#changes can upset or unsettle me even if it’s something small

[pixies--dust]

I wonder if i would be more interested in hormones if i wasn’t autistic…

[spitdrunken]

HIAHA I LOVE HOW YOU WRITE MR SCARLETELLA CAN YOU WRITE MORE. so odd and unsettling and obscene m just giggling with delight

HIIII thank you so much for the high praise <3 this has kind of a different vibe from the last one but plays with similar-esque concepts!!!! this is 'weird and obscene' LMAO

Notes: Suggestive, mild body horror, bolded = dialogue in the Other World's language.

==========================

How do you touch a man without a physical form? Or, you suppose, 'man' isn't quite the correct term. 'Apparition' would perhaps best describe him. Though he can reach out to you and make you feel the illusion of touch, you can't actually make contact with him. Your hand passes through him as if he were nothing but air.

You don't think he minds. It's always a bit hard to tell, with him. Mr. Scarletella ususally just stares you down with a dead look, communication relatively limited. But you would like to touch him! So you experiment a little, an action for which no mutually intelligible word exists. Still, he doesn't move as you poke and prod at different parts of his body, coming up short every single time.

You crouch down before poking at his ankle, just in case. When you look up, your heart stops for just a moment. Mr. Scarletella's neck is snapped back, folded in on itself in order to observe you. Vacant-seeming eyes are trained on your every movement. The sight makes you feel squeamish. "God... Not do," you tell him. "Head look hurt. Not funny." There's no other way you can think of to put it. You get up and stick your hand down, waving your hand in the other direction at the side of his head. He seems to understands what you mean, as his skull snaps back in its usual direction. You circle around him. "Sorry. Not want upset you." He says, although you know he'll never really listen or learn, not when it comes to these things. "Me like you. You like me." As if you'd ever forget. You beckon him. Rather than simply leaning down, his form flickers, distorting, before reappearing in the desired position. There's just one place you haven't touched yet. Once again, you extend your hand, the tips of your fingers brushing against the top of his umbrella. The surface is smooth to the touch and wets your skin, accompanied by a small burst of static ringing in your ears. It takes a moment for the significance to register. "Oh! I can touch your umbrella!" You say, forgetting the Other World's language in excitement over your discovery. Even though it's relatively small. You can't touch Mr. Scarletella himself, but the umbrella appears to be 'realer' than the rest of him. ...Actually, maybe the umbrella is a part of his body? He's not human, after all. He doesn't have to exist according to your logic. Your brow furrows. The puzzle pieces of language move in your mind, until they're slotted together semi-coherently. You point at his arm. "Arm you." Then, you do the same for his leg. "Leg you." You wave your arm up and down. "Body you." Finally, you lift your hand in the direction of the umbrella. "Object you? Me can touch object. Touch you?" Mr. Scarletella's smile widens. It reveals a little bit of the void that stretches on behind his lips. "I see. Correct. Object me. Object is..." After which he lowers his umbrella and says a word you haven't heard before. You try to repeat it, and he says it once again, pointing the umbrella in your direction. "Touch umbrella. I want."

It's definitely... Weird. It's genuinely like touching an umbrella. Cold and smooth and slightly wet. But Mr. Scarletella wanted you to do it, and you're kind of intrigued yourself, so you do it. Because there's clearly something happening. As you trace your fingers over the outer canopy, making sure to at least touch every panel a little bit, his visible form starts to flicker and fade. When you apply a bit more pressure, move a little faster, parts of him start to distort and change colour. His arm appears a little dislodged from his shoulder, static rising in the background.

When you pinch one of the metal tips in between your fingers and rub it, he lets out a laugh that is far more high-pitched than you would've expected it to sound like. Clearly, there's some kind of link between the umbrella and the rest of himself. Though you can't envision what it must be like, he's feeling something. Your hand pauses. In the blink of an eye, Mr. Scarletella has materialised even closer to you, nose close enough to touch yours, if it could. The inky darkness of his pupils makes up most of what you can see.

"Me like. Like like like like." He sounds breathy despite not breathing. "Touch more. Again. Me want you."

[oswildin]

Mischief’s Daughter (Loki x Fem!Reader)

Summary: It’s Loki’s first time looking after your daughter alone.

Rating: All ages/SFW

A/N: Self-indulgent as hell. I’ve reached the age where the thought of Loki with a baby makes me all fuzzy and warm inside. A rare fem-specific reader from me. Pure fluff.

LOKI MASTERLIST

“Are you sure you can handle this?”

“Am I sure?”

“Yeah-“

“Am I sure I can handle watching our child for a few hours?”

Loki raised a brow, blinking at you as you sighed, putting a hand on your hip, holding his gaze.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” You said lowly, lips quirking faintly upwards. Loki rolled his eyes slightly, casually moving to lean a hip against the kitchen counter, folding his arms over his chest.

“Darling, please, I am a God.” He smirked, that smug one he does when he allows some of his arrogance to surface. “I am very much capable of looking after our daughter whilst you go and ‘let your hair down’.” He paused, his ocean eyes flickering over your features. “Natasha is correct, you deserve to unwind a little.” He told you sincerely, knowing how hectic everything had been since the arrival of your daughter over six months ago.

“But what if something happens and I’m not here-“ You tried, brows furrowing in worry.

“I’m a God, remember?” Loki cut you off, raising a brow, shrugging. “Besides, what could possibly go wrong?”

Famous last words it seemed.

Freya had been crying for the last twenty minutes. Nothing seemed to be working. Not even a touch of illusionary magic was doing the trick. It seemed to work for the tiniest of moments, Loki letting out a breath of relief, before suddenly the wailing continued as if she was now offended by his attempt to quell her upset.

Yes, this was the first time Loki had been left alone with Freya - if you couldn’t already tell.

Children of his own was never something Loki had ever considered, but when you came along and time went on… Well, having a child seemed less like a nuisance and more like an adventure. Being on Midgard for the last five years had changed Loki. Sure, he was still very much the God of Mischief, but now, he had an air of maturity about him. Being apart of the Avengers, having somewhere he belonged… Friends… You… Of course, if you had told him this would be his situation years ago, he would’ve laughed and called you ‘absurd’. Yet, here he was.

The God of Mischief… Defeated by a baby.

“Can we not discuss this like adults?” Loki asked rhetorically, a sardonic wry edge to his voice as he bounced Freya gently in his arms, one of his large hands supporting her back. His brows were furrowed, lips parted slightly as he looked at his daughter who was insisting on wailing still. “I mean, really, I think you’re making some… excellent points-“

Another wail.

“Yes, I agree.” His hand at her back patted her lightly as he let out a deep sigh. Freya’s tiny hand found its way to his curls tucked behind his ear as she grasped it, pulling in her little rage. “Ow! No- No, we do not- There is no need for violence.” He moved towards the couch, feeling a headache begin to form. He began to feel slightly self-conscious, worried he was doing something wrong.

