” she said, looking around uncomfortably.  “I feel like we're getting weird looks.”

“I agree,” Zuko said.  “I didn’t want to come here in the first place.”

“Fine,” Sokka said with poorly concealed disappointment.  “But I still think we could have talked him down.”

Katara walked swiftly down the gangway and began to almost run when she reached the dock.  Zuko grabbed her arm to slow her, but only a little.  He was walking very quickly as well.

“What’s with you guys?”  Sokka asked.

“Those guys aren’t honest traders,” Zuko said.  “They’re pirates.”

“Pirates!” Sokka echoed, coming to a dead stop in the middle of the dock. “Why didn’t you say something before?”

“Now’s not the time,” Zuko said, grabbing his arm.

“Come on!” added Katara, looking anxiously behind them.

“There they are!” someone yelled from the ship they’d just left.  

Zuko recognized the voice of the hawker, and cursed.  “Let’s go, Water boy!”

Sokka looked back only long enough to see a whole crew’s worth of pirates swarming from the ship, and then took off with a yelp.

It was full dark before they were able to escape the pirates completely, and make their way back to the camp. Thankfully, the moon was bright and allowed them to make their way without any additional light, which would have given away their position.

“What the heck was that all about?” Sokka asked, dropping to the ground beneath the same tree he’d reclined against earlier.  “Why did they chase us like that?”

Katara blushed, looking both guilty and pleased.  “It probably had something to do with this,” she admitted, holding up the scroll she’d slipped into her tunic.

“You stole their waterbending scroll!” Sokka accused, shock written plain across his features.  “No wonder they were chasing us!”

Zuko smirked, and drew the matching dao blades from behind his back.  “It wasn’t just her fault,” he said, flourishing the swords.  “I relieved them of something, as well.”

“I can’t believe it,” Sokka said, looking between them.

“They’re pirates,” she said, shrugging.  “I knew before I took it that they’d stolen it from the Northern Water Tribe.  At least now it’s back in the hands of a waterbender.”

“Wait, am I the only one who didn’t realize they were pirates?”  His companions stared at him, and he shifted his gaze away.  Apparently, Sokka had been the only one to not notice.  He felt heat climb up his neck and knew he was blushing.  He cleared this throat.  “Right.  Well.  Busy night,” he said brightly.  He unrolled his blankets, and climbed into them with a feigned yawn.  “Time for bed.  Goodnight!”

Zuko scoffed, and Katara rolled her eyes.  “He’s usually more observant,” she said.

“Going to bed is actually not a bad idea,” Zuko replied.  “Those pirates are probably still looking for us, and it would be wise to leave as soon as we can.”

“You can’t leave now,” said a pleasant voice.  “We haven’t had a chance to get acquainted!”

Sokka sat bolt upright in his bedroll.  “Who wazzat?” he asked.

Zuko, fire daggers in hand, shot to his feet.  “Who’s there?” he called.

“Now, now, there’s no need for that,” said the old man as he came into the light cast by Zuko’s fire.  “I mean you no harm, young Avatar.”

Zuko’s face blanked in shock, and his twin fires disappeared.

“Well that won’t do,” the old man went on.  “Bring the light back.”

Bemused, Zuko bent a ball of fire over his hand, illuminating the equally bemused faces of Sokka and Katara, as well as the amused expression on the old man’s face.

“I told you he was following us,” Zuko blurted.

“Who are you?” Katara asked.

The man, whose weathered face was creased with laugh lines, smiled.  “My name,” he said, “is Aang.”

The three shared a glance, and looked back at him.  Up close, they saw that his blue tattoos were made up of intricate swirling designs, though age had blurred the patterns.  His eyes, also blue, twinkled in the firelight.  His robes were well-worn, with neat patches in multiple shades of yellow and orange in places where it had been mended, but clean.  He wore several necklaces of wooden beads around his neck, and--he was floating several inches off of the ground?

“You’re an airbender!” Sokka said.  

“So I am,” Aang agreed.

Katara brightened.  “Are you a master?” she asked, her excitement clear.

“I am,” Aang said again.

“And why should we trust you?” Zuko asked, recovered enough now to glare at the old man.

“Zuko!” Katara said, staring at him.  “We were talking just this morning about the fact that you need to learn air bending!”

“Exactly,” Zuko agreed.  “It’s awfully convenient, don’t you think?”

“It is, isn’t it?”  Aang agreed, grinning at Zuko.  “I had no idea it would be so easy to find you!”

“You--you were already looking for me?” Zuko asked, dumbfounded again.

“Of course I was,” Aang said.  “How could I teach you air bending if I didn’t know where you were?”

“This is insane,” Zuko muttered.  “You are insane.  I don’t know where you came from, but you need to leave us alone.”

“Zuko--”

“I don’t trust him, Katara, and neither should you.”  He returned his glare to the old man floating serenely a few feet away.  “Leave,” Zuko said firmly.

Aang sighed.  “Are you certain you wish to send me away? Because--”

Zuko’s ball of fire turned to a flaming dagger.  “I said, leave!”

The old man sighed again.  “Very well.  If this is the way you want to do it.”  He waved his hand, lifting himself higher, and floated off on a sphere of swirling air.  “Until the next time,” he called back pleasantly, as if they were old friends.

“What a weird old man,” Sokka said.  

“Very weird,” Zuko agreed.  “I’m glad he’s gone.”

“I’m not,” Katara said.  “You need a teacher.”

“We’ll find someone else,” Zuko said with more confidence than he felt.  He did need a teacher, and if what Katara and Sokka had told him was true, then the odds of finding another air bender were slim.  

He ground his teeth as he climbed into his bedroll.  They would find someone else.

[megalony]

Fractured pieces- Part 8

Another part of my single dad! Roger Taylor series which I hope everyone is enjoying.

Taglist: @marshmallowmae @langdonzvoid @butlegendsneverdie @jennyggggrrr @luvborhap @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan

Series masterlist

Enjoy.

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

"No." Brian's answer was final as his tone told the four people cramped in front of him that he was not changing his mind nor was he moving out of the way to let them in. His slim but tall frame blocked the doorway to the dressing room behind him as he leaned against the frame of the door, arms folded over his chest as his face told them he was far from amused.

The four people standing in front of him were some camera crew that were asking to record the boys as they talked and got ready for the concert they were about to perform. At most, if not all of their other concerts the boys had let cameras record them messing around and chatting before they got changed. Especially for music videos when they were getting into costumes and such. Today that couldn't happen.

The dressing room behind Brian was a large one to house all four members of the band and the makeup crew since they were all sharing a dressing room instead of having small individual ones. This meant that since Roger had brought James along with them, that if the crew started recording they would capture James in that as well and Roger wasn't having that. The four-year-old was having a very bad day and the drummer couldn't leave him with family when he was like this because he wouldn't part with Roger. The band weren't in their usual playful mood that they were before a concert like this. They weren't messing around, making fun of one another or having debates about their costumes.

Freddie was keeping the mood light, John was talking quietly to Roger as he was laid with his son on his chest who was finally sleeping. Brian had stepped out to stop the cameras from coming into the room. It wouldn't be fair to record them right now when James was coughing and hardly breathing very well due to an infection. There were tissues scattered everywhere and he had burst into tears more than once already, neither his dad or uncles were letting anyone expose this on tape.

Moreover, Roger was trying to keep James as far away from the media as physically possible. Since the media hadn't been able to capture photographs or comments or anything to do with James before it only made them more desperate and having him on tape wouldn't help that very much.

Roger had dealt with about two articles in total that simply said he was hiding his son away from the world and he was fine with them spouting that because they didn't know anything of James. But he didn't want them starting to dig up anything about him. Roger knew the media just got whatever information they wanted and spread it around. They didn't know about (Y/n) and Roger wanted it to stay that way because they could easily make rude comments and stories about how James was the product of Roger cheating on his wife (now his ex-wife). Keeping James from the media was what Roger wanted to do and recording him now would only be cruel since he wasn't well.

Once the guitarist was satisfied that they weren't going to come back after they wandered down the corridor, he headed back inside. Knowing they had about half an hour until they needed to go on stage so they needed to start getting changed now.

The sight in front of Brian pulled at his heartstrings in both a loving yet heartbreaking way. Roger was laid out on the dark maroon sofa, James resting on his chest with Roger's old fur coat tucked around him so only his face was visible. It would have been a lovely sight if it weren't for the small cries and sniffs leaving James' lips. From what they could work out James had been ill all night and this morning, leaving Roger no choice but to bring him along so he could monitor if he got any worse and keep check of his medications that he was taking.

