#but yeah I stick to my theory that are lying to us in an attempt to save face
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mirai-desu · 6 months ago
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Miss Scarlet & The Duke » Series 4, Episode 4
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distressedbeanpole · 1 year ago
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Okay Ultrakill Crack theory on who the next prime soul is. I personally think the third prime soul will stick with the Greek King theme.
In original Myth, Minos was the king that built the labyrinth, and had a wide who cheated on him with a bull (compelled by Poseidon but whatever) Minos was made a judge of hell in Greek myth AND in Dante's inferno.
We know in Ultrakill itself, Minos started as an esteemed judge in hell, and fell from grace so to speak by uplifting Lust.
Then we have Sisyphus. While he doesn't exactly show up in the Divine comedy, traces of him do, especially in the greed layer, where the greedy participate in the Sisyphean task of pushing their wealth past someone with a similar amount of wealth.
[insert rest of breakdown of existing prime souls because I'm tired] oh but one point I want to make is that Sisyphus was made low, and kept down after the insurrection.
My guess is Odysseus, or as he's known in Inferno, Ulysses. Wasn't Odysseus the hero of his story? Yeah, but the Romans HATED this guy. He went around, lying about who he was, tricking his foes and all that. The Greeks saw him as clever and cunning. The Romans saw him as a dishonorable backstabber. His story ultimately ends with him returning to his kingdom (after YEARS of being away) he dresses up as a stranger, joins the competition to win his wife, and after he wins goes "Heyo it's me, everyone who tried to get with my wife is gonna die now. And also also, everyone who tried to get with the guys that tried to get with my wife can be hung."
Known for the strategy of the Trojan Horse, this guy was a trickster. So how does he translate to.Ultrakill?
I think, Ulysses was involved in some sort of rebellion similar to Sisyphus and Minos. While Minos and Sisyphus were trying to improve the lives of those around them, Ulysses joined a similar cause, but betrayed them from the very start for a promise of gaining leadership.
Ulysses is the current ruler of a layer of hell, gained by forsaking those around him, those that believed him to be a leader, ones that believed his counsel.
Ulysses will be built of fraud, every action, and every word an attempt to raise himself up. Ulysses will have started at nothing and pulled his way up above everyone else.
In terms of gameplay, I think Ulysses would use their Flesh prison as a Defensive mechanism, like a Trojan horse. You'll be fighting this thing, and then when you get it almost low then BAM this guy pops out and uses some fancy language to say stuff like "Thanks for getting rid of the competition" and "I've worked too hard to let you ruin this"
Then he AND his flesh vault will be attacking you. Things start getting bad for Ulysses he'll retreat back inside.
I feel like the idea has merit but babysitting and class has ruined me, so I'm just gonna set this down and go. Let me know what y'all think
It could also be midas, cause it seems like Midas Sisyphus and Minos are grouped as like 3 bad kings but Ulysses might be dope
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sunderedandundone · 2 years ago
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AoR fridge moment, Mystic edition
[obviously, late-season spoiler] So...why didn't UrVa try just yelling at SkekMal to stop flinging little people around, and see if that worked first...? As opposed to shooting first (*not* a warning shot, either) and THEN saying "OH HAI halfsie, long time no see and BTW, get away from them"? -_- I mean -- they 100% had the drop, right? They certainly could've already had their bow nocked and everything. It's not like 'Mal would've said "pfft" and kept going because hey, their light half could always *miss*. Frankly, I doubt the Hunter would've even attempted to flee with a Gelfling in hand like they did, *except* that UrVa was drawing serious blood already and well -- at that point, turning tail and chancing a shot in the back is still a safer option than sticking around to try and melee your equally-badass UrRu, who's already signaled that maiming the both of you is not only *A-OK with them*, but very possibly their preferred approach. Besides, you're still outnumbered, because the only combatant you've taken out yet is the Podling. (Mind you, the Podling in question is Hup, so that's actually kind of a big deal, but. :-) ) Rian's still good for another ten rounds; Heretic seems to be in literal shock so well-played on instantly neutralizing *them* -- yet, they still could have it in them to deal some well-timed blow to the back of the head even with their good hand impaled; and hell, one the others might always wind up cooking up a quick gambit with any of the piles of crazyass stuff lying around the place. There are an inconvenient number of vines. At minimum, SkekMal clearly did *not* fancy their chances in a straight-up duel with halfsie. Whether they thought it was the light or dark shard that'd technically "win," they must've figured that either way M.A.D. was the result. I.e. -- they had *no* standing assumption that 'Va would lay off the hurting and homicide at any sane point. That's...pretty hardcore. Anyways. *Especially* if you're hellbent for the sake of your dumbass Hunt on taking someone with you as prisoner, fleeing once you're already shot and bleeding does makes sense..........BUT not up *until* then. Up till then, from any normal perspective, there was a more than fair chance of getting SkekMal to blink first in the standoff -- to skedaddle for now, NO prize in hand, WITHOUT anybody having to 3/4ths murder them first. Because unwounded, they'd almost certainly have preferred to just heave-ho and wait for the damn Archer to go away, or fall asleep or be rebraiding their damn hair or something. And while that's for sure a dangling plot thread that'd come back to haunt everybody...there honestly wasn't a better plausible outcome than that for the good guys either. Forcing the battle then and there was not going well for anybody. From Team Gelfling's standpoint, far better to let SkekMal skedaddle and use the respite to do some preparation/teamwork for another face-off, or else figure out a way to elude their pursuit. After all you've got the one and only Archer, conscious and alive, to help with that now! So why shut off that whole avenue from the start, UrVa, my dear space dino? I mean you're a *Mystic*, aren't you? Not keen on violence? Practicing archery purely as a spiritual discipline and all that shit? Isn't it a bit...off-brand to jump straight to the serious puncture wounds, without even giving the other party a chance to stand down? And remember, Aughra said "confront" the Hunter...NOT "KILL." So a little weird, yeah? There's only two explanations I can see for this: 1) UrVa was just THAT incandescently certain that somehow the confrontation was going to end with them both dead, so they might as well skip ahead to that part; or, what I think is more likely, 2) their self-hatred was just jumping THAT far out ahead of their rational strategizing. Which makes this a fairly epic (not to mention tragic) case of Telling On Oneself. [NB: As always: ALL HC ARE VALID, this is just my fan theory]
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itsclydebitches · 3 years ago
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There seems to be no middle ground with RWBY+, they trust you or they don’t. Some have no chance to “earn” it, but others don’t do anything to gain it. James should’ve earned it a hundred times over. He did so much but it wasn’t enough. What did Robyn do? She tried to attack Ruby and was only stopped by Penny. After that? Yang trusts the woman who almost hurt her sister over the man who gave her an arm, then blamed Ruby. Any wonder I hate these characters so much?
The frustrating thing is that I think I can see what RT was going for. Frustrating because it's the reading most of the fandom falls back on, despite the fact that the show... never actually wrote that story. In short, it's the belief that there's established good and bad in this world and we have a responsibility to uphold the former regardless of personal trust. So if a friend of mine is, say, being a racist asshole and a stranger is not, I have a moral responsibility to side with the stranger, despite the fact that I don't know them, technically can't trust them on other matters, and have little to no emotional investment in them as an individual. You need to take the side of what's right, no matter how hard that is. It's why we get so many heroes facing off against former friends and mentors. "You'd really betray me for them?" they say, pointing to the sidekick our hero only met at the start of the story, maybe a couple months ago in-world. "Yeah," they reply. "Because they're not trying to kill everyone." Basic humanity trumps long-term relationships.
That, as far as I can tell, seems to be the basic setup that RWBY was going for: Robyn may be a stranger, but she's the Good Person sticking up for Mantle, whereas Ironwood may be an ally and friend, but he's also the Bad Person hurting Mantle. Ergo, aligning with Robyn wins out, no matter that she's a stranger and Ironwood an ally. That's likewise why fans are so quick to dismiss evidence of Ironwood's good nature. Things like Yang's arm or the licenses aren't accepted as evidence for why the group should have started with more trust in him, they're reframed as excuses for why critics supposedly want to overlook his presumed, horrific nature — something that the story later made real with him shooting Oscar, killing the councilman, hacking Penny, and threatening to bomb Mantle. Viewing the good Ironwood did as some manipulative temptation the group was right to resist depends entirely on seeing Ironwood as the archetypal bad guy to Robyn's good guy.
However, this attempt failed spectacularly for numerous reasons already discussed over the past two years. Ironwood's actions were never revealed as manipulations. The group continued to work with him, thereby shouldering responsibility for his choices. Ruby actively pushed to complete Amity, despite the harm it was doing to Mantle. Robyn never did anything with the resources she stole, etc. This presumed line between Ironwood and Robyn simply doesn't exist in the text — or at least it's incredibly blurred — so when Yang and Blake run to share intel with her, it doesn't feel like the heroes turning away from the wrong path to back the real hero. We don't understand how resources to build a communications tower are hurting everyday peoples' lives. We don't understand why Weiss can't just go up and plug the hole with a bunch of ice. We don't understand why, if hurting Mantle is such an objectively awful thing, our hero Ruby keeps pushing to finish Amity anyway. We don't understand why there isn't at least an acknowledgement of good intentions here, considering that the tower is meant to save the world from Salem, helping Mantle in the long run. We don't understand why, if the group is so concerned with Ironwood's choices, they don't tell him the one piece of information that would get him to stop. And we don't understand Robyn.
Because here's the thing: it's badly written. The whole Amity debate straight through to the Fall of Atlas is a mess of ill thought out morals, shoddy worldbuilding, and outright contradictions. There's no salvaging that without rethinking Volumes 6-8, starting with the group's response to Ozpin. But all that aside, even if we kept things exactly as they are and bought into the assumption that Ironwood is as Bad and Robyn is as Good as the story wants us to believe... the group still should have at least hesitated to trust Robyn. More than a line or two of dialogue between Yang and Blake. I mean actual hesitation and a serious acknowledgement of the complications here. The concept of trust is now a focal point of RWBY and there's enough material across the entire series to make the Robyn situation way more complicated than just the group going, "We should side with her because she wants to do right by the people." Here I'm not talking about what we the audience know about RWBY's construction as a story, I mean what the characters have experienced on screen. It's a simple question at the core of the trust Robyn debate:
How do they know she's telling the truth?
Seriously, how do they know Robyn is who she says she is? That she doesn't have ulterior motives? That she's not outright lying to them and the rest of Atlas? Everything I've heard in defense of the group's fast-track trust falls short. "Well, she's presented as one of the good guys in Atlas, fighting for what's right." You mean like how Cinder, Emerald, and Mercury once posed as huntsmen and joined Ruby's school, supposedly fighting for what was right? "She's interested in politics. It's not like she's out there attacking them like Tyrian." You mean like how Salem infiltrated a kingdom via Lionheart, the White Fang has likewise tried to worm their way into positions of power, and Jacques is currently trying to steal an election? The bad guys don't limit themselves to just trying to murder people straight out. "But she stole resources back for the people!" And did... what with them? For all we actually know, she put those towards a different, nefarious plan. "But she's so passionate and she's sworn she wants to help." People lie! That was the whole thing with Ozpin! Ruby just lied at the start of the Volume. And, funnily enough, Robyn has the semblance that forces others to tell the truth, but no one can make Robyn do the same.
To be clear, I don't actually have a conspiracy theory that she's secretly a baddie. My only point is that fans were right to wonder if she was a White Fang or Salem agent and our group absolutely should have wondered the same. Take away all the personal reasons to trust Ironwood (defending Weiss, Yang's arm, friend of the inner circle, etc.) and we're still left with proof of his intentions in the form of things like Amity's plans and him continually giving the heroes more power, more resources, more connections, more ways to hurt him if they were to ever turn against him. In as much as you can prove anyone is trustworthy, Ironwood was there. But Robyn? Robyn had none of that work. More importantly, that lack interferes with our "She's doing the right thing, so we need to back her" reading. How did the group know she really wanted to do right by the people? And since that's always hard to prove, what did they do to at least attempt to reassure themselves? Absolutely nothing. Which is why the current writing makes them look stupid. They watched the bad guys infiltrate their school, organize the Fall of Beacon, stalk them, pose as allies, turn on them, lie to their faces, are telling lies themselves... and none of them came up when the question of trusting Robyn was put on the table. The idea of someone tricking them (again), or betraying them (again), or lying about Important Topics even though they're doing the same seems to have, somehow, escaped them.
It doesn't matter what Robyn's stance on Mantle is because the group never justified trusting her word and the story failed to show us (and them) that Robyn was doing good. Literally all she does pre-trust is stand for election and, again, we could say the same of Jacques. If the story wanted to make at least a miniscule improvement on this arc, we needed to see either a compelling reason to believe Robyn is all she presents herself as (for example, Penny could have known and vouched for her), or gotten an explanation for why they'd take an unjustified leap of faith when others haven't gotten one, people who have done much to earn that trust. It's a problem that grew exponentially once Oscar trusted Hazel and the group trusted Emerald, but it has existed since Ilia. As it stands, by this logic, Cinder should be able to walk up to the group and go, "I'm not bad anymore. I actually want to help now. No, I'm not lying :)" and that's that. That's what trust means to them. Taking people at their word ...unless you're a flawed ally who has made mistakes. Then trust takes months to rebuild, or is off the table completely.
Ozpin is not trustworthy. Ironwood is not trustworthy. Qrow saying "Hey" is not trustworthy. According to the fandom, Tai is not trustworthy.
Ilia is trustworthy. Robyn is trustworthy. Emerald is trustworthy. Hazel is trustworthy.
It's completely backwards and Robyn was a large part of that strange flip.
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tragcdysewn · 10 months ago
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xaden let out a snort, trying and failing to keep his expression composed at the mental image of tairn making her stand in the corner like a child. "no, you definitely chose the right answer, but god, the options were all absolutely abysmal, vi." she had to admit that it was a little funny, and he knew she would agree with that if she wasn't in the mood she's currently in. in a few weeks, or whenever the dragons are back to themselves. "i'll say you got mugged or something, don't worry about that. i'll keep it vague and tell them you don't really want to talk about it. i doubt anyone will pry that much into you getting stabbed." it was a perfectly normal thing to be a little cagey about, and really, who the hell wanted details of something like that? he didn't mind lying, especially if it protected her from having to do something that made her uncomfortable. his father was another issue, and he'd deal with that separately. but right now he just wanted to take a brief second with violet, one of the last he might get with her. he breaths her in, taking more comfort than he'll admit from the small fact that she's there, and she's safe. "now, tell me why i just don't believe you'll actually manage to stick to that? brennan's going to kill me when he remembers if he finds out how much trouble you've gotten in here." between whatever had happened in that maze, and now this? brennan was going to give him so much shit, honestly. and he was sure violet was going to end up getting in more fights at some point. his arms loop loosely around her as she speaks, shaking his head. he can't keep the fondness from his face at her frustration with the archives in this world. "maybe that's part of whatever spell this is. i had no idea magic or any of that was real, i just didn't question the weird shit going on around me. there's got to be something keeping people from recording it." not that he had any explanation about how it worked or how to attempt at fixing it, all he could offer was a theory that might help her a bit. "we'll protect them if anything goes wrong, nothing's going to happen to them with the all of us keeping an eye on them. you know im and garrick will help out if we need them to, too." he laughs along with her, rolling his eyes. "yeah, i do get tairn and sgayel going at it in my head, it's not fun. can't imagine having andarna in there too." xaden can't quite help the relief that uncoils the knot in his gut when she replies that she isn't going anywhere. "good. we'll find another way. it's possible, we just have to figure it out." the corners of his mouth turn upwards a bit, huffing out another brief laugh. "yeah, but i can use tairn as a distraction while i blurt out that i'm in love with you."
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"don't start please, tairn made me stand in a fucking corner, when i told him about it. i personally think i chose the easiest answer between 'you're a dragon', 'i'm sleeping with your dad', and 'long lost sister'." she knew that, had her mood been even slightly better, she probably would also think the situation was funny. and maybe, once her dragons remembered, she'd start laughing about it all, but for now, it was just another stressor. "i don't think anyone's going to question it, beyond wondering how the fuck your girlfriend got into a knife fight on her day off." the last thing she wanted was to get back and have a ton of questions thrown her way, the lies were already getting hard to keep up with, she didn't need to start lying at work too. at least xaden was better at handling those situations, so she would happily leave them to him. her eyes shut against his lips on her forehead, letting loose a breath that had been keeping her chest tight, tension easing from her shoulders for even just a moment as she relaxed into his presence. to feel like, for a fraction of a second, that they weren't fighting some undefeatable force, that they weren't existing on borrowed time. that this could be their normal, for once, stuck in their own bubble, no outside worries bringing them back to earth. "i'll make sure i don't try to get into any fights until brennan remembers, then." she added after a moment, breaking away as he did, though she kept him close to her, her knees pressing against his legs to lock him in place as they continued. "i just wish there was any information on this all. jesinia and i have basically ransacked all the libraries here, and there's nothing about how things work here. there's no information on venin, or anything like that, and on top of that, there's not a single fucking text about how to fix the memories of people who have forgotten. i mean, how could magic exist in this city and no one record it!" okay, so maybe she was not as relaxed as she was pretending to be, the words spilling forward, almost rambling towards the end as she gets more frustrated. her head leaned back against the mirror behind her, staring up at the ceiling with a huff. "if i could just fix it, none of them would have to keep living a lie. we could all go back to normal. but no one here knows how to fucking record history!" she paused, listening to xaden as he reassured her, blinking away the way her eyes burned, refusing to let herself cry. now was not the time for it. "i just don't want them to get hurt because they don't remember." she said after a moment, letting the weight of the conversation settle, before snorting out a laugh, sitting up again to look at him at the comment about the dragons. "yeah, it's going to haunt me with those two forever. they should not unite against me. everyone wants to dragons until you're getting shit from two of them in your head." she watches as his face shifts, as her words register in his mind, feeling her own expression fall. if she had died, though, wouldn't it bring all of the dragons back to normal? wouldn't it fix whatever memories they were worried about? but seeing the reaction in xaden's eyes, vi knew that wasn't an option any time soon. "i-- i won't. i'm not going anywhere." she said as she pulled away from the kiss, just enough that she could still feel his lips against hers as she spoke. "i doubt he'd go up against a dragon. memories or not. but you falling in love with me? i don't think you can blame that on tairn, xaden."
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wesimpforxiao · 3 years ago
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Inception: Chapter 5
"Pft! I-Ahahaha!"  You were doubled over the table trying to stop yourself from choking on your food while Ajax crinkled his nose in disdain.  The two of you were at Xinyue Kiosk for a late-night dinner that he had insisted was his treat.  You've only ate at fancy food places like this every once in awhile; these meals were so freaking expensive! Your initial hesitance to join Ajax on the basis of money was soon overshadowed by the entertaining sight sitting across the table.
"Tch...tsk..." With every effort, he grew more impatient and frustrated.  It didn't help that you were watching and laughing at his incompetent efforts to use chopsticks!  "Ugh! Forget it!"  He gave up and stabbed one of his sushi rolls rather violently before shoving it into his mouth with a pout.  Ajax turned away from you as his face grew redder and redder, but he couldn't help glancing back to see the smile on your face and the tears of joy rolling down your cheeks.  Well, as long as this brought you joy...at his own expense...He let out a huff before reaching for his drink.  At least whatever bitterness you held towards him last week seemed to disappear.
"I-I can't believe you...! I can't take it!" At long last your laughing fit died down enough so you could breathe, and you reached up to wipe your tears away.  "Pft...! I'm sorry, but this is too funny!"
"Yeah yeah," Ajax sighed yet again, his confidence deflating like a balloon and his posture slouching.  What a way to impress a girl.  He should've went for the fork first!
Noticing his sudden change of attitude, you slipped out of your seat and joined his side, leaning over him.  "Here," you swiped the chopsticks off of his plate and placed them in his hand once again, this time so they were in the correct positions.  "Now you've got the right hold on them."  Your fingers were still draped over his while you guided the sticks to another piece of sushi.  
Contrary to your concentration on helping, Ajax was a bit more flustered than usual and it wasn't because of the chopsticks.  For some reason his heart fluttered at the sudden lack of distance between the two of you, just like that night under the light of the Mingxiao lantern.  'You think I'm in love with childhood friend?  My my my, Mr. Zhongli, perhaps you've finally lost your marbles after spending so much time with mortals,' he recollected.  No...there's no way Zhongli's right about this.  This is all a fluke!  But your hand was so warm, no doubt because of your pyro vision...how long had it been since he felt such gentleness from another person?  The closest he's ever come to human contact was by beating his foes senseless!  And when was the last time he had a genuine hug?  It's been years, he realized, since before the inception of my Fatui status.
"There, see?  You'll get the hang of it."  He snapped back to the present when your hand quickly left his.  Whatever light had begun to gleam in his eyes faded just like the heat from your touch, and he watched you sit back down at your end of the table.  "You're not completely hopeless at chopsticks," you smirked.
"You're right, ojou-chan.  One day I'll surpass you when it comes to these cursed utensils!"  He hid his feelings by attempting to put your lesson to use, but failed drastically again and again.  It was obvious he didn't pay attention to a single thing you had told him to do! The boyish desire to one-up his best friend made you giggle again.
Somewhere behind the decorated divider that made up your private dining space sat the eyes and ears of the wolf.  Following Master Childe around proved to be fruitful just as expected; while the harbinger often held private meetings and dinners to get closer to clients, this one felt different based on all the others that Charlie had followed him to.  There was a distinct familiarity--one that Childe was definitely not faking for the sake of deceit and was shared with the mysterious girl sitting at the other end of the table.
I see, thought Charlie while his ears strained to pick up the other noncoherent whispers on the other side of the screen.  He'd been following Childe around all week and had quickly picked up on the harbinger's avoidance of his own men so that he could spend time with you.  Clearly, this woman must hold a special place in Childe's heart--an old flame, maybe?  Regardless of the specifics of your relationship with him, it would make the most sense for you to be the vigilante Childe has neglected to capture; the merciless blood-thirsty harbinger would've gone in for the kill if it were any other person, but since it's you...you'd be protected. Sheltered.  Allowed to get away with tormenting the Fatui since you're so close to Childe.  You're untouchable.
Of course, this was all just a theory.  To properly identify you as the vigilante Master seeks, he'd have to follow you around instead.
A chill ran down Childe's back out of nowhere; something's wrong.  While he continued to struggle with the remainder of the sushi, his gaze darted to every which-way to identify anything out of the ordinary.  He was sure the two of you weren't followed, and he had made every effort possible to avoid his subordinates on the way here, even setting up a private room that isn't too common in the Kiosk.  Still, he couldn't help but feel like he was being watched. You noticed the sudden tension in the air around him, and stared until he noticed.
"What's wrong?"
"Hm? Oh, nothing," his voice lower than a minute ago, "Please excuse me, ojou-chan.  I need to use the restroom."  He slipped out between two of the dividers and froze once he was out of your sight.  The remainder of the room was deserted. How odd...the tension in his shoulders slowly faded as he was put at ease.  
"Excuse me," a petite voice drug him out of his thoughts and he was greeted by the waitress.  She held a silver platter with a pair of matching deserts on it.  "Oh, have you changed your mind on desert after all?"
"No, not at all.  Please, allow me."  He took the tray from her and watched her exit the room.  With one final skeptical glance around the room, he returned to the inside of the dividers.
"Oh, and before I forget," Childe began to dig into a delicious chocolate desert you didn't remember the name of but seemed to be some sort of cake.  "I have a business trip coming up at the end of this week in Mondstat."
"Oh really?  That sounds fun.  How long will you be gone?"
"For a few days at the least.  Actually, I was wondering if you'd join me."
Your forkful of chocolate-something froze in midair.  "...Join...you...?  But I don't have anything to do with your company...I'd be a distraction, don't you think? Plus there's my business with the funeral parlor and I don't think I can request days off on such short--"
"I've already spoken to Zhongli about it.  He and Hu Tao cleared you as of last night.  So, what do you say?  Wouldn't this also give you the chance to visit some of your friends there anyway?"
"Well...yes..." you mumbled with a slight blush.
"What do you have to lose?  Think of it as a much-needed vacation.  You work too hard from what I've heard from Zhongli!  Besides, we can use this opportunity to learn more about each other, don't you think?"  Seeing your hesitation, he let out a defeated chuckle and shrugged.  "Of course, that's if you want to come with me.  If not, I understand."
"I..."  Well if my superiors approved, then I guess there's nothing wrong with taking a trip, right?  "Okay, I'll come with you."
................................................