He’d read all the baby books possible before she was born, but it seemed even they didn’t have an answer for everything. He’d tried feeding her, rocking her, putting her down for a nap, illusions, change of nappy— Everything that could’ve been the issue. He sat on the couch, shifting Freya so she could sit on his lap, his hands still supporting her, one staying at her back whilst the other held under her small arm. He looked down at his daughter, seeing her blue eyes all glassy, cheeks red and puffy from crying. It was a sight he would’ve once found extremely… well, snotty. But with Freya, his flesh and blood, it only unsettled him, tugged at his heart.

“You certainly are your father’s daughter.” Loki mumbled to himself. “Throwing a fit of rage for reasons no one else seems to understand.” He tilted his head slightly. “Perhaps someone misses their mother, hm?” At that, Freya went silent for a moment, as if she understood. Loki raised a brow, holding his daughter’s gaze. “Oh… Is that it?” He slowly began to realise that he was likely correct. It was the first time she had been without you since she was born, and whilst people underestimated babies capabilities to understand their surroundings, he knew better.

“Well, I’m here.” Loki said lightly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “And I may even be considered more fun than mum.”

Another wail.

Loki winced at the sound, his smile dropping from his face. She didn’t like that notion it seemed. He glanced at the clock, it had only been an hour since you’d left - although it felt like several.

“Right.” Loki muttered under his breath, before getting up from the couch, once again holding Freya to his chest. “Let’s try something different, shall we?” His hand shifted to cradle the back of her head gently, once more bouncing her softly in a soothing motion. Clearing his throat quietly, he let out a breath before opening his mouth as a low, comforting melody fell from his lips.

“I stormsvarte fjell, jeg vandrer alene,

Over isbreen tar jeg meg frem,

I eplehagen står møyen den vene,

Og synger: “når kommer du hjem?”

The last note rang out softly as Freya’s cries had ebbed, giving way to a few sniffles. Loki held his breath, waiting to see if the old song had managed to quell his daughter’s cries fully. After a few seconds of no wailing, he let out a relieved breath, feeling a warmth in his chest at the fact he had managed to comfort his daughter. After a few tries, but still. That was being a parent.

“So, it seems someone prefers my singing to my show of powers.” He mused playfully, keeping his tone soft and quiet, scared if he spoke too loud he would send Freya into another episode of tears. “You take after your mother on that one.” He smiled slightly, tilting his head to meet his daughter’s eyes. “Although, sometimes I think she prefers it when I’m completely silent.” His smile widened, seeing how Freya was now giving him her full attention. “Can’t say I blame her.” He whispered teasingly, moving to grab a nearby cloth to wipe away the remnants of tears - and snot - from Freya’s adorable little face. “There. Much better. Can’t have my princess looking like her uncle now, can we? All snotty and bubbling.” He smirked, placing the dirty cloth aside as he began to move back towards the couch. “Not very becoming of her highness.”

Freya made a soft gurgle, making Loki laugh quietly, sitting back against the couch as he kept Freya in his arms, resting against his chest so he could look at her. She was the perfect blend of both of you. His eyes, with raven tuffs of hair, your nose and mouth… She truly was a marvel. “Why don’t I tell you about the time I turned your uncle into a frog?”

—

Letting out a breath, you entered the home you shared with Loki, kicking off your shoes as you paused, listening for any sounds. Silence. Your brows furrowed, glancing at the clock on the wall in the hallway. It was around the time Freya would wake in the night and decide it was time for everyone to be awake with her… Yet, no noise. Creeping down the hall, you approached the doorway of the lounge, peering inside. There you saw it. A sight that melted your heart. Loki had his eyes closed, Freya sleeping on his chest, his hand supporting her head whilst the other held her back. The house hadn’t burnt down, there was no mess, no illusions of frogs or god knows what running about the place… Just… peace.

You felt tears well in your eyes as you leaned against the doorframe, heart feeling like it could burst out your chest. After a few seconds, Loki slowly opened an eye, instantly finding you. His brows furrowed faintly, the glow of the lamp reflected in your glassy gaze as he opened his other eye. It took a moment, but then he recognised that look.

“You had a few glasses of wine, didn’t you?” He asked playfully, voice barely above a whisper. You sniffled, straightening.

“No…” You mumbled, tone completely giving you away.

“Hm.” Loki smirked, before carefully lifting his hand from Freya’s head to not disturb her, reaching out towards you. You immediately headed towards him, taking his offered hand as his slender fingers grasped yours. “Your teary eyes tell me otherwise.” He teased softly. “You get emotional every time you have a glass or two.”

“How can I not-“ You drawled quietly, lips pouting faintly. “-when I come back to this?” You gestured loosely towards Freya, referring to the sight that was before you of the two people you loved most in the universe. “And nothing is on fire.” Loki had to hold back a chuckle at that, his lips quirking upwards.

“See? I told you I could handle it.” Loki mused, a hint of his typical smugness entering his voice as he gazed up at you. Besides, you didn’t need to know about the first hour… In the end, it all worked out perfectly and he felt a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment because of it. “Although, she is most definitely my daughter.” He added in a wry murmur, glancing back down at the bundle of sleeping joy on his chest. Your eyes followed his, your features softening even further - if that was possible. After a moment of silence, you spoke again.

“She wailed a lot didn’t she?”

“How did you-“

“Because you also wail a lot-“

“I beg your pardon? I do not ‘wail’, I… express my frustration eloquently like an adult.”

“Uh huh.”

[veryberryjelly]

gone to shit

pairing : jake peralta x fem!reader

prompt : "can i have one more hug?" "aw, babe you don't have to ask, c'mere..."

𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

your day had been going too well for it to continue.

you had gotten to your local coffee shop before it got too busy, gotten up to the bullpen without getting catcalled by some jackass outside and you and your boyfriend were the only ones in the office which was nice.

it was quiet and the first 30 minutes your day was spent sat opposite jake just talking until your friends and colleagues filtered in through the elevator.

and then everything came crashing down.

multiple people in the holding cell caused the bullpen to be filled with noise which was unsettling.

the coffee you had gotten this morning spilled over your desk and your lap.

your phone had died half way through a conversation with your sister and you knew she wouldn't appreciate it seeming like you hung up on her.

and you had misfiled some evidence and had to talk to holt to fix it.

you hoped he would be in a good mood so this wouldn't end up with you getting reamed out.

unfortunately that was not the case.

while he didnt yell you could sense the annoyance & slight disappointment in his tone as he told you do leave so he could deal with it.

and you did leave.

but instead of heading back to your desk you went to the evidence lock up, heading towards the back corner and sinking down onto the floor, the cool surface bringing you out of your head very slightly.

but it wasnt enough to stop the hot burning tears from falling from your eyes.

this wasnt something you should be getting so upset about, there were people in the world that had it a lot worse than you and here you were crying over the tiniest things.

just because they had happened in quick succession it felt so overwhelming.

you were way too in your own head to notice your name being called quietly into the room.

it was only when you saw a set of shoes infront of you that your attention was pulled from the spiralling thoughts in your head.

your hands instantly lifted to wipe at your cheeks to try and pass it off like you weren't crying.

" woah woah, hey. what's wrong, babe? "

the sound of jake's voice did not relax you as much as usual.

you shook your head, trying to shake off this awful tightness in your chest but that did nothing to calm jake's worry.

he crouched down beside you momentarily before sitting down next to you, knowing that his gaze on you could overwhelm you even further.

his arm dropped to around your shoulders and your head instantly dropped down onto the soft fabric of his hoodie.