Leaning his head down Roger gently pressed his lips to the top of James' head, feeling him shaking against his chest as if he were freezing when really he was beginning to sweat under Roger's coat that he wasn't letting Roger take off him.

"Chest hurts." James whimpered, turning his head so his cheek was pressed against Roger's upper chest at an angle so he could see the drummer. His hand rubbing at his chest that was pressed against Rogers.

"I know, baby." Roger mumbled back in response, not having very much that he could do to help with that. James had taken all of the medication he needed and couldn't have anything else but a cough sweet which wasn't going to do very much. Reaching his hand out to the box of tissues resting beside them Roger grabbed two, quickly handing them to James when he started to cough. His eyes scrunching up as his cheeks turned an even darker shade of blotchy red which made the drummer nervous. He could feel the crackling of James' chest against his own and it made him shiver in a bad way.

Each member of the band visibly cringed and winced when James suddenly let out an ear-piercing cry as soon as he gained enough breath back that he lost during his coughing fit. His eyes watered like a stream as he clutched tightly at the navy blue dressing gown Roger was wearing.

With a sigh Roger took hold of the fur coat wrapped around James, laying it over the back of the sofa as he sat up properly on the sofa. Undoing the dressing gown he was wearing, Roger adjusted James against his chest before doing the gown up again so it was covering James. Even though he was very warm he was still shaking and felt cold and the heat was better for his chest. His small arms wrapped tightly around Roger's neck to the point his own breathing was nearly cut off. The young boy's cries drifting in and out of Roger's damaged ears.

Standing up, Roger slowly started to pace around the room, his head leaning against James' as he rubbed his hand up and down the little boy's back. Needing to calm him down now before they had to go on stage because it was too late to cancel the show now and Roger couldn't leave James here if he was balling his eyes out and was in such pain.

"Brian." John commented, quickly getting to his feet as the guitarist looked over to see what he was needed for. Eyes widening when he saw the makeup crew walking in with the camera people right behind them as well as a few others bringing in their clothes for tonight. Brian didn't have a chance to move one step before Freddie was in front of him. A hairbrush in hand that he had been using seconds prior which he was now waving in front of him like some kind of magic wand.

Roger's teeth ground together at seeing the pests were back in again, not taking no for an answer it seemed. Rolling his eyes Roger simply kept his head resting against his son's, walking over to the other end of the room to be out of the way as John followed.

"Out!" Freddie bellowed, making shooing motions with his hands before pointing the hairbrush at them after the makeup crew had managed to get inside. "This is a private party, and you are not invited. Now out." It took Freddie five seconds to back them up to the door before he slammed it shut in their faces. Sighing dramatically before turning around with one of his signature smiles on his face, a skip to his step as he headed over to his seat so he could get his makeup done. He was steps ahead of the rest of them, already kitted out in his outfit which consisted of pearl white jeans and a white top with the Superman logo on the front.

"I'm gonna go for a smoke." John grumbled after he buttoned up his shirt, patting his pockets to make sure he had his lighter and packet of cigarettes before heading out of the room.

It had been a big shock to the band when Roger quit smoking for good when he had James. The drummer had been smoking since they could remember but he gave it up straight away because James had asthma. He could have just not smoked when around James but he had decided to give it up completely. The band knew they weren't allowed to smoke when they were around James, Roger had made it clear they had to leave the room if they wanted to smoke especially today since James had a very bad chest. They weren't allowed to smoke anywhere in the drummer's house either if they came over, those were the rules and they were more than happy to oblige.

A sigh of relief passed through Roger's lips when he noticed James was beginning to calm down, his eyes drooping closed. Roger was surprised James hadn't fallen asleep before now considering how little sleep they had both gotten last night.

Walking over to the sofa again he gently laid James down, dragging his fur coat over him for warmth. Watching fondly as he burrowed into it, his nose twitching from the fur beginning to tickle him although his eyes remained closed. His body curling up fully beneath the coat as he seemed calmer now, his breathing still rather croaky with the same crackling sound to it but at least he was sleeping.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Roger's head turned to the left when one of the crew leaned from behind to grab the microphone on Roger's left. Moving it out of the way since he didn't need it just yet but the reason Roger turned to him was that he hadn't disappeared backstage again. Usually he moved the microphone to and from Roger in a second and then was gone but he was leaning over the drummer's shoulder so clearly, he wanted something.

The drummer could barely register the man's voice due to the sound they were creating which bounced around the stage walls before pulsing through the vast room they were in with the roaring audience.

"Skip to the guitar solo." Roger snapped back to the man once his message had been passed to the drummer who clattered his drumsticks against the cymbals to signal the end of the song. Cutting the song about thirty seconds short but his bandmates didn't miss a beat, simply ending the song as they secretly turned to face Roger in confusion. The drummer watched with a pounding heart that was breaking through his ribs as one crew member gave Brian a small signal that told him he was to take his solo now instead of later.

The lights projected onto the drum risers dimmed enough for Roger to turn around and slip off the back of the stage unnoticed as both Freddie and John wandered to the side wing and disappeared backstage when the rest of the lights turned off. Leaving only a spotlight on Brian and a few other small lights so he could see properly.

To the audience, this would just seem like the moment where the other three band members would head off to get either a drink or to get changed as Brian took the stage for a few minutes until he was informed of the situation.

Roger had to press a hand to his chest to try and gain back his stolen breath as he wandered quickly down the corridor, one of the security guards following after John and Freddie who were a few paces behind their drummer. Both unsure of what was happening as they blindly followed Roger before he barrelled into the dressing room. Realisation dawning on them that something must have happened to James and Roger was therefore needed.

The drummer's stomach pulled inwards until it completely disappeared as he locked eyes on his son. James was sitting upright on the sofa, Roger's jacket draped over his lap as he was bawling his eyes out through gasps for air. His backpack was set beside him as the woman assigned to watch him for the length of the concert was kneeling beside him. About three medication bottles and his inhaler were scattered around him on the sofa. The woman moved out of the way when Roger approached them, standing to her feet as Roger moved to kneel down in front of James, trying to assess what was wrong.

"I thought he was having an asthma attack but the inhaler isn't doing anything, he's got a fever as well."

Reaching over Roger gently placed his hand to James' forehead, feeling like he had just held his hand over a burning stove from the sudden heat that fired back through his palm. He could feel the sweat coating his hand even though James was shivering like he was cold showing he did have a fever.

Moving his hands Roger held James' sides, tugging him closer to the edge of the sofa before turning him so his side was facing Roger. Pulling James' shirt up, Roger pressed his hand to his son's back just a bit lower than his shoulder blades as he pressed his other hand to James' chest. This thumbs brushing over his skin lightly as he saw the fear and confusion pooling in James' eyes, clearly wondering what Roger was trying to do or work out.

"Breathe in and out for me." Roger asked, nodding his head to show that it was alright. His head turned so he could listen to James when he breathed, his teeth clamping down on his lip after a few seconds of everyone watching and waiting in silence. Turning his head the other way Roger hovered his ear over James' back as he moved his hand. Firmly tapping the pad of his finger against his son's back on the left side first before the right to confirm his suspicions about what was wrong.

"Rog?" Freddie questioned gingerly, his voice giving away that he was clearly worried. They needed to know what Roger was going to do so they could either go and end the show early or see it through to the end. Something told them that this show was going to be cut short.

"There's a rattling sound, I think he has pneumonia. I gotta take him to the hospital now."

Roger never thought about this being more than a simple infection since James was prone to getting them all of the time. He didn't even consider that this could be something worse such as pneumonia but he was certain that was what this was. James couldn't breathe properly even when he did nothing but lie down and sleep. He was burning a fever and shaking and when Roger listened to his chest it was rattling. Tapping his chest was a small test that showed Roger his lungs were filling with fluid that shouldn't be there. There wasn't much else that this could be and with James' age and medical history, pneumonia was not a very good thing

There was no choice here but to end the show, they couldn't go back on stage and simply make James wait to get treated for this when clearly it was getting worse. And there was no way Roger was going to let someone else take James to the hospital and meet him there when he was finished with the concert. The show had to stop and Roger had to go. Now.

Both Freddie and John left the room in a hurry to go and talk to someone about going and apologising to the audience. Needing to sort out whether tickets were going to be refunded since they had only seen half of the show they were promised. As they left the room Roger busied himself with packing James' backpack quickly, slipping it onto his boy's shoulders before picking him up. Wrapping the fur coat around him when he noticed he was still shaking despite the fever he had.