The quiet peacefulness of Liyuan wilderness was disrupted by an exhausted groan and the dragging of feet.  "Ugh, since when was it ever this hot in Liyue?"  Your clothes were soaked in sweat from the summer-like heat despite your vision granting you resistance, but Childe appeared mostly unbothered--mostly.  He didn't show it, but when you'd look elsewhere he'd often pull at his collar and reminisce of the harsh winters of the Motherland.  "Thank the archons that the sun is finally setting."
"We've already passed Wangshu Inn, but it's not too late to turn back and spend the night there.  Are you sure you want to sleep in the woods, Reed?  You'd be passing up the chance to cuddle me, you know."  He reveled in your half-disgusted, half-flustered reaction while you struggled to fully comprehend his words.
"Q-Quit it!  Like I've said before, this wouldn't be my first trip to Mond.  I have no problem lying on the ground!  Or are you saying you can't handle it?"  Flipping the subject onto him did no good at hiding your flushing skin; the arrogant smirk on his face proved it.  "...Why don't we stay here?  There's the creek nearby, and a clearing up ahead."
Childe eyed the surrounding area and set his pack down.  "If the lady insists."  The pleasant aroma of packed food filled the two of you with delight.  "Shall I begin cooking dinner?"
"I wouldn't mind," you practically drooled.  Ajax's cooking was amazing! After that initial dinner when both of you reunited, he would sometimes surprise you with homecooked meals to take home and man were you excited for the next time he offered.  A toy seller and a cook...his younger siblings must live a luxury!  "I'll get some water!"
The creek wasn't too far away--perhaps some fifty feet or so.  The crystalline waters murmured quietly over the pebbles and stones, some spaces louder, others quieter where the fish gathered.  If it wasn't getting darker by the minute and the threat of hilichurls wasn't so prominent, you could've stayed here much longer.  Not that hilichurls posed that much of a threat to someone acquainted with your fighting skills, but you've only come across them once or twice, and the giant ones could easily bulldoze through you if given the chance.
Once the pot of water was full you rose to walk back to your little makeshift camp.  Ajax had insisted on bringing fresh produce since the trip to Mondstat wasn't a particularly long one and the trip was rather straightforward.  Maybe he was going to make stew?  Whatever he chose, you just hoped none of the food spoiled from the sun beating down on the packs all day.
By the time you got back, Ajax had already managed to start a fire and was humming some unknown tune while preparing the produce.  You couldn't help but raise a brow and tighten your hold on the pot.  "Um...really?"
"Hm?"  His eyes slid to you, then back to the fire.  "Oh! Sorry, I wasn't thinking.  Don't worry, Reed.  It won't bite you."
"I'm not coming close enough to feel the heat on my skin.  Here," you thrust the pot towards him and he made sure to grab it before the water spilled over.  Your light footsteps got quieter the further you strayed from Ajax and the fire, taking shelter beneath one of the far trees where your packs lay.  
"Relax, ojou-chan.  I won't let it hurt you."  A small chuckle escaped him before he resumed his humming session without a second thought or noticing your silence.  
You really don't remember...You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt.  What did they do to you, Ajax?
Your silence carried on until the crickets duetted with the occasional hoots of a nearby owl and the crackling of the fire weighed heavily on your mind.  "I'm sorry, ojou-chan."  
"Mm?"  He had stopped rambling about some disagreement he and a coworker had about communication and was now looking directly at you.  
"I'll put out the fire," he moved.
"No, you need to stay warm."
"I wouldn't say that."  He drug out a blanket from his pack and laid it in the space between where he sat by the fire and you, who sat at the tree behind him.  "Here.  You'll lay on that side, I'll lay next to the fire."
Your eyes narrowed at the flickering flames behind him.  "Is that even safe?"
"Well if the fire ever gets out of control, you or I can put it out," he reasoned and pat the spot next to him until you reluctantly obliged.  He didn't lay down until you were settled in with your back facing him.  Silence befell the campsite until he took a deep breath.  "What's on your mind, Reed?"
It took a few minutes for the answer to come out.  "Do you not remember our last encounter  before my mother and I left Snezhnaya?"
"Now that you mention it, not really."  He remembered a vague goodbye, but nothing else about it.  It was sometime right after he returned from the abyss if he got his timeline correct.  Feeling a tad nervous for whatever reason now, he let out a small laugh.  "Could you possibly enlighten--" You rolled around so you faced him and met his gaze with tears. That's when his memory came rushing back.
"Ajax!  Ajax!"  You ran at him full speed with hot tears spilling down your cheeks until you collided with him in a tight embrace.  "I--I thought they got you too!" He seemed to freeze under your touch, so you pulled away to look him over.  He appeared tired and wild for lack of a better term, with eyes as wide as saucers like a snow leopard meeting a human for the first time.  He was different, but you couldn't put your finger on how.
"'Too?'"
"The Fatui," you sobbed.  "A day after you went missing, my house...my daddy..."
His words came out as harsh as the cold with not a hint of his kind demeanor shining through. "Spit it out."
"You know how my daddy fights against the Fatui in my town? They burned my house down and...and daddy..." Was your face red from crying all day or from the cold?  "...he burned with it."  Ajax didn't seem injured, so some of the stress weighing your shoulders down dissipated a bit now that you knew your dear friend wasn't hurt.
But instead of Ajax explaining where he was or consoling you for the loss of your father, a horrid giggle pierced through the snowscape.  It was inhuman, what with its pitch sending an icy chill down your spine and instantly replacing your expression of sorrow to one of confusion and horror.  "Ha...Hahahaha! Hahahahah!"
"Why are you laughing? This isn't funny!"
"Ahahaha!  Silly Reed," he chided and pat your head like one consoles a younger sibling, "in this world, only the strong survive.  Your father wasn't strong enough." The girl before him trembled at his words.  "He was too weak if he died like that."
"Th--This isn't funny, Ajax! Cut it--OW!"  You were shoved into the snow with an unfamiliar strength.  Ajax never raised a hand at you, even when you two played together.  What was he--
A dangerous glint danced in his eyes like the fire that consumed your house two days ago. "No, you cut it out!  You're gonna get yourself killed if you keep acting weak.  The world has no mercy on people like us.  It's kill or be killed.  Do you understand that, Reed?"
"Why are you...What is the matter with you?!  Don't you care? What did the Fatui do to you?!  Who even are you?"  Hot tears rolled down your cheeks until the cold froze them in their tracks.  Yet the boy that stared down at you was uncaring, cruel, and held no life in his eyes.
"It wasn't the Fatui," he muttered to himself.  "Hurry up and get on with it already.  What was really so important that you needed to tell me your dad died?"
"My mama and I...we're leaving tomorrow.  I came to make sure you were okay and to say goodbye.  We won't see each other again, Ajax," you finally rose to your feet and clenched your fists.  "But you don't care, do you?"
"No.  I don't.  Leave me alone already."
"I..." Ajax blinked several times as he processed his long-forgotten memory.  "I'm so sorry, Reed."
"If you're so sorry, then tell me what happened.  What did the Fatui do to you?" Even in the dark, you could see a hint of sadness in the depths of his eyes.  "If they hurt you too I swear...I swear I'll make every single one of them pay."  Heat radiated from your body at the thought.  "I promise." Yet even as you said this, there was another, darker, more bittersweet emotion in his expression.
"I...fell into the Abyss."  Those were the only words he muttered before rolling onto his other side, facing away from you.  And though you didn't really understand what he meant, his empty tone struck a cord within you.  Warm arms gently wrapped around his torso with a heat softer than the campfire that lulled him to sleep.
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torilovestowrite · 4 years ago
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Dabi x Reader; Try Again pt. 8
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Synopsis: Years ago, (Y/n) was left by her villain boyfriend, Dabi after discovering an unexpected news. Ever since then, she never had a lover— focusing on her only son, Yuta. Later on, she meets Todoroki Touya— a new co-worker who seem to be persistent towards winning her heart and attention.
Ship: Dabi x Fem! Reader
❗❗❗Content Warning: Mentions of Abortion, Unplanned Pregnancy, Manga spoilers, Dabi is a Todoroki theory
🖤 » Chapter Navigation « 🖤
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"Yuta L/n, you're not going out!" Y/n strictly reprimanded as she tried to keep her son still from his position, lying on bed with a cold towel on his forehead.
It was during a Wednesday when Yuta, y/n's son, had a fever that reached over 41 degrees. Y/n felt threatened about this because her son has never reached this temperature. It's too high— and he also stated something about his body feeling heavy. What could be happening?
"B-but... we're about to watch a movie in school today! I don't want to miss it!" Yuta began bawling his eyes out while Y/n sighed at his dramatic tone. Does it really have to be like this? Yuta has to be emotional and sensitive every time he gets sick? This only reminds her of him— the way he would caress her soft hands every time she would tend his wounds every after a tiring day— the man he used to love, Dabi, would appear to be more gentle and affectionate every time he gets worn out... or ill.
"We're going to watch a movie while you take a rest here at home, okay?" Y/n gently tapped her son's side in an attempt to make him close his eyes and sleep. "For now, take a rest. Or else, it would take longer before you could go outside."
Immediately, Yuta turned his back from his mother in an attempt to be more comfortable; and to have a good sleep. Y/n smiled at his actions. Good thing, her son has always been considerate on her hardwork and the way she disciplines him.
It wasn't too long until she heard a notification from her phone— a message coming from Touya.
touya ❣ : good morning y/n. how's ur pretty face doing?
It's been four months since y/n realized her feelings for Touya. Both of them started dating two months ago and so far, he has been understanding towards her obligations as a mother. Most of their dates included Yuta and there are times when Touya would volunteer to watch over him while she's away during her day shifts. Y/n could never ask for anything— Touya was doing his job greatly; as a boyfriend and as a paternal figure to Yuta.
you : yeah, i'm all good babe. thanks for asking. but yuta's sick rn... i dont really have anyone to take care of him and i need to go for my day shift.
touya ❣ : you want me to go for it? i mean, i only work during nights anyways
Y/n's smile lit up as she read his message. Finally! She thought. She could go to work!
you: sure thing babe 💗✨
Few more minutes, when Yuta has finally travelled to dreamland, Y/n left the house, wearing her thick f/c coat with her hair styled to become more neat-looking. Another day for work, she thought.
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It's been two hours since Touya arrived in Y/n's home. Using the spare key under her house's doormat, he decided to enter her house that was silent when he went inside. Until he heard a child's high-pitched scream coming from Yuta's bedroom. His instinct caused him to immediately run towards this direction; but what he saw caused a heavy sensation in his chest. Those familiar blue flames that was once his signature— as Dabi; the heartless villain who claimed 30 innocent lives.
"U-Uncle T-Touya!" Yuta cried in panic while his right hand was burning with blue and heated fire. "W-What should I do?! M-my—"
"Breathe." Touya immediately replied as he kneeled next to him, rubbing his back with his huge and rough hands. "You have to control your breathing and your emotions. You have to control it because the more you panic, the more it will get stronger."
Yuta closed his eyes and focused in calming himself down— taking deep breaths and thinking about things that he liked in life— ice cream, Y/n, Uncle Touya, pro-heroes... all the things that makes him happy. Slowly, the fire became smaller and smaller— until nothing appeared on his hands.
"I-It's gone! The blue flames!" Yuta exclaimed as a grin crept on his face. "Did you see that awesome thing on my hand, Uncle Touya?! That must be my quirk, right?"
"Yes, it's an awesome quirk that you have." Touya smiled sadly as he stared at the young and naive child— as if he was seeing his past self; the pure child who was corrupted by his father's evil desires and deeds. It was all fun and games knowing he has an awesome quirk like that... until his father, Enji Todoroki, decided to ruin everything for him.
But he swore to be someone better than him; to be a man suitable to be called a father.
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That afternoon, Y/n arrived at her home with such beautiful sight; Touya and Yuta scooped in each others' arms while the movie was left streaming. She smiled at the sight. It was so cute. For a few seconds, she almost believed that Touya was Yuta's father. The young mother couldn't help it but to take a picture of the two while having their peaceful slumber.
"I saw you," Touya spoke, "Delete it."
Y/n giggled as Touya stood up from his position as he tried to grab the phone away from her hands. It was such a cute sight. She was sticking her tongue out while she was trying to chase him. Y/n couldn't help but to feel as if they were all.. what? 17? Whatever, it felt cute, though.
"Yeah, whatever. Have that pic all you want. You can even make it your wallpaper." Y/n got her cheeks pinched by him as he gave her a light kiss on the nose. "I'm going now, sweet cheeks, I'm attending night shift for tonight."
"Sure, sure." Y/n smiled, planting a kiss on his cheek, as she watched his lean and toned figure leave their house. All that's left is her and Yuta. Slowly, his eyes opened to see his mother watching him sleep.
"Mommy?" Yuta spoke in a drowsy tone.
Y/n responded, hugging her son beside her while his eyes still looked sleepy. Seems that the sleep wasn't enough for him, huh? The young lady laughed at this, ruffling his hair, and deciding to ask him. "How was your day with Uncle Touya? Is it better than it was when you're at school?"
The young lad aggressively nodded and decided to tell Y/n the greatest thing that he discovered today.
"My quirk just manifested, ma! I have blue flames!" Yuta exclaimed as he tried to show it off with the tip of his fingers. Y/n's eyes widened at this— it created a tingling feeling in her heart. It was like a slap on her face. Yuta is really Dabi's son, isn't he?
"T-That's awesome." Y/n replied, trying to stop tears from flowing.
While her son was still busy talking about his day, her hands were able to feel something on the couch. It was... hard. She pulled out to see a black leather wallet. Did Touya forget his stuff here? Y/n sighed at his forgetfulness. Well, he's a person, she thought, so he has flaws too.
"Did Uncle Touya forget that, ma?" Yuta asked in a polite tone. "Bring it back to him tomorrow, okay?"
Y/n smiled at what he said. She really raised her son well. "Sure!"
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It was night time. Yuta went back to sleep and Y/n was busy contemplating inside her room— walking back and forth; thinking about whether she should check his stuff or what.
It's not what others would think. It's just that it's been two months since they got together but Touya only says few things about himself. All she knew is that his parents are living overseas and he's left alone here. He has siblings who lived with their parents in abroad. Nothing more, nothing less.
Aside from that, it wouldn't hurt to peek just a little bit, right?
Y/n sighed as she finally came to a conclusion to check his wallet to see if there's something that would tell more about himself. It's not like she was nosy. She just wants to get to know him at a better level. He's quite of a silent and mysterious guy himself, which got the young lady curious about him.
Of course, there was nothing new; just few IDs, bunch of credit cards (which Y/n thought was odd because if he had this much money, why would he work in an old bar as a bartender), and a thin wad of cash. Nothing else— until something that was so unordinary in her eyes— fell.
Her eyes widened as she saw that memoribilia. No words could come out from her mouth. Her vision felt so dark; as if it was slowly fading; and her heart hurt so much. Only tears could come out from her eyes. No scream, no words, no phrases— simply, nothing.
"Y-you..." Her fists clenched tightly as her form started shaking— she didn't know what to feel. Is it anger, sadness, remorse— what should she feel first? She began to wail as she stared and touched at this object from the past. Whatever that happened was too painful for her to bear.
"You fooled me... Dabi."
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That night, Touya was looking for his wallet. It was nowhere to be found; not even in his car. Maybe he left it at your place? Well, whatever the circumstances are, he was hoping that none of you would be able to find it. Maybe, he'd drive towards your place again and—
His thoughts were interrupted as his phone rang. The caller ID showed Y/n— and a selfie that she sent him as the profile picture. Immediately, he answered it.
"Hello, bab—"
"Don't you babe me. We have to talk." Y/n's voice sounded cold and harsh. She was angry... and he knew it. Touya knew that tone several years ago; and if he hears that, he knows that hell will break because of her wrath.
"What is it?"
"Stop acting dumb." Y/n scoffed.
"How the hell are you alive, Dabi?"
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Taglist [OPEN]: @babayaga67 @marydragneell @xxtrash-kingxx @paranoiac-666 @velvet-kissesss @orenjineki @mermaid-starlet @ikita454 @yo-girl-lunar @pansexual-booknerd @daimiyu
a/n: i kinda did stop updating this but like bnha chapter 290 got me like 😭😭😭😭 dabi can i give u a hug plspslslslsl 😗😗
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fireemblems24 · 4 years ago
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I am so glad you pointed out the imperialist vibes Edelgard has sometimes. As someone who lives in a country who was basically occupied ahem conquered because they said "we have better ideas that will improve your lives" and had our culture absolutely shattered, one of the main reasons why I disagree with Edelgard so much is because of that. She thinks her point of view is superior and the most morally right and I really don't like it whenever she sounds so confused about people defending their homeland. Especially that one line she has with Dimitri in Chapter 17 ffffff—
Like, girl, they have the fucking right to disagree with you please stop sounding so confused as to why they can't see eye to eye with you gahhhhh
I would be more tolerant with the war if she had say, did diplomacy before it? But she tried to had Dimitri and Claude killed in Part I (the prologue). I would also understand her better if the war was a last resort and the other leaders were corrupt and all that. But they're not. Many of the students (who have power because many are noble heirs) outside her house are heavily affected by the nobility and Crests (Sylvain, Ingrid, Mercedes, Lysithea, etc.) or at least understanding of the problems caused by them (Dimitri). It's so frustrating how so much of this can be prevented if she just talked about it.
Also, to those who said she wants the change to be quick, even with war it won't be. The fucking war basically caused continent-wide damage. It's going to be so hard to actually fix this. Hell, there's definitely going to be an eventual rebellion by former Kingdom / Alliance people or sympathisers. It's not going to be as clean cut as the game or some pro-Edelgard people make it to be. Not everyone is going to agree with her, whether she takes over or not. She just destroyed the stability of the continent and while yes, she can rebuild it again, it will still take time and who's to say future leaders won't be corrupt? Also, a hierarchy will always exist, whether she likes it or not. Especially if she plans to set up a meritocracy. Meritocracy is going to usually end up giving power and privilege to those with already pre-existing privilege as they the opportunity to show off their merits or develop those skills. Poor and disabled people are going to have difficulty as they don't have equal opportunity to develop skills and accomplish stuff. I'm generalising, but it just ends up as a hierarchy, again. Not only that, it also has ways to enforce discrimination.
Basically, what I'm trying to say is, she needs to long term plan out her systems. I apologise since I have bad memory but as far as I remember, the game doesn't give us too many details on how she wants to establish her system. All I remember is she does the war > Church / Rhea out of power > Establish her government > ???. Someone please clear this up for me because I'm confused.
...and again really, diplomatic reforms are an option. Yes, they're much more tedious. Yes, they take so much more longer. Yes, sometimes it feels impossible to accomplish. But did she not even consider it as an option?
All in all, I do like Edelgard. But I really wish the game let us go against her while we're with her? I wish it wasn't just general "agree with Edelgard" for CF. I remember someone pointing it out to me before that it would've been really great if she had someone in her house who does the same role Felix does in AM... which is basically disagree and call out the lord's shit. And they pointed out Ferdinand could've probably been that character for CF. And I kinda agree? I really think CF would immensely improve if Edelgard had a challenger / foil to her beliefs similar to how Felix does that for Dimitri.
Anyway, sorry for the very long ask lol. I like Edelgard and I agree with some of her morals and ideals such as the crest system being bad but....she's done so dirty asdfghjkl. I do think she's written well enough to incite these emotions in me, and she makes for a good antagonist. As a protagonist lord however.... yeah.
First off, sorry it took so long to respond, but I wanted to give an equally throughout response. 
While I haven’t gotten to chapter 17 yet, I can attest to the notion that Edelgard’s rhetoric is eerily similar to Imperialist propaganda. I do understand this is fiction, and that it’s okay to hand-wave/enjoy things in fiction that you shouldn’t or wouldn’t in real life. Crimson Flower has its charms and parts I enjoy. Edelgard is an interesting character more hampered by things that plague Three Houses as a whole than anything else, but it’s still worth examining how dangerous her rhetoric is. Because, unlike you, my country sits at the opposite end - the Imperialist nation selling that rhetoric to its citizens, and, unfortunately, at the time I bought it - which makes me really sensitive to this. 
I’m from the US and I’m specifically speaking about the US’s invasion of the Middle East. I was in middle or high school, just barely a teenager, and naive and ignorant enough to believe what my leaders said. Because guess what? I bought into it out of misplaced and ignorant (and racist) compassion. I was horrified at the idea these people were suffering unfairly just because of where they were born whereas I got all these promised privileges just because of where I was born. I really thought the US would go in there and give them democracy and everything would be great. Looking back, I realize they were lying, that we’ve only made things worse, that it’s horribly racist to assume the US was just inherently better, and I’ve sense then gained access to fast-speed internet, traveled, matured, etc . . . and thankfully this all happened before I had any actual power to do anything like vote. But to this day I’m beyond pissed off they used my own compassion against me to line their own pockets. It was ignorant and racist, but it was all based in concern that others didn’t have the same quality of life I had and a growing realization of my own privilege. And that’s what I hate so much. It didn’t sound evil. It sounded good. It used people’s good will and compassion against them and twisted it into evil for their own causes. 
I don’t think Edelgard is after Faerghus and the Alliance because she wants oil. I think she honestly thinks she’s doing good. And, if this were real life, I think that makes her rhetoric even more dangerous than a corrupt politicians’.  Because everything else is still the same. She’s being ignorant, nationalist instead of racist in this case, and honestly thinks her moral superiority will improve everyone’s lives even if it means ravaging the entire content in war. She is dangerously naive and ignorant. 
Maybe I’d support her more morally if I believed for an instant the general populace welcomed the changes she wants to bring, if the leaders she fought against weren’t open and wanting change themselves, ect . . . But the dialogue indicated her presence inspires people running and screaming in terror, not welcoming her presence (see the chapter where you kill Claude). The Kingdom is still fighting tooth and nail against her. She’s not supported. Her changes aren’t wanted. And she hasn’t bothered to learn a single thing about the cultures she’s determined to squash under her heal nor the leaders heading them. 
I also think I’d support her better if we had a clearer idea of what her plans were. But CF has shifted from Edelgard speaking about interesting ideas and classism to evil dragon overlords and chastising Byleth for making her blush. The decision to side with her or Rhea is not choosing between two ideals, but an emotional, spur of the moment thing. Edelgard’s early supports with Byleth attempt to convince the player to side with her not based on political ideals, but on feeling sorry for her. 
CF gives you no choice but to agree with everything Edelgard says (as you said, there’s no “Felix” or a “Lorenz”). It wants you to support her war without question, and therefore you don’t get any answers to questions like - if this is really just about Rhea, why are we invading the Alliance? Because they won’t hand power over to you? Why didn’t you just stick to the Empire to enact your changes? In the end, you’re left with what sounds more and more like an entitled Imperialistic princess with absolutely no idea how ignorant she is hell bent on conquering what she thinks belongs to her based on a conspiracy theory. 
All that said, I do think Edelgard has interesting ideas and isn’t wholly wrong, just how she goes about it is horribly wrong. And I fully believe the core issue is how CF has dropped the ball big time writing wise, because diving deeper into her ideas and not her crush on you would go a long way. So would shifting the narrative away from evil boogey dragon lady must die and everyone else is wrong and I am superior and right and more towards a clashing of ideals, this route could’ve been a lot more and seemed a lot less ignorant, naive, entitled, and Imperialistic. 
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keelywolfe · 4 years ago
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FIC: Tarnished Knights (one-shot)
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Summary: Edge isn't really interested in reading whatever books Stretch seemed to think he needs. He has enough problems trying to read their relationship.
Tags: Spicyhoney, Complicated Relationships, Flirtation, Budding Love, Idiots in Love
Read it on AO3
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Read it here!
~~*~~
“hey, edgelord, i found some books for you.”
Edge did not look up from the papers he had spread across the table. He was designing a new puzzle trap and hardly needed any distractions. Not that he shouldn’t have been expecting one. These days Stretch came over often when he knew Edge would be home from patrol, despite Edge’s discomfort at having him in Underfell. So long as he stayed inside the house, there should be no issues, but there was always a prickle of unease when he appeared, a brief moment where Edge resisted the urge to send him home to the safety of Underswap. Then he would remember why Stretch was visiting and that urge would vanish, tucked beneath a more visceral, and pleasurable, one.
Red tended to make himself scarce when Stretch was on a solo visit and while Edge didn’t care for him spending extra time at Grillby’s, he also didn’t blame him for his desertion. Stretch’s normal lazy behavior tended to vanish when it came to bedroom activities and instead were best described as both enthusiastic and loud.
Better that Red left, otherwise Edge might well be treated to another of his brother’s morning score reviews and the less he heard Red say things like ‘wails like a cat stuck in a beat-up aluminum trashcan at the end of an alley in downtown san francisco. gotta give ‘im 6 out of 10’, the better.