" you wanna tell me why you're hiding in the evidence lock up ?" he asked, his fingertips running over the fabric of your shirt.

" everything was just going so well this morning and then i spilled my coffee, the holding cell is so full of jackasses, my phone died and then i misfiled some evidence... it all just went to shit "

his small motions on your shoulder were calming you slightly but not by much, your shoulders were still shaking and you couldnt bring yourself to take a full breath.

jake didn't reply for a few moments but his fingertips kept tracing shapes over your shoulder.

" ok, well these are all easy fixes. rosa has a charger in her desk she'll let you use, the holding cell is thinning out really quickly and you left a spare pair of jeans at my apartment a couple days ago and i brought them to give back to you, so you can change into those. "

how he managed to solve all of your problems so quickly you'll never know, but you were just so grateful.

you turned your body further into his, smiling softly when he wrapped his arm tighter around you and pressed a short kiss onto the top of your head.

" thank you "

" you're welcome, babe " he said quietly.

both of you remained sat on the floor of the evidence lock up for a couple more minutes before jake moved to stand and lead both of you back to the bullpen.

before he could take you outside you pulled him back by his hand, a soft and playful pout resting on your lips.

"can i have one more hug?" you asked, tilting your head back to look up at him.

a grin spread across his face.

"aw, babe you don't have to ask, c'mere..."

you quickly closed the two feet between the two of you and wrapped your arms around his torso, your head buried against his chest.

another 5 minutes were spent surrounded by weapons in boxes just hugging your boyfriend.

but when you returned to the bullpen, everything seemed a little bit better

[sadly-in-active]

Sorry I didn't see any of your older posts, but what's SilentIvory?

Oh wait I just looked and I realized what it was nvm

But can I get a Silent Salt + Longan Dragon x fragile reader? Could be hcs or a one shot if you like

SilentIvory x Fragile Reader: Cuddle Time!

(Yes this is a ship between Longan and Silent Salt + the reader. Don’t come at me I just really like these two.)

Summary: You, as a fragile and sweet Cookie can’t help but be…cherished? Yes, that would be the word. Cherished by your Dragon and Beast Cookie lovers. It isn’t really that bad, the three of you getting all cozy together. You just have to ignore the fact that they’re both murderers and Longan actually ate Cookies-

TW: Bickering. Old marriage kind shit. Beast x Dragon, and all this is my personal headcanons turned into lil oneshot

The evening was…surprisingly peaceful. Usually there’d be some mumbling and bickering coming from your two partners, Silent Salt and Longan. Despite living with them for quite a while, they always treated you as a child. It was probably because you’ve been known to be frail for your whole life. They treated you like a glass swan, basically. You loved them both, of course…but there were times where you knew you could handle a task and they’d baby you.

You quietly stepped over to the bedroom, where you overheard a little whisper. Longan, you thought, was the one speaking. You knew their voice was that soothing yet intimidating voice, while Silent Salt’s voice was more…quiet, perhaps raspy in a way.

“We should rest. There is no use in arguing.”

“…self-absorbed…nightmare fuel.” Silent Salt had grumbled back, and a scoff came from the dragon.

You noticed that Silent Salt turned their head towards you, seeing you in the doorway and calmly walking over to look at you. Their helmet was off, you noticed. Scars were littered across their face, and their blind eyes softened despite not truly seeing you. After all, their helmet was enchanted, letting the knight see whatever came their way and more. Vulnerable was an understatement when it came to your quiet partner, so you were lucky that they trusted you and Longan enough for them to take away something as precious as sight.

“Ah, our apologies, y/n. Just some bickering, nothing that would concern you.” The dragon murmured, walking over to you and pressing a kiss to your forehead before picking you up and taking you to bed. The Ivory Dragon could see your small frown and frustrated look, and they raised a brow in confusion.

“You’re upset. Why is that?” While the dragon was quite the intellectual, they certainly couldn’t process the fact that you were upset about something. It unsettled them, in a way. After all, they were the all-knowing and all-seeing Longan Dragon themself. It frustrates them when something happened without their knowledge of it.

“I just wish that you would both stop treating me as if I’m a child. You know that’s not what I am. I know of the things you’ve done, the cookies you’ve harmed and plan to harm….and I can’t help but feel left out. I wouldn’t mind hearing the two of you bickering. It makes me smile. I’ve had a few petty comments about you myself.”

“…” Silent Salt’s ears practically perked up, and they started to walk over to you and Longan, before reaching out for your face. You allowed them to with a soft smile. The knight could practically feel your smile brightening them up, and they smiled back.

“…you’re right, I suppose. Come…time to rest…” murmured the Beast in their raspy tone, eagerly grabbing onto both yours and Longan’s hand and dragging the two of you to bed. Of course, Silent Salt had already gotten used to almost all the rooms within the Lustrous Longan Palace. There was no need to doubt that.

—

As the three of you settled into bed, Silent Salt taking off the last of their armor and changing into more comfortable attire, they walked back to the lavish bed, wrapping their arms around you tightly and pressing little, yet ticklish pecks to your shoulders and cheek. Longan stared at the two of you and couldn’t help but let out a content sigh, before wrapping their much more larger arms around Silent Salt and you, effectively and effortlessly spooning you both.

“You two are like little mice compared to me. It’s amusing, is it not?”

“And what are you, a snake?”

“…don’t compare me to a lowly serpent.”

“But you were practically asking for that.”

“…shush. Rest so we can…argue about it tomorrow.”

[lightlycareless]

I’d love to know how Naoya would handle sleepless nights with a crying baby. I can imagine he’d naturally get frustrated if it’s been ongoing for a while and the frustration would most likely manifest in how he handles his feelings of helplessness in his ability to soothe his baby. Idk, Naoya trying really hard to take care of his baby but struggling is just so cute to me.

Hello anon! agjhajkhajkgaggaha aaaa thank you so much for sending in this ask!!! It was the perfect excuse to develop something I think Naoya would feel/develop when having a family with you :>

I won't say much, just let you read the whole thing hehe.

anyways, here are the warnings: none. a bit of fluff. naoya is a frustrated, insecure father. but he's a good man now so. (also we're back with baby Naomi ❤️❤️)

happy reading!

Naoya is frustrated.

And not just with the baby crying or being woken up by it—but with everything.

He knew that having a child was not going to be an easy feat, no one told him it would be, even expecting this to become the most difficult endeavor of his life, even bigger than what his career as a sorcerer entailed.

Yet, no amount of research, advice, even classes could’ve prepared him for the real deal.

Naoya considered himself very lucky to have a wife and mother as loving and attentive as you to support him in this new stage of his life, but even when you were willing to stay home and take care of Naomi while he went out to work, he still wanted to be there, spend time with you, the baby, feed her, change her, take her out for walks, spoil her—be the father he never had.

But life wasn’t to be that giving to him, and he’d soon face the consequences of his extended absence, the main reason of his current frustration: starting from Naomi’s occasional unfamiliarity towards him, to his inexperience dealing with her sleepless night.