"S'alright, baby. You'll be alright."

[asterinjapan]

Walks through history and caves

Hello again!

Today was a hot and sunny day, so of course I spent most of it inside, haha. That’s not as much of a shame as you might think, because I saw some lovely things and I didn’t melt. That’s always a plus.

Follow me behind the link for today’s report on Okinawa World and the Okinawa prefectural museum!

 So, yeah, two things today again. I have a bunch of things I want to do or visit, but not all of them can be combined due to bus lines being very inconvenient. In general they’re pretty great, but sometimes two things are like 5 kilometers apart and yet the fastest way by bus is going to the other side of the island first… So I stayed up late last night and scrambled up my list to see what came up. As it turns out, the Prefectural museum is on the other side than anything else I’d like to visit, and would thus always require a trip back to Naha. That would be the plan for the afternoon then!

In the morning, I went to Okinawa World. It’s a theme park of sorts about, well, Okinawa, and frankly the majority of it is… well. I mostly came here for the cave, which we will get to later, because upon entering, I learnt that there would be a performance in ten minutes, so I went there first. It turned out to be a traditional Eisa-style drum and dance performance and boy, did that group pack a punch! Near the end they rolled in an absolutely massive drum as well, those were some intense vibrations, haha. Despite the heat (it was open-air, although underneath a tent cover), time flew and I had a good time during the performance. I however can’t say it’s music I’d very quickly buy a CD of, because I feel this is something you have to experience.

After that, I made my way to the limestone cave, Gyokusendo, the second biggest in Japan. It was formed over the past 300,000 years and measures 15 kilometers in length, although only a little less than 1 kilometer is accessible to the public. And accessible it is: there’s a metal walkway with guardrails and at the end there’s an escalator, so you don’t have to climb stairs all the way up again.

The most impressive part is right at the beginning: once you descend the first flight of stairs, you face an absolutely massive room full of stalactites and stalagmites. It’s pretty dark in here, but there are enough lights to find your way and take pictures without needing excessive flash. And although mankind has carved itself a path through the cave, it’s definitely still a natural beauty. The cave narrows the further you get, and at one point they’ve had to carve a pathway through the stalactites since they had gotten too dense. The big dangers here are tripping as the ceiling drips incessantly, and hitting your head against a stalactite, haha.

Here and there, special places were marked and occasionally got special lights, like a blue pool of water and a waterfall.

Overall, I really enjoyed this walk, especially since it was only 21 C down here, haha. That was quite the clash once I got back outside, with 30 C and sun. The cave exit leads you into the Kingdom Village, which is full of work shops that all require additional fees, and a bunch of souvenir shops. Uh, yeah, it’s a bit overly commercial here, haha, but I was prepared for that and thus didn’t really mind. Outside the cave they were selling commemorative pictures which they had taken before entering the actual cave, so I uh, caved and got that one. I should be able to download it tomorrow too, so that’s nice! I still look very jetlagged on that picture, but hey, not a lot of full-body shots of me here otherwise, haha. It’s all selfies or nothing.

 I walked through Kingdom Village fairly quickly, although it looked very nice. Scents of all kinds of food were mingling, and that didn’t exactly do wonders to my stomach along with the heat. I most definitely skipped out on the snake show (thankfully you can opt out of paying for that in the first place) and looked up my bus times. Still plenty of time left, and thus I crossed the street to find a café.

Not just any café, however – the Cave Café! Across the street lies the Gangala valley. You can only take a tour if you make reservations, and I’d juuuust come out of a cave, but you can still take a seat and have a drink at the café. Which was really cool, because it is indeed inside a cave, with stalactites dripping above you. They served soft drinks with flavored ice blocks, so I asked for the most popular combination (lemon and – something) and took a seat.

 After soaking in the cool air and the pretty views for a while, I went out to find the bus stop. The bus took me back to my starting point, about 9 minutes away from my hotel, but I wasn’t done yet for today! No, I boarded the next bus which brought me to the Okinawa Prefectural Museum. Although I must confess I rushed into the nearest shopping center first to find a bathroom and a water tap, haha.

After that, I walked to the museum and got myself a ticket for the general exhibition in the historic museum, skipping out of the art museum and special exhibitions as it was already close to 4 PM. I didn’t have to rush, though, since the museum is open until 8 PM on Fridays and Saturdays.

And I’m happy I didn’t have to rush, because whoa, this museum is packed! I got a free audio guide, which came with 50 (!) audio spots, and consisted of a map with a digital pen. You set the pen to your preferred language and then tapped the audio spot on the map. To be fair, if you listen to all audio clips, it takes much longer to make your way through, haha, but it definitely added to the experience.

The museum has a very impressive opening with a glass floor looking down into the coral life that surrounds the islands of Okinawa prefecture. Right in the first hall, there’s a relief map on the floor of the islands, and with light projections, they show how the islands were formed over the ages. The history museum really lived up to its name and covered the entire history of the Ryukyu islands right from the earliest human being discovered there, to the kings and culture, until the eventual 17th century invasion by Satsuma (currently Kagoshima in the south of Japan) and eventually annexed by Japan in 1879 as the Okinawa prefecture, only to be briefly under USA command following the horrific and devastating Battle of Okinawa in 1945. Okinawa was returned to Japan in the 70s, but the relationship remains difficult as many Ryukyuans feel independent of Japan. Sure enough, Ryukyu culture is a mix of Japanese, Chinese and other influences and yet has its own character, and even managed to remain a kingdom under Satsuma and Japan, be it with adjustments to become a vassal state. Current concerns are the loss of Ryukyu identity due to mixing with Japan and Japanese attempts to push their language and culture onto Okinawa.

So yeah, pretty difficult topics presented in a mostly neutral manner, but there was still more to discover. The natural history part went into length about the unique eco systems of Okinawa’s different islands, with very specific species of insects, birds and so on that got cut off from the rest of the world early on and now only exist here. They went the extra mile and replicated the environments here, trees and all, with animals hiding in between the trees for you to find (not live ones, of course).

Other parts of the museum discussed all aspects of life, including funerals, and this is where I truly learnt why the urns at the Tamaudun Mausoleum were surprisingly big. They do not contain ashes, since cremation wasn’t par of the course back then. Instead, once the body had decomposed, there was a bone washing ceremony and then the bones were deposited into the urn, their actual final resting place. Apparently the urns are now sought after because they’re pretty and there have already been instances or grave robbing… Geesh.

Aside from that slightly disturbing note, there were more folklore exhibits, such as the dressing up as the gods, which was on tv the other day and confused me completely, haha. The person dressed up as god, Miruku, supposedly comes from across the sea (which is something akin to heaven for people living on an island) and brings good fortune. Other gods must be appeased as they might bring bad omens. And unlike mainland Japan, it’s the women here who are spiritually superior and communicate with the deities as priestesses. I think I could have watched an entire museum on that topic alone, haha, but they did a good job covering the basics here considering how broad their scope is.

There are also a couple of traditional buildings outside, but I didn’t stay there for long since well, I just visited the Nakamura house already, haha. And I was getting really, really tired – although I had a great time at the museum, I was secretly kind of glad to be through. It made for an interesting contrast with Okinawa world, although I can’t say the latter felt super ingenuine or something. Just – commercially inclined. But I’m not sure in how far Okinawan/Ryukyu culture is actually oppressed and in how far it is akin to what I’ve heard the Ainu people on Hokkaido say: that they feel they had to put on a costume to even show their culture at all.  I don’t think that’s the case here, but I’m way too uninformed still to say something sensible about that on Okinawa, so I’ll leave that to your discretion. Maybe I’m just spouting sleep-deprived nonsense here, who knows, haha.

 After that contemplation, I had a (slightly too big, but still) delicious dinner in the mall, which hosts several traditionally Japanese food stands, and then walked to the bus stop on the other side of the road. Technically the wait for the bus meant that I could just walk back to my hotel and arrive there at the same time, but it had been a long day and it was past 7 PM, which means it’s dark here, so uh, the bus it is, haha.

 And now I’m back in my hotel! Longest day so far, so I don’t know what I’m up to for tomorrow. I have enough to choose from, that’s for sure! Photos will be up soon, and thank you for reading all of that. See you tomorrow!

[unfortunate-stranger-losers]

Six Baudelaires AU, Part Two {AO3} {Masterlist} {Part One}

Chapter Two → in which the Baudelaires move into a nice shack

The six Baudelaire children, six months ago, once would have said that they absolutely could not wait to all move out of the house and never see each other again.