Stretch hadn’t asked before coming over, sending a text only moments before popping in as he often did. Ignoring him was always an exercise in futility, for a variety of reasons, but Edge tried. There was something to be said for anticipation, something delightful, and he intended to keep Stretch waiting as long as he could manage.
Despite his efforts, distraction still came in the form of a rumpled paper sack dropped down on table, right on top of his plans. Edge growled impatiently and shoved the bag out of his way, glaring up at his…well, that was a discussion for another day. His semi-clone from another universe would do for now, and said clone was smirking down at him with the stick of a lollipop poking out from between his teeth. Smoking in the house was verboten for both Edge and Blue, and so Stretch often found alternate means of keeping his mouth busy.
Both the innuendo in that and the sight of his tongue curling around the candy behind his teeth threatened another mental derailment and Edge hastily turned his attention to the bag at hand.
“I don’t need any books.”
Stretch made a scoffing sound and plopped down on the sofa with his legs sprawling apart, since sitting properly would have been reasonable and efficient, and Stretch was neither. “everybody needs books. books are the keys to the imagination and, buddy, you need to unlock a door.”
“There is nothing wrong with my imagination and I don’t need any more books,” Edge said. “I have my puzzle books.” And a tattered copy of ‘Peekaboo With Fluffy Bunny’ hidden away where prying eyes would not easily find it.
“oh, yeah, riveting,” Stretch snorted. He unwrapped another sucker and popped it into his mouth, the candy clacking against his teeth as he rolled it to one side. “that’ll get the ol’ imagination roaring like lions on your mind savannah.”
“I beg your pardon, are you suggesting your copy of the ‘Principles of Quantum Mechanics’ stimulates your imagination?”
“yeah, actually, but i also have a copy of this just in case that doesn’t do the trick.” He sat up and rummaged through the bag, yanked out a book to shove directly into Edge’s face. “it works some pretty good magic once you get into it.”
He leaned back enough to focus on the cover, “The Once and Future King,” Edge read aloud without enthusiasm. His experiences with kings were not something he wanted to repeat in his leisure time.
“yeah, yeah, i can feel your doubt. c’mon, you’ll like it, just give it a try. for me?” Stretch wheedled. He batted his sockets and despite the lack of eyelashes, it was not entirely ineffective.
If Edge’s interest in the book was middling, his interest in Stretch was not, lacking definition but not depth. Still, it didn’t pay to give in too easily, especially when it was someone else acquiring the debt.
“What do I get if I do?” Edge countered. From the way Stretch’s smirk widened, his sockets sinking down to hood his eye lights, he’d chosen well.
“well, all that book-learnin’ gave me a hell of an imagination.” Stretch pulled the half-eaten sucker out of his mouth and tossed it carelessly into the nearby trash bin without so much as looking at it. With the sly grace he so rarely showed, he pushed Edge back against the sofa and straddled his lap, tongue gliding over his teeth as he murmured, “bet i can think of something.”
The taste of his magic was sweeter than the candy, and coupled with that kiss, it was headily addictive. Edge forgot entirely about puzzles and kings and books, lying back and letting Stretch’s imagination sweep them away.
~~*~~
Much later that night, Stretch was curled up sleeping next to him and it was a good thing that once he was asleep, he tended to stay that way no matter what. Normally the tendency was (terrifying) annoying. He’d never have survived his childhood in Underfell.
Tonight, Edge found he was grateful for it because despite the unforeseen exercise of the past few hours, he found himself restless and unable to sleep. Normally he might get up and clean, a deep scrub of the bathroom tiles made for an excellent mindless chore, but Stretch staying over was a rare occurrence and he wanted to stay close by. If he woke and found himself alone, he might think himself unwelcome and that would go against Edge’s very much unspoken wish that he stay over more often rather than shambling off after sex with a faint limp and a laconic smile.
Asking for such a thing was more likely to get Stretch sprinting back to Underswap than wish fulfillment, so Edge said nothing and quietly hoped actions spoke louder than words, at least enough to either get through Stretch’s thick, brilliant skull or beneath his prickly, non-existent skin.
But none of that helped tonight. Sleep lingered out of reach and Edge rolled over again, sighing to himself as he stared out into his bedroom.
Artificial light streamed in through his barred window and landed on his desk, illuminating the contents. He’d tidied up the living room before they’d gone upstairs to finish what was started on the sofa —leaving any mess only gave Red leverage for maddening sock placement— and the bag of books was sitting on his desk, set there by Stretch as evidenced by its haphazard placement. It had fallen over and books were spilling out from the top.
Since getting up was out of the question, Edge reached out with his magic, clumsily using two bones like an oversized pair of chopsticks to grasp the book like a grain of rice. He made a mental note to work on that particular exercise again, who knew when it might come in handy, as he flicked on the small lamp on the bedside table. He’d try a page or two, if only to make Stretch happy, and then claim his reward for the attempt.
He opened the first page, already unimpressed with the first nonsensical sentence, and wondering why Stretch thought he would find this interesting. He hoped whatever reward he received for the attempt would be worth it.
Some hours later, his spine ached from hunching over the book that was gripped so tightly in his hands the pages occasionally threatened to tear. His eye sockets felt dry and gritty as he greedily scoured the last page and at the end, he stared at the final words, hardly able to believe there was no more. His mind was still awhirl with thoughts of knights and wizards, a fallible king who was worthy of following and yet still betrayed, honor earned and lost by those who were rich in virtue and brought down by their foibles.
“you liked it, huh.”
Edge startled, the book falling from his hands, and jerked around to see Stretch was watching him. He was still curled around the pillow, sunk into its soft depths with only one eye light visible from within a barely opened socket. Normally, that drowsy, inviting warmth was a temptation in itself, but this morning Edge’s thoughts were in turmoil.
Underfell was home, whether or not the people here wanted him, they certainly needed him, a tarnished knight to fight their battles, and here he would stay, stubbornly some (everyone) said, but weren’t there times he wished to escape it, if only briefly? Traveling to the other universes for a meal or for company, a chance to go somewhere else, be someone else, not the Great and Terrible Papyrus, but Edge, who was neither great nor terrible, and somehow still appreciated for it.
It never occurred to him he could leave without even stepping through his front door and bring his adventure back with him when he returned.
“Yes,” Edge admitted. “I did."
“yeah, i liked that one, too,” Stretch rolled onto his back, stretching out his long limbs beneath the blankets and letting out a satisfied groan as joints popped, “figured you might dig in.”
“Is that why you brought it?” Edge asked, curiously, “did you wonder if I would like it because you did?” When they’d first met the others, there had been some experimenting to determine the differences not only in their worlds, but in each other, down to their taste in condiments. That had dwindled off as they’d gotten to know each other, but he wouldn’t be surprised to learn Stretch still want to test a few theories.
Instead of agreeing, Stretch pushed up on an elbow in automatic protest, “no! i just—” That burst trailed off and he sank back down to the mattress, his face twisting in complex emotions.
Edge said nothing, only waited without demanding an answer. He wasn’t particularly skilled at reading others and worse when it came to Stretch, but he was slowly learning. If he didn’t press, there was a chance Stretch would give him an honest answer rather than a pun or some other deflection. It said less about himself and more Stretch’s issues when it came to any kind of emotional intimacy, but he still found himself holding his breath, almost superstitiously afraid of frightening him off.
Finally, Stretch shrugged, a certain forced carelessness in the roll of his shoulders. “i just wanted to give you something you’d like.” Then, a little softer, like a confession, “you deserve nice things.”
Edge glanced at the paper bag still sitting on his desk. He wouldn’t be able to stay up reading every night, only ones where the restlessness refused to abate, but that happened often enough and there were plenty of books still inside, more worlds to explore and adventures to be had.
Meanwhile, Stretch had been busily shoring up his defenses while Edge was distracted. His expression was closed off, set in the lines of his normal carefree easiness as he sat up, yawning deliberately. “seriously, edgelord, it’s only a damn book, don’t read too much into it. heh. anyway, i should head home so you can go on patrol.”
He should, time was creeping into late morning. Red was probably already napping at his sentry station. There was no reason for him to lean in and press his mouth to the tempting curve at the back of Stretch’s skull where it met his spine, except for the fact that he knew Stretch was sensitive there and always shivered at the lightest touch. He did now, a quiver rattling through his bones as he ducked his head to allow better access, a little groan catching in his throat.
“or not,” Stretch sighed out. He sank willingly back to the mattress with Edge following him down. His hands settled lightly on Edge’s back, fingertips drifting delicately against the scar-hewn bones with renewed promise.
At the cusp of giving in to temptation, Edge thought briefly of Arthur and Lancelot and Guinevere, their successes and mistakes, endings and the hope of new beginnings. Then he set those thoughts aside. As rich as that fantasy was, there was something to be said for reality and as he drew Stretch into his arms, Edge was content with his own.
For now.
-finis-
34 notes · View notes
hottestthingalive · 5 years ago
Text
a storm in your eyes (lightning and dark skies)
It is then, with Virgil curled up against him, wet hair soaking Logan’s neck and the smell of hot chocolate in the air, that Logan realizes he loves a thunderstorm in human form. 
His best friend.
Oh, god, Logan is in love with his best friend. And also his roommate. And also his favorite person in the whole of the universe.
(He’s pretty sure that if Virgil could hear his thoughts, and if, y’know, Virgil wasn’t the person in question, he’d roll his eyes and say, “Oh my god, they were roommates.” The idea nearly makes him laugh.) 
Notes: Thank you so much to @snek-snacc, @smileyzs, @confused-sunflower, @xaimelarks​, and all my other followers for putting up with me ranting about this story, and helping me edit. Y’all are the best!
Edit: After publishing this, I got this AMAZING piece of art from @ent-is-undecisive / @birdsongisland! Go check them out, because they’re insanely talented, and looking at this piece makes me so so so happy!
Two sequels also exist for this now! 
waffles and wedding vows (promises and proof)
songs and stars and silence (of loving you)
Hope you enjoy!
Relationships: Romantic Analogical, background romantic Royaliceit, background romantic Intrusleep/rem^2, platonic drlamper
Words: 6885
Ao3
Logan Sanders falls in love with a thunderstorm.
Well, not a thunderstorm, exactly. As far as Logan knows (and he knows quite a lot), a tempest, no matter how powerful, cannot take the form of a human.
Still, the first time the boy with a hurricane’s eyes enters Mugnificent (the coffee shop Logan very reluctantly works at), he swears the smell of ozone fills the air. 
His name is Virgil Foley, and he sweeps into Logan’s life like a summer storm, filling it with wind and chaos and unmatched wild beauty. 
The first time they meet, it is 5:26 in the morning, and he’s considering revolt. Yes, he needs this job to supplement his scholarship, but being up this early is awful enough to warrant mutiny. Besides, customers are few this early in the day, and thus the tip jar is woefully empty. 
The door opens with a ding 
(there is a smell like lightning)
and in walks a person with dark hair tied in a bun under a black beanie, rummaging around in their backpack. Their bag is covered in pins, and Logan notes a rainbow one near the center. 
“Hey,” they say, and he meets eyes the color of stormclouds, a grey bordering on purple and blue simultaneously. “Can I just get a small coffee, please? Black is fine.” 
“Yeah,” Logan nods. “Name?”
They glance around the empty Mugnificent with a raised eyebrow, but reply with “Virgil,” anyways. 
“Nice to meet you, Virgil,” says Logan, and he’s not normally one for small talk, but he also is sleep-deprived, and too tired to have any sort of filter. “I’m Logan.”
Virgil relaxes, and they hold out a hand for him to shake. “Nice to meet you, too. I use he/him pronouns, by the way.”
“Ah, yes,” Logan nods, returning the handshake. “He/him for me, as well, thank you.”
Virgil pays and waits by the counter as Logan goes to prepare the coffee, scrolling through his phone. There is a comfortable silence as he makes the drink, which Logan spends mentally cursing out Roman, his coworker who was supposed to arrive for work thirty minutes ago. “Here,” he says finally, holding out the cup for Virgil to take. 
“Thanks.” Virgil is wearing fingerless gloves, and his nails are painted a bright purple. They shine in the fluorescent lighting. “Have a nice day, Logan.”
“You too,” he replies, and it seems too little. Logan doesn’t believe in magic, or gods, or destiny, but as he watches Virgil turn, about to walk out the door, something twangs in his chest. Despite himself, Logan opens his mouth, searching for something to say, anything that will make him stay. 
He blinks, about to speak, and Virgil is gone.
A few minutes later, it begins to rain. 
The second time he meets Virgil, it is in his psych class. 
Logan has always liked psychology. It’s fascinating how the human brain works, he thinks, and even if he isn’t always so good at understanding emotions, he’s quite good at the science behind them. His appreciation for said science is the only reason he signs up for the class at all, when it has practically nothing to do with his astrophysics major. 
He’s just about forgotten about the boy with eyes of a storm by the time he sits down for the first psychology class of the semester, pulling his computer and textbooks out of his own bag, and setting them before him. Logan cracks the knuckles on each hand individually, a nervous habit he’s had since he was in high school. He’s done his best to break it, but he supposes, as annoying as it is, it’s better than some of the alternatives.
Case in point, the boy from Mugnificent, who walks into the room nervously tapping his thigh while chewing at his lip. There’s a split in it, one that shines a bright red against the chapped surface, and Logan wants to wince just looking at it. 
His eyes flash with recognition as he spots Logan in one of the back rows, and he pauses. “Logan, right? From the coffee place.”
“And you’re Virgil,” Logan smiles, and okay, maybe he hadn’t forgotten Virgil so much as attempted to forget him. 
“Can I sit there?” he asks, nodding to the seat beside Logan. 
It turns out Virgil is smart, and funny, and just a little bit snarky, and a English major minoring in psychology. He’s got all kinds of nervous habits, chewing on his lip and tapping out rhythms known only to him and drawing on every available surface, and Logan often notices a tendril of ink wrapping around one of his fingers from under his gloves. 
They become fast friends, him and Virgil, bonding over a love for space and science and poetry. He starts coming to Mugnificent for coffee more often, and Roman teases Logan incessantly about it. 
“You’re finally making friends!” he pretends to sob, throwing his arms around him, and he has to shove Roman away, rolling his eyes. Virgil is stifling a laugh behind one gloved hand, and Logan mouths “Traitor,” at him, though he isn’t really mad at all.
They fall into patterns -- psych and history and statistics together, always seated side by side, sometimes accompanied by Roman or Patton or Remus or Janus or any one of their expanding circle of friends. The two of them buy each other coffee, edit essays, go out for junk food (that Logan complains about but secretly loves) with their friends. 
Virgil begs to paint Logan’s nails one night as they watch documentaries together in Patton and Virgil’s dorm room. His tongue sticks out of his mouth slightly as he focuses on the tiny white dots he’s adding, and Logan ends up loving the night sky that graces his fingers. In return, Logan styles Virgil’s long hair into a crown of braids. 
“Your Majesty,” he bows as he leads Virgil to the mirror. 
“If I’m royalty now, I demand a feast to celebrate,” Virgil grins, admiring his hair. “Sir Logan, this calls for pizza!”
“All the junk food you consume is going to kill you one day,” Logan sighs, but he’s already dialing their favorite pizza place.
They eat dinner seated on the floor, holding paper plates and drinking soda as they watch Cosmos. Patton returns to the dorm a few minutes later, accompanied by Janus and Roman both, and snags some of the pizza for himself – luckily, they’d thought to order extra, as soon Remus, Remy, and Emile all show up, too, crowding into the dorm room and around Logan’s laptop. The documentary is switched to Big Hero 6, Virgil showing off his hair and Logan his nails as the others admire them. Soon Virgil is breaking out his nail polish again, painting delicate puppies on Patton’s fingers, and Logan is teaching Roman how to do the same hairstyle on Emile’s curls. 
It’s a Saturday night, so they feel comfortable all crashing in Patton and Virgil’s room, squeezing far too many young adults into one small space. Emile giggles that it reminds them of sleepovers they went to when they were in elementary school, and Remus points out that they ought to play Truth or Dare with a manic grin. Virgil quickly puts a stop to that, however, distracting Remus with conspiracy theories and carving marshmallows to look like Lovecraftian monsters, and Logan wants to laugh because Virgil is very much a mom friend, despite his protests to the contrary. Still, as he sips hot cocoa with a marshmallow Cthulhu staring up at him from the mug, he has to admit it was a good idea. They all get into the fun, carving marshmallows with whatever cutlery Patton and Virgil have in their room, and eventually Monster Mallows will become a tradition for all of their friend group. 
When he falls asleep that night, lying on the floor in the blanket fort Patton and Roman had insisted on building, he dreams of rain and lightning, across dark skies that resemble Virgil’s eyes. 
Logan realizes Virgil is his best friend in the middle of winter, when he shows up at Mugnificent at the end of his shift, ordering two coffees and taking them as Logan gets ready to leave. “Sorry, Roman,” Virgil says, though he doesn’t look sorry at all as he hands Logan one of the drinks and reaches out to hold his other hand. “C’mon, L, we’ve got to hurry if we’re going to get there in time.”
“Where are we going?” Logan raises an eyebrow, throwing on his coat and waving goodbye to Roman (who is saying something dramatic about a grievous betrayal) as he sips at the coffee. It’s perfect, his order exactly. 
“Look!” Virgil grins as they leave the coffee shop, and it’s snowing, white flakes falling around them and coating the ground. Some of the cars nearby are already covered in it. “C’mon, we’ve got to get to the park.” 
“Wait, why?” he asks. “Virgil, this looks rather like the makings of a blizzard. We should probably go back to our dorms so we can prepare if we get snowed in.”
“I know it’s a snowstorm,” Virgil rolls his eyes, and his stormy eyes are bluer than Logan’s ever seen them, shining with excitement. “Now, let’s go!”
Logan should probably argue more, but he’s laughing as he gets pulled along, the two half-running towards the park. 
They slow down at the top of a hill already lightly coated with snow, and Virgil reaches into his bag to pull out a picnic blanket. “No,” Logan protests, but he’s cackling as Virgil yells “Snow picnic!” and spreads it over the snow. 
“This is going to turn into a blizzard,” he manages to say, stifling his giggles. “We are going to be buried alive because you wanted to have a picnic in a snowstorm.”
“Oh, shush,” Virgil grins, flopping down onto the blanket and digging into his bag again to retrieve two bagels wrapped in tinfoil. “Drink your coffee and watch the snow with me, Logan Sanders.”
The bagel he hands Logan has Crofters jam instead of cream cheese spread across it, still warm from toasting, and Logan could kiss Virgil if they weren’t very platonic…
Well, it feels like they are a whole lot more than friends, at this point. There’s something about their relationship that feels different from the ones Logan has with their other companions, be it Remus or Emile, Patton or Janus, Roman or Remy. 
Are they best friends?
He asks, and Virgil merely grins and says “I hope so.” 
It’s amazing, lying there as they watch the sky, munching on bagels and sipping at their coffee and pointing out oddly shaped clouds. Virgil is practically covered in snowflakes by the time they have to leave, the wind picking up too much to stay, and Logan is no better. Still, he thinks it was worth it, even when he gets a cold and has to spend the weekend curled up in blankets, sneezing and coughing as he works on his essay for his cosmology class. Virgil gets a cold, too, and they end up on the phone together as they work, Virgil blasting music on his end and Logan parroting his roommate’s consistent reminders to take medicine, and drink some water! 
Emile seems to think it’s cute, for some reason, and they tell Logan to say hi to Virgil for them, a smile playing on their lips that he’s too sick to interpret. 
Logan has a crush on a boy in their shared statistics class by March, the one who sits three rows in front of him and two seats to the right, who has green hair and a cheerful grin. Virgil listens patiently about it whenever Logan brings it up, and when they have to pair up for a final project, he pushes him towards his crush, joining Remus instead.
He finds out his crush already has a romantic partner in a strictly monogamous relationship when they’re nearly done with the project, and Virgil shows up to Logan’s dorm room with ice cream and his laptop that night, pulling aside Emile as he comes in and whispering something to him. Emile leaves shortly after, and the two of them are alone.
“What did you tell Emile?” Logan asks later, when they’re sitting on his bed and watching trashy teenage romcoms, because, according to Virgil, “This way, you won’t associate any good movies with this.” 
“Well, Patton invited him for a ‘sleepover,’” Virgil says, eating directly from the carton of chocolate ice cream, gaze shifting from the screen to Logan. “Did the moment he saw your text on the groupchat.”
Logan had texted that his crush has a partner when Roman had begun teasing him about it on said chat. Looking back, it may not have been the best of decisions, but all he wants to do right now is curl into the comforter and watch bad movies, while simultaneously eating unholy amounts of ice cream. 
“It’s not a big deal,” he protests, pulling the blankets closer around him. 
“Listen, L, you’re sad ‘cause the boy you like… well, you know. Anyways, you being sad is a big deal, at least to us.” Virgil isn’t wearing his normal clothes, only a pair of pajama pants and a sweatshirt (Logan knows he ran over in his nightwear, which makes him feel worse), so he can see the ink covering his hands, smudged in places.
“Why do you draw on yourself so much?” He leans over to look at the patterns of spirals winding their way up Virgil’s arms, tracing them with one finger. “That much ink can’t be good for your skin, pretty as it is, Vee.”
Virgil bats his hand away, blushing behind his curtains of dark hair, and Logan laughs. “It’s just a nervous habit, okay?” he exclaims, and Logan pokes his cheek, cooing. 
“Aw, lookit you,” he smiles, and even though Logan’s heart hurts from what happened with his crush, he doesn’t think he would trade anything for his friendship with Virgil Foley. “So cute.”
“I’m not cute,” Virgil grumbles, pressing play on the computer. “Watch the shitty movie and shush, nerd.”
He gets over the boy from statistics eventually, and gets an A on the project, which Roman insists they celebrate with breakfast at Logan’s favorite diner on campus. (Logan’s pretty sure Roman just feels guilty about teasing him about it, but he goes anyways, pulling his friend aside later to tell him it’s fine.)
They return from summer vacation changed. Janus, Patton, and Roman are dating now, for one thing, and it’s disgustingly sappy. Emile comes out as asexual and aromantic a few days after they get back, and Logan helps them hang flags in their dorm room when they arrive a week later. Remy has switched majors, from biology to culinary classes, and Remus tells them excitedly that he’s managed to start a rather popular horror comic online. (Logan reads it, and learns Remus is quite adept at art, writing, and scaring the crap out of him. He never looks at door knobs the same way again.) Virgil, meanwhile, has started wearing far less baggy clothes and more makeup – in other words, people around campus start realizing that Virgil is actually hot, and not just a relatively cute bundle of sweatshirts. 
Logan kind of feels weird about it. He knows how aesthetically pleasing Virgil is, of course – they’ve spent enough time together for him to have figured that out – but… well, Logan had realized while he was away how much he’d missed Virgil, even more so than his other friends. He tells himself it is because of how close they are, and ignores the ugly anger in his chest when people flirt with Virgil, or how his heart pounds and face flushes when they curl up to watch movies these days. 
As for him, well, he’s dyed his hair a dark blue, a color so dark it’s almost black. Roman marvels over it, asking how he managed to not damage his hair in the process, and Logan doesn’t feel like telling him that he had meant to do a brighter shade, but hadn’t realized how hard it would be to get proper color without bleaching his normal dark hair. He does end up telling Virgil later, though, when Remy and Patton drag them and the rest of their friends to a party.
For the record, Logan tended to avoid such events. He didn’t see the point, firstly – he’d never been a fan of crowds, especially not ones where everyone was drunk off their asses, and he generally had too much work to do to bother with parties. Secondly, he simply didn’t care enough to look nice for such a thing, or to go at all. Logan would much rather spend time with his friends if he had to be up in the middle of the night, whether haunting the 24/7 diner a few miles off campus or playing stupid games in the woods or making fun of Disney movies while throwing popcorn at the screen and shushing each other so they didn’t get noise complaints. 
But then there were Patton and Remy, social creatures who liked seeing other people and didn’t mind getting wasted to do so. Roman and Janus typically followed Patton wherever he went, so they were a given, and Remus had developed a raging crush on Remy by then, so he’d probably have tagged along even if Remy hadn’t grabbed his hand and said “You’ll come, right, Ree?” with a grin. 
Well, Remus was lost to them after that, and that left Emile, Logan, and Virgil alone.
Which would have been fine! Except then Virgil had got dragged in by Patton (a difficulty of being his roommate, according to Logan’s best friend, was that Patton was very, very persuasive when he wanted to be) and Virgil had begged Logan to come for “Introvert solidarity, L! Introvert solidarity!”
Then Emile had sighed, said something about being the only responsible one, and appointed themself designated driver. So Logan didn’t even have that excuse to pull himself and Virgil out of it early. 