He could’ve let you handle it, let you get up from the futon as he continued sleeping, but he’d seen it in your eyes—the exhaustion, the continuous commitment you had to your daughter and what little it allowed you to rest or do anything for yourself, really.

Naoya was eternally grateful for all you’ve done for this newfound family, and for him, so, wanting to show his appreciation, he’s decided to get off futon the moment Naomi started crying, stop you on your tracks, in favor of him tending to her.

Only to find himself regretful, useless, and upset, that he didn’t know how to ease her cries.

“Naomi, pumpkin…” Naoya would coo, gently taking her into his arms and resting her small head against his shoulders. He never gets used to this sensation, how small and delicate she was against him. “Don’t cry, papa is here.”

The baby continues to cry, still irked by something he has yet to figure out—clearly unsettled by the man who proclaimed to be her father.

He didn’t want to admit it, didn’t want to say it out loud and make his shame even bigger, but he couldn’t cower in fear anymore.

To see Naomi openly deny him, highlighting his lacking presence as a father, alongside his ignorance in these affairs, was the greatest pain he’d ever experienced.

It wasn’t fair that his responsibilities often pulled him away from the two; even when he did his best to earn a small “leave” to be able to support you after childbirth, it was very limited, almost inexistent, and from what he overheard from your staff, very, very difficult for you too.

Naoya felt ashamed to be called your husband, preach how much he loves you, and now Naomi, yet rarely be there alongside you.

But even then, you never reproached him. Not as harshly as he thought deserving. Instead, you’d reassure him that though you missed him, understood how invasive his job could be—having been raised in a similar setting— and how you knew what you were getting into when marrying him.

And most importantly: that Naomi loved him as her father and would grow to appreciate his sacrifices in due time.

Yet… his doubts remain; unsure if your words could be taken as truth, or if he’ll be able to swallow his anguish until then, because seeing her like, putting up a fight when he was trying to put her back to sleep…

Makes him feel like a failure of a father, the last thing he wanted to be in his family.

“Naomi, please—don’t cry, mama is trying to sleep.” Naoya would insist, as if she’d understood his words, or perhaps hoped she would. Naomi, of course, didn’t. “What do you want? Do you want to eat?”

She cries.

“Maybe a change of diapers?”

He checks—no. Nothing. Naomi simply continues wailing.

“I don’t know what you want.” Naoya laments, dissatisfaction in his voice. “In fact, I don’t know anything about you—or what you like. I don’t know your favorite color, your favorite plushie, if you prefer to go on walks or stay home with your mom…

But I know you’d prefer her to me right now, don’t you? Because you don’t know me either. I may be your father, but given how much I’m away, I could be a total stranger and it would make no difference to you.”

“Yet, you’re not—you are her father.” You suddenly appear, Naoya’s eyes swiftly dart over to you, confused, and perhaps bit annoyed.

“Why are you here? I told you I’d take—”

“Because I just remembered this is your first time putting Naomi to sleep when she can’t” you respond, walking over to him. “And I thought I’d be nice enough to tell you what I do.”

“…I’m supposed to know what to do.”

“Maybe, but there’s nothing wrong in asking for help.”

“That’s all I’ve asking from you, Y/N. Help.” He frowns. “I ought to know how to do something about this.”

“While the help is always appreciated, I never expected you to know everything… Not even I know it, and this is all I’ve been focused on!” you say, trying to cheer him up, but his remorseful eyes let you know he isn’t, not even close. “You’re great father, Naoya. Doing your best—that’s all that matters.”

“What good of a father can I be if my own daughter is like this because of me?”

“I’ve heard her cry when she doesn’t like something—this is not one of those times.” You respond.

“Then what is it?” he asks. “Why is Naomi crying?”

“There’s really a lot of reasons, but according to what Junko-san has told me, and the doctor, she could be hungry, have a leaky diaper, or… a nightmare.”

“A nightmare?” Naoya repeats. “She can have nightmares?”

“I don’t know, I suppose so, if it isn’t anything else.” You shrug, and a sudden wave of protectiveness washes over Naoya.

“How do I comfort her?”

You smile.

“I sometimes like to hum her a lullaby or tell her a story.” You begin. “Sway a bit too, Naomi really likes when you do that. She often falls asleep after that.”

“How do you do it?” Naoya asks quickly.

“Here, let me show you.”

Naoya is nothing but attentive to your explanations, the way you’d hold Naomi against your chest, how you’d softly hum her a nursery rhyme while gently patting her back—things that while didn’t seem to work, given the way she kept crying, didn’t sway you from continuing; in turn making him grow a bit nervous, doubt his own capabilities…

But he’d push through them either way, and once he thought himself well prepared (although very nervous) Naoya takes Naomi onto her arms, accommodating her against his chest, hand on her back, as he begins to hum a song he suddenly remembered from his childhood—one he thought long forgotten, but worked to soothe him eitherway.

Your husband didn’t think it would work, didn’t have faith that he’d be able to do as good as a job as you’d done until now, but he still tried, he kept moving forward even when Naomi’s cries echoed in the room and his insecurities prickled at the back of his mind…

Because at the end of the day, this isn’t about what he needs.

It’s about what Naomi deserves.

A present father, a trying father. Not one that would discard him onto the nannies or the mother, and only appear when it was suitable for him, perhaps even less…

He’s experienced that pain, that solitude, which clung to him well into his adulthood and barely managed to free himself of it thanks to your care—and it’s something he never wishes his daughter to live through.

No matter the obstacles, Naoya has long decided, from the moment you announced your pregnancy—no, when he realized he loved you, that he will do everything in his power to be there for the two. Even if his duties keep pushing him away for long periods of times, even if Naomi sometimes doesn’t like being with him… this is the least he could do.

“Look, Naoya!” you whisper excitedly. “She’s falling asleep already!”

He blinks, carefully looking down to her chubby face, quickly realizing she was indeed starting to feel drowsy, cries slowly quieting down as he lets out a squeaky yawn, a sound that makes both your and his heart clench with adoration, grinning at the sight. “Y/N, she is!”

“I told you you’d be able to do it.” You cheer silently. “Naomi loves her papa very much, after all.”

“She does…?” Naoya hesitantly asks, looking up to you. You nod.

“Of course, she does, you should see…” you suddenly yawn, perhaps inspired by your daughter. “You should see how happy she gets when you videocall us!”

“Really?” He beams, perhaps a bit too loud for the baby’s liking, Naomi whines. “Oh, sorry pumpkin.”

You chuckle.

“You should start putting her on the crib, so she doesn’t wake up when you move her.” You suggest, and Naoya nods before heading over to the crib, carefully peeling her away from him, laying her down on the soft mattress—thankful that she doesn’t begin to cry again while doing so—eventually covering her with the blankets, keeping her warm and safe from the harshness of the night.

At the sight of his adorable baby resting, chest slowly rising and falling, indications that she’s finally fallen asleep, Naoya can’t help but smile and gently caress her cheeks, before leaning down to kiss her on the top of her head.

“Goodnight, Naomi.” He whispers, Naomi gurgles. “Papa loves you very much.”