That would have been a lie, of course; they’d’ve loved to see each other on holidays, and when one of them needed a favor. But as many siblings will tell you, being forced to spend two decades of your life cooped up with other people will oftentimes make you very sick of said people, whether those people were your siblings, or, in some cases, your cellmates, or your guardians, or other volunteers, or fellow students. Though the Baudelaires desperately hoped that, in present circumstances, they would not spent two decades with other students.

And in the present circumstances, they were starting to wonder if they’d ever want to be apart from each other again. Especially Nick, who rarely released Solitude from his sight since she was ripped from him to dangle precariously in a birdcage, and now looked like he might never release Klaus, who had recently been hypnotized into almost causing a murder. But Lilac was also feeling this way, as Sunny curled up against her and sucked on her own finger, and she looked over at Violet, who was staring blankly ahead at the door across the hall. They were waiting for their new Vice Principal to come out and tell them what they were to do in their new school.

Lilac glanced back at Sunny, starting to stroke her hair, which had been tied up in a ponytail that morning. Lilac often tied her own ponytails, as did Violet; both girls did that when they were thinking of something they wanted to fix or invent. Lilac was the mechanic, and Violet the inventor, though they occasionally dabbled in each others’ fields. But lately, their repairs and experiments had not been for use of fun, but for use of saving their lives from their former guardian, Count Olaf, who was out to kill their guardians and kidnap them in an effort to steal their fortune. Sunny was not yet old enough to tie her own hair, so her sisters had to do it for her. Lilac had to do a lot of things for her siblings; as the oldest, she considered it her responsibility to protect them, and that was a very difficult job in the present circumstances.

Violet herself had a lot on her mind. She remembered how, very soon before, she had gotten her siblings into great danger with her impulsive and stubborn decisions, and she had trouble deciding if it was worth it. They were all alright, sure, but they might not have been. But her decisions had not made for the thrill of it, but in an effort to preserve the legacy of their recently deceased parents. They had a lot of recently deceased relatives, such as their Uncle Monty and Aunt Josephine, but their parents’ death stung the worst because it was the first real grief the children had experienced.

The twins, Nick and Klaus, sat inbetween their sisters, and Nick took Solitude off of his lap to stretch slightly. They’d been sitting for hours, and Nick was already easily bored, even when they weren’t in a dull hallway listening to a horrible violin playing. Klaus stood up, too, also wanting to stretch.

Both twins were avid readers, but Nick liked reading about places he could go to and things he could see, while Klaus was fine just hiding and reading about whatever he pleased. But both had almost perfect memories about their reading, which became very useful when they were in danger and needed some knowledge very fast.

As he stood, Nick turned to look at his brother, and after a second, he realized something. “Wait a minute.” he said. “Are you… taller than me?”

Klaus blinked at him, as if bewildered that this could be considered important in the current moment. “What?” Nick repeated his question, and Klaus said, “I don’t know!”

Nick walked up to Klaus and stood back-to-back with him. “Vi, measure us.” he said.

Violet groaned and stood, and Solitude said, “Winnie,” which meant, “We could have Babbitt judge; they’re good with numbers!”

Though Soli was only a toddler, who only occasionally spoke in full English sentences and was much more likely to speak in small phrases or her own babytalk that she shared with Sunny, both she and her infant sister were incredibly intelligent, and Solitude herself was a budding herpetologist, a word which here means someone who is obsessed with studying reptiles, especially snakes and frogs in the second youngest Baudelaire’s case. And “Babbitt,” as Solitude said, was a word that here meant the name of the frog Solitude had smuggled along with her as a pet. They were a very tiny, genderfluid, talented frog, who could fit in the toddler’s pocket and sleep on her shoulder, and who could also be used as a projectile weapon.

“Babbitt can’t count in inches or centimeters.” Violet said. “But we don’t need measuring at the moment, we just have to see whose head is above the other’s.”

“Is this the time?” Lilac said.

“Fight!” Sunny cheered.

Sunny was still an infant, though she was fast approaching toddlerhood. She spoke almost exclusively in her and Soli’s babytalk, though she occasionally spouted a word in a language that others who were not her siblings couldn’t understand. While “fight” was one of her favorite words, her most favorite was “bite,” as her current favorite thing to do in the world was bite and tear with her sharp teeth. She was the youngest of the six children, but she was just as brave and noble as her siblings. She also loved to participate in the fun sibling bickering that they all enjoyed, as much as they pretended they did not.

Violet put a hand on Nick’s head, and then said, “Yeah, Klaus has a few inches on you.”

“When did that happen?” Lilac asked, stunned.

“Excuse me?” Nick turned around, glaring at his twin. “You can’t be taller than me!”

“I don’t have control over it!” Klaus said.

Ignoring him, Nick said, as he liked to, “I’m the older brother! I should be taller!”

“You’re only older by thirteen minutes!” Klaus said, as he liked to.

“Still older!”

“We’re not identical, we weren’t gonna be the same height forever!”

“Meaning I should be taller!”

“Could you two shut up?” Lilac asked, leaning her head against the hard back of the bench.

“We’ll shut up when the Vice Principal finally decides to get off his ass and come get us.” Nick said.

“I’m so bored, Li.” Klaus said, sitting back down and adjusting his glasses. “I don’t care what happens, so long as something does.”

At that moment, they heard a tap-tap-tap-tap-tap, and a girl danced down the hall, sliding to a stop in front of the six children.

“Hello, cakesniffers!” she said brightly.

She had a dress that was fluffy and fancy and as pink as the barrettes that pushed back her short ginger curls, and, well, the only articles of clothing she wore that were not pink were a bright red brooch on her chest and her black tap shoes.

“Uh, hello.” Violet said, as Lilac stood up and lifted Sunny. “I’m Violet Baudelaire, this is my older sister Lilac, and these are my other siblings Nick, Klaus, Solitude and Sunny.”

“Cool. Nobody cares.” said the girl. “Everyone here knows that I’m Carmelita Spats, the prettiest, most talented, most bright, most brilliant, most adorable girl in the whole wide world!”

“Most humble, too?” Nick raised an eyebrow.

“Of course.” Carmelita grinned.

“How come you don’t have to wear a uniform?” Lilac asked, looking sour. “I’d give anything to wear black instead of this drab maroon.”

“I’m too adorable for a uniform.” said Carmelita Spats. “I’m supposed to give you a tour. That’s the Vice Principal’s office. Vice Princey Nero says I’m the best and he’s totally right. Follow me, cakesniffers.”

“What does ‘cakesniffer’ mean?” Klaus asked, having rarely come across a word he didn’t know.

“It means you’re stupid cakesniffers.” Carmelita said unhelpfully. “Come along.”

She tapped away, and Violet said, “I don’t think it’s a compliment.”

“And I don’t think I like her dancing.” Nick said. “I don’t think I like her much.”

He bent down and picked up Solitude, and she patted her pocket to make sure Babbitt was still asleep inside. Then the six siblings, in itchy and drab uniforms, followed the adorable girl down the halls.

Carmelita’s tour was about as helpful as a coat would be in the Sahara Desert, or on the surface of Jupiter. While she did indeed show them places, she mostly talked about how the teachers in the classrooms thought she was adorable, and how the students in the dorms all did everything she said, and how she got lunch from the kitchen for free because she was so perfect and wonderful. When she finally got them out to the gym field, and explained how they were still trying to replace the gym teacher that had fallen out the window yesterday, and how she had been put in charge of making students do jumping jacks whenever she wanted, the Baudelaires were starting to get very tired of her voice.

“Oh, and there’s our school motto.” she said, pointing up at a sign above some tattered goalposts; everything around the school seemed to be tattered or worn or gray.

“Memento Mori.” Lilac read.

The children fell silent. They all knew basic Latin- they’d learned from their father, who liked to remind them that several languages were derived from it so they’d be easier to learn if they should wish to later. Meaning that they didn’t need Carmelita to translate for them, though she did anyway, as if they were idiots.

“Remember you will die.”

“Cheery.” Solitude said.

Carmelita tapped them away, and as they passed the students jumping jacks, the siblings noticed their stares.

“Ees?” Sunny asked, which meant, “Why are they all staring at us?”

“Maybe they’re staring because we’re new.” Violet said.

“It’s because your home was destroyed and you’re orphans now.” Carmelita said off-handedly.

She tapped them back into the building, and back to where they had started.

“You’re five minutes late.” Carmelita said, and then she hmmed.