He finds himself on a couch in someone’s house, sitting besides Virgil. Janus tells him that it is owned by someone who goes to their college but lives nearby, a summer home belonging to their parents or something. Janus says ze aren’t sure who the actual host is, and ze run off to go find Roman or Patton before Logan can ask why all of them are attending a party hosted by someone they don’t know.
Virgil has obviously already had something to drink, or he’s insanely sleep-deprived, as he has started playing with Logan’s hair. Logan’s willing to bet on the former (although knowing Virgil, he can’t be sure – he has an awful sleep schedule) especially since he’s never known the other to be so touchy, even when tired. 
“How’d you get it like this?” Virgil asks, running his fingers through Logan’s curls. He’s perched on top of the couch, and though he would normally be concerned that Virgil might fall, Logan is just glad he doesn’t have to bend over so his friend can examine his hair. 
He tells Virgil, and can’t help but smile as he laughs, perhaps a little more than the story warrants. They sit there in peace for a few minutes, Virgil humming along with any song he recognizes and Logan scanning the room for any of their friends. 
“Your hair is so pretty,” Virgil eventually says, and Logan is surprised he can hear him at all over the noise of the music and other people. He slides down from the couch to sit beside him, reaching up to poke Logan’s cheek. “You’re pretty. You know that, right? You’re real, real pretty.”
“Aw,” Logan grins, hoping the dim lights and Virgil’s addled brain will hide his red cheeks. “What is it you say? Oh, right; you think I’m warm.”
“No, dummy, I think you’re hot,” Virgil sighs. “Get it right.”
“Why, thank you.”
“‘Course. You’re my best friend, Logan Sanders.”
“Same,” he replies, dodging Virgil’s attempt to flick him as he scans the room. “Have you seen Remy or Remus around recently?”
“Oh, they’ve been making out in that closet over there,” Virgil says offhandedly, pointing, and Logan nearly chokes. “You didn’t know? They’re so obvious, Remy’s been whining about it to me for weeks. ‘Oh, Virgil, I’m doomed to be alone forever!’ ‘Oh, Virgil, Remus is so hot, and I’m going to whine about it to you for hours!’ ‘Oh, Virgil, I have a crush on a trash rat man and I won’t stop talking about it ever!’”
“Did Remy actually call Remus a ‘trash rat man’?” he snickers, turning to look at Virgil, who is wringing his hands in mock despair as he imitates Remy.
“No,” Virgil pouts. “Wish he had. Remus would love that.”
“He would,” Logan agrees, rolling his eyes fondly. “Hey, do you want to leave?”
“Why, Logan Perfect-Hair Sanders, are you asking me to ditch a party with you?” he laughs.
“That isn’t my middle name and you know it.” Logan shoots off a text to Emile, standing and turning to grab Virgil’s hand, pulling him upright. “But sure. Will you, Virgil Emo-Nightmare Foley, ditch this absurd party with me?”
“Logan, I thought you’d never ask,” Virgil smirks. “Let’s bounce!”
They get lucky – Logan hasn’t had anything to drink, and due to how large their group is, Virgil had had to drive over Patton, Janus, Roman, and himself earlier. Virgil hands him the keys to the car, and Logan drives them to the nearby McDonalds, where they order fries and milkshakes. “Let’s go somewhere high,” Virgil says when they return to the car, grinning, and Logan obliges, driving them to his favorite stargazing spot near campus, partway up a mountain in a parking lot for an old playground. 
Soon, he finds himself sitting on the hood of Virgil’s car, dipping his fries in a chocolate shake as the two of them stare up at the stars and the moon, pointing out constellations. “Look,” giggles Virgil, his head on Logan’s shoulder as he traces lines between stars. “It’s the glasses one!”
“There is no ‘glasses’ constellation, Virgil,” he points out, but the path his friend is etching into the sky does look rather like a pair of glasses. 
“Well, there is now,” replies the other. “It’s your constellation! You deserve one, y’know, ‘cause you’re pretty, and smart, and nice, and funny, and you’re just the best, Lo, okay?”
“How much did you have to drink, exactly?” Logan asks, raising an eyebrow, and his friend punches him in the arm, lightly. “Ow!”
“I’m telling the truth,” Virgil rolls his eyes, pulling the blankets they’d retrieved from the trunk closer around the two of them. “You deserve a constellation. You deserve the universe.”
“Well, now we have to find you a constellation, too,” he muses, ignoring the heat in his cheeks (he seems to be blushing quite a lot lately, talking to Virgil) as he searches the sky. It takes a few minutes, and Virgil is half-asleep on his shoulder by the time he makes his choice, but finally Logan says “I found it.”
“Well, lemme see,” Virgil mumbles, opening his eyes. 
He traces lines between a series of stars. “It’s a cloud,” he explains, “and a lightning bolt. Because you’re a thunderstorm, V.”
“Isn’t that a bad thing?” He’s biting his lip, suddenly subdued, and Logan feels a surge of guilt, because no one should ever make Virgil look like that, anxious and hurt and scared all at once.
“No,” he answers, fiercely enough that Virgil jumps slightly. “You’re wild, and chaotic, and occasionally a bit destructive, but you also make people feel alive. You bring rain to help things live, you bring the sound of a storm and the beauty of lightning, you simultaneously wake me up and help me sleep. You are beautiful, and inspiring, and so amazingly you, and the best friend I could ever ask for.”
“...And I thought I was the English major,” Virgil says quietly, and his face is bright red. “You have no right to be better at words than me, Sanders.”
“Well, Foley, I’m the astrophysics major, and you’re the one who started making constellations, so turnabout’s fair play,” Logan replies, and Virgil lets out a laugh at that.
Later, when the fries and milkshakes are both gone, they get back into the car and drive back to their dorms. For Logan’s birthday that year, a month or so later, Virgil presents him with a painting of the glasses constellation. He’d commissioned Remus, he explains, staring at his feet, and Logan tells him he loves it. For Virgil’s birthday, he gets a similar art piece from Roman, of the stars making a storm, and Virgil pulls him into a tight hug.
For now, though, the two of them simply sit and gaze into space. 
Logan goes on a few dates with someone he meets at the coffee shop, named Andy. They become boyfriends. Virgil teases him about it whenever he brings it up, and eventually he stops talking about his partner to his best friend. The two of them start to pull apart, their friendship strained.
When Logan and Andy separate, Virgil is dating a girl he’s only met a few times, who shares Virgil’s English classes and wears colorful barrettes to hold back her curls.
He hadn’t even known Virgil liked her. 
College passes by quickly. They graduate, and Logan tumbles into a job at a rather prestigious observatory. He lives in a small apartment in the city nearby, buys coffee from the Starbucks across the street every morning, settles into a routine.
Gradually, they all start to fall out of touch. It sucks, but things have been off between Virgil and him ever since Logan had dated Andy Michaels, and at the moment Logan sees his ex-boyfriend more than his ex-best friend. Their relationship had ended amicably, but still – he misses Virgil Foley, more than he’d ever like to admit. 
A year or so later, Logan receives the invitation to Remy and Remus’ wedding. 
It is in the fall, and Logan isn’t surprised in the least that they plan to have it in a forest, if only because he knows that the odds of Remus wanting the guests to jump into leap piles with him are absurdly high. At least they’re at an actual wedding site, so they can be inside if needed – Logan half expected, when he found out they’d gotten engaged, for them to drag a bunch of guests to a Starbucks for the event. 
What does surprise Logan is the fact that Remus has apparently sent it early, because Logan is going to be one of the wedding party attendants. 
He calls Remus and Remy that night, certain they’ve mixed up things, but Remy simply laughs. “Logan, you’re still one of our best friends,” he says. “Come on, please?”
“Besides,” Remus adds, “Virge will be one too, and Patton and Roman and Jan and Emile! You can’t break up the team!”
He ends up agreeing, and no matter how much Remy teases him about it later, it was not just to see Virgil again. 
The wedding rolls around. Logan has managed to avoid speaking to Virgil for more than a friendly greeting and a bit of small talk through all the preparations the two of them had had to attend, but the they both arrive early on the day of, and Logan doesn’t know anybody else, and, well, he does miss Virgil. 
“Hey,” he says. Virgil is nearly as tall as him in the heels he’s wearing (Logan had managed to opt out of them, convincing Remus to let him wear flats with his dress), and his green dress offsets his stormy eyes perfectly. Logan doesn’t think he looks nearly as good in the color, but he’d decided not to argue with Remy’s puppy-dog eyes. Besides, he much prefers the dress to the suits Emile and Patton had opted for. 
“Hi, Logan,” Virgil replies. The tension in the air is palpable, and Logan hates it. “How’ve you been lately?”
“I’m good,” he answers. 
“Oh, good,” nods Virgil. He’s gnawing at his lip again, and Logan can see the split in it even through the lipstick. “Me too.”
“I miss you,” Logan says suddenly, because he does. “You were my best friend, and I hate not being close, because you are one of the best things that ever happened to me.”
“...I miss you too.” He smooths his dress, looking out the window at the trees, and then laughs. “I’m surprised they didn’t have their wedding in a Starbucks, honestly.”
Logan can’t help but chuckle at that, especially when he spots Remy breezing past them, a coffee cup in hand and makeup only half-done, frantically trying to catch his little brothers and sister, whom he and Remus had appointed flower children. “I thought the same thing,” he admits. 
It’s easy for the two of them to talk, after that, sharing jokes and telling stories and talking about their new lives. Logan feels oddly happy when he learns Virgil is single, and when he mentions how he’s looking for a roommate and Virgil remarks that he is too, it feels as natural as breathing to ask where he’s currently living. Finding out they live in the same city makes Logan feel strangely elated. 
“Help!” Remus exclaims, skidding to a stop in front of them, collapsing into Virgil’s arms and only barely being caught. “I’ve lost my husband-to-be!” 
“Alright, please calm down,” Logan says, exchanging exasperated looks with Virgil, who pulls Remus back to his feet. “Have you actually lost Remy, or are you just being overly dramatic?”
“He has been stolen from me,” Remus whines. “We were kissing, and then he was dragged away by my evil brother!”
“By any chance, was he dragged away to prepare for your wedding? The event we’re attending, so you two can get married? The one that most guests are expected to arrive for in fifteen minutes?” Virgil crosses his arms over his chest, eyes narrowed. 
Remus’ eyes widen. “Fifteen minutes?” he asks, checking Logan’s watch, and groans. “Oh, drumsticks. Drumsticks torn right off a chicken. Bloody chicken legs everywhere.”
He darts off, and Logan and Virgil sigh simultaneously.
“We should go help, shouldn’t we?” Virgil asks, and Logan nods reluctantly. “Well, it was great to talk to you.”
“It was pleasant to speak with you, as well,” he agrees. 
As he turns to go find Patton, Virgil grabs his arm. “Hey, L, save me a dance, okay?”
They do indeed dance together that night, after they watch Remy and Remus get married among the colorful leaves, and talk, and laugh, and by the end of the wedding they are good friends again.
Virgil and Logan move in together by the end of November. 
They become surprisingly domestic, the two of them, moving into their large apartment that is close to both Logan’s job at the observatory and Virgil’s work at a publishing company. He’s not surprised Virgil has become an editor (he was always the best at it, when they exchanged essays to review), but he is rather impressed when he notes some of the books in Virgil’s room have his full name on the cover. “I write poetry, mostly,” he explains when Logan asks. “It’s… I used to use it like therapy, I guess, and I got some of it published. I’m not famous or anything.”
“That’s amazing,” Logan says sincerely. 
The poetry becomes important, later, but then, it is simply something for Logan to admire, another flash of beautiful lightning in Virgil’s storm.
Saturdays become movie nights, and they order junk food and make popcorn and watch documentaries or horror movies or cartoons together. Occasionally, some of their friends will join them, and every so often, all eight of them cram into Logan and Virgil’s living room. Despite his love for the others, however, Logan’s favorite nights are usually the ones when the two of them are alone, when they curl up together on the couch and make fun of trashy films or contribute their own knowledge to documentaries or sing along quietly to Disney. It is peaceful and lovely and utterly perfect.
Logan doesn’t mean to fall in love with Virgil. It sneaks up on him, mornings of coffee for him and tea for Virgil and memes shared over breakfast, afternoons texting each other with reminders to get groceries and news from the office, nights of cooking together and dancing to the radio. 
One day, when both of them have work off, Virgil pulls him out of bed, waits impatiently while Logan gets dressed, and drags him outside into a storm. They walk through the park together, enjoying the rain on their skin, both of them jumping into puddles and belting the title number of Singing in the Rain and getting utterly soaked. 
They return home for cocoa, each taking a warm shower and then sitting together on the couch to watch old movies with small white krakens bobbing in their cups. It is then, with Virgil curled up against him, wet hair soaking Logan’s neck and the smell of hot chocolate in the air, that Logan realizes he loves a thunderstorm in human form. 
His best friend.
Oh, god, Logan is in love with his best friend. And also his roommate. And also his favorite person in the whole of the universe.
(He’s pretty sure that if Virgil could hear his thoughts, and if, y’know, Virgil wasn’t the person in question, he’d roll his eyes and say, “Oh my god, they were roommates.” The idea nearly makes him laugh.) 
Logan tries to get over his crush (and there’s no other word for it, as juvenile as it sounds). He really does. But it’s so hard, now that he knows it exists, especially when he has to see Virgil every single day. And he can’t just cut himself off, or leave their apartment, because that might ruin their friendship, and that’s the whole reason he’s trying to escape his feelings, because he loves being Virgil’s friend more than anything. 
So he exists in this inbetween state, thrashing in the eyewall of a storm, so close to safety and danger simultaneously, trapped in chaos and uncertainty. 
Logan isn’t quite sure whether he really wants to return to the eye, blissful quiet and the peace of oblivion, or if he can at all. But he thinks entering the storm itself, the danger of telling Virgil how he feels, the potential for a life with him, is equally impossible. 
Eventually he decides that it is best to just ignore his rebellious feelings. It works, sort of – Virgil doesn’t seem to notice anything different, and Logan gets to keep his best friend. Still, every moment together is tinged with a sort of bittersweet sadness, the dancing in the kitchen and cuddling on the couch and meals together a harsh reminder that they are just friends.
He’s not sure exactly how his other friends figure it out, but they do, judging from how Remy and Janus tell him exasperatedly that he really ought to say something to Virgil, how Patton and Roman tell him how cute they would be together, how Remus does his best to shove Logan towards Virgil at any opportunity, how Emile tells him pointedly that repressing his feelings isn’t exactly healthy. Logan does decide that he’ll confess… eventually. 
The problem with eventually, however, is how ambiguous it is. The others have realized as much, evidently, but they don’t force Logan to say something, or tell Virgil themselves, and he appreciates that.
It is a Saturday when eventually finally comes, a peaceful movie night interrupted by a phone call with Roman’s name flashing on the screen. He holds up a finger over his lips as he accepts the call, grimacing apologetically to Virgil as he steps into his own room. “What do you want?” he asks exasperatedly when he picks it up, and winces as the other line fills with noise. 
“Logan, have you read Virgil’s latest book?” Roman practically screams, and in the background Logan can hear Patton squealing with excitement as Janus shushes them both. 
He frowns, closing the door to his bedroom. “I wasn’t aware he’d been working on one.” Normally, Logan knows whenever Virgil is working on another collection of his poetry – he’s often the first person Virgil hands it to for editing. 
“Get on your computer this instant, Pocket Protector,” says Roman, and Logan can hear his grin.
A quick search confirms it; a new book of poetry, just released by Virgil Foley. The revelation is almost painful (does Virgil not trust him anymore? Not like him?) until Janus’ voice comes over the line, hir voice sarcastic and concerned altogether.
“Way to go, love, he’s definitely not overthinking this,” ze sigh. “Logan, listen to me. I need you to go look at some of the reviews for the book, okay? Actually, no, if you can find a sample online, go read that.”
He’s operating in a haze, a robot in human flesh, and what do robots do but obey orders?
Logan barely understands what he’s reading at first, lines of poetry in the sample flashing past him. He checks the reviews, words of praise and admiration flowing through his mind, and it takes a second before he understands any of it. 
Clicking back to the online sample, he starts to recognize the story being told. It is a tale of late nights and hot drinks in the morning, of pining and fear of destroying a friendship older than love.
It is Logan’s story, told through another’s words, a voice speaking of a scholar of the stars, of glasses and storms, of hugs and hand-holding and a cute barista, a boy in psych class, a friendship repaired at another’s wedding, of admiration and hope and love. A love for someone seen not as a storm, but as stars, as the universe in human flesh. 
Virgil is in love.
Virgil is in love with Logan. 
“I’ll call you back,” he hears himself say, and drops his phone on his bed in his haste to get back to the living room. 
“Logan?” Virgil’s voice pierce the haze of his thoughts, his eyes 
(a storm, wild beauty) 
shining with concern, and he sits up from where he’s lying on the couch. “You okay? What happened?”
There are many things he wants to say, questions and explanations and promises, but in the end, all he says is “Can I kiss you?”
“What?” He doesn’t expect Virgil to look quite so flustered, but then again, Logan did just storm into the room, looking desperate and probably a tad deranged, and ask to kiss his best friend. 
“Roman told me about the new book,” Logan says first, and Virgil’s eyes widen even further, and he can sense the incoming apology, but he isn’t done, not yet. He begins to crack his knuckles, a habit he’d thought he’d finally lost, full to the brim with nervous energy. “I’ve read some of it, and as far as I can tell, you are romantically attracted to me. Which is good, because I also harbor such feelings for you, and have for about a year now. So. Can I kiss you?”
“Isn’t it ‘May I kiss you’?” Virgil grins, playing off his feelings with humor, as always. Logan opens his mouth to apologize as his world comes crashing down, because oh, he’s messed up, oh no, but then his best friend’s expression softens, and he whispers “Of course, Logan Sanders.”
“Thank you, Virgil Foley,” he says, and abandons the eyewall for the storm. 
They don’t watch any more movies that night. The two of them kiss, and talk, and kiss some more, and Virgil grabs his author’s edition of the new book from his room, and they read it together on the couch. 
The next morning, they sit with their coffee and tea and talk some more, about labels and boundaries and dreams. Their friends come over for movies the next Saturday, and Virgil and Logan hold hands as they tell them they are dating. 
(Roman choking on the popcorn in his excitement almost makes up for the money Logan spots being exchanged between Emile, Remus, and Patton.)
Eventually, Virgil’s latest book will gain fame, and they will end up with quite a bit of money between the two of them, especially after Logan gets a promotion. Eventually, they will move to a larger house, one a bit outside the city, one where they will have two cats and a dog and a son named Thomas. Eventually, they will get married in the spring, and when it starts to rain as they say their vows, the two of them just laugh. 
But that is eventually. In the now, Logan Sanders is in love. In the now, Virgil Foley is in love. 
They are glasses and hoodies, poetry written and spoken, dancing in the kitchen and cuddles on the couch. 
They are thunderstorms, and they are stars.
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jungshookz · 5 years ago
Note
no but like what if one day ballet!yn was being teased by some of the girls in the class during their pre-class stretch about how she thinks balletteacher!jm is a SMOKE n shes like gUYS SHUT UP but jimin is like >:))) oh oKAY
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➺ pairing; park jimin x reader
➺ genre; balletteacher!jiminiverse!!! mr. park is back n hotter than ever!!! everyone seemed to miss him so he’s bACK i’m going to be honest with u there is some sexual tension here but we all saw that coming 
➺ wordcount: 3k
➺ what to expect; “park jimin is a tall glass of water and we are all thirsty.” 
➺ optional reading: not necessary but you can read this drabble before getting started on this one! 
➺ note; this was sent in a whiLe ago!! better late than never >:-)i have no idea why i was suddenly inspired to write aLL of this tonight because i have to wake up at 8 and it is currently 2:15am and i haven’t showered yet but i had to do it for ballet teacher jimin because just like y/n i too am hot for teaCHER
                                  »»————- ♡ ————-««
“surprise, surprise… look who’s late again!” seulgi smiles a little toO sweetly as you stumble into the classroom
“the bus was late, it’s not my fault-“ you grumble as you drop to the floor to join the other girls who are in the middle of warming up
“well, you should think about leaving campus a little earlier if it means coming here on time like the rest of us.” seulgi sighs as she turns side to side to check herself out in the mirror
“oh my god-“ you gasp in mock shock in the middle of pulling one of your leg warmers on
seulgi glances at you from the mirror “what?”
“…is that a pimple i spot?” you point up towards her forehead and her eyes widen in horror as she leans closer to the mirror
“what?!” she smooths her fingers over her forehead furiously and you can’t help but snort
that’ll keep her occupied for the next twenty minutes or so
you let out a grunt of relief as you focus on working the kinks out of your shoulders and your neck while rolling your ankles at the same time
pop crackle snAP
ever since the incident (aka you attempting a grand jeté and failing miserably leading to a very sprained ankle) you’ve been taking it easy buT you went to a check-up over the weekend and the doctor says your ankle seems to have healed veRy well and you can go back to doing what you were doing
as long as you knoW what it is you’re doing, of course
maybe stay away from the grand jetéing for now  
“so, y/n, when are you going to tell us what went down between you and mr. park?” ailee nudges your thigh with her foot and you let out a light laugh before raising a brow
“what are you talking about?” you arch your back and hiss quietly when you feel a particularly loud crAck
goD that’s good
“you know, when he basically kicked us all out of the room just to help you and your ankle.”
“you weren’t even there when we got kicked out, ailee.” wendy snorts and ailee rolls her eyes
“i know, but still!!”
“i don’t know what stories you guys have concocted but he basically just patched up my ankle for me and that was it.” you shrug while rolling out your pointe shoes
“don’t play dumb, y/n!” lisa calls out from across the room and you twist slightly to look at her “park jimin is a tall glass of water and we are all thirsty-“
“oh my god, you guys!” you interrupt her before she can finish and a couple of the girls burst into giggles “he’s our teacher!”
“i don’t know about you but i’m veRy hot for teacher-“
“it’s unprofessional because we’re his students and we shouldn’t even be talking about him like this-“
“but you have to admit you’ve thought about kissing those lips-“
“do you guys remember that time he yawned and stretched and his shirt rode up a little bit because i definitely do-“
“oh god and he smells so fucking good all the time-“
“and that ass just does noT quit!”
“i would kill like ten people if it meant i could sit on his face.” seulgi mutters as she smooths some tinted chapstick over her bottom lip
“seulgi!” you laugh and peel your leg warmer off jusT to hurl it at her “it’s concerning that you have a set number of people to kill just to sit on someone’s face”
she catches it right before it hits her arm before throwing it right back at you “it’s more concerning that not once have yoU ever openly admitted to thinking that park jimin is insanely attractive-“
“first of all, we should be addressing him as mr. park because he told us to-“ you point out as you slip your leg warmer back on “and secondly, i’m here because i want to become a professional ballerina, not because i want to gawk at my teacher like the rest of you-“
“hey, we wanna be professional ballerinas just as much as you do, but who says we can’t have a little fun?” jisoo giggles before wiggling her eyebrows
“you know, there’s only one logical explanation i can come up with to explain why you don’t gush about mr. park the same way we do.” seulgi sighs as she takes a seat across from you and begins to stretch out her legs
“enlighten me, detective kang.” you can’t help but roll your eyes because wHY are you guys still talking about jimin when you should be talking about,,.,.,. like.,,.,. stretching? or somEthing else related to ballet and noT your teacher
also
on a slightly unrelated note
you and seulgi have kind of become friends? but not really
you guys have a best frenemy kind of relationship if that makes any sense
the two of you are still very much competitive with each other anD will not hesitate to take jabs at each other when the opportunity arises
but other than that you guys sort of get along
except when performances are around the corner because she gets super bitchy about getting whatever role it is she wants
anyways
back to it
“because you have a crush on him.”
you immediately freeze in the middle of tying the ribbons around your ankle
“i’m sorry, i what now?”
“you have a crush on him!” seulgi smirks veRy cockily “think about it! you don’t like it when we talk about him because you want him allllll to yourself and you can’t even fathom the thought of another girl lusting over him-“
and this would be one of those moments where seulgi likes to get under your skin just to get a reaction
you poke your tongue against the inside of your cheek as you take a second to consider the possibility
do you have a crush on your teacher?
he’s mr. park
you can’t have a crush on mr. park because he’s mr. pARK
he’s very strict and controlling and sometimes a little mean like that time he yelled at you in front of the class for being the only who missed a count  
but also he can be really sweet and caring and surprisingly funny and you’ll never admit it to anyone for as long as you live but one class you started daydreaming (this was the class he yelled at you about missing the count lol) about what it’d be like to hold his hand and kiss his cheeks and dig your nails into his oh-so broad back as he-
your movements slow down slightly as you think about what happened on the night of the incident
“you really are something, you know that?” he laughs lightly as he smooths the bandaid over your cut
you can’t help but let out a little huff “…is that a good thing?”
he gives your knee a little pat before reaching over a tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear
“miss y/l/n - it’s a very good thing.”