And the silence of the night, while lovingly admiring his daughter, a question crosses Naoya’s mind.

“… Does she really love me?” Your husband asks, going back to the previous subject.

“Yes, there’s no denying it.” you slowly say. “She… loves you…”

Naoya smiles.

“I was worried I wouldn’t be able to get her back to sleep.” He adds. “But… I guess she isn’t as afraid of me, or at all.”

“Hmm…”

“Thank you so much for everything, Y/N. You’ve done so much for our family; I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you for it.” Naoya adds, cooing at the adorable way Naomi gently frowns, before turning back to you and heading back to the bedroom. “Anything you want, whatever you need, I’ll do it—just say the word and I’ll—"

Only to find you were already asleep, leaning back on the nearby rocking chair, exhaustion completely taking over your senses.

He chuckles.

You were exhausted too, that much he could see underneath the dim light of the moon, and while he feels a bit ashamed you still had to come to aid him, it is nothing compared to the love and appreciation he feels for you, as well as the reassuring words you gave him towards his doubts.

Naoya quickly heads over to you, carefully picking you up from the chair and carrying you all the way back to the bedroom, where he’d place you over the futon, underneath the blankets before cuddling up against you; taking in your warmth and scent that doesn’t take long to lull him into sleep, but not without sighing, giving your head one last kiss, before expressing the only sentiment he’s ever felt for you the moment his eyes laid on you.

“Goodnight, Y/N. I love you.”

him feeling useless because he's somewhat of an absent (although not voluntarily) father and hating how sometimes naomi doesn't feel that familiar/comfortable with him is 😭😭😭 ugh I'm out here humanizing naoya.

anyways, I hope you liked my take on it 🥺 this was really sweet and a bit sad to write, but enjoyable nonetheless!!

Thank you so much for sending in this ask, ajhgagjkakajgagjjak keep feeding my domestic needs... i dare you....

take care, and hope to see you soon!!!

[heavenlyascent]

Besides the mini games, there weren't really aspects of the changes in FF7 Rebirth that upset me too much. I can get over the additions of Tifa being consumed by a Weapon or the Gi being a more integral part of the story because, well, they're more additions than anything else. Unnecessary additions but additions never the less

(actually that's a lie the entire Glenn plot gets to me but only because if it turns out he's Cloud's long lost father, I will flip my absolute shit).

Then I got to Nibelheim and I honestly got so annoyed that I had to stop. That they changed it from a rebuilt town with people pretending nothing ever happened to a town that's being used as a recovery certain for degrading SOLDIERS and the mayor acknowledged that the Nibelheim Incident happened is insane? How could you take out one of the more horrific and pivotal points of the storyline for both Cloud and Tifa? Like sure yes Tifa is enraged that they rebuilt Nibelheim like it never happened but where's the gaslighting, the unsettling uncanniness of a town that is pretend it has been the same for five years, that a mass murder didn't happen?

There's a stark difference between Tifa going into her home and finding another person living in her room and saying she's always been there and her home being used a clinic. The pain and wrath of her coming home and having her trauma and pain being removed. That she's told to her face 'what happened to you, your family, your friends, that didn't happen, you're crazy' because Shrina HAD to hide what Sephiroth did--because if the world found out what he did, it meant they'd have to find out what SHRINA DID.

And Cloud? Cloud who is already mentally fragile, breaking slowly, coming back home and finding physical proof that everything didn't happen the way he remembered? Lies on top of lies that he can't untangle?

What about how Nibelheim is a central part of the main story??? Undeniable proof of Shrina's power that they can go back into a massacred village, destroy any proof that hundreds of people lived and died there, rebuild it, put actors in to those homes, and pretend like nothing ever happened? Does no one on the writing team see how taking that element out of Rebuilt Nibelhiem changes everything.

God, like the original storyline hit so hard for the player. For hours we're being told by Cloud and Tifa about the devastation of what Sephiroth and Shrina did; we see the physical and mental wounds that they carry from that night, we have a flashback we play through so we know exactly how it felt--and then we arrive at Nibehliem and it's fine. It's what one of the effective parts of the original story--a gut punch that takes the air out of everyone on the team and the audience.

AND THEY DELETED IT?

God, what does that take away from Sephiroth's storyline too?? They acknowledged SOMETHING HAPPENED in NIBELHIEM with HIM. THE WHOLE POINT IS TO HIDE EVERYTHING ABOUT SEPHIROTH AND THE JENOVA PROJECT WHY WOULD SHRINA EVER LET SOMEONE ACKNOWLEDGE WHAT HAPPENED???

The more I think about it, the more this change really pisses me off. I can't understand why they thought changing pretend Nibelhiem's story except that maybe they thought it couldn't be done with the way the upgraded technology works now? The world would have to know that something was wrong with Nibelhiem just pretended everything was okay.

Except, again, no one knew about Nibelhiem except for Tifa and Cloud. Nibelhiem is a small, remote village, no one would care if it suddenly disappeared off the map--and for the most part, we never run into anyone who actually acknowledges Nibelhiem except for Tifa and Cloud. It's, again, why returning to pretend Nibelhiem hits so hard--because it puts Tifa and Cloud's already questionable stories into jeopardy. Whose lying now about this? Tifa? Cloud? Both of them? None??? Can we even trust what we've seen in the story so far?

Or Shinra, this constantly looming shadow, so powerful it can rewrite history and memories.

The thing is they could have kept the clinic thing going if they had just kept up the plotpoint of people in the village DENYING what happened during the Nibelhiem Incident. If instead that guy had just said 'I have no idea who you are or what you mean, you never lived here Tifa' it would have worked so well.

It baffles me and kind of destroyed any generosity I had for the Remake. I overlooked a lot of things because, frankly everything so far was par for the course with Nomura. I expected going in to run into Kingdom Hearts level of absurdity, so when the Whisper plotline hit I was like ah, there it is, that's the over complication of an already complex plotline. It was fine, whatever.

But this? I even see metawise why you would remove the element? Doesn't Tifa have more of a reason to be fucking LIVID? Doesn't Cloud lose even more of grasp on reality? Doesn't Sephiroth kinda of more of a point about them being covering him up like the dirty secret he and JENOVA are--in both his birth and his death? Maybe they thought if they did so the Pretend Nibelheim story, they couldn't reasonable have Cloud explore the surrounding areas and do the stupid side quests. In which case, fucking just don't do that. Not every town had to have a goddamn a sidequest. You sacrificed one of the best parts of your story for SIDEQUESTS?!?!?!?

It's personally one of the worst aspect of the Rebirth for me. I haven't hit past it yet so I don't know if it's the worst part, but it sure as hell made me really dislike the game just for that. I can forgive a lot, I can't forgive this, and I won't.

[dr-trafalgar-law]

Trafalgar Law X CisFem Reader

16

Today was the day.

You sat alone in the bridal suite at the vineyard you'd chosen for your wedding. It was a quaint vintage little cottage with one bedroom and small kitchen. Chiffon drapes allowed just enough daylight in to not be overwhelming. Robin had helped you get ready as Zoro poured drinks.

Taking a deep soothing breath you inspected your makeup in the mirror. 