“Hmm?” Klaus echoed.

“It is customary,” said Carmelita, “to give the tour guide a tip.”

“A tip?” Violet raised an eyebrow.

“Yes. Are you blind and deaf, cakesniffers?”

After a moment, Nick said, “I’ll give you a tip.”

“Yes?”

Nick smiled slightly. “There’s a book, about the mother of a girl who reminds me a lot of you, in that everyone thinks she is adorable and perfect. The mother gets scared when the girl’s classmate drowns on a field trip and her daughter steals something shiny off of him, and she then finds out that she has a very suspicious genealogy.”

Carmelita looked at him like he’d grown a second head. “What kind of a tip is that?”

“A useful one.”

Carmelita glared at him, and then kicked the door behind her.

The door swung open after a second, and a tall man shouted, “Who dares interrupt a genius musician while he’s rehearsing!”

“The Baudelaires are late for their meeting with you.” Carmelita said.

“How dare you be late!” said the man, who the children figured out quickly was Vice Principal Nero. He then turned to Carmelita and said, softly, “Thank you, Carmelita, for telling me. That is a lovely brooch.”

“The original owner really liked it!” Carmelita said. She spun away, and the Vice Principal gestured for the Baudelaires to follow him inside his office.

The children walked inside, and as they did, placing the toddlers onto the floor, Vice Principal Nero picked up an old violin and started to play.

It sounded awful. Sunny threw her hands over her ears, and Solitude hid her head in the fabric of Nick’s pants. The older siblings just stared at Nero, trying to mask their own horror.

When he finally finished, after what felt like forever, they continued to stare, and he said, “It is customary to applaud a great musician when he has finished his performance.”

Slowly, the older Baudelaires clapped. “Bravo.” said Violet, unenthusiastically.

“Congrats.” said Nick.

“Thank you.” Vice Principal Nero sat down at a desk chair, and said, “So, I have been told all about your misfortune. Your dead parents, your dead uncle, your dead aunt, the destruction of a mill, and a horrible man who has been following you for a while.”

“Count Olaf.” Lilac said.

“Yes.” Nero said. “But rest assured, he will not enter here, thanks to our state-of-the-art computer.”

He gestured to a computer in the corner, which looked very complex.

“How does that computer stop Count Olaf?” Klaus asked.

“How does that computer stop Count Olaf?” Nero imitated. “As if children like you would understand. Now, Violet, Nicholas-”

“Nick.”

“Nick.” Nero rolled his eyes. “You will be studying with Mr Remora in Room One.” he said. “Lilac, Klaus, you will be studying with Ms Bass in Room Two. Solitude and Sunny will be serving as my secretaries. I could use some of those, I have letters to write.”

“I don’t wanna split up!” Nick said quickly.

“Solitude and Sunny should be in nursery school.” Lilac protested.

“Solitude and Sunny should be in nursery school. Well, we don’t have a nursery school, so it’s that or let them rot in the Orphans Shack all day.”

“In the what?” Nick and Violet both asked.

“Well,” Nero said. “The dorms are only accessible to students who have permission slips signed by a parent or legal guardian. And, seeing as you have neither-”

“Couldn’t Mr Poe sign it for us?” Violet asked.

“Couldn’t Mr Poe sign it for us? Mr Poe is not your legal guardian,” said Nero, “He is the executor of your parents’ fortune. If you do not have a permission slip, you will have to sleep in the Orphans Shack until more orphans arrive and you are transferred to an empty room in the dorms.”

“If there are empty rooms,” Lilac said, “Couldn’t we stay there anyway?”

“If there are empty rooms, couldn’t we stay there anyway? You could not, that is not the rules. Rules are the way the world runs. Speaking of rules, we have several. If any of you are late for class or work, your hands will be tied behind your back during meals, and you’ll have to lean down and eat your food like a dog. If you come to the administrative building without being asked, you will have your silverware taken away during meals. If you are late to lunch, you will have your cups and glasses taken away.”

“You can’t be serious.” said Violet.

“You can’t be serious.” Nero rolled his eyes. “In the auditorium every night I give a six-hour violin recital, and attendance is mandatory. ‘Mandatory’ means that if you don’t show up, you have to buy me a large bag of candy and watch me eat it.”

“Aregg?” Sunny asked incredulously, which meant, “What? I can’t believe it!”

“Now, go along to your shack, it’s behind the kitchens.” Nero said, not even caring to ask for a translation. “Should you need to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, there are plenty of bushes.”

“Ew.” said Sunny.

Lilac picked up Sunny, and Nick picked up Solitude, and the children left without even saying goodbye. Nero did not say goodbye either, and instead he continued to badly play the violin.

“Our shack has crabs.” said Violet, looking down at the floor, where several crabs scuttled around.

“Our shack has fungus.” said Klaus, looking up at the ceiling dripping with fungus.

���Our shack has no room.” Nick observed, realizing very quickly that with the crabs, fungus and hay bales, there was not enough room for six children to sleep.

“Gah-ahc.” said Solitude, which meant, “Let’s sleep outside.”

[servingkarmalikecake]

Ask me if I’m happy

          — Ask me if I’m happy…

As a child, you were happy. At least, that is how you choose to remember it on most days.

You still remember, with Technicolor clarity, simple things; silly, stupid little things that flash like moving pictures in the back of your mind when you least expect them. Playing hide and find with One and Five (who always cheated and always won). Dancing to Cindi Lauper in Three’s bedroom or dodging Two’s knives out in the courtyard…these were the good bits. The really really good bits that you clung to when you slept.

As a child you were happy. At least, that is how you choose to remember it on most days.

You don’t like to think about all the rest – you haven’t wanted to think about all of the rest in a very long time. You were just seven years old when your father finally figured out what your gift was. He had always been hard on you, all of you, but when you were seven he ceased being just dad and finally became what he’d always demanded – The Monocle. The leader. The Alpha male.  In the blink of an eye and one very stupid mistake your sweet life had turned terribly sour.

Suddenly you were an asset to the team and you were thrown in, head first and ass backwards and terrified – so fucking terrified.  He pushed you harder than he did the others because you were weak and you were scared and god damn it, you just wanted to be happy, you didn’t want to see these horrors anymore but he wouldn’t stop. Wouldn’t let up. Wouldn’t let you just…breathe. You weren’t like the others, you didn’t want this curse; didn’t ask for it. The Monocle saw your fear as morbid weakness and decided for you that it was best to face that fear head on.

Twelve hours. Sixteen minutes. Thirty-two seconds. That is how long you spent locked in that fucking mausoleum the very first time. He had marched right into your bedroom and taken you by the arm, and you froze because he still scared you back then. You tried to put up a proper fight; you really did, but honestly. You weren’t exactly a match for a full-grown man and so he dragged you right down the stairs, wailing like a Banshee the entire way. Please dad. Please dad, no. One by one, doors cracked open, the faces of your siblings peering out between the spaces as you were taken away. Every one of you knew better than to disobey your father and yet here you were, crying like you were dying.

But weren’t you?

“It’s time for you to face your fears, Four.” He had said as he wrenched open the heavy stone door and unceremoniously shoved you inside. You stumbled for just a fraction of a moment and then you were up, throwing yourself at the door like you could change your fate – stupid, scared, weak number Four.  “Face them, number Four.” His voice was muffled by several inches of thick concrete but you heard them clear as day. Four little words you would never forget. You couldn’t face them, you could never face them. You just wanted to be happy, to forget, to un-see it all…

By the time The Monocle had finally let you out, you were frozen like the stone all around you. You had spent most of your imprisonment (because that is exactly what this was) screaming. Screaming until your were hoarse and raw and then switching to crying because it hurt a little less. The dead were suffocating and unrelenting and demanded attention – attention you could not and would not give, at least not if you could help it. “Get up, Four. Stand up straight and tell me what you’ve learned.” He was little more than a cold tone attached to an overbearing silhouette by then and as you lifted your head up off of your knees you shuddered and sniffled. The silence was deafening and glorious and you quickly stood up and dusted yourself off to stand before him, lest it get away from you and plunge you back into the bad place. “Well?” he said, with an impatient tone that made your pulse quicken and you swallowed and scrubbed away the wetness on your cheeks with the backs of your hands. It was impossible not to feel small beneath the weight of that gaze – the one that saw literally everything. You wanted to shrink back to your corner and cower underneath that gaze but you didn’t. You held your chin up defiantly and pretended to be strong. “I’m not afraid.” You heard yourself say and then it just hung there in the air between you as he studied you carefully, picking you apart with a narrowed gaze that lingered disapprovingly on your dirt-streaked face. “Go and clean yourself up.” He had said, after what seemed like hours of silence and the breath you hadn’t even realized your were holding came rushing out of you all at once. Somehow, you managed a firm nod and then you were on the move, teeth chattering against themselves as you made your way back inside and up the stairs. It wasn’t until you were sitting in the bathtub that you allowed yourself to breathe, and even then it was just shallow gasps that made your shoulders curl and shake. There was coldness in you now and you wondered if you would ever be warm again.