“that is the most ridiculous theory i have ever heard in my entire life-“  
“every single time we talk about how attractive jimin is, you get all quiet and blushy in the corner and you neVEr contribute to the conversation-“
“yeah, maybe because there’s a line of professionalism and respect that i need to stay behind unlike yoU guys-“
“oh, and now you’re getting all defensive because you know for a fact that every word coming out of my mouth is TRUE! just admit it, y/l/n, you have a crush on our teacher-“
“i mean, i think i have a crush on mr. park-“ jisoo chips in and you and seulgi immediately turn to glare at her as if to say stay ouT OF IT
“i- you know what, this is just ridiculous!” you scoff and get up off the ground “i’m going to go and get some water to cool off-“
“oh yeah, you’re gonna cool off? is thinking about jimin’s face in between your legs getting you all hot and bothe-“
“jesus ch- lalalaLALALALALA-“you immediately stick your fingers into your ears and start babbling loudly while seulgi starts speaking louder and louDER
“you loVE HIM!!! YOU WANNA KISS HIM ROMANTICALLY!!!” seulgi’s practically shrieking at this point and the other girls are having a hoOT
in fact some of them are chiming in to make fun of you as well
“oOoooh y/n do you wanna hold his hand-“
“do you think about him in class sometimes?? a couple of us have noticed that moony look in your eye from time to time-“
“maybe if you ask him nicely he’ll help you with stretching-“
“y/n, look, this is my demonstration of what you wanna do to mr. park-“ lisa turns around so that her back is facing you and she wraps her arms around herself before sliding them up and down sensually anD making kissy noises
“oh, real mature, lisa-“ you take your fingers out of your ears and wince because woW these girls are loud “okay, everyone shuT UP-“
everyone quiets down a little but they’re still giggling and whispering among each other
“what’s it gonna take for you people to drop this duMB theory??” you cross your arms and raise your brows as you tap your foot on the ground impatiently
“all you have to do is admit that you have a crush on our teacher and i’ll be satisfied.”
“but i don’t have a crush on him!”
“y/n, need i remind you that i’m, like, slightly psychic? because you are totaLLy lying through your teeth right now.” seulgi inspects her nails casually and you let out a quiet huff
okay
you know what
yEs
maybe you do have a crush on jimin
maybe it’s true that you don’t like it when the other girls talk about him because a part of you selfishly wants him all to yourself
maybe everything seulgi’s said is truE
and the whole class obviously knows that you like jimin because a) seulgi is the biggest gossip on the planet and b) even if seulgi said that the earth was flat, everyone would believe it regardless because she iS the top dog around here
and if you admit it then hopefully they’ll leave it alone forever
“alright, fine!” you clear your throat and stand up a little taller “i have a crush on park jimin.” you gasp dramatically and make little jazz hands
you know what
if you’re going to confess you should do it right
you should go aLL out
“in fact, i think mr. park is a complete smoke show. i think he’s the hottest person i’ve ever seen in my entire life, and yes, i have noticed his pillowy lips, and i did notice that time he stretched and revealed his glorious six pack to the world, and i am very much aware that he smells like he stepped straight out of a shampoo commercial, and yes, you’re right, he has a veRY nice ass - and you know what, seulgi? i’ll say this one just for you.” you narrow your eyes and lean forward a little bit “i would 100% love to sit on park jimin’s face because i, y/n y/l/n, am 110% attracted to him.”
seulgi nods slowly and presses her lips together
it almost seems as though she’s stifling a laugh
…which was not the reaction you were expecting
you were expecting her to get all gloaty and i-told-you-so about it
“wow. and now everyone’s gone quiet!” you point out the obvious before crossing your arms
her and the rest of the girls get up off the ground and immediately form a line before getting into first position
and you know exactly what that means
every single hair on your body prickles to life when you hear someone slurping up the last of their drink behind you
“good afternoon, ladies.”
oh
my
god
“good afternoon, mr. park.” everyone (except for you because you are understandably moRTIFIED) responds politely
you feel like your feet are glued to the ground and you want nothing more than for a black hole to appear and swallow you entirely
“i said, good afternoon, ladies.”
it takes every fibre in your body to twist around slowly and you force yourself into first position
you’re a mere one and a half steps away from jimin and that’s making you more nervous than you already are
you swallow thickly
jimin offers you a sly smile as he runs a hand through his (newly dyed!!) ashy silver hair before taking his sunglasses off
“g-“ your throat closes up as soOn as you try to speak “good afternoon, mr. park.”
you feel like there’s a rock in your stomach
you also feel like you’re about to projectile vomit everywhere
why do bad things always happen to you
WHY
you just-
you just openly confessed that not oNLY are you romantically attracted to your teacher, you are also sexually attracted to your teacher!
great!
good one!
love that energy for you!
you know what
maybe it’s not as bad as you think
maYbe he didn’t hear anything
maybe you’re in the clear and you’re just overthinking it
“would you like to join your peers in line, miss y/l/n?” jimin asks and gestures towards the girls
“yes, sir.” you nod stiffly before quickly heading over to join lisa at the end of the line
the room is dead quiet as jimin sets his belongings down before taking his jacket off
oh god
he’s wearing that thin white shirt that gets a liTtle see through when he’s sweaty-
“how bad was it?” you lean over to whisper to lisa
her face is getting pink from how hard she’s trying to not completely burst into laughter right now
her cheeks are literally tremBLING
“he was here for the opening line and he was here for your final statement, which i think, pretty much summed up your entire speech.”
i would 100% love to sit on park jimin’s face because i, y/n y/l/n, am 110% attracted to him
i would 100% love to sit on park jimin’s face because i, y/n y/l/n, am 110% attracted to him
i would 100% love to sit on park jimin’s face because i, y/n y/l/n, am 110% attracted to him
yep
it’s official
you want to: die
you’re already sweating through your unitard and you guys haven’t done anything
“no talking please, ladies…” jimin hums as he plugs his phone charger into the outlet
maybe you can just pretend like you lost your voice so you won’t have to speak for the rest of eTERNITY
“okay!” jimin claps his hands together before crossing his arms “i’m gonna rock your world-” you’re verRy aware of the fact that he maintains strong eye contact with you the entire time he says that “with some grand jeté’s today. everyone ready?”
“yes, mr. park.” everyone responds simultaneously except for you agAIN
“-es mr. park.” you blurt out at the last second
you stop nervously picking at your chiffon skirt when you see jimin’s eyes flicker down to your hand
oops
surprisingly enough jimin doesn’t jump straIght into the grand jetés right away (he’s taking it easy just for u because he’s still worried about ur ankle)
he makes everyone practice balancing and standing in the final position which is basically just standing up straight on your pointes
also anoTher surprising thing that he’s doing
he said that today was more of a casual class so he’s letting everyone talk amongst themselves while practicing
of course you haven’t said a word because your lips still feel like they’re glued together
also you decided it’d be best if you hung out at the very baCK of the classroom just to attempt to avoid being spotted by jimin
“arms straight… chest out… very good…” jimin slowly makes his way down the back row and you curse quietly when you feel yourself wobble slightly
your eyes widen in surprise when you feel two hands place themselves on your hips from behind
“back straight, miss y/l/n.” jimin reminds you gently before sliding a finger from the small of your back up to the centre of your back “arch here. chest out.”
his other hand slides around so that it’s resting right on your stomach and you feel like your entire body is on fiRE “squeeze your core tight.” he mutters into your ear
you feel your cheeks heat up almost immediately because that should noT have been as hot as it was
christ almighty
get it toGETHER
“you seem a little distracted today, miss y/l/n.” jimin murmurs quietly as he moves to stand in front of you
he leans back a little to look at both your arms before reaching over to raise your left arm a bit “everything alright?”
“everything’s alright, mr. park.” you somehow manage to keep yourself composed even though jimin is basically staring two holes into your soul right now
“mhm.” jimin reaches over and places his pointer finger under your chin before raising your head a little
you lock gazes with him and you notice a little glimmer in his eyes “can’t have you sprain your other ankle because you were too busy thinking about sitting on my face now, can we?”
help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)
requested drabbles masterlist
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whenihaveyouromione · 4 years ago
Text
When I Have You - Chapter 1
This can also be read on ffn.net and ao3
A/N: This story will follow the lives of Ron and Hermione from the end of DH, to the epilogue and then beyond. This places all of my head canon in one story, along with tidbits of canon provided by JKR throughout. I like to stick mostly to canon post war, so I've followed the books to a T, and mostly everything post war is canon or canon-compliant. There will be the odd change, most barely noticeable.
Also, standard message that this in no way follows the Cursed Child plot at all, and I ignore it completely. This includes Hermione becoming Minister for Magic (which I know is something people like to include), as it makes no sense in comparison to the other canon JKR has provided. Plus, I hate Cursed Child, so… yeah.
Also, prior to reading this, please be aware that this story is intended to be LONG, it is intended to be an extremely slow burn. The chapter length is currently unknown, but I am predicting well over 200 chapters by the end. This is also not action packed, nor is it filled with unpredictability. This is a story where I go into excruciating detail about their lives after the war, but the intention is to be no surprises. Everything you think will happen, WILL happen. Please be mindful of that before going into this. I don't want anyone to be left disappointed. The idea is to detail their lives, not to have you on the edge of your seat with anticipation! If that's what you're after, this story is not for you.
This story also will contain implied sex. Sex scenes resemble 90's sitcoms — you have the before, you have the after, but none of the in between. They also talk a bit (not a lot, because it's not my focus) about sex. I am writing about their relationship, so it's obviously going to exist, but it's not going to be detailed, just implied.
Also, last but not least, this story has an Instagram account. As it's so long and detailed, I've decided to add some hopefully additional entertainment to it. The handle is (with no spaces) 'whenihaveyou . romione' on IG. Please feel free to follow. If for some reason you can't see it on here, feel free to PM me for it. I'll be posting small sneak peaks, responses to questions, etc on there. I'm even throwing my hand up to attempt some fanart on my own story, but I promise that writing is more my thing lol.
And now, to the story (I swear the future a/n's won't be this long). I hope you enjoy, and as usual, your thoughts, comments, questions, are all appreciated!
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Chapter 1
Ron brushed a stray strand of hair away from Hermione's face, which lit up at his touch. A smile graced her lips, but her eyes remained closed for a few moments longer. It was their favourite way to spend their afternoons; lying on his Chudley Cannons spread, arms around each other, sometimes dozing or sometimes talking. After long days of preparing for the coming funerals and Flooing to Hogwarts to help with repairs, it was always nice to come back and not think about the devastation that had befallen the wizarding world. While everyone grieved, these few moments together were a welcomed solace.
When laying beside her, Ron allowed himself a few moments of happiness. Because that's what she made him feel: happy. When she'd thrown her arms around him and kissed him in the middle of the war, he thought he'd loved her then. Now, ten days later, he realised how mistaken he'd been. This was love. Spending almost every moment, day and night, with her; holding her, kissing her, had made him fall helplessly in love, and for the first time ever, he was almost certain that she felt the same way.
He kissed her lightly on the lips, running fingers through her thick hair. She smiled against him, her eyes finally opening.
"We should go down and help the others with dinner," he murmured. "Before Mum comes looking for us."
As was to be expected, Molly had been a mess since the end of the war. Fred's death had impacted all of them, but no one more than his mother. For the first few days, they'd not seen her as she kept herself locked away in her bedroom, Arthur bringing her every meal. On the third day, she'd ventured out for a few moments before taking one look at everyone and bursting into tears. She'd spent another two days locked away after that.
She was out and about now, but out of respect for her feelings, Ron felt it best to keep his sudden relationship with Hermione secret. He did not think his mother would take kindly to one of her sons finding happiness in such a dark time.
They'd intended to keep it secret from everyone apart from Harry and Ginny, but word had gradually gotten out amongst the rest of the Weasleys. Bill had stumbled upon Ron placing a kiss on her forehead one evening before going to bed. Charlie had caught them holding hands in the Burrow's garden another night. Percy seemed to just know, and Arthur had awkwardly found them in a passionate embrace one morning in a Hogwarts' corridor.
No one spoke of it after, though. Everyone seemed to know better than to mention anything in front of Molly, so meal times resulted in limiting their affection to smiles across the table. That made these moments alone even more special.
Hermione sat up, resting her back against the headboard and yawning. Today had been especially difficult; after days of being hounded by the press as they demanded answers and spat out ridiculous theories (at Hogwarts, of all places), Harry had Disapparated to who knew where and hadn't returned. If he had any sense, he would have gone somewhere no one would find him. Ron suspected he had gone to Grimmauld Place.
"You think Harry's alright?" Hermione asked, rubbing her eyes.
"No, not really," Ron said. "But I can't blame him. The media have been unforgiving. It's easier for us to brush them aside, because they don't care as much about us. Can't imagine what it's like for him."
"How long should we give him?" Hermione asked.
"A few days." Ron shrugged, feeling his mood darken. "Fred's funeral is in three days. Lupin and Tonks' the day after that. I can't imagine him missing them."
Hermione looked less convinced. She looked at Ron, clearly worried. Ron placed an arm around her shoulder and drew her to him so that her head was on his shoulder. "He'll be alright," he assured her. "He just needs some time."
There was a moment's silence, and then, "Ron?" Hermione's voice cracked as she spoke his name.
"Hm?"
Silence again. Ron squeezed her tighter as he felt hot tears against his shirt. It wasn't unusual for these moments to end in tears, for one reason or another. They'd both had their fair share of crying over the past week and a half. He'd lost count of the number of times she'd been there for him, especially after the first few days when the memories of Fred haunted him most clearly. They still did, but he'd managed to get them under control for the most part. Though, he was dreading the funeral.
"Hey."
Hermione lifted her head at the sudden voice appearing at Ron's bedroom door. It was Bill, looking at them both with defeat. "You two better come down soon, otherwise Mum'll send a search party. She wants to start dinner, and Dad is fighting her…"
"Mum wants to cook?" Ron asked.
Bill nodded. "She's insisting. Ginny is really giving it to her, but she's refusing to listen." He smiled slightly. "I guess it's good to see some of the old fight back, eh?"
Hermione pulled away, wiping the tears from her face. "We should go and help," she sniffed.
Ron nodded, and they both climbed off his bed. Hermione left ahead of them, walking past Bill as if slightly embarrassed that he'd seen her cry. Ron went to follow, but Bill stopped him by clasping a hand on his shoulder.
"You alright? Dad mentioned what happened with Harry today."
Ron nodded. "Yeah. I think a part of me knew it was coming. He's been one moment away from an explosion all week. We've just got to give him some time."
Bill nodded, squeezing his shoulder. "Let me know if you need anything."
"Thanks," Ron said.
Bill let Ron go past, following him down the stairs without speaking. Everyone was in the kitchen, Ginny arguing with Molly.
"We told you, Mum! You're not doing anything. The rest of us have got this. Look —" she threw a hand in Ron's direction, "— Ron's here now. An extra pair of hands, an extra wand! We'll have dinner ready in no time."
"Come on, Mum," Bill said, gently placing his hands on Molly's shaking shoulders. "Let's go and sit down." He slowly guided her from the kitchen and into the living room.
After she was gone, Ginny rounded on Ron. "Your appearance a little earlier might have been beneficial, you know." Her eyes flickered to Hermione, softening when they saw her tear-stained face. She looked away. "Sorry," she mumbled.
"It's alright," Ron said. "We're here now. Where do you want us to start?"
It had become the norm for all the children to prepare the meals each night, with some help from Arthur occasionally. It was the least they could do to make things easier, but since their mother had decided to venture from her room, insisting that they could handle it had become increasingly harder. Ron suspected she wished to busy herself by cooking for her large, yet broken family.
Tonight's preparation was sullen. Even the occasional laughter that had occurred other nights was gone. Ginny's mood was dark, her hurt at Harry's disappearance obvious. Like Ron and Hermione, she'd chosen not to share her relationship with Harry to her mother. If that was what it even was. Harry had pushed most of them away, including Ginny, and had snapped at all of them more than once in the last few days.
Dinner was even quieter, with no one speaking apart from asking someone else to pass a bowl over. Ginny, who had been the most cheerful of the bunch, said nothing at all and barely touched her food. Molly watched her with concern, but said nothing, perhaps understanding why her daughter was so upset. There was an emptiness around the table, one that could only be filled by Harry's reappearance — and, Ron thought, George's. Both were as much part of the family as the other, but neither wished to see anyone.
Hermione helped Bill and Charlie clear the dishes and do the washing up, while everyone else moved into the living room. Ron sat on a conjured two-seater couch that really needed a good clean, saving the second spot for Hermione when she returned.
A small chatter started around the fireplace, with Percy talking of how the Ministry was looking to get things back to normal in the coming weeks.
"Something needs to be done," he said to Ron. "In this time, people need leadership and we currently have none." He then lowered his voice so that only Ron would hear the next part. "Between you and me, the talk is that Kingsley Shacklebolt will be appointed the next Minister for Magic."
This surprised Ron, and yet, it didn't at the same time. He looked at his brother. Percy had become somewhat more enjoyable to be around since the end of the war. Ron didn't think they'd be best friends any time soon, but at least he didn't get the urge to roll his eyes everytime Percy opened his mouth any more. He was Ron's brother, after all, and finally, Ron was able to see him as such.
"That's a good choice, don't you think?" he said.
Percy gave a curt nod. "Yes, I think so."
Hermione, Bill, and Charlie came in after that, and Ron shuffled over so that Hermione could sit next to him. Instinctively, he reached for her hand, but she jolted it away and nodded her head in his mother's direction.
He flushed, his face turning even redder when he saw that his mother was watching the two of them, her eyes narrowed.
"Great," Ron muttered to Hermione, "now she probably thinks you're rejecting my advances, or something."
"Wouldn't that please her?" Hermione asked.
"I don't think either way would please her."
Slowly but surely, people began drifting off to bed. Bill left via Floo for his home — as he did every night — while Charlie and Percy headed upstairs to their respective bedrooms.
When Ginny announced she was going to bed fifteen minutes later, Molly's eyes flashed to Hermione. "I suppose you'll be wanting to go to bed too, dear, so as not to wake Ginny?"
Hermione jumped, her cheeks reddening from the brashness of Molly's voice.
"It's fine, Mum," Ginny said. "I'll be fine."
"But, you don't want to wake her, do you Hermione, dear?"
Hermione had not spent a single night in Ginny's room since being there, just like Harry hadn't spent any in Ron's — an arrangement all four had been happy with. Ron had a sneaking suspicion that something had finally clicked with his mum, because she was now watching Ron as if waiting for him to react.
"Right," Hermione said. "I-I'll go, too. Goodnight, Mr and Mrs Weasley. Ron."
"Er, night, Hermione," Ron said. "See you in the morning."
After Hermione and Ginny had disappeared, a silence fell over the living room. Ron could only stand it for a few moments before he jumped to his feet and said goodnight, too.
Taking the stairs two at a time, he was disappointed to find Hermione not waiting for him in his room. He knew it had only been ten days, but the thought of falling asleep without her suddenly made him feel lonely. He'd become accustomed to her presence, her smell, sleeping with his arms around her, and waking to find her cuddled up against him in the mornings. It was a feeling he had hoped would last longer; forever, if he dared think it.
Unable to help but feel angry with his mother, he changed into his pyjamas and climbed under the covers. It was cold, and he had far too much space in his magically extended bed.
He tossed and turned for what felt like hours, and just as he was finally drifting off to sleep, he was woken by soft, warm lips against his cheek.
"Hermione?" he mumbled, making out her figure in the dark.
"Who else would it be?" Hermione asked, pulling back the covers and falling in beside him. "Ginny figured your mum would come and check to make sure I really was there — I think she suspects I've not been sleeping in the spare bed — so we had to wait."
"Did she?" Ron asked, rolling over and wrapping her in his arms. Instant warmth washed over him, and he buried his face into her hair.
"Yes."
"I'm glad you're here now." He kissed her shoulder and held her even tighter.
"Ron?"
"Mm?"
"What I wanted to say before, when I… couldn't…"
Ron loosened his hold on her, and she rolled over so she was facing him. He reached for his wand and lit it. He'd not realised she'd wanted to say anything before. "What is it?" he asked.
Under the wandlight, he saw her smile. "I wanted to say that I… love you."
The wand slipped from Ron's hand. He scrambled to find it from within the tangle of covers and relit it. "You… do?" In the mess that was the aftermath of war, it only occurred to Ron now that despite his intense feelings and love for her, he'd not actually said those words out loud. He'd thought them — every moment of every day — but he supposed his brain had been so convinced that she knew how he felt, that he had just assumed it was something they'd said to one another.
"Yes," Hermione said, her face practically glowing in the dim light.
"Oh, geez, I didn't even realise —"
"It's okay, Ron. I don't mean to rush you. I just wanted to tell you." She sounded so calm, so pleased with herself.
"What? Rush me? Oh, God, Hermione, I love you a ridiculous amount it's not even funny. I thought I told you that? Why have I never told you that?"
"Preoccupied?" Hermione suggested heartfully. "With a war, with losing our friends…"
Ron kissed her hard on the mouth, to which she responded enthusiastically. He felt her heart beating furiously against his chest, she was that close to him. The kiss deepened — by her, not him — and Ron became suddenly aware of every part of her. Her hands, in particular, had become rather adventurous, running along his arms, his chest, trailing further down... (Merlin, she was enthusiastic)... and then it hit him. He understood. And his bloody nerves got the better of him.
He pulled away, staring at her, the wand still in his hand. She stared back, her cheeks flushed, her breathing heavy, clearly determined to not feel embarrassed by her advancement.
Ron, however, didn't know what to do. Like forgetting to actually tell Hermione how he felt, anything other than holding her at night had not been a priority for him. He loved her deeply, he sought her comfort, but the grief still lingered and he'd not even contemplated taking their relationship further. Well, it had crossed his mind, but not as a serious thought. Not until after the funerals…
But now that it had been presented to him, even if she hadn't said the words directly, it seemed highly appealing.
"Have you, er, been thinking about this?" he asked, pulling completely away from her and sitting up in the bed.
"It's not something that spontaneously popped into my mind, if that's what you mean," Hermione said. For the first time, her voice sounded flat. "Sorry if I scared you. I just thought… I should probably have asked. Do you want to?"
"Yes!" Ron said, a little too quickly. He blushed, but then noticing the smile on her face he added, "Merlin, yes. I love you. I want to. You just caught me completely by surprise. That's all."
"Sorry." Hermione also sat up, facing him. "Perhaps I was a little too forward."
"No, no," Ron said. "I liked that." He grinned, albeit awkwardly. It didn't stop his body from tingling all over, though. A seed had firmly been planted in his mind now, and it was a good seed. A fantastic one.
"Just not tonight?" Hermione guessed.
Truthfully, as much as the idea thrilled him, it terrified him just the same. He was more than happy to kiss her, to hold her hand, but the concept of sex was something different. The insecurities he felt about being so intimate washed over him, just like they had done when Lavender had asked the same of him all those months ago.
The only difference this time was that he genuinely liked Hermione a whole lot more...
Taking his silence for hesitation, Hermione said, "I'm sorry, Ron. I didn't mean to —"
"Don't be," Ron said, reaching out and running a hand along her exposed arm. "You just made me start thinking."
"About?"
He watched her, his heart beating rapidly as he did. She was just incredible. Amazing. She was perfect, and there she was, scarred as much as him from the war, but wanting him. Ron. She loved him.
"Not tonight," he said, shaking his head. "But tomorrow? As nice as it was, you throwing yourself at me isn't exactly how I imagined it to go… not for the first time."
She smiled and nodded. "Okay," she said, and she crawled slightly forward on the bed and kissed him. He wrapped his arms around her, now realising how much he wanted her back, how much he wanted to be with her. Now, he had to exercise a whole lot of control because her touch set his skin on fire.
"Hm," he chuckled, pushing her away.
"What?" Hermione asked.
"Maybe we should… take a break," he said, uncomfortably.
"Why? Oh," Hermione flushed, seeing Ron's own red cheeks. She climbed off him. "Right. Sorry." She laid back down on the bed with Ron beside her, though he dared not touch her again just yet.
As he drifted off to sleep, his mind trailed to tomorrow night, and despite his heart pounding in his chest, and his sudden sweaty palms, it couldn't come quick enough.