“You look perfect.” Robin smiled, whisking an errant hair from your cheek back where it should be.

“Thanks,” you replied, nervous energy pouring out of you.

The entire day had been surprisingly smooth and quiet. Not something you expected on your wedding day. It also passed much too quickly. So quickly you somehow couldn't really remember much about it. Maybe your nerves had gotten the best of you. Before you knew it Robin was informing you it was time to go.

Your stomach churned as you left the suite. She handed you a large bouquet of flowers you didn't remember picking and adjusted your veil one last time. Zoro stood next to you in a crisp black tuxedo, his usually messy hair smoothed back at Robin’s suggestion.

He offered you his left arm and sighed, “Ready?”

“I- I think so.” You took another deep breath.

Robin had already passed through the double doors into the ballroom that had been decorated for your ceremony.

The music started.

It sounded so strange, slow and full of static. Your feet suddenly felt heavy. It was hard to move.

“F/N,” your cousin called quietly, “everyone is waiting.”

You nodded reluctantly and stepped forward. When you entered the ceremony space the lights were so bright you had to squint. The flowers were all wrong. It was starting to get hot and your lungs felt constricted. As you slowly moved forward you began to realize these guests weren't yours. Oh - you knew them, but they definitely weren't invited. The faces of all your would-be brother-in-laws turned from you to the groom waiting at the altar.

Marco.

“No.” You murmured through a shaky breath.

“Yes.” The blonde smiled, reaching for you.

How did you get so close so quickly?

“We always wanted this-yoi.”

You choked and gasped as he firmly towed you away from your cousin.

“F/N?” A serene voice pulled at the dark fringes of your vision, “F/N-ya.”

Law was leaning over you. Even in the dark you could see his brows furrowed in concern.

“I'm ok.” You rasped not convincing anyone.

He sat back to give you some space as you caught your breath, “Bad dream?”

“Yeah, you could say that.” You ran your hands down your face, caught somewhere between relief and a new layer of stress.

“Can I get you something?” He shifted to get out of your bed, stopping as you reached for his wrist.

“Can you just stay, please?”

His brows raised briefly, “Of course.”

He slid back under the covers and laid on his side facing you.

That dream left you feeling strange and unsettled. It wasn't a feeling you could pinpoint. Neither good or bad - but you didn't like it. You never thought you'd be so upset to see Marco waiting for you at the altar. Needing comfort, you moved closer and rested your head against Law's chest. He froze for a moment not expecting you to initiate contact.

���Is this ok?” He shivered as your voice resonated against him.

Adjusting the blanket he wrapped his free arm around your covered torso repeating, “Of course.”

A few moments passed while he felt and heard your breathing calm.

“Wanna talk about it?” He rested his chin on your head.

“It was so… weird.”

“Not scary?”

You leaned back deciding if you should tell him.

He watched your expression change and rubbed your back, “You don't have to share if you don't want to.”

This is a safe place.

“I just don't know how to feel about it I guess.” You settled against him again, “I was marrying Marco.”

Law hummed.

“It was all so wrong. The lights, the music, the flowers - him. I-I told him no. He could see me panicking and pulled me away from Zoro anyway.”

He frowned, unsure of what to say or how to shake his annoyance with how you were treated. Even if it was just a dream.

“What would you like me to do to help?”

“A distraction would be nice,” you held onto his shirt, “I haven't seen you since this morning. Tell me about your day.”

He relaxed a little more and closed his eyes, “I had a few consults in the morning.”

You chuckled softly, “I'm sure you enjoyed that.”

Law scoffed appreciating your sarcasm, “I just wish people weren't so exhausting. I only have so much time to get the information out.”

“And they ask so many questions.” You added.

“Consults for cake go similarly I take it?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, “continue please.”

“Then I had a staff meeting that honestly could have been an email. But admin likes to watch us suffer.”

“At least you didn't have to be with patients.” You murmured, closing your eyes.

“The silver lining.” You could hear the smile in his voice, “After that I had a quick lunch and then back to back bypass surgeries.”

“That sounds stressful.” You yawned.

“It was, but they went well. After everyone was in recovery and I talked to the families I came home. I had the dinner you left for me and  here we are.”

“Did you like dinner?” Your words were starting to run together as you grew tired again.

“Yes,” he yawned as well, “you haven't left me anything that I didn't enjoy.”

“Good.”

“I think it's time for sleep again.”

“Mhm …ni-night.” You nuzzled into him.

“Sweet dreams.”

Music woke you the next morning. The melody of an older indie rock song filtered into your room through the open door. You rolled over and stretched. Aside from the music you could hear your fiance shuffling around in the kitchen accompanied by the smell of fresh coffee and…bacon?

Oh gods, was he cooking?

Images of your pristine cookware being tortured with incorrect utensils and burnt stuck-on food flashed before your eyes.

Rushing through your morning routine, you finally rounded the corner into the kitchen. Law was washing up some dishes while wearing your apron, which was comically short on him.

“You don't have to look so alarmed.” He almost laughed, turning toward you.

“I-” you did your best to adjust your expression.

“I've paid attention.” He pointed between you.

You followed his gesture to the set table. Two plates with bacon, eggs and toast sat across from each other. For whatever reason that filled your chest with warmth.

“You always make all the meals. And it was a rough night so…it's nothing special but -”

“Thank you.” You almost grinned, “This is very nice, don't say it isn't special.”

Law smiled back appreciating your praise more than he realized he would.

“Have a seat then.” He removed your apron and set it aside, “Cora-ya will be here around noon.”

[izvmimi]

Matchlit - Chapter 2

cw: alcohol mention. day at the beach.

Masterlist

Perhaps you were more tired last night than you realized, because you were clearly the last to rise the next morning.

Upset with no one else but yourself, you are out of your room, grumpy but otherwise presentable by 11 am, and mercifully your friends have still left you with a warm breakfast wrapped in foil. 

“Welcome sleepyhead!” Lili calls from the balcony. She stands with Shinsou coaxing him to tell her something, she herself doesn’t know what, but there is a deeper frown on his face than usual and his lips are pressed tightly while she rubs his back sympathetically. 

Mina is painting her nails, a silly venture because you all plan to go to the beach in the next hour. Denki is looking at her feet with morbid fascination, enough that it’s slightly unsettling.

Izuku’s face is glued to the television screen, switched onto the local news, and while you take bites of porridge and bread, Kirishima wrestles the remote away from the young hero, reminding him that he’s on a damn vacation.

“I’m just trying to be aware of our surroundings!” he protests.

“I need you to fucking concentrate on chilling, man!” Kirishima yells back and Izuku frowns, which makes you burst out laughing.

Katsuki is nowhere to be found, but you can tell by the taste that he made at least part of the breakfast. The eggs are spiced subtly in the way you’ve been familiar with since early morning breakfasts at the UA dorms, deliciously familiar.

As you finish up your meal, you wonder if he’s still upset from last night, but remember that your friend is quite resilient even if he’s a bit ornery at times.

The ten of you head out to the beach as anticipated a short while thereafter, and you spend most of the time soaking up the sun and gossiping with June and Lili, while the remainder swim, read or play beach games.