     ~

“Where did you go?” His voice is soft in the dead of night – that first night that was all shadows and nightmares and cold – so much cold.

A strip of pale light streaks across the floor as he opens your bedroom door just enough to slip inside and you just watch from where you are curled up, in the center of your bed. “I don’t know,” you whisper, a bit more honestly than intended.  The room returns to its shadowy darkness as he closes the door and you can hear his bare feet on the hardwood floor as he tiptoes towards your bed.  “Are you okay?” He asks, and his voice sounds terribly close now – just beside you in the darkness. You’re still shaking, even beneath a stack of blankets and it takes you a long while to answer him. You want to tell him that you are fine, that you are okay, but he’s always been the hardest to lie to. “I don’t know,” you say instead; cryptically, and you know that he will understand.

Out of all of your siblings, Six was, perhaps, the one who understood you best. Oh, sure, Two liked to think it was him and One would insist that it was him, but it wasn’t either of them – not really. It wasn’t Three and it wasn’t Five and it certainly wasn’t Seven, it was Six. It wasn’t ever explicitly said aloud, but you were kindred in your reluctance, in your fear. After that first night, the one where Six sat on the edge of your bed with his hand on your arm while you slept, everything was different. You were changing, becoming something else, and no matter how hard The Monocle pushed you to embrace your gifts and become the asset you were destined to be, Six was always there with a comforting presence that helped you sleep it all away.

You don’t remember now, when his presence stopped being enough. When the demons and the nightmares finally became strong enough to punch holes in Six’s light and shroud you in darkness once again. It was terribly difficult at first, numbing that part of you, and you did whatever you could to get by. Some cough syrup here, a nip into The Monocle’s liquor cabinet there; it wasn’t perfect and it certainly wasn’t happy, but it was enough to take the edge off, just a little bit. Time marches on and you learn to live with the horrors that consume you the best you can until you are finally old enough to do something serious about your denial.

One day you wake up and you’re a twenty-something junkie who doesn’t remember most of any given day. You are floating through life in a hazy shade of despair and damn, do you wear it well. You wanted happy; you tell yourself this is happy because you know what they say – fake it till you make it. Or break it.

There is a Five-shaped hole in the team the day that everything falls apart. Diego is sitting in the corner, stroking his knives like he gets off on the touch of cool steel against his fingertips and Luther is spouting off like one of those annoying people that you never want to meet at parties. You know the sort. The ones who love the sound of their own voice just a little too much. You are Klaus now and you think that you like that name. It sounds snappy on your tongue; you like the way it tastes on the lips of strangers. Ben (because he’s Ben now and you think you like that name best of all) is watching you from across the room, all dark clothes and hooded stares. When your eyes meet your wobbly smile falters for just a fraction and then it’s back, with a vengeance and a saucy wink to match. He looks worried, sweet Ben. Worried about you? The Mission? The weather? Global warming? Who could tell? Certainly not you.

Perhaps if you’d just been a little bit more sober, or at all in fact, none of this would have happened. Perhaps if you’d thought of someone else for just a second instead of your own selfish fucking needs you wouldn’t be out cold and covered in blood that was not your own.

By the time the team had realized everything was going sideways, it had been too late and you will never, ever forget they way it feels to hold a dying corpse, to cradle your brother’s lifeless body against your chest and scream and scream and fucking scream because you had been lying all along. You were scared, you were always scared and this was your entire fault and god damn it Ben, please don’t leave…

It had been Diego who’d finally gotten you to shut up, and that was really only because he punched you hard enough to lay you out so Luther could toss you over his shoulder and cart you back to the academy in peace. It was really for your own good, you wouldn’t blame them; any of them. What your siblings didn’t understand that day, would likely never understand, is that the fear of seeing someone you knew, someone you loved, invade your nightmares with the rest of the noise was suffocating. You didn’t want to see Ben. You couldn’t see him.

Please Ben.

Please.

         — I’ll tell you that I am if you tell me I’m dreaming.

[junkratsexplosivepersonality]

Every other freckle

Things would have been so much different if Lucio had just chosen someone else to take him to his meeting. It was hard to think that such a little whim could change so much about how you’re feeling. In just a few seconds a day can go from beautiful to terrible. It makes me resent those few moments with every ounce of my being.

The quiet always makes me uneasy. Back in junkertown it was never quiet. Quiet meant trouble, quiet meant death was hiding somewhere, a big terrifying predator licking its chops for the next meal. I can’t stand it. It sounds threatening, makes my chest ache and my breath turn funny. I feel hunted. I hate that feeling. I’d never been in the ocean but i’m pretty sure this is what drowning feels like; frantic breathing and a panicked mind. I need something, a sound. I drum my fingers against the wood of my bed. Good, drums are good. It’s still too quiet though. 

I think too much when it’s quiet. It’s never helpful thinking like Luci insists. Nothing important ever seems to brew in my mind. I think better when things are loud. Big, booming sounds, shaking ground and adrenaline pulsing. That’s the only time my mind ever feels clear. That perfect line between madness and fear that makes all my problems feel small. 

I guess my problems are already pretty small anyhow. People here talk all the time about changing the world. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to do that. Roady says words are what change the world, and I’ve never been good with them. I don’t know whats wrong with me. Whenever someone is talking with me I either spout on for days about everything that doesn't matter or i’m suddenly unable to talk. D.va says I swing wildly between a hyperactive monkey and a stump. She’s not wrong. I never seem to say or do the right thing. That’s why i’m alone here tonight anyhow. I’m pretty sure I embarrassed Lucio too much today. I didn’t mean too. I know I don’t fit in. I probably should have dressed up more for escorting Lucio to the recording studio. His managers looked at me like I was some gunk stuck to their shoe, especially when the paparazzi showed up. It was a bonafide mess. Lucio’s record company don’t approve of me, although I don’t blame them. I’m not exactly good for Lucio’s reputation. Luckily the guards were quick and the paparazzi didn’t see me around him. Lord knows what could have happened if someone snapped a pic of us walking to the studio. His manager basically lost it when they saw us. I know Lucio got chewed out by his manager. Lucio should have asked someone else to escort him. 

I was sent out early, no surprise there. I didn’t miss the frustrated look sent my way by Lucio. He seems to make that face a lot around me. I honestly don’t know why he sticks with me, I always cause a mess of some sort for him to clean up. He’s a million times out of my league. I wouldn't be surprised if he dumps me soon, he keeps talking about his manager pestering him to cut it off. Not like I mind, it’s bound to happen. At least I get to be along for the ride. 

Dammit, it’s still too quiet. My tapping seems to have faded in with the background noise. I need to get up, do something. Maybe if I sit in the common room it won’t be so quiet. D.va and tracer are always up to something late at night, those two never seem to sleep, especially since tracer discovered racing games. I don’t think anyone’s been able to pull her away from the console when she’s playing, except Emily.

The hallway isn’t very quiet, at least not when I walk down it. My leg taps along, echoing through the cold metal halls. It’s comforting, it reminds me of the old buildings of scrap back at home, except here is much cleaner. I’m pretty sure you could get tetanus from every building in that city. At least like this nothing can sneak up on me. Metal is great for that, making noise. 

“Jaimie?” His voice is like the comforting creak of a ship’s hull. I decided that when we started dating; strong calming and smooth. It does still startle me though. I guess metal isn’t good for making noise when the person skating down it is more agile than a bird. “Why didn’t you come to bed?”

“Hey, Luci.” I feel my heart pick up, fluttering around in shame. I should probably take the chance to apologize, Lucio just stormed off to his room when he got back so I didn’t get the chance. Maybe he won’t be too angry if I apologize, even though apologies don’t really fix anything. “I don’t know...I’m sorry about earlier today-”

“Why?” Lucio looks at me oddly, like I just spat up a frog. The little crinkles between his eyebrows and on his nose would be cute is I didn’t know he was upset with me.