His last thought before falling asleep was of Hermione, and how he simply could not control just how much he loved her.
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And there is the first chapter of who knows how many! I hope you enjoyed, and remember, if you'd like some extra content, or just to interact, please follow the Insta (no spaces) 'whenihaveyou . romione'
This will also be published on ao3 (under FireTheCanon) and Tumblr (handle is 'whenihaveyouromione').
A MAJOR, HUGE, MASSIVE thank you to Autumn (insertcleverandwittytitlehere) who has graciously offered to beta this for me. Your feedback and help has already been AMAZING, along with your encouragement. THANK YOU.
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pastelsapphy · 5 years ago
Note
Why does Sylvian hates himself?
(This ended up being really long whoops)
*cracks knuckles* time to talk about my boy
[All quotes taken from the Fire Emblem Fandom Wiki, so there may be some slight inaccuracies]
Okay so first off Sylvain grew up in a shitty environment, to say the absolute least, and that fucks with your head.
First: his brother. He attempted to kill Sylvain on multiple occasions as kids because Sylvain had a Crest. And Sylvain just like, accepts that??? You can see that a lot in his A support with Byleth. He talked about being shoved in a well and being left on a mountain in winter by his brother, and almost immediately followed up with “I have no right to complain” because he, in theory, got lucky: he got the Crest.
And you figure, he would’ve grown up apologizing and made to feel guilty just for existing. You can see in his dialogue against Miklan, in chapter five:
Miklan: Hmph! Hurry up and die already. If not for you… If it hadn’t been for you…
Sylvain: Shut up! I’m so tired of hearing that. You’ve always blamed me for something that isn’t my fault.
He’s definitely been saying that since they were kids. That kinda stuff really fucks with your sense of self-worth after a while.
Then we have the rest of his family. We don’t hear anything about his mother, or much about his father, but we can infer some things about the latter: Margrave Gautier disowned, abandoned, and cast aside his first son in favor of the one with a Crest. Considering the dialogue about “everything being taken away” from Miklan, it’s possible that he was being raised to be the next Margrave, because someone had to inherit–with Crests becoming less common, who knows how long it would’ve taken to get a kid with one, if they got one at all? They needed a backup plan. And then Sylvain came along, with the minor Crest of Gautier, and suddenly Miklan didn’t exist. That’s fucked up, and it shows how little Margrave Gautier cared about his kids. I honestly doubt he showed Sylvain any kind of affection or attention growing up, and probably only interacted with him for inheritance- and Crest-related reasons. To him, Sylvain was a walking Crest, not a person (Sylvain’s fear of people only ever wanting him for his Crest, and not as a person in any respect, had to come from somewhere).
(And, if I can add a bit of an aside, I feel like this is the root of his philandering. Makes me think of the whole “even negative attention is better than nothing” kinda thing. You figure, Little Sylvain would have been incredibly touch-starved and desperate for attention. Humans are a social species and we literally need attention and affection to live well. I mean, he flirted with Ingrid’s grandmother when he was eight. I can only imagine what he said/did if Ingrid remembered it, considering she would have been five or six at the time. And kids that young don’t really know any better yet. Poor kid probably just wanted attention.)
(Additional aside that came to mind while writing this: I wonder if seeing the arrangement between Ingrid and Glenn affected this at all? Like yeah marriages in that kind of setting were purely political and such, but Ingrid was engaged to Glenn because (a) House Fraldarius was a powerful, well-to-do noble family and House Galatea really needed the resources, and (b) Ingrid was desirable as a wife because she had a Crest. Of course, we don’t know the exact circumstances of the arrangement, but we can infer from her other prospects. Sylvain still would have essentially seen Ingrid being used for leverage because of her Crest.)
So long before the events of the game, Sylvain is already pretty fucked up, emotionally. Trauma does that to you, especially when you have an “everyone else has it worse and I, actually, got lucky, so it doesn’t count and I’m not allowed to feel bad about it” complex. Survivor’s guilt is a hell of a drug lemme tell you. Sylvain has already internalized that,
He’s only good for his Crest
Any negative feelings about his Crest don’t matter, because those without have it worse.
No one will ever truly see him as a person–he’s just a Crest.
Already, that’s a pretty fucked up view of oneself.
By the time he gets to Garreg Mach, he has a carefully crafted persona set up: He’s an asshole, a liar, a serial flirt and cheater, dumb as a box of rocks, and a self-proclaimed “good-for-nothing.” In his B support with Dedue, you hear that people describe him as “indefensibly worthless,” which is followed by,
Sylvain: Indefensibly? Heh, that’s a bit harsh.
Dedue: I already knew your reputation concerning women. But these new rumors deprive you of all redemption. I did try to correct them. But I doubt I was believed.
Sylvain: Well, thank you all the same. Listen. You don’t need to worry what people think about me. As you well know, it’s not easy to correct misunderstandings or change people’s minds. And if I’m going to behave so badly, it seems misunderstandings are inevitable.
He doesn’t even argue, just kinda brushes it off and accepts that’s just How He Is (listen, Sylvain can definitely be an asshole at times, but I have to agree with that being harsh). He doesn’t want people to expect anything from him (well, not anything good). In his supports with Annette, he’s shown to be pretty smart, but admits he hides it because the pressure it puts on him is suffocating. He kinda goes out of his way to hide his more redeeming qualities like that. Also on that point, we have this bit from his B support with Ashe,
Sylvain: […] My advice on the whole thing is just to follow your instincts. That’s what I do. If someone’s in trouble, I help them. You don’t need to be a valiant knight to know that. Doesn’t matter if the person is an ugly old man or the cutest girl you’ve ever seen, you help ‘em.
Ashe: So, you’re saying…
Sylvain: Everybody’s the same, deep down. It’s our job to help anyone who needs it.
Ashe: Ah!
Sylvain: What? You’re looking at me funny. Did I say something wrong?
Ashe: No! No. I’m just surprised, that’s all. You’re actually a much better person than I thought.
“You’re actually a much better person than I thought.” Several of his supports have some variation of this line. Usually after he does something kind. And I mean, Sylvain is a kind person, under the philandering. Most of his supports involve him helping others out somehow.
He helps Dimitri with the girl situation (he kinda got him into it in the first place but I digress)
His whole C with Dedue is pretty much “racism is stupid and I’m going to be your friend, fuck what everyone else says.”
In his supports with Felix and Ashe, he helps them out in battle, at a detriment to himself (You can also throw Byleth in here, during their A support, but he was a jerk in their C and B).
In his Annette supports, she calls him out for going easy on her during training. He admits he was, but only because he didn’t want her to feel bad because she puts so much effort into her work while he “sorta gets by on [his] wits”
Okay I need to say how much I love his supports with Bernadetta???? He does genuinely try to compliment her work, and when he sees speaking to Bernie face-to-face won’t work, he goes out of his way to write a nice and well-worded review (a fairly lengthy one, according to Bernie) and compliment of her work–which Bernadetta takes to much better than she did talking in person. And this is one of the few supports where he doesn’t try to flirt. He’s just trying to give her genuine compliments on her writing and goes out of his way to do it without upsetting her.
His support with Hilda could go a few ways, but he did return the books for her and he did apparently get yelled at for something he didn’t do and didn’t even try to deflect that. And it seems that’s not even why he confronts her later: it’s because of how her actions were detrimental to other people (”And those books you left in your room for so long? Teachers and classmates needed those. So stop lying, and maybe stop being quite as selfish too.”). It’s not until she asks if the librarian said anything that he’s like “Oh, yeah, they yelled at me.”
And a fair amount of people still see him as “indefensibly worthless.” Sylvain often goes out of his way to help people, but he tends to brush it off and keep it lowkey.
I got a little off track here, but my point for this is Sylvain projects an outward appearance of being a really shitty, deplorable person. Almost everyone he has supports with is GENUINELY surprised when they realize that no, he’s not as bad as all the rumors about him imply. Sylvain just doesn’t really want people to know. And, as much as he plays it off like he doesn’t care, that kind thing gets to you after a while. So everyone except a handful of close friends seeing him in such a negative light? It filters in eventually, even if you’re not already emotionally fucked up.
Another thing I want to point out: A lot of times, it seems like Sylvain does not give a shit about what happens to him. A few of his support conversations involve him taking a blow in battle to protect someone else (and his attitude afterward is “better me than them”). Reading his A+ with Felix, “…protecting me like that. You’re so weak and yet you always… always…” this is definitely something Sylvain has a habit of doing. Additionally, we have one of his goal requests: “The best way to impress people is to save them by diving into harm’s way. That’s what a Great Knight does, yeah?” In true Sylvain style he covers it with “I just want to impress people” but he’s still devoting his training to being the guy who jumps in front of everyone else to tank the hit. Fully committing to that kind of thing takes more than just a shallow want to “impress people.” Then there’s his Monastery line to Byleth, toward the end of Verdant Wind I believe?, where he says he fights like he wants to die. Which…. yeah.
Another line of his that sticks with me: “burn until we meet again,” after defeating an enemy post-time skip. A friend of mine pointed out it might just be dramatic, but I think about that a lot. Does he think he’s going to the 3h equivalent of hell??? Does he think he’s that terrible of a person??
Uh this turned out to be a lot longer than i thought. So I guess to sum up:
Sylvain grew up internalizing the idea that he doesn’t have any worth as a person. Everything he is and has is related to his Crest. Everything that people feel towards him is related to his Crest and not who he is as a person.
He internalized the idea that because he has a Crest, that he’s not allowed to be upset about any of this, because he got lucky.
Growing up with Miklan’s abuse, he was definitely made to feel guilty about simply daring to exist. So he grows up hating himself.
He developed an outward persona that only reinforced these ideas–he makes and lets people believe he’s a piece of shit.
His attitude in battle shows how little he seems to care about himself.
tl;dr: Sylvain grew up without any love or affection, and was severely emotionally fucked up by his family, which complicated his relationships with other people and his view of himself as a person and his worth. He purposely projected an image of himself to support this, letting people believe he’s a shit person and doesn’t argue back because he feels it’s well-deserved. He doesn’t seem to think he’s actually worth anything. Sylvain, of course, like all people, has negative traits–that’s just part of being human. But his sense of self has been so warped and twisted over the years that he can’t seem to do anything but hate himself.
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bloodfromthethorn · 3 years ago
Text
Accident
Matty, usually, loves her job, but there are some days where she can't help but feel she just isn't being paid enough for it.
Part eleven of the July of Whump 2021 prompt challenge.
Also on AO3. 
..
For all its covert operations, thanks to the think tank cover, The Phoenix was still technically classified as a regular place of business. That meant a lot of things, like paying property taxes and having to report earnings to the state, but by far one of the most mundane outcomes was the need for an Accident Book. In theory, any time someone employed by The Phoenix was injured while at work they had to write a short report detailing the accident for the book, and every year or so, The Phoenix would have to submit their anonymised incident reports to the local council.
Of course, this posed something of a problem for a government agency trying to stay off the radar; even with identifying information taken out, someone was probably going to take note if a seemingly mundane think tank reported 18 gunshot wounds over the course of a single year.
The workaround, therefore, had been that any injuries acquired outside of the building – like, say, when agents were out on missions – didn’t go into the book, and instead it was filled with the much more minor things that occurred in the relative safety of the Phoenix. There were still a couple of things that had to be omitted, like Bozer getting stabbed, but mostly, the plan seemed to work out okay. With a whole block of science labs taking up a considerable chunk of the building, there were more than enough burned fingertips and electric shocks that weren’t suspicious to fill a passably convincing report.
That being said, Matty wasn’t entirely sure how she was supposed to play this one off as a standard workplace mishap.
“Okay, okay, stop. I’m going to need you to run this by me again. Start at the beginning.”
“Well, like I said, we had Sparky up on the table-”
“At the beginning, Bozer,” she cut in, shooting her two agents a firm look. Boze’s natural charisma was, as ever, unhindered by her glare, while Mac did his usual trick of falling back on his army training and acquired a blank expression to let any yelling wash right over him. Jack did the same whenever he was genuinely in trouble and it drove Matty crazy any time it happened.
“We were working on separate projects,” Mac explained in a much more level tone than Boze had managed. To be fair, that might have had something to do with the gauze wrapped tightly around his forehead. “I’m still trying to troubleshoot that luminogen work for the dev team – you know, the glowstick stuff?”
She nodded.
“Right. And Bozer-”
“I was trying to fix a glitch in Sparky’s programming.”
“You were trying to make him call you sir,” Mac put in with a snort. He sobered as soon as he caught Matty’s hard stare. “But, uh, yeah. We were both just in the lab doing our own thing. Then Boze called me over to take a look at something-”
“I needed a spare part of hands to rewire the circuit board while I updated the code, and you know how much Mac hates someone else messing up his wiring.”
“I wasn’t working on anything volatile, so I dropped what I was doing and went to help. All of my stuff should have been completely fine where it was.”
Matty eyed him critically. He didn’t look like he was lying, but then it was a little hard to tell how much of that was down to the concussion and the bruises swelling on the left side of his face. “But it wasn’t,” she concluded.
“One of the other lab techs came through when I was focused on Sparky,” he explained with a wince. “She didn’t know that I still had things running and she noticed that my nitrogen line was still live, so she shut it off.”
“Don’t we have standard practices in place so that doesn’t happen?”
“Yes, but she’s only been with us two weeks. She didn’t know any better.”
“Mhmm.”
“Honestly Matty, it’s not her fault. I shouldn’t have left an active reaction unattended without sticking a red form up. That’s the standard practice that’s supposed to stop this thing from happening.”
“But you didn’t fill in the form.”
“I didn’t think I’d be gone long and I was still in the same room. Besides, the team usually knows not to mess with anything I’m working on, whether I’ve put up a form or not.” He went to rub at his face, then aborted the attempt when his fingers brushed over the gauze, wincing. Bozer and Matty were both watching him carefully, but he didn’t start keeling over so it would have to be good enough.
Matty sighed heavily. Playing the blame game wasn’t going to get them anywhere; she just needed to know what happened. “Okay then. You and Boze were over with Sparky and a lab tech shut off a nitrogen valve. Then what?”
“Well, nothing, for a little while. I was using the nitrogen to keep the reaction system anoxic, so everything was already sealed. Even without the nitrogen feed, it should have been fine to just sit there until I came back to it. Only, it turns out that when you combine the fluorescent polymer our dev team synthesised with NMP – the solvent I was using – it drops a proton and turns acidic.” He rolled his eyes as he said it, as if judging his own mistake like either Matty or Bozer had any concept of how predictable the problem could have been, then regretted it as it sent him dizzy again.
“Let me guess,” Matty said to give him a moment to recover, “The acid burned through a seal?”
“A rubber bung I was using to act as an injection port,” he confirmed grimly. “The seal failed and oxygen got in.”
“And the polymer is pyrophoric,” she finished for him. When he shot her a startled look, she shrugged. “I do read the reports I get sent Blondie. The spontaneous fire problem was one of the things they wanted you to take a look at, right?”
“Yeah. I hadn’t got to that part though.”
“Evidently.”
Boze jumped in to spare Mac the effort of defending himself. Now that the actual chemistry stuff was out the way, he knew the rest of the story. “While all this was happening, we were having a few problems with Sparky. The code was disagreeing with his logic boards, and it was making him fritz out pretty badly. He nearly took Mac’s fingers off when he sat up without warning.”
“And scared the hell out of us both,” Mac agreed.
“Yeah. Thank god Jack wasn’t in the room. We’d still be trying to get him down from the rafters.”
Matty cleared her throat and the pair of them snapped back to attention. Well, as at attention as Mac could reasonably be sitting up on one of the examination tables in the med bay.
With a cowed look, Bozer continued. “We were trying to work out what had happened, so we got Sparky going through a few movements. Because we weren’t finished, we didn’t bother getting him down off the table, so when he stood up completely…”
“He was a nine foot tall, eight hundred pound accident waiting to happen,” Mac finished. He gave a single shoulder shrug when Matty raised an eyebrow at him. “What? Even I’m willing to admit this whole thing was stupid.”
She’d more or less pieced together the rest of the story by now, but she still felt she should hear it for herself. Proper protocol and all that. “Alright. Then what?”
“We were trying to get Sparky back down when the reaction system blew,” Mac said. “We were far enough away that we weren’t at risk of burns, but Boze got a facefull of dye and Sparky got knocked off the table.”
“And onto you.”
He grimaced faintly, casting an offended eye at the sling supporting what had recently been a very dislocated shoulder. The expression did nothing to soften the bruises scattered across his face. “Yeah.”
Beside him, a slightly discoloured Boze swayed to knock their uninjured shoulders together. “Sorry, man,” he said, not for the first time. “Can’t help but think this is my fault.”
“It wasn’t. My reaction, my boom. Besides, you’re the one who’s going to be glowing in the dark for the next two weeks.”
“Yeah, and I’m sure the ladies will love it. You’re the one with the busted up arm.”
“It’s nothing, really. My shoulder pops out all the time.”
“You say that like it’s comforting and I gotta tell you man, it really ain’t.”
Matty’s gaze flicked between them. As much of a mess as Mac was, and despite the fact that Bozer was a lot more green than he had been when he’d arrived at work that morning, they’d both been signed off by medical with minor injuries. In theory, it was exactly the sort of thing that should go in her accident report, and yet she had a sneaking suspicion this particular story was going to raise a lot more questions than she was really willing to answer. It was funny – Mac had a habit of bringing that feeling out in her.
“Okay,” she said. “Okay. I think I’ve got the picture. I’m not even going to pretend I understand how you managed to configure such a comedy of errors, but I trust that you’ve both learned how to avoid this problem in future?”
Like two boys caught doing something they shouldn’t, they both nodded quickly in unison. She couldn’t quite bite back her smile. “Alright then. Bozer, you’re cleared to work for the rest of the day should you wish to. Mac, you’re off rotation entirely until that concussion clears up, then it’s light duty to let your shoulder heal. I’ve called Jack to come pick you up.”
That certainly got his attention. “You called Jack? It’s his day off!”
“I’m well aware. But you can’t drive with that arm and as your nominated next of kin, he’s left standing orders to be informed every time you get injured. He should be here any minute.”
Bozer was snickering to himself, while Mac’s expression had folded into something between desolate and sheepish. Matty had had a hell of time getting Jack to calm down and listen when she’d first called to tell him Mac was in medical and evidently Mac had some idea of the helicopter parenting about to rain down on his head. Maybe that would be the thing to actually make him realise the seriousness of his own actions.
“Great,” he muttered sarcastically, just as Matty heard the door to medical swing open so forcefully it cracked against the wall. With a dry smile, she stood back and waited to see the fireworks.
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melancholydreadfuldream · 5 years ago
Text
Going Under Part Three
Fandom: Doctor Who
Pairing: 13th Doctor x Reader
Summary: An accident during a routine adventure made your life spiraled out of control with only the Doctor as the anchor. Will you ever find your way back to your Doctor again?
Trigger Warning: ooc, angst, plot holes as usual, attempted suicide, dark!doctor, death, insanity, etc. You have been warned.
More warning: English is not my first language so beware of the headache you will receive upon reading this.
  A/N: I got a few encouraging comments from the last two part of this stories and I am so very grateful. Thank you, guys! It kinda inspired me to write for part three but unfortunately I still couldn't wrap it up. I can't make any promise for part four. I am really worry that part three will be the part where you guys decided it is bad writing and not worth reading after all. Even so, please be sure to drop comments etc if you like this maybe?
     I opened my eyes and found myself in...well, not the Tardis. Where am I? I took around at my surrounding. Some broadcast station...in space?
  I heard voices on the distant and I decided to go see it. With my luck so far, it will probably direct me to the Doctor. But to my surprise, it was Jack Harkness. He was standing surrounded by people and he was talking about the Daleks coming for them. He asked for volunteers to help him to fight off the Daleks. Some of the people doesn't seem to believe him but there were some who did and actually brave enough to agree to make a stand.
  "Where do I sign-up?" I asked without thinking. Part of me grimaced at the stupid albeit cool line I said. Distinctly, I wonder if I still have a death wish. Maybe I am.
  Jack look surprised to see me and then he grinned. "Well, isn't this a nice surprise?" He walked toward me. "You are the girl from before."
  I grimaced remembering my state of mind at the time of we last met. "yeah, sorry, my mind a bit scrambled before." I remembered meeting him with Ninth Doctor and Rose. Before I could give them a proper explanation, I was ripped away but their Doctor should be able to piece information about me from my rambling. But I don't exactly remember what I said to them. I was messed up at the time. "So, is the Doctor here? Where is he?"
  "Upstairs with Rose, preparing some defense against the Daleks." Jack replied. "Come on." He gestured me to follow him to the lift. "He would love to see you. You leave us very confused and curious."
  I follow him and entered the lift along with the volunteers which are not many. I noticed he has gun on his hand. "Am I gonna get one of those?"
  "Do you even know how to use gun?"
  I blinked. "No." I stared at his gun. "Teach me. I'm sure you are good with guns."
  "That's not all I'm good at." He said with a wink.
  I chuckled in amusement. "Oh, I'm sure." I met him before so I know he's such a flirt. I remembered Graham slipped up and told us that Jack had kissed him in the mouth when he thought he was the Doctor. "But on a serious note, can you teach me how to use gun?"
  Jack glanced down at me, assessing me I think. He noticed my bandaged wrist but thankfully made no question about it. "Sure, if that is what you want."
  "It is." I said. Remembering the alternate version of my Doctor I saw before, she is dead, shot by some weapon that disable regeneration. I wanted to be able to protect her. I know the Doctor disapprove of gun but I have to learn to defend myself especially since I'm still being thrown all over the alternate universe and meeting the likes of the Master or Daleks. 
  I sighed. Am I going with the theory of alternate universe again? Or that I'm going insane by hallucination? Either way, this is the right time to start learning to use a gun. A brief suicidal thought of using the gun on myself crossed my mind. Someday maybe. I shook my head and tried to focus on the last word of the alternate Thirteenth Doctor about keeping my faith and hope, and that words again about trust in the Doctor. I put my hand over my beating heart. I guess I have to try.
  Jack is staring at me in concern but he didn't ask which I'm super grateful. As we arrived on some floor, he instructed the other volunteers to be in their position before turning to me and led me to go see the Doctor. 
  "Doctor, look who I found lurking around." Jack announced.
  The Doctor glanced up from what he has been working on and was surprised to see me. He stood up in disbelief and walked toward me. "It's you."
  I smiled hesitantly. "Hi. I'm (name)?" I introduced myself.
  To my surprise, the Doctor smiled brightly at me. "It's good to see you again." He said as he hugged me. He released me and glanced down at me. "You look better than before." He noticed my bandaged wrist and his smile faltered momentarily.
  I grimaced and I pray he didn't mention it. "yeah, I'm sorry you have to see my breakdown like that." Ugh, why does this particular Doctor has to witness my condition at worst? I could tell the guilt in his eyes even though what happened to me is out of anyone's control. If I die on his watch, I have a feeling he would take it really hard.
  "So, the Daleks, huh?" I switched topic. "I met a Dalek once with my Doctor during new year. It caused a blackout on Britain's internet system." I smiled at the somewhat fond memory about Ryan make a comment what a monster the Dalek was for doing that.
  The Doctor gazed at me with a look I can't decipher. 
  "So, what's the plan?" I asked, feeling uncomfortable.
  "Where is Rose?" Jack suddenly asked out-loud.
  I realized that Rose is nowhere around too late. So much for being more aware of my surrounding...
  The Doctor has a look on his face and both Jack and I know that he must have send her home. A very Doctor-ly action of him. 
  Jack goes away to deal with some of the volunteers and I sat back with the Doctor.
  "How can I help?" I asked, knowing full well I'm kinda useless. I wondered if I should have gone with Jack so I could ask him if he has a moment later to teach me how to use gun. Yes, my mind still made up on learning that.
  The Doctor busied himself with some wire on a box. For a while, I thought he will be ignoring me but he suddenly asked that dreading question, "How are you holding up?"
  I blinked. "I'm fine."
  He stopped what he worked on and turned to me. "What happened to your wrist?" He asked.
  "It was nothing. I got hurt."
  "By your own hand?" he asked bluntly.
  Wow, he must have think I'm unstable as a person. Well, I can't blame him for reaching that conclusion, considering the first and last time we met, I actually admitted of trying to hang myself. And It's not like he's wrong about it.
  "I'm fine." I repeated firmly. I looked away unable to hold his gaze any longer. "I will be okay."
  We were interrupted by a transmission from a Dalek. It was talking about a delta wave or whatever I couldn't keep up. Once the transmission is over, the Doctor look troubled. It looked like he was almost in despair and it's not a good look on him.