“There’s no way that shit’s fair!” Denki yells as the third volleyball of the day pops after Kirishima’s harsh spike. “You’re supposed to be playing Quirkless!”

“I am!” Kirishima fires back, raising his palm.

“What the fuck kind of calluses do you have then, bro?!” 

“Are you calling me a fucking liar, bro ?” The normally easygoing redhead now stands with a fierce looking expression and the two glare at each other from the opposite sides of the net while Shoto reminds the group that they’re officially out of spare balls.

Lili from a distance, a book she’s not reading still in hand, glances over at the commotion then leans into the small three-person circle in the sand you’ve made to whisper.

“I swear I forget Shoto is here sometimes,” she giggles.

“Yeah, right?” June says, laughing a little too loudly and for a little too long. You and Lili give her a strange look and she turns suddenly to take a long sip of water. Lili wrinkles her nose further and you can see her mind working but she doesn’t say anything additional. When the three of you turn around again, Shoto is staring in your direction, and the two of you (with the exception of June who doesn’t turn) wave at him; he waves back, then heads back to the water for a swim.

You decide to change the subject.

“Is Shinsou okay?” you ask and June seems to pale even further but Lili shrugs.

“He won’t talk to either of us,” Lili says, slathering more sunscreen on her legs. She hasn’t dipped into the water once since you’ve gotten here, claiming she’s a bad swimmer, despite the fact that the UA Hero Course requires the basic skill, and despite Katsuki taking the time to chew her out extensively for being a first responder that’s nervous about swimming.

“I guess we’ll wait till he’s ready,” you offer noncommittally.

“What’s wrong with Boom Patrol over there?” Lili asks in return. “I’m surprised you’re not attached at the hip.” You cut a glare at her and she grins slyly. 

“Family stuff,” you reply, curtly.

Lili and June both shift to concern.

“Everything okay?” June asks.

You sigh. “I mean he won’t tell me details but apparently something important is going to be discussed in a couple days so it’s making him nervous.”

Lili crosses her arms.

“I hope he’s not sad throughout the vacation. That would suck.”

You nod. Katsuki really needs a break, and you do too given all you do, and hopefully he can push whatever’s going in the back of his mind just for a little while.

---

By evening the beach air is cool and salty but you are warm around a roaring fire. You sit across from Katsuki on the other end, and are flanked by Denki on one side and Lili on the other. June divides Bakugou and Kirishima, and Mina draws in close to the redhead. Shoto and Shinsou sit next to each other, cross-legged, and Shinsou appears far more bothered by this arrangement than Shoto is.

Kirishima clearly notices this and tosses a beer to him over the fire, which clearly upsets Izuku.

“Hey man, you look a little stressed, get started on drinking first!” Kirishima and Mina link arms while shotgunning theirs, while Shinsou puts his beer down in irritation.

Shoto asks him if he’s gonna drink that, and Shinsou gets up and squeezes between Lili and Izuku. Izuku gives him the slightest glare but says nothing while Lili gives him a quizzical look, whispering a “is everything okay?” and Shinsou saying something about a draft on the other side he’s trying to avoid.

Shoto looks at him and blinks but then cracks open the beer Shinsou’s left behind. June stares quickly at Shoto and then Shinsou and then downs her own beer.

“Do you have anything other than beer?” Lili asks, frowning. “Sorry to be annoying.”

“And yet you did it anyway,” Katsuki says, over the flames. Lili throws an empty can at him. 

“Can we not throw flammable objects over the fire?” Izuku asks, exasperated.

“Chill, Izuku, we’ve got Shoto here to put it out,” Denki laughs, the flush in his cheeks from him starting ahead of everyone else betraying his tipsiness.

“I only deal with emergencies,” he replies flatly. June stifles a laugh and Shinsou glares at her briefly. 

A few more moments of banter pass until Mina has the suggestion of playing Truth or Dare which has both Lili and Izuku share the same grimace in unison, Denki very excited, and Mina starting first.

“Okay, I’ll start and I’m picking…” She scans the group, and settles on Lili who already looks upset at being singled out.

“I dare you to submerge yourself over there in the ocean for a full 3 minutes.”

Lili’s mouth falls open. She looks to Izuku who gives her a sympathetic and useless look.

“I literally hate water and it’s dark and-”

Mina sticks out her tongue mischievously. “That’s why I asked you to do it, silly. It’s a DARE.”

Lili makes her way desolately to the freezing water, dips her toe in, looks again to Izuku to save her while the group stays with arms crossed, and sighs before running in.

“You LITERALLY perform rescues for a living!” Bakugou yells again, irritated.

“Fuck you!” she calls out in the distance, then disappears. The group watch, themselves holding their breath for the next three minutes, and she pops back up. Izuku lets out a sigh of a relief and helps her out and Bakugou rolls his eyes. You laugh, standing beside him.

“Why is she so dramatic?” Bakugou mumbles as Lili makes a show of shivering while soaking wet and Izuku deflects her complaints about her boyfriend not protecting her.

“Leave her alone,” you say, lightly. He shakes his head. “Don’t let her rub off on you,” he murmurs as the group rejoin the circle.

The next dare is Mina being asked to set her own acid on fire and Izuku groans while Lili tries to calm him down. The one after that involves a race between Kirishima and Denki along the sand which terminates in Denki slipping and passing out and a quick bout of unnecessary CPR.

“We’re switching to truth,” June finally decides after that.

And the first truth question is from Shinsou, who looks directly at her, and with clear vitriol in his eyes that the entire group can see, asks:

“How did you sleep last night?”

June pales, again, the flickering flames doing nothing to negate her ghostly visage.

“W-well…?”

Shinsou says nothing further, and June swallows hard. By now, it’s clear that something is up. 

Shoto is next up, and asks Kirishima his opinion on casual sex, which has the group’s eyes widen completely. 

“Dude, what?”

Shoto finishes his second beer. “Answer the question.”

Kirishima looks at Mina who is clearly flustered, and answers, “I-I think it’s fine? Maybe?” He turns and Mina is gritting her teeth. “No, actually casual sex is terrible.”

There is a pause, then the group bursts out in laughter.

“I guess since now we’ve moved to this part of the night,” Denki starts, rising up from his passed out position in the sand, he looks directly at you, and points.

“Tell us how you feel about Katsuki. Right now.”

His words slur but they’re still sharp and pointed. 

You’re caught off guard. For some reason, today, tonight , possibly because of the alcohol and the dark, and the fact that Lili looks cozily wrapped in a blanket as she rests against Izuku, Shinsou shifted to the wayside, and the crackling fire, you feel more vulnerable, and actually for once, pause to answer this question.

Your face is warm and you know it has nothing to do with the flames. When you look over the fire at the man in question, he is looking intently at you, lips slightly parted. You’re surprised he hasn’t rescued you by starting a ruckus, and it dawns on you that he too, for once, might actually want to know.

You stumble on your words for a moment, nothing coming out of your mouth.

“What do you want me to say?” you sputter out instead. There’s a sudden lump in your throat. Katsuki is already in a bad mood, you have to choose your words wisely you think; the obvious answer is ‘we are just friends’ but why are you not suddenly saying it? And why isn’t he saying it? And why are so many eyes suddenly on you?