“Ya know, almost getting caught by the paparazzi, being weird in front a ya boss.” My fingers are itchy. Normally in situations like this, I can just blow something up and run off. Having to actually face stuff like this sucks ass. Lucio snickers out of nowhere. 

“Is that why you didn’t come to bed tonight? You know it’s not your fault right?” Lucio has that look on his face again. What was it called? Bewild? Beswald?.....Bewilderment! That was it, maybe. Bewilderment and amusement. It’s better than being mad or upset though. And cuter.

“I thought you were mad, you looked pissed as all hell when you got back. Mutterin’ to yourself and everything....” Lucio rolls his eyes and hooks an arm through mine, dragging me in the direction of his room.

“I was angry because they were acting like you were some stray piece of trash I decided to drag in. They even tried to lecture me, saying shit like you were going to bow up my reputation and all that.” Lucio huffs.

“Well, I mean they aren't exactly wrong.” I lift a spare hand to twirl at the hairs at the base of my neck. It’s comforting and distracting from the heat crawling up my neck. It feels like something unbearably hot and heavy decided to plop down on my chest. 

“What do you mean?” Lucio looks concerned. Great. I can just feel him looking at me, all questions.

“You know, I’m not exactly a celebrity. I’m an ex-criminal. I never seem to say or do the right thing... I’m not exactly in your league...” I look at him. He just looks at me silently, face neutral. He wants me to talk more. “Wouldn't that be a publicity nightmare like your manager is always worrying about?” Lucio’s face changes quickly, stopping dead in his tracks and tugging me around to face him. He looks angry. Great, I said something wrong. 

“You know I don’t care about that right? People will find out eventually, it’s not like I’m ashamed of you. The only reason I haven’t gone public is because you don’t want me to.” He looks at me for a moment like he’s expecting me to say something. After a moment he just decides to continue on. “Also on that note, what do you mean league?” He looked like he’s about to lecture someone. I can tell he’s barely holding himself back from giving me an earful. I know I need to talk this time or he’ll keep frowning at me like that. I hate when he frowns.

“Nothin...” I look anywhere except at him.

“Jaimie, I mean it.” He nudges me with his arm. He’s not gonna let this drop, is he?

“I mean... you’re more attractive,...and smarter, and a better person, and all that stuff..” I wish we could just brush past this topic. It seems to just make the weight in my chest heavier and make Lúcio more upset.

“And who told you that?” He crosses his arms, looking up at me. I can only shrug. 

“Jaimie..” Lucio urged. He’s always so determined to drag every thought and self doubt out of me just to squash it like a bug.

“I don’t know. No one really, it’s just kinda a fact.” I can only murmur. 

“That’s not true. I hope you know that.” Lucio sighes, dragging me into his room and pulling me down on the bed with him. I tug off my prothstetics in silence and lay back on the bed. I can feel him grab my hand as we both stare up at the ceiling. “You know I love you, right?” His words are quiet, but they seem to cut through the air. It makes something in my chest ache. Neither of us look at each other. I just grunt. He’s said stuff like this before, he does it all the time. I know we’re temporary, he has every reason in the world to not stay with me. I try my hardest not to make him stay with me, I’m enough of a burden as it is. Still, he clings to me. His words are like sugar. Sometimes it’s the best thing in the world to hear. Sometimes it hurts. Lucio is looking at me now, I can feel it.

He grabs my chin and turns my head, making me look at him. He looks... determined. “Because I do. I love you and your weird way of seeing the world. I want you and your messy hair and style; I want every other freckle, every smile and breath and kiss you give me.” He lifts our intertwined hands, somehow emphasizing his words with the action. “I need you to know that, like the sky is blue and that grass is green, I love you.” I can feel myself blushing like mad, even tearing up. It feels like whatever weight was in my chest just blasted off and for some reason my only response is tears. I have to put a hand over my face and look back up at the ceiling to get my bearings. I know if I keep looking at him I’ll start crying and talking and I won’t be able to shut up. I hate when Lúcio sees me cry, he tries too hard to comfort me. It makes me feel more like a burden. Lucio seems to take this as an invitation to drape himself over my chest, moving my hand away from my face and looking me in the eyes, frowning and waiting for a reply. I close my eyes. The weight is back.

“I know love.” I take a breathe. If I said I wasn't embarrassed right now I would be lying. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten as many compliments in my life as I have gotten compliments from Lúcio. I swear every other night he confesses his love to me.

“And you love me too?” Lucio added, not breaking eye contact.  

“Yes, Yes I love you Luci,” I force myself to not look away. “I’m not good with words like you are, but I care about you, a lot, more than anything in the world. I don’t think I’ve loved anything more than I love you and I don’t think I ever will.” 

“Good, because something is really hurting me.” He says this like he’s satisfied with himself.

“What?” That’s an odd thing to add. I feel like our conversation just did a backflip. He points to his chest. No, his heart. 

“It hurts me, Jaimie. It hurts when you say you don’t love yourself like I love you. When you say you don’t belong with me.” I can only look away in shame, nodding. 

“I don’t know how to fix that love.” It’s the only thing I can say for myself. Lucio rests his head on my chest, weaving our fingers together. 

“That's okay. I know this stuff takes a long time. We’ll fix it together.” 

[sous-le-saule]

The first fanfic I ever wrote

The lovely @akhuna01 tagged me! Thank you so much! 

I wrote my first fanfic, Tout ce qu’on ne dit pas, in february 2016, a few weeks after I finished Good Omens. This is not the first fanfic I published, though, since I wrote three other stories while editing that first one.

Since it’s in French, I’m posting @lunasong365‘s beautiful translation, with her kind permission.

And since it’s almost 7k word long, I’m just posting the first chapter.

@maniacalmole @improbabledreams900 @not-a-space-alien I’d love to read your first fanfic!

Summary: Some things are more comfortable when they’re left unsaid. But strangely, sometimes, they don’t want to remain hidden.The first part imagines an incident that happens before the Antichrist’s birth, the second one is a reinterpretation of canon.

Pairing: Aziraphale/Crowley

Rating: teen & up

Crowley awoke with a start. He’d fallen asleep during an episode of “The Prisoner,” which continued to flicker on the television in front of him.[1] Peering into the darkness of his apartment, it took a moment to realize what had woken him from his slumber. He eventually identified the sensation, both familiar and disturbing, that was hammering his temples: something demonic was happening. Not in the immediate vicinity, but close enough for his acute sense of territory to convince him to get up and put on his coat.

[1 -  He claimed that his professional responsibility required him to regularly check the quality of products he’d helped create, but he himself had succumbed to the addictive nature of series for which he’d whispered the idea to producers for this very reason. Since the invention of television, humans spent more and more time vegetating in front of the tube and less time reading. And they became easily irritated at the idea of missing an episode of their favorite show. However, programs were still too tasteful. Not enough sex. Or humiliation. Crowley was working on a project to sequester and film 24/7 people chosen for their lack of culture, good taste, and especially, modesty. He was investigating the idea, but felt that the world was not yet ready.]

He muttered under his breath as he walked toward the Bentley. "They could notify me when they send someone on a mission to my jurisdiction. A little respect, yeah? And anyway, why didn’t they give this mission to me?" He really hated the times his radio or television broadcast was interrupted to transmit orders from Hell (when would they finally trust his creativity, dammit?) But, hey, a demon has his pride. He relaxed, thinking it was maybe just one or two young demons sent to showcase their ability through some rite of passage: burst water pipes, disappearance of express parcels and urgent mails, simultaneous nightmares to wake children up screaming all over the city[2]. He still wanted to get to the bottom of it.

[2 -  It was however a little early for this third possibility because, as everyone knows, this kind of thing has to happen between 4 and 5 a.m., early enough to mess up your night, but too late for you to fall asleep again.]

With his vehicle carelessly stopped in the middle of Piccadilly Circus, Crowley leaned recklessly out the window as he attempted to locate the origin of the evil feeling. Soho. Shit.

At this late hour of the night, it was easier than usual to cross London at 160 km / hour. Crowley discreetly parked the Bentley halfway up the sidewalk a few doors down from Aziraphale’s bookstore. The front door had been forced open and was slightly ajar. Ohshitohshitohshit.

And like an idiot, Crowley had not brought the holy water stored in his safe.

~*~*@*~*~

Aziraphale fell heavily to the ground, breathless, muffling the cry of pain caused by the deep lacerations his opponent’s claws had just inflicted on his arm and his side. He threw a desperate look towards the dagger he had dropped, now several meters away from him. Things were not looking good. The demon who faced him displayed his considerable teeth in a predatory smile. Taking great care to avoid the weapon that had reduced his two associates to an unrecognizable mess of flesh, his opponent strengthened the grip on his own rune-carved blade and approached the angel. Aziraphale struggled to get up.