  I coughed up blood again much to my annoyance. I turned from him, not wanting him to see it. I pulled the medicine from my bag, wondering if I should pop one and stick around here. I know thing is about to be dangerous around here.
  "What is that?" The Doctor suddenly asked, surprising me and I dropped the medicine on the floor.
  I cursed. "Don't do that." I reprimanded him for jumping me.
  "Sorry." He said with a sheepish grin.
  "It was just a med I'm taking." I said, determined to be vague. The Doctor gave me that look again and I sighed. "Fine, what do you want to know?"
  He grinned at me and gesture me to seat on the floor with him.
  I explained what happened to me as short as possible. I showed him my notebook but I warned him about it might containing his alternate future with description of his alternate future regeneration and companion. 
  "I guess I have a future..." He said with a grin at the mention of future regeneration.
  "You're the Doctor. You will beat the Daleks." I reassured him.
  It has the opposite reaction. He looked sad. "Not always."
  I showed him the Twelfth Doctor's writing on my page. 
  He grabbed the notebook and read it. "This is my language."
  "Is it?"
  "The language of the Time Lord. Future me must have trusted you." He said.
  I felt my heart ached at that. I kinda felt like I'm letting that particular Twelfth Doctor down by losing the will to live. What would he says if he see me now? 
  The Doctor must noticed something on my expression. Probably the same despair that he currently felt against the Daleks. He pulled me into his embrace. "I'm so sorry. I can tell things has been hard for you."
  I felt my face hot as I could tell I'm about to cry again. "Stop it." I said. "You're going to make me cry again."
  "Then cry."
  "But the Daleks..."
  "It's fine. Let go, (name)."
  And I did. I cried and I poured my heart out to him about the despair I still feel clutching me and the loneliness I felt from time to time. 
  "You are not alone. All the alternate Doctors in all those other alternate universe will be your allies." He said. "Just have faith and keep hope in your heart."
  The same word the alternate Thirteenth Doctor said to me. They really are the same person. 
  I nodded weakly and said, "Thank you."
  Another transmission from the Daleks and they basically mocking the Doctor of his situation. While the Doctor dealt with the Daleks, I saw Jack who seemed to be listening to my earlier conversation with the Doctor. He gestured me to follow him and he gave me a gun. He teach me the basic of how to use a gun. I was nervous but I still stand in my belief that I need to at least know how to use one.
  I decided to go with Jack to help defend the floor but the Doctor stopped me. 
  "It's not safe." He said.
  "It's fine."
  "No, it's not." He said stubbornly.
  I realized he still think I am suicidal. Am I? His words earlier does make me feel better. Do I still want to give up? Or am I going to give this nightmare another chance?
  Jack left me with the Doctor, knowing how protective the Doctor is with companion, albeit an alternate one.
  I flinched when I started to hear the scream and the sound of gun from the other floor.
  The Doctor asked me to help him move some wires around and so I did as he instructed.
  Things has gotten really serious when the Daleks finally reaches the floor we are in. 
  Distinctly I wonder what happened to Jack. He should be fine, I think, because I met his alternate self far in the Doctor's future, right...?
  "Doctor!!" I yelled to warn him. I suddenly felt the usual tingling, a sign I was about to be ripped away but a Dalek suddenly shot at me.
  The Doctor stared helplessly in horror as I screamed in pain and fell to the floor at the exact moment the Tardis materialized within the room and Rose is there, glowing.
  I felt pain and then I was gone.
  7777
  "Come on! Come on! (name), hold on!"
  I distinctly heard a woman's voice shouting at me and she was pressing on my chest repeatedly. I wanted to protest but my body is hurt and I can't open my eyes.
  "(name), please hold on. Don't you dare give up!" The woman shouted near me.
  I groaned and I opened my eyes but my sight is blurred. Ooh, it was Thirteenth Doctor. How can I not recognize her voice?
  The Doctor sighed in relief as she saw me open my eyes. "(name)...."
  I wanted to speak but I found I couldn't.
  The Doctor's eyes darted toward something I couldn't see. She moved her face closer to me and she said, "Listen to me, (name), this is important, whatever happened, don't take...."
  I blacked out.
  7777
  "(name), are you okay? Are you hurt?"
  I blinked when I saw Tenth Doctor and Donna. I was lying on the ground somewhere. "owww..." I groaned.
  "Is that the '(name)'? Your future alternate companion? That '(name)'?" Donna asked the Doctor.
  What? He told her about me?
  I blinked again. 
  The Doctor pulled his sonic screwdriver and scanned me. "You are injured..."
  "My whole body hurts...." I complained in a hoarse voice. "That dalek got me just as I was about to splinter..."
  The Doctor's eyes widened at the mention of the Dalek. "You are so lucky, (name), you didn't suffer the full blunt of the shot it seemed."
  "I don't feel lucky though..." I said I grabbed his arm and forced myself on a seating position. I turned to Donna and greeted her. "Hello."
  Donna smiled in friendly manner. "Hello, I'm Donna and you are (name), I have heard so much about you." she said. "He talks about you all the time."
  I raised my eyebrows at the Doctor who looked a little red in the neck. 
  He shrugged. "I was worried for you."
  I smiled. "Thanks."
  He grinned at me and helped me up. 
  "Where are we?" I asked as I took on my surrounding. I was in some bazaar...on some alien planet?
  Donna grinned and grabbed my arm. "Come on. From what the Doctor told me, you deserve a break." she said.
  I let myself be dragged by her as she took me to some stand that sells various stuff. I turned to eye the Doctor and gesture my head toward Donna.
  The Doctor smirked at me and shrugged.
  We tried some alien food and have some fun with it. I pulled my medicine discreetly and pop one. Donna's right, I deserve a break, don't I?
  The Doctor noticed when I swallowed my medicine despite my attempt to be discreet.
  Donna, sensing he want to talk to me alone, left us behind to check on some stand.
  He raised an eyebrow at me.
  "It was for my internal bleeding." I said finally. "Your alternate future-self made it for me."
  He look saddened at the reminder that I was dying.
  "Come on, don't make that kind of face." I said. 
  "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I should have provided some answers or cure for you by now." He replied.
  "It's fine. I'm sure you did your best."
  The Doctor didn't reply for a second. He has a distant look. He eventually said, "Martha and I went to the coordinate you gave us last time." He sighed and then turned to look at me in the eyes. "We didn't find anything. It seemed your scientists does not exist here."
  "Ooh." I didn't know what to say to that. On top of not being existed here, apparently the cause of my predicament also did not?
  "I still check on the coordinate from time to time..." The Doctor said. "So far, nothing."
  I hated seeing that sad and guilty look on his face. "Okay, enough, we should stop being a downer. Today is about having fun." I said suddenly.
  The Doctor blinked at me and smiled slowly. He raised his hand toward me.
  I glanced up at him, rolling my eyes fondly at him and took his hand, allowing him to take me to continue sightseeing.
  We joined back with Donna and we try to have some fun, pushing the elephant in the room away.
  Eventually I got a bit tired and have a seat by myself while the Doctor and Donna goes to check out some stuff, promising to come back and buy me some more food.
  I pulled my notebook and started writing what has been happening to me so far. I sighed after I finished writing.
  "What are you writing?" The Doctor asked as he come back with some food that smell delicious and he gave one to me.
  I smiled gratefully at him. I explained the function of my notebook.
  He stared at me with almost a solemn look. "Are you okay?"
  I sighed. "I'm fine, Doctor, please don't worry about me, okay?"
  "I can't help it. Last time we met, the Master..." He trailed. 
  "One of the alternate Doctors helped me after that. She fixed my mind."
  "She, huh? Not your Doctor?"
  My smile faltered. I diverted my eyes somewhere else.
  "You can tell me anything, (name)." He said. "I would like to be of help to you."
  Oh, Doctors, whichever universes you come from, why do you always staring at me like my predicament is their fault?
  "You are helping, of course, you are. Being here with you...you made me feel almost normal again." I said trying to reassured him.
  He glanced at me with that look again.
  "I'm fine." I said. "I will be okay. I met your alternate past-self and he said that I am not alone. All the alternate Doctors in all the alternate universe will be my allies."
  He sighed. "He is right." He said. He pulled my notebook and my pen from me.
  "What are you doing?"
  "Helping you convincing whichever Doctors you get next." He said as he opened the notebook to a blank page and started scribbling something on it.
  When I read what he wrote, I laughed. He wrote it in english but at the end he is writing in the same language as the Twelfth Doctor. The Ninth Doctor told me it was the language of the Time Lord. I wonder what it meant, the words he's writing.
  The Doctor grinned boyishly at me.
  Donna joined us and she exclaimed loudly about some magnificent show out there and demanded we go with her.
  I put the notebook back on my bag as I rushed to follow Donna and the Doctor.
  I have fun with them. I think this is one of the best days so far ever since the nightmarish incident happened to me.
  Somehow I got separated from them and that's when I was stopped by a strange woman. She owned a stand. She said she is some kind of oracle. She took a look at me and kinda forcing me to let her see my future.
  I thought why not. Maybe she can show me the way home. So, I entered her tent. An aromatic smell assaulted my nose. She has one of those glass ball which make me smiled.
  She told me to sit so I did and she told me to stare at the glass ball and think of what I wanted to know.
  I felt foolish for doing this but I did it anyway. I fervently hope, thinking about how to get back to my reality.
  She snapped her fingers suddenly and I blacked out.
   I opened my eyes to the sight of some trees and a garden. I saw an old woman watering the flower. She has long white hair in a braid. I saw an ugly scarred skin on her wrist resembling the number 99.
   I suddenly was shook awake harshly by Donna followed by her screaming at someone about what she has done to me.
  I opened my eyes and some scary huge bug on my chest and I felt like the bug is chocking me somehow. I was about to scream just as Donna pulled the bug off me. I coughed up harshly and weakly tried to sit up.
  Donna is yelling at the woman.
  I saw the bug walked and flown toward Donna. "Donna, watch out!" I yelled but my voice is hoarse and unclear.
  To my horror, the bug has landed on Donna's back and Donna stared at me in shock before she suddenly fainted.
  At the worst moment, that tingling happened and I screamed for the Doctor but I was gone.
  7777
  I fell to the ground. I was on the street somewhere on earth. Everyone seemed panicking. When I looked up to the sky, I know why everyone is panicking. I could saw planets on the sky. What the hell? What is happening?
  "It's you." Someone suddenly said.
  I turned around and I saw Rose. She was carrying a huge gun.
  "(name), right? The Doctor told me about you. If you are here, the Doctor must be near somewhere." She said. "Come on, follow me if you want to live."
  I was dumbfounded by her. She is such a bad-ass.
  She grinned at me. She took a look at me and realized I was unarmed. "Do you know how to use a gun?"
  "Well, Jack teaches me but I haven't got a gun or time to practice it yet."
  She hummed and pulled a stun gun from her bag. She taught me how to use it.
  I stared at the stun gun. "thanks?"
  "You're welcome. Now, let's go and find the Doctor." She said as she cocked her gun.
  I was amazed by this girl. She is awesome.
  As we walked together, I discreetly observed her. Rose. I met her with Ninth Doctor which mean he survived the Daleks on that space station. I was glad.
  We walked the currently empty street and there far away we spotted the Tardis. 
  I saw Tenth Doctor and Donna? I was confused now. Are they the same Tenth Doctor and Donna from my last trip? But this Rose is with Ninth Doctor, right? But that meant the Ninth Doctor has regenerated into his Tenth version. Dear God, I'm going to get a headache trying to make sense which Doctors I'm getting from now on. 
  Rose grinned as the Doctor stared at her in awe. They run toward each other.
  Wow, I felt like a third wheel at that moment.
  Suddenly the Doctor was shot by the Daleks. I ran toward the Doctor and Rose immediately.
  Jack appeared suddenly and shot at the Daleks before grabbing the Doctor toward the Tardis. 
  Rose and Donna were crying.
  I was numb. No way. I don't want to watch the Doctor dies again. He has to regenerate, right?
  The Doctor started to glow in yellow.
  Jack yelled at us to get back and away from the Doctor. But to all of our surprise, the Doctor is fine next? He transferred his regeneration energy on a tube containing...hand? What the hell?
  The Doctor is fine and he acted like he is not just gotten shot much to all of our confusion. He eventually explained it to us.
  I sighed. The Doctor is just so full of surprise.
  The Doctor and Rose are having a moment together. It was then I realized that this Doctor is in love with Rose and she is feeling the same. But what about River? I groaned, I'm having a lot of information on the Doctor, much more than my Doctor probably want anyone to know. That's probably the one good thing from being forced to one alternate universes to another. I know more about the Doctor now...somewhat.
  The Doctor finally gazed at me. He grinned and gave me a hug. "(name)! It's good to see you again!" He said. As he hugged me, he whispered to me, "I'm glad you keep the hope going."
  I glanced up at him and sighed. "I have the Doctors as my allies, right?"
  Donna just that moment to cough. "Doctor, who is this?" she asked.
  I turned to Donna. Right, this version haven't met me yet. I thought of the Donna I met before. Is she okay? "The bug! Have you gotten the bug yet?" I asked her.
  The Doctor and Donna stared at me in surprise. 
  "How do you...? Right, alternate universe..." The Doctor pieced it together. "She is fine. Donna, this is (name) and (name), I'm sure you already know this is Donna." He introduced us.
  "W-what? Alternate universe?" Donna yelled.
  "It's a long story..." The Doctor said.
  I bit my lips and prayed the other Donna is okay too.
  Jack pulled me into a hug next. "It's good to see you too, (name)."
  I smiled at him. "I'm glad you're okay, Jack."
  Jack smiled and winked at me. 
  We are interrupted at the sound of Daleks outside the Tardis. They intercepted the Tardis and took it to some place called the crucible?
  The Doctor said we had no choice but to face the Daleks and urged us to get out of the Tardis. Donna stayed behind and got trapped inside the Tardis and then the Daleks throw the Tardis into some fiery pit much to all of our horror. The Doctor is angry but helpless.
  It was then the Daleks attention diverted toward me. They scanned me and realized I'm not on their record as the Doctor's companion which mean they have no need for me to be there. One of the Daleks are about to shot me but Jack shielded me much to my surprise.
  Rose and I fussed on Jack and realized he is not breathing. 
  I felt grief. He can't die here. How can he warn about the cyberman in the future if he die now? Did I just mess up this universe?
  The Doctor pulled me and Rose away from Jack. He whispered at the distracted me, "He's fine. He can't die."
  I glanced up at him in hope.
  He nodded at me.
  I sighed in relief. I could felt the tingling again and I turned toward the Doctor helplessly. 
  He was staring at me and nodded again, apparently understanding that I am about to go. 
  I was gone before words can be exchanged.
  7777
  I dropped on my knees in some room resembled a prison. I glanced around in confusion.
  "Didn't realize I'm getting a roommate now..."
  I jumped at the voice. "Who is that?"
  A figure moved from the shadow toward the spot that has some light and my jaw dropped in shock when I saw it was the Thirteenth Doctor. She has a longer hair and wearing some hideous uniform.
  I can't believe I didn't recognize her voice. What is the matter with me?
  She glanced at me with nonrecognition which confirmed that she is a new alternate Thirteenth, one that is different from the ones I have met before.
  "Hello, there, I am the Doctor."
  I stared at her before replying, "It's (name)."
  "Aah, it's nice to meet you, (name)." She said with a grin.
  "Where are we?" I interrupted her.
  She glanced at me. "You don't know?"
  "Is this a prison?" I asked.
  "Yes. Stormcage, the most secure prison in the galaxy. Well, almost." She said with a snicker, laughing at a joke only she know.
  "Prison? Why are you in prison?" I asked in confusion.
  She hummed. "I have no idea. The Judoon suddenly come and teleport-ed me here, no warning, so unfair."
  I was confused now. "Do you have a plan of escape?"
  She frowned at me. "You just arrived and already plotting an escape?"
  I frowned back at her. "You didn't?"
  She grinned. "Oh I like you. I do have been plotting. But it seemed ever since River, they have learnt so much." She said with a sigh.
  I frowned again at the mention of the Doctor's wife.
  "But I am still working on it." She said and she started rambling.
  I couldn't help but smiled fondly at her. I missed my Doctor so much. I started coughing again and I quickly turned away from her and pop a pill. 
  She was still busy talking to herself so she didn't notice what I am doing.
  I took a seat on the floor, my back on the wall as I glanced at her. "How long have you been here?"
  "Oh, it's almost six months give or take." She said.
  "Six months?" I asked, concerned. I wanted to ask about the fam but that would require revealing about me and right now, I just didn't want to do that. 
  The Doctor, all alone, in a confined solitary room, of course, she would be talking to herself non-stop and the way she is handling me, it is almost like she think I'm not real. She haven't even ask why I ended up in prison. I am very worried for her state of mind. But she is the Doctor. She probably has gone worst thing than this. I hope she will be okay.
  She mostly ignored me and talked to herself or to the shadow. Sometimes she seemed to talk to hallucination of her past companion as she rattled some names that I do recognize.
  I don't want to leave her alone like this. Perhaps I should tell her about me, give her a mystery to focus on? I only have a few hours with her. I wish I could save her and take her away from this place. I prayed someone rescued her soon.
  My prayer is answered when the door opened and Jack Harkness appeared.
  "Hah! Did you miss me?" He yelled but frowned when he saw two of us. "Doctor?"
  "Captain Jack!" The Doctor yelled and actually hug him. Even Jack is surprised but he hug her back with a wide grin. 
  "Doctor, don't take this the wrong way but you are so small." Jack said.
  The Doctor hit him in the arms. 
  I watched their reunion with a smile.
  "And who is this?" Jack asked me in a flirty manner after they finished with their reunion.
  "Stop it." She said immediately at Jack. Her eyes widened as she turned to look at me. "Ooh, you are real." she said.
  Wow, she really think I'm a hallucination? I smiled and waved at her.
  "I'm (name)." I introduced myself to the both of them.
  "Anyway, I'm here to rescue you, doc. We need to go before they realize I am here." Jack said, ignoring me.
  The Doctor nodded and started asking him about how he gets in and how he know she is in here. She seemed to forget me.
  I have to admit that kind of hurt but I know it is not his fault or the Doctor's.
  I was surprised when the Doctor suddenly turned toward me, raised a hand toward me and asked me if I want to go with her.
  I blinked at her in disbelief but I grabbed her hand as she helped me stand up.
  "Which remind me, why are you in prison?" She asked.
  I smiled fondly at her. "I really miss you." I accidentally blurted.
  She looked surprised and stared at me. "Do I know...you?"
  I smiled solemnly. "In another alternate universe..." I answered, fully aware I'm being vague on purpose.
  She opened her mouth to ask some more but the alarm sounded loudly and Jack is yelling at her to leave now.
  The Doctor turned toward me with question in her eyes.
  I could feel the tingling and stepped back away from her. "Go, Doctor and take care..." I said.
  She stared at me in confusion and her eyes widened as I vanished before her eyes.
  7777
  I landed outside some farmhouse. 
  "(name)?"
  I saw Twelfth Doctor. He was not alone. He was with a robot? I was shocked when the Doctor called the robot Bill. I know Bill and she is not a robot.
  My eyes widened as I recognized the Master, the one I met on Valiant. He was older but it was definitely him. I turned toward the Doctor. "Doctor....?" I was confused about which Twelfth Doctor is he. I have met two version of him after all.
  The Master approached us. "Doctor, while you are chatting with the Robo-mop, me and me...have been busy. We found it." He said. He turned to Bill and changed his voice. "Oh, hello, my dear. My God, you are so boring all those years..." He chuckled cruelly. "But it was worth every day of it for this." He gestured at Bill's appearance.
  "Bill, don't let him upset you." The Doctor said.
  I was pissed. This bastard.
  "Though didn't you used to be a woman? I'm going to be a woman fairly soon, any tips? Or maybe...I dunno old bras?" The Master asked mockingly.
  I was furious now. If the Doctor is not gonna do anything, I will! Without thinking I pulled the stun gun in my bag, the one Rose gave me and I used it to stun the Master. It was satisfying to see him got electrocuted and fell to the ground jerking. I used it on him once more for good measure.
  The Doctor's jaw dropped open in shock at what I have done. "(name)!"
  I snapped at him. "What? You are going to let him speak to Bill like that?" I asked angrily.
  "I'm not upset..." Bill said in a robotic voice. She turned to me. "Thank you."
  "You are welcome." I said.
  The Doctor stared at Bill. He had no idea how to deal with her, how to begin to comfort her. I felt bad for the both of them.
  The Doctor pulled me aside. "What do you think you are doing? The Master is not a forgiving person."
  "Well, it's a good thing that I won't be here for long." I said. "He did that to Bill."
  The Doctor looked ashamed. "I failed her. They turned her into a cyberman."
  I stared at him. So, the robot is a cyberman? I can't help but think of Jack's warning for my Doctor about the lone cyberman.
  "Why do you even have a stun gun?" He asked.
  "Got it from Rose, actually." I said. "I met her on earth when the sky full of planet?"
  He looked nostalgic at the mention of Rose.
  "Last time I almost got shot by a dalek and before that, the Master attacked me. I need protection."
  "That stun gun won't do a thing to a dalek."
  "I know but it worked fine against that jerk." I said.
  The Doctor sighed in resignation. He glanced at me. "I'm sorry, I promise you a cure but..." He sighed again. 
  "It's okay, Doctor. You helped me a lot already. I still have the medicine you gave me." I said.
  He hummed. "I'm glad I could be of help."
  So, he is indeed the first Twelfth Doctor I met, not the other one. I hugged him suddenly. "Thank you."
  He hesitantly hugged back.
  I smiled at him as I released him. 
  "You shouldn't stay here. It is not safe." He said.
  "I know. Doctor, I'm sorry about Bill." I said. I realized the person my Doctor had lost before she met the fam and me must be Bill. My heart saddened for Bill. The short time we met, I know she is a very kind and funny girl. To think she ended up like this....it is so unfair.
  I could felt I'm about to splinter again. "Thank you, Doctor, stay safe." I quickly said.
  7777
  I landed somewhere I have no idea but I spotted the Tardis a few feet away. I heard commotion. Then I noticed Thirteenth Doctor with the fam. They were all on the ground fussing on someone I couldn't see. I discreetly moved around to get a better view but still hid myself.
  I froze when I realized who it was. It was me. An alternate me...? Or was it a future me...? I hid myself behind a nearby rock.
  The other me, she was groaning in pain, the Doctor and the fam are trying to calm her down. She was coughing blood and she was crying. She said she wanted to go home. I froze as her words reminded me of the dark Doctor I met before. She told me I died in her arms, that I kept saying I want to go home. Is that what happening right now? I wondered numbly.
  The other me doesn't seem to register the presence of the Doctor and the fam. She seemed in so much pain as she suddenly started screaming and struggling in the Doctors' arms. My body felt like turning cold at her chilling screams. 
  The Doctor and the fam, they are crying for her, the other me. Then the scream stopped and she stopped moving. Her hand fell limb on the ground. That's when I saw it. The other me, she has scars on her wrist, shaped like...66 or was it 99? 
  I felt sick. I felt like I'm going to throw up. I can't stay here. I wanted to leave. I stand up as I took a step back away from the scene before me. My eyes still glued on them though. I prayed I could leave and for once I did get my wish. But just as I about to disappeared though my eyes locked eyes with the Doctor. Her mouth dropped open in shock as she saw me but I vanished right before her eyes.
  7777
  I landed inside the Tardis but the Tardis is poorly lit. I was at the corridors so I tried to find my way to the console room. Luckily I was not far from it.
  I saw Eleventh Doctor sitting on a comfy chair, wearing glasses and reading book. He looked sad and grumpy, don't know why I get that vibe from him. It seemed like he was alone, no companion in sight. I still felt like I am intruding. I wonder if I should just steer clear of him. Of course, I have to suddenly have a bout of coughing right at that moment. I am hesitating to take my med, wondering if he will even welcome me at his state.
  The Doctor glanced up and his mouth dropped open when he saw me. He dropped the book and quickly stood up, approaching me hesitantly. "It's you..."
  Oh, he recognized me. But, again, which Eleventh Doctor is he? I already met and interact with two version of him before.
  I smiled hesitantly. 
  "You're (name)...." He said. "Rory's imaginary friend..."
  Well, that settle it. He is the one I met with Amy, Rory and River.
  "Is that what I'm known for now?" I asked teasingly. "Speaking of, where is he?"
  The Doctor looked like someone shot his puppy. "The Ponds are gone." He finally said.
  Oh. This is awkward. I don't know how I am supposed to comfort him. So, I only lamely said, "I'm sorry."
  He smiled solemnly. "How are you holding up?" He asked.