The demon suddenly hesitated, and Aziraphale understood why when he himself perceived a second demonic presence. He immediately recognized the familiar aura of Crowley, which boiled with intense feelings. Rage. Fear ... Love?

“Back off, asshole. Nobody touches my angel.”

The first demon, twice as big as Crowley, turned to keep his two opponents in his field of view. He relaxed slightly when he saw that the newcomer was not armed.

“And how do you think you’ll stop me?” he asked Crowley with a sarcastic smile. “I have not been ordered to kill you but, please, give me a good reason to do it.”

“Other than spouting clichés, what the hell are you doing here?” said Crowley in an allegedly confident tone (fooling nobody).

“Believe it or not, the Big Guy is not too satisfied with your results lately. It seems that you’ve been hanging around with a certain angel too much and that has softened you. But you know how it is; nobody likes to waste time holding job interviews and training a new field agent. So I'm here to eliminate your distraction.”

“Uh ... what if I voluntarily promise to work overtime?”

“That’s already going to happen, smartass. Now, get lost and let me have some fun. Leave me to finish this and nothing more will happen to you than the doubling of your quotas.”

Crowley had used this pleasant little chat[3] as an opportunity to search the back room for a potential weapon. Two blades similar to the one held by his opponent were buried to the hilt in the mutilated bodies of their former owners, but they were out of reach. Crowley's gaze lingered on the dagger adorned with angelic ciphers (since when and where has Aziraphale been hiding that?) lying between him and his adversary.

[3 -  When would people – or demons - learn not to have an extended monologue instead of carrying out their plan? Doesn’t anyone watch TV?]

They both knew: no demon could touch such a weapon without being disintegrated; just like the assassins’ blades were designed to annihilate angelic creatures. Game over: do not pass go, do not receive a new body. The demon looked down on Crowley with amusement, as if challenging him to seize the dagger. Then, seemingly dismissing him as inconsequential, he again began to move towards Aziraphale.

The latter had made use of this brief respite to recover and gather what little strength he had left. Disarmed, Aziraphale had no choice but to attempt to ward off his enemy, but he had already tried this option before the fight started and had failed, as if he’d been blocked by a barrier. Maybe the odds were better now that he’d gotten rid of the other two? Anyway, it wasn’t like he had another alternative. He hoped that Crowley would take advantage of the interruption to escape without doing something stupid.[4]

[4 -  Here we see irrefutable proof of angelic optimism.]

“Return to Hell, Demon!” chanted Aziraphale in a muffled voice, using an ancient incantation while suddenly projecting his angelic aura toward his opponent. The demon staggered and gasped, but did not disappear.

“Too weak!” chuckled the creature, raising his blade to deliver the final blow.

With nobody paying attention to him, Crowley ended his internal debate[5] and rushed toward the weapon dropped by Aziraphale. 

[5 - That we could transcribe more or less as follows: 

“Just turn around and walk away. Don’t get involved!”

“If you hold the blade right, maybe you’ll have enough time to plunge it into his back before in turn being disintegrated.”

“This is the worst idea you’ve ever had and that’s saying something…”

“Oh, shut up!”]

The angel saw him from the corner of his eye and couldn’t restrain his shout.

“Crowley!”

The assassin turned, but before he could comprehend what had happened, his flesh began to crack and collapse upon itself, leaving behind only a small reddish and steaming pile. Crowley released an incredulous cry of victory, before remembering what he was holding and throwing the dagger far from himself with a frightened yelp[6]. Stunned, he contemplated his untouched palm.

[6 -  If you ask Crowley, he’ll obviously say that demons do not yelp. So as not to embarrass him, Aziraphale will refrain from mentioning all the times he’s witnessed otherwise.]

~*~*@*~*~

A groan from Aziraphale restored Crowley’s priorities. He knelt beside the wounded angel, whose side and arm, both deeply lacerated, were bleeding profusely.

“It will be ok, angel, it will be ok…”

“I know it will,” replied Aziraphale calmly with a faint smile. “Could you stop panicking for two seconds and get me a clean towel? I have to stop the bleeding until I regain enough strength to heal myself.”

Crowley disappeared in the kitchenette, muttering that he was not panicking, and returned with clean towels with which he compressed the angel’s injuries. The demon had also brought a bottle of gin, from which he took a swig before giving it, without a word, to Aziraphale, who did the same.

“Thank you, Crowley.”

“ 'Told myself you would need a drink.”

“I meant: thank you for ...”

“Don’t mention it.” Embarrassed, Crowley abruptly cut him off.

“It was particularly stupid, you know.”

“You moved particularly fast from gratitude to criticism, I think,” Crowley pointed out with an offended snort.

“You could have been disintegrated. You should have been disintegrated,” said Aziraphale, frowning. “You could have escaped...”

“And get stuck dealing with your successor, who would have been overly ambitious, like all beginners? You want me to remind you how zealous you were at the beginning, when you were trying to discorporate me every time our paths crossed? Thank you very much, but I am quite satisfied with our Arrangement.”

“In short, you protected your interests ...”

“Exactly!” exclaimed Crowley, relieved. Even if, on second thought, Aziraphale’s smile implied a quite unsettling go-on-you-can’t-fool-me.

“And how will you explain this to your superiors?” asked the angel.

“Explain what? These three can’t serve as witnesses. And if someone ever did look into the matter: they attacked an angel, they were killed by an angelic weapon. End of story. They will think twice before sending someone else. By the way, you haven’t lost your touch,” added Crowley admiringly, pointing to the remains of the first two assassins. “I must say I sometimes tend to forget the guardian of the eastern gate hides under the guise of a harmless bookseller.”

“I guess the same went for them,” said Aziraphale distractedly, focused on healing his wounds.

The lacerations were closing gradually as a soft golden light emanated from the angel, evidence of the divine power at work. Crowley stepped away to a cautious distance.

“Well, you’ll have to replace the carpet.”

“Mmhmm. Could I take advantage of your kindne… er… would you mind making us some tea, while I finish this?”

A few minutes later, they faced each other across the small table in the kitchenette, two steaming cups in front of them. Aziraphale’s penetrating gaze looked directly into Crowley’s eyes, as much as the sunglasses allowed:

“Is there something you want to talk about?”

Crowley displayed his most impassive expression.

“Not really.”

As the answer didn’t seem to satisfy his counterpart, he continued, with the fast delivery and the reluctant tone he always used when forced to say little demonic things:

“Well, I'm sorry you got dragged into that.”

“It's not your fault,” said Aziraphale, reaching across the table to pat the back of Crowley’s hand. “I even have to admit I'm rather proud: if I affect your job performance, it means I’m doing mine properly.” The demon looked at their hands with an astonished air, before he hastily withdrew his to safety under the table. “What I mean is ... don’t you wonder how you were able to use my dagger without damage?”

“I have no idea... just lucky? Maybe it’s too old to hurt me? Somehow the dagger knew I was trying to defend you? Honestly, I don’t know and I don’t care. It worked, and now it’s over.”    

“This weapon was designed to disintegrate any demon which it touches, and, as you saw, it works perfectly well.”

“Apparently not.”

“Apparently,” corrected Aziraphale, “something has sufficiently either altered or hidden your demonic nature enough to deceive the dagger.”

The angel obviously expected a question from his counterpart, but Crowley, unwilling to push the conversation further in this direction, merely indifferently drank his tea. Aziraphale sighed and hesitated, then said softly:

“I'm able to sense these kinds of things, you know. When you arrived, you felt...”

“When I arrived, I felt the immense annoyance of a guy obliged to get up in the middle of the night to come and save your ass. That’s all.”

Crowley’s cup hit the saucer with a loud clink.

“Oh, please. When you grabbed my weapon, it was out of...”

“Ssstupidity, as you said.”

Crowley pushed his chair back and stood up. Pushed to the limits by his attitude, Aziraphale couldn’t hold back a low blow:

“And since when exactly am I your angel?”

Seeing Crowley’s cheeks flush, he regretted his words instantly. He didn’t even know demons could blush.

“Aziraphale, you’re fantasizing,” replied Crowley coldly. “You must rest; the fight must have really taxed you.”

“Crowley, I...”

But the front door had already slammed. Alone with his lukewarm tea, the angel stared into space and whispered:

“Aziraphale, you fool, you could hardly have handled this worse.”

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