  I blinked at him in confusion before I remembered he did witness my breakdown the last time we met. "I'm okay." I said. I turned away from him to take a look at the surrounding. "You redecorated the Tardis. Where are we? Or when are we?" I asked, hoping to distract him.
  "Why don't you see for yourself?" He said as he gesture on the Tardis door.
  I raised an eyebrow at him and walked toward the door. I opened the door and my jaw dropped open in shock. We...the Tardis is up on the cloud. "What...?" I turned to him in awe. "We are up in the cloud."
  He grinned boyishly.
  "Is it safe to walk around out there?" I asked hesitantly.
  In answer, the Doctor moved past me and walked outside around the cloud before turning to me and raised a hand toward me.
  I hesitantly grabbed his hand and jump onto the cloud. I couldn't help but giggle. This is awesome. I walked slowly to the edge of the cloud and saw Victorian London? I quickly get away from the edge.
  The Doctor is staring at the distant with a solemn look which make me worry for him.
  "Are you okay, Doctor?"
  "I'm always okay." He answered immediately. But with that sad look in his eyes, who would believe him?
  I stared at him before petulantly said, "Well, I guess we are both okay then."
  His face falls at that. Ugh, I felt like I just kicked a puppy or something.
  "Doctor, why are we up on the cloud instead of down there?"
  He took a few seconds before replying, "I am taking a break."
  "From the universe?" I asked softly.
  He didn't reply.
  I sighed. His sad mood made me feeling down too. "I just saw myself died." I suddenly said, don't know why I said that. Wouldn't this just make the both of us more down? Am I trying to get him to open up by showing him my own pain? But this is the Doctor, a pro at bottling emotion till it chokes them. The Doctor that I know never exactly open up to me or the fam. I sighed, maybe I need him to listen my woes? Gosh, I'm so selfish.
  He turned to me in surprise and pity.
  I tried to be nonchalant. "Well, it could be an alternate me instead of a future me." I said.
  He glanced down at me but I refused to meet his gaze, choosing instead to stare at the night sky.
  We both jumped in surprise when the Tardis phone suddenly rang.
  The Doctor seemed wanting to ignore the phone but decided to pick it up as he walked back inside. I followed him in but keep my distance.
  "Yes, what? I'm trying to read." Silence. "Always pointless. What did she says? Well? Well?" 
  Whoever on the other side of the conversation seemed to stun the Doctor. He took off his glasses and have a look on his face. He hang up the phone and then turned to me. "Fancy a trip?"
  I raised an eyebrow at him before shrugging. "I suppose."
  He smiled with dare I say a little lively than before, his eyes burning in curiosity. 
  I pondered what that phone call is all about. It seemed to make his mood a little better.
  He glanced down at what I'm wearing. "But, you are going to need change outfit."
  "Oh no. I don't like Victorian dress. Also, I don't want to splinter with a dress like that." I complained.
  "Fair point. Go to the Tardis wardrobe. Get yourself some coat to cover yourself." He said as he gave me the direction to the wardrobe.
  I left him to go to the wardrobe. While there, I coughed up again so I took my med, resigning myself to be stuck with this Doctor. Maybe we could help each other. Maybe.
  7777
  Next thing I know, the Doctor is dressed like Sherlock Holmes and we barged our way into some institute where a mean-looking older man sat in his chamber with a huge tube containing snow. I watched him talk really fast and being actively annoying to that Simeon guy. The Doctor then grabbed me and we left the house after he got the information he need.
  He led me down the street of Victorian London and a horse carriage stopped short in front of us. A potato-looking alien is driving the carriage. I stared at him before turning to the Doctor who introduced me to Strax.
  In the carriage, the Doctor suddenly spoke up after a long silence, "River and I went to investigate the coordinate you gave us."
  I glanced at him. I almost afraid he's going to say the coordinate is useless and the scientist doesn't exist too. 
  "We couldn't find the weapon but we poke around a bit, got some lead and we found out about Project Splinter." He said.
  My eyes widened at that. "Splinter...?"
  "Yes, I remembered when we first met, you are in a hurry because you have no idea when next you will splinter..." He said. "The word 'splinter' does caught our attention. Where did you get that word from?"
  I agonized whether I should tell him about the future dark Doctor that I met but I decided to tell him because he is the smart one out of the two of us. If anyone can make sense anything, it would be him.
  The Doctor look troubled after my Revelation. He theorized that maybe that version of Doctor might know something more about project splinter. But it's not like I can ask her. Also, I kind of not wanting to see that version ever again. She frightened me. Also, maybe I am being a coward about it.
  "What is that, project splinter?" I asked curiously.
  "Basically...time travel."
  "W-what?"
  "The scientists in charge of the project has this...amazing machine and with a few tweak and some calculation, it might have worked." The Doctor said. "But River and I, we shut it down. We couldn't find any weapon though."
  "But...so...it's not a weapon? Against you?"
  "Nothing like that. As far as we knew, they don't even have any idea who I am."
  "So then, the threat just existed on the other alternate universes? With my Doctor?" I asked. My head started hurting with all these information that I can't even quite comprehend. I'm not a screaming genius like the Doctor. "God, I don't understand what is going on." I said with a pitiful groan.
  "It will be fine, (name), we will figure it out eventually." He said. "I will help."
  For a moment, I felt like I would never escape this predicament I am in and I wish to give up again. But hearing him says that and remembering all the other Doctors, I have to force myself to endure it. I have to, right...?
  The carriage suddenly stopped. Strax took us to some house with a frozen pond in it to which the Doctor fussed over it immediately using his sonic screwdriver.
  He started to mumble by himself and I only caught the last few words. "Pond. Good point, Clara." He said.
  My eyes snapped back at him at the mention of Clara. She is here? From what he said, Clara is not his companion just yet.
  Strax distracted the Doctor by offering him a grenade and then they have a funny banter with each other.
  I covered my mouth to stop myself from laughing at them.
  It was then I saw Clara who stood behind the window on the second floor of the house. She was smiling and waving at the Doctor. The Doctor looked awkward as he returned her wave and all.
  "So, that was Clara..." I said.
  "You know her?" The Doctor asked.
  I raised an eyebrow at him.
  "Right, alternate universes." He said. "You are kind of a big spoiler, (name)."
  "Sorry." I said with a wince. He is right though. I really need to be more careful. Even in alternate universes, some things the Doctor experienced seemingly remain the same. What would I do if next I meet a Twelfth Doctor and Bill before she became a cyberman? Would I warn them? I pondered about it and I think I would warn them. I'm not trying to be a hero. I just can't live with myself if I didn't warn them when I know something bad will happen to them. Screw the timelines and the universes! They are the one who play me like a yo-yo first!
  Also technically I'm trying to change the future, my Doctor's possible future and mine. I don't want to die like that. 
  The Doctor called me out to follow him into the house and we are faced with an ice-sculpture of a woman who kept screaming about bad girl and stuff. The Doctor was able to disable the ice woman and get Clara and her kids to safety.
  The Doctor introduced me to Madam Vastra and Jenny as they along with Strax joined us inside the house while outside creepy-looking snowmen appeared from the snow and surrounded the house.
  Of course, at that moment, I felt that again, a sign I was about to go. I looked up toward the Doctor who is busy talking really fast at everyone. I tried to warn him but I was gone before I could open my mouth.
  7777
  I blinked and took a glance around my surrounding. I wasn't on the Tardis.
  "(name)!!" Tenth Doctor called out to me. He grinned at me so happily.
  "Doctor..." Crap, which Tenth Doctor is he? I thought to myself. I took in his appearance. He's wearing his usual suit and trenchcoat but he has a cowboy hat, sunglasses and a flower wreath around his neck.
  "It's good to see you again. Aw, come on here you!" He walked toward me and immediately pulled me into a tight hug.
  I smiled hesitantly. "Doctor, the last time we met is..."
  "In the bazaar with Donna..." He said.
  "Right, Donna, is she okay? I mean, I left her defenseless against that creepy bug..."
  His smile faltered. A sad look crossed over his feature. "She was fine. Don't worry."
  "Then, where is she?"
  "She doesn't travel with me anymore."
  "Ooh. I'm sorry, Doctor. So you are travelling alone right now?"
  "Not anymore. I have you now." He said with a grin but he still looked sad.
  "Doctor, you know I can't stick around."
  "Course you can, just for a few hours like before." 
  I glanced up at him and sighed. I shrugged. "What the hell...I deserve more breaks...." 
  He grinned. "That's the spirits... Come on!"
  I popped a pill before I followed him. "Where are we?"
  The Doctor explained to me in excitement about the planet we are in. He took me sightseeing and I must admit I am having fun with him. 
  As I glanced at him, I got the vibe of unbearable sorrow from him. I couldn't help feeling a great concern for him. He tried too hard to act happy but I could tell he was burdened by something.
  A few hours later, I know I would be leaving him soon. So, I had to ask. "Doctor, are you really okay?"
  He glanced at me and his mask falls apart. "I'm going to die."
  I stared at him speechless.
  "I was told 'he will knock four times'. That was the prophecy. Knock four times, then..." He trailed.
  My heart ached for him. He look almost scared. "But...you will regenerate, won't you?"
  "I can still die." He said. "If I'm killed before regeneration, then I'm dead."
  My mind suddenly flashed to the memory of finding the Thirteenth Doctor's dead body. But that was because the weapon that can disable regeneration. He will regenerate, won't he, into the Eleventh Doctor? Or will this particular universe have different outcome?
  "Even then, even if I change, it would still feel like dying. Everything I am dies. Some new man..." He glanced at me thoughtfully. "...or woman goes sauntering away..." He said with a forlorn look. "And I'm dead."
  I had no idea what to say to that. How am I meant to comfort him? "Doctor..."
  He sniffed and then turned away. "Sorry, I'm being a downer right now..."
  I grabbed his arm. "Doctor." I had no idea what to say. "It's okay to be afraid..." I finally said. "I'm scared too. I just saw my future. I saw myself died in pain...in her arms. And I'm scared." Oh, hell, what am I saying to him? Why am I being a downer too? I should try to comfort him instead of burdening him with my trouble. But as I said those words, I realized I am terrified of dying, especially since it look like it was really painful.
  "(name)..."
  I closed my eyes, feeling annoyed with myself. "I'm sorry, I'm no good at this. I want to make you feel better." I opened my eyes and stared at him. God, why can't I think of something really good to say to him? I felt like I want to cry in frustration. I wanted to comfort him so badly.
  The Doctor smiled at me and said, "It's okay, (name), you don't have to say anything..." He put one hand over mine, rubbing my palm.
  Without thinking, I pulled him to me and I hugged him tight.
  He wrapped his arms around, returning the embrace.
  We released each other with soft smile toward each other.
   "We will be okay..." I finally said. I wish I have enough conviction with my words. But at that moment, that is the only thing I can say. 
  He didn't reply. He sniffed again. "Okay, enough of that, tell me what's been happening to you?"
  I stared at him, unsure if talking about me is a good distraction. Eventually, I told him about my last visit to the Eleventh Doctor. To his credit, he didn't flinch at the mention of his direct alternate regeneration. But he was surprised when I mention about River.
  "River? River Song?"
  "Yeah." I confirmed before I groaned. "Damn, did I just spoiler you too somehow?"
  "No...it was fine..." He trailed. He has a faraway look again in his eyes. "So, what's that? Project Splinter, is it?"
  I nodded.
  "I'm going to check it out on my ends too." He said.
  "Doctor..." I could felt the tingling again. I was reluctant to leave this version of the Doctor. "Don't be alone, Doctor. Please find someone." I said. "Take care of yourself."
  "(name)..." He realized that I was about to leave. He looked sad. "You too..."
   tags: @thatsonezesty13, @gracie-and-the-superwholock-gang
  A/N2: Oh this is a right mess-up, isn't it? I don't know if this is good. I mean I suppose I have some fun writing it but I agonized over whether this will be good enough at least. Gosh, I honestly couldn't understand what I am writing right now. Project splinter is something I borrowed a fusion from my favorite show 12 monkeys but not a direct crossover. Jennifer Goines is my favorite character in that show, she was awesome. I was hoping to write a primary!reader being the Doctor's ward someday. Maybe never. I'm kinda fried. I don't know if I could write for part four or any other story again. I wish to be productive but I'm sad now.
If you like this story, feedback will be very appreciated, thanks.
Once again, thank you to those who read all or some of my stories and has leave like/comment/reblog. You are all awesome. You made my days bearable. 
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fae-redux · 4 years ago
Text
rules of the game: ch. 5 - my kind’s your kind
Story Summary: 
The Evergreen and Imagi were never quite in peacetime. Roman’s just trying to figure out how to survive and succeed his mother. Logan wants to live long enough to use his magic however he wants. Patton is coasting while repressing everything, still trying to figure out what feelings are. 
Virgil doesn’t want to change the world. 
Luckily, it isn’t up to him.
first | ao3 | prev
Chapter Summary: Dee and Virgil are both of the Evergreen. They don’t already know this.
Word count: 2658
Pairings: future lamp, platonic anxceit
~|~
When he finds Dee sitting innocently at his dining table with nothing but a cup of tea and a saucer in front of him, Virgil knows he knows. 
“Did you know,” Dee starts, not looking up from his tea (Virgil can feel his barely contained glee from where he stands), “that Queen Valerie received quite the surprise this morning?”
He’s smirking like Virgil should already know. “No,” he attempts to shrug casually because it’s not technically a lie, “What surprise?”
“The queen certainly did not acquire a child,” His eyes light up, “And she really didn't get the twin fae child of the one you just cursed, no, she did not.” He laughs and practically spins out of his seat to get a good look at Virgil, effectively cutting off his path to his room. “Why didn’t you invite me on your hunt? We wouldn’t have had any fun together! There’s always something as good as some classic bonding, cursing unsuspecting humans, stealing children, you know!”
Virgil exhales a long breath through his nose, trying to move around the fae. “You are way too excited about this.”
“Well, it’s only what I haven’t wanted for years,” Dee tilts his head forward facetiously, an arm blocking his exit again, “Horrible of you to give me an early birthday present.”
Virgil gives up trying to get to his room and takes the seat Dee vacated, but then his brain catches up with what Dee just said. “Wait, I didn’t curse the kid, I cursed the queen.”
“According to the Seelie that just came from the outskirts, you definitely did not get the kid, and your magic is super stable,” Dee shrugs, moving his cup to the sink, practically fluttering his hands in joy. “The kid’s a bad mark, and if he grows up anything like his mother, you’ll be sorry you did it.”
Virgil looks at Dee, who is still grinning, genuinely ecstatic for the first time since Virgil’s met him, and thinks, maybe this isn’t the worst thing. If the queen does raise the child herself, he doesn’t have that much hope for the kid, and with King Cromwell under her thumb, it’s unlikely the kid will know what life outside the citadel looks like.
“I can see it now,” He says. The deal is composed of a thick cord that holds strong. Even tugging on it now, he feels the prince, crying alone in a nursery, and can’t believe he didn’t feel it before, “I should probably break it.” 
“Sure, if you don’t want the death of a child on your hands. Magic doesn’t come with backlash.” Dee raises an eyebrow, and he hastily takes his hand back from the rope. “Besides there have been plenty of instinctive magic curses in fae history. It’s not like we don’t have the theory to even begin going about breaking it without killing you or the kid.”
He shakes his head and resolves to ignore the thing.
Dee is happy. It’s a shame, Virgil thinks. If what Virgil can recall about what he said is right, the young prince has twenty years to live, and nothing he does will affect the curse or change its course. It’s all up to Adelaide. 
He doesn’t dwell on the seed of guilt that starts to grow in his stomach. 
He doesn’t.
~|~
As much as he likes to focus on his misfortune, Virgil knows that when he can’t fix all his problems, it’s best to start with the ones he can handle. 
The thing is, Dee’s right. His magic is unstable in that he doesn’t know what he already did with it or how to use it, and if he can’t learn to put some sort of a leash on it, he’ll be reliant on Dee forever, which isn’t ideal. 
On the bright side, Dee seems delighted by the turn of events that is Virgil asking for magic lessons. They’ve started to learn to live with each other in the past couple weeks, Dee accommodating Virgil and teaching him how to do things around the estate, and Virgil carefully staying out of the way of Dee’s clients. This really is an extension of their preexisting lessons.
Dee starts them off by trying to figure out what sort of fae Virgil is. It would be going better if the only things he could talk about weren’t the way the plants lead him to Dee’s hide-away home in the Evergreen and the whole “curse” incident. 
“How did you get away from a full ballroom of knights and iron? The queen wouldn’t have been extra careful with the presence of a child,”  Dee has about seven books open trying to figure out what Virgil’s fae history is made of. 
He shrugs, letting his shoulders slump in a little more, taking another bite of his food and ducking behind his bowl a little as Dee tosses another book to the side. “I heard the sound of breaking glass behind me? It sounded like your illusion breaking that first night we met, so I assume it was some kind of illusion magic. I just remember thinking I didn’t want them to see me leave. Illusions and plant-based magic are two very different things, though, so I don’t really understand how I would have both.”
Dee snorts, putting his own bowl down. “Even for a novice, you’ve got a horrible understanding of magic.” He brushes through his history of plant fae grimoire while frequently glancing from Virgil to the book. He turns the book so Virgil can see, “Match?”
Virgil looks at the portrait in the book of a fae with a wide face and a stubby nose and shakes his head. “I read a lot in the castle so I know a lot about magic. My mother’s collection told me about fae magic, but Adelaide’s collections taught me other kinds of magic. I moved most of her spellbooks and grimoires to my room, so even if the queen decides to go book burning, those would probably be safe. She probably doesn’t remember that I used to live in the west tower.”
The ache that comes with thinking about his old home isn’t new but he almost wishes the bittersweet feeling would go away. The castle always used to have the best view of the sunset and the most wonderful view of the full moon in the sky. Jam tarts were always a bonus too, especially when they got the ones with the special red jam. Those were things that made it really feel like home.
Dee turns the book around again. “This one?” 
Virgil stops thinking about the castle. 
The portrait shows an eager lady with sharp ears and elongated incisors and long silver blonde hair, about to pounce off the page. Her grin looks the same as his mother’s did before she hatched a plan to get them both in trouble. The manor staff used to hate that smile. 
“That one,” he swallows down and clenches his fists to hold back the tremors he feels coming on, but it just sends sharp stings of pain through his palms. No one had told him about being part fae. No one even suggested it before Dee. If the queen knew, she surely wouldn’t have allowed Romulus to take him in. “Well, we know why about the plants now, though I’m not really sure how diluted my ancestry is,” He fiddles with the sleeves of his hoodie, and the hollow feeling in his chest persists. Enough fae blood to be fully realized by a deal gone awry, but not enough to affect him for the first 17 years of his human lived life. 
Dee waves a hand and begins to put books away. “The real problem is that we know exactly why you have illusion powers like me,” The muttering increases as Virgil just sits at the table, head leaning against his palm watching as Dee pulls random books out at will, only to look through two or three pages and return them to the shelf. “Your existence as a fae makes complete sense.”
Today has already been too much, but at the very least they have a hint. “Thanks,” he replies dryly. “It’s not as though anyone told me there was a fae in my family tree somewhere. I would go back and look for the documentation if it didn’t mean getting captured and tortured for eternity for daring Adelaide.”
The scowl on Dee’s face makes him use an arm to cover the lower half of his face and stifle his snicker. 
“Yes, you could go back, and all my hard work, gone, just like that?” The sarcasm is evident in his voice, as he shoots his judgmental gaze towards Virgil, “Stunning idea.”
“Nah, I think you like me too much to let me do that anyways,” Virgil openly smiles at the fae as he huffs and returns his attention to the shelves. “You do.”
“If the universe had not given you to me as a gift,” The light from the window glances off his yellow scales, making them glow, “You wouldn’t be dead right now. You would do well not to remember that.”
“Yeah,” Virgil rounds the table and plucks Dee’s bowl from where it sits, heading to the sink, “You like me.”
He doesn’t interrupt him, lets the grumbles fill the air, the only noises Dee can make without outright lying or telling the truth in the way he does.
Dee is a lot easier to understand than whatever the queen had going on, and they got on fairly well. Virgil doesn’t think it would be the worst thing to stick around for a while. 
~|~
Watching Dee set up his tools for their first illusions lessons shouldn’t be as funny as it is. He left early that morning after breakfast with a cementing potion, tubes of sticking potion, and a basket of things he hadn’t let Virgil peak at.
When he’s finally allowed outside, he sees the monstrosities that Dee made in all their glory. There are trinkets of every sort pulled together from various places in the house that appear to be fashioned together into odd amalgamations. One is made up completely of porcelain doll legs in the shape of a duck and another is made up of small duck statues that have been organized into the shape of a person.
Ridiculous sculptures aside, Dee’s efforts come with a long lecture that Virgil only manages to absorb parts of. 
“These won’t do for now, but the basis of this is you needn’t be able to maintain the same image in your head as the one you want to project as an illusion. It’s not like making the image in your head and turning it out of your brain to appear in the real world. Make sense?” Dee is looking very intently at the ducks while Julep watches amused from the sidelines.
Virgil frowns. “Is the correct answer yes?” He stares at the sculptures as if they will help him figure it out. “Because no.”
Sighing, Dee points at one of the ruinous creations, “When you look at that, what are you thinking about?” 
“I’m thinking about how weird it is that you own enough dolls to make a large duck out of their legs and how fucking weird you are for doing this. Why, what’s the point?”
He looks like he’s going to facepalm in a very undignified way for a moment. “Can you think of anything else besides the thing you’re looking at?”
Blinking at the creation, he thinks for a moment. How could anyone who had that in front of them not think about it? Then it hits him. That’s why he made these insane things. “You’re trying to improve my concentration on what I want the actual illusion to be.”
“You mustn't hold your concentration, or this won’t work. Try to focus on the statues, not an open field with flowers. Anything not like that.”
From where he sits with his eyes closed, he can feel the grass pulling up between his fingers and in the breeze. Imagining an empty field, he tries to picture what he thought of being in front of him. After a full minute of intense focus, he peeks one eye open, and Dee just waits, not saying anything. Nothing happened.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing,” He huffs, frustrated. He picks the dirt and grass out from under his nails, a wrinkle in his brow. “Turn the image, what does that even mean?”
“Don’t picture it in your head first,” Dee sits next to him and puts down the dangling chicken bone mobile he created. His back is straight and he rests his palms facing up on his knees. “Don’t take a deep breath, and forget to concentrate.” He moves his hands to the ground in front of him, “Now, don’t shift the image, like it's on a wheel from your mind, in front of your eyes.” 
Virgil watches as between blinks, the things vanish from sight. He raises a hand to tap the illusion, then hesitates and looks to Dee for permission. 
“Please don’t touch, it’s just so fragile,” Dee smirks and examines his nails. 
The tap sounds exactly like tapping a glass of water or on a window. A bright sound rings out, but the illusion doesn’t break. More confident now, Virgil knocks on the glass, and the prairie scene stays playing in front of him. 
“Honey, you’re gonna have to try softer than that to break it,” Dee picks up the shovel he brought with him to build his structures. “Watch and don’t learn a thing!” The fae laughs as he swings it full force at the illusion, spinning with the momentum of the turn. 
The sound of breaking glass echoes through the field with his laughter, and Virgil can’t help his flinch, looking away so his eyes don't get hit with any of the glass. Nothing that comes his way feels like it hits him. In fact, the bits that do appear to hit him just vanish on impact. Curious, he runs his fingers along the edge of a piece that landed near him and startles as it melts into nothing the second he would have made contact with it. 
Behind the illusion, a single duck falls off its structure from the hit of the shovel, but otherwise, the creations are unharmed by Dee’s magic. 
“Illusions are weak until they are broken. You won’t learn in your own time,” Dee looks disappointed at the duck that fell off and tucks it in his pocket, though what for Virgil doesn’t know. “Not your turn!”
Virgil looks at the spot Dee had put his hand down and takes a deep breath, just like Dee told him. It’s hard not thinking about the statues in the yard, but he manages to make some sort of image in his head of an empty field. The wheel behind his eyes pulls the image over the image of the current field.
The turn feels strange but there’s something there. It leaks into his arms as he tries to put the image in front of him, and it feels like water running over his arms, uncomfortably smooth. He blinks his eyes open, and he’s completely dry, but he’s looking at an empty field. Well, a version of an empty field, anyways.
Dee clicks his tongue happily. The illusion is clearly the wrong time of day, the black of a night sky curling at the edges with sunlight, and as Dee flicks it with two fingers, it shatters. “For a first try, terrible.” It’s silly, but Dee grins just like Thomas would when he scored well on his chemistry assessments. “Now don’t do it again.”
Virgil puts his hands to the ground more confidently. He can do this however many times it takes to get it right.
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