Why is he staring at you?

“We’re friends,” Katsuki says finally. “Don’t ask stupid ass questions.”

Katsuki walks over and sits next to you.

“You drunk?” he asks. But instead, he places a hand on your forehead as if you were sick instead. You are not drunk. You are confused.

“Party foul!” Kirishima says, laughing, trying to keep the mood light. They switch back to dares, and Mina somehow manages to shotgun six beers at once. Your head spins. Lili and June give you and then each other a concerned look, and Katsuki decides to pull you aside to talk, slipping away from the rest of the party.

---

You’re not sure where Katsuki is taking  you, but wherever it is it’s in the wrong direction of either the van or the beach house, just away from prying eyes, the huddled bodies of drunken young adults becoming smaller and smaller in the distance.

“Katsuki, I’m okay, I just think the alcohol got to me, and I got a little dazed so - ” you explain as Bakugou continues to pull you along the sand at an oddly quickened pace.

He stops suddenly enough that you almost stumble and turns in your direction.

“Tell me.”

Katsuki stuns you for the second time that night. There’s a new pensive expression on his face, and you realize that you remember that look - the same one you recall from the day after he re-emerged from intensive care on that terrible day in second year, and woke up with a scar across the right side of his face and miraculously spared vision…

And you sitting right beside him.

You’re too far from the flames to be this warm, and the salty sea breeze does nothing to cool you down. The beach waves mount and crash against the rocks at the coast and your thoughts remain loud and clear nonetheless. You wonder when it became so often like this, your feelings muddled every time the two of you found yourself alone, but that’s the least of your problems right now.

“Tell you what?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper. 

You cannot possibly be this drunk. 

“There was something else you wanted to say, I could tell…”

Of course he can - he knows you almost better than yourself. And yet, Bakugou is uncharacteristically hushed too. You both mull over the moment yet again and try to collect your thoughts.

Bakugou realizes he’s still holding your wrist and lets go suddenly, and now you both stand and face each other.

You’ve heard your entire life that you and Katsuki were meant to be. You’ve taken that for granted because all friends are somewhat in love with each other, aren’t they?

“You’re important to me,” you offer.

Katsuki gives you a look that is meant to look you up and down, and the bottom of his lip quivers ever so slightly, and suddenly it clicks.

Important is not the word for it. It’s more than that. 

But you don’t elaborate. Instead, you smile like you usually do, turning off any emotions that risk falling out of line. 

And it seems like Katsuki is just about done with it, because suddenly he reaches over and cups your face in his hands.

“___,” he says your name, and it’s not harsh, or teasing or soft in the same way it’s always been. Your eyes widen as he looks into them, eyebrows furrowed as if he is deciding what the right route to take is.

And then he decides, and before his lips meet yours, you’ve realized which path you’re taking.

The waves continue to crash, and you can no longer see or hear your friends, and you are kissing your best friend for the very first time.

[arthkael]

Miss Sherlock Episode 6: Stella Maris

"Let me rummage in your pockets to retrieve my property, instead of asking you to give it back like a normal person would do."

Spoiler free summary: the son of a rich politician is receiving packages with mutilated body parts. Sherlock is called to investigate, while employees of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police die left and right. In the middle of this mess Mrs Hatano throws a party at 221b, and what should be an innocent little game reveals an unsettling detail about one of the guests. Kento brings news about the recent development of the Shina sisters case, and Sherlock makes a connection that unveils a disturbing truth.

Triggers: bl00d, g0r3, su1c1d3

SPOILER:

A package just arrived in the hands of a maid in a big, elegant house.

For a Yuichi, apparently. But when the lady of the house opens it, she finds a nasty surprise: there's an ear inside...

The next scene we can see Wato coming home, where she finds Sherlock playing with a knife. Why? Well...

But when Sherlock starts to pass the blade over the inside of her wrists (like, Jesus Christ, Sherlock!), Wato takes the situation in her hands and confiscates the knife. And since Sherlock doesn't give a shit about personal space, as we learned during all the episodes, she wrestles Wato while she tries to take the knife back.

Yes, Sherlock, but that's not the point. Only the phone ringing distracts her, and it's Reimon who wants to submit her a bizarre case.

Half an hour later, both Wato and Sherlock are at this bizarre forensic lab (where all the technicians seem to be very squeamish and silence-loving) and they can finally see what this case is about: Yuichi Takayama, son of the famous politician Koichi Katayama, received a package with a cut ear. And apparently there's something inside the hearing canal.

That something is a small hearing aid. Shibata wonders if the victim is a woman who suffers from hearing loss, but Sherlock points out that the hearing aid is just too small and doesn't match the hearing canal. The aid was made for a woman, and that's a man's ear. That means that there's a man with a missing ear out there...

Tell them, Sherlock. Keep the hope alive.

The next day Wato and Sherlock go to the Katayama family's house to question the various witnesses, especially Yuichi who was the addressee. There they find Kento, who is there for the same reason: since Yuichi is the son of the ex police chief and current member of the parliament, this case is also investigated by the security office. Koichi Katayama has good chances to become the next First Minister, so the case must be closed quickly and discretely.

The son in question isn't very worried about the macabre package he received and his answers are not useful at all: he's just lounging around on the sofa playing with his cellphone while his mother, far more upset than him, caresses his legs and that's... a very weird scene. Sherlock is not impressed: she understands in a blink what kind of person he is, and tells him that, even though he is an university student, he clearly likes Porsche cars more than studying. And here we have Kento and Wato joining forces to rein Sherlock in.

Lol.

The trio leaves the house without useful informations, the whole situation with that kid was so annoying that even the ever compassionate Wato can't help to express her vexation.

Also, look at Sherlock's intense fascination with that huge bronze vase. We also learn that Yuichi should probaly die a very painful death hopefully in the near future, because he has a history of animal cruelty and bullying, all covered up by his daddy. Kento also updates them about the Shina sisters: Yuma committed suicide, and maybe now Arisa will be more collaborative. Or at least he hopes, Arisa is his only clue.

At home Wato is musing about Koichi Katayama: a father that covers up his son's misdeeds, what kind of First Minister will he be? Sherlock doesn't care, because:

So a First Minister wouldn't change things. Wato is having nothing of that: like, Sherlock, were you like this even when you were a child? Didn't you friends find it strange? Of course not, because

The bonus screencap of this episode is Wato being exasperated by Sherlock's monotonous taste in button-ups:

Well, because she likes them, of course. In that moment Mrs Hatano enters the room with, like, 20 Kg of sweet potatoes: a gift from a friend, but she can't eat all of them by herself. Wato says that maybe they should organize a sweet potato party, that should fix the issue. Mrs Hatano likes the idea, they could invite all their friends. Seriously, Sherlock, is Wato your only friend?

And Sherlock tells Mrs Hatano, for the nth time, that Wato is not her friend. And this time Wato looks genuinely annoyed.

(Please protect her)

But they can't discuss the party further, because Reimon calls with news about the case:

Oh, joy.

The thing is, that the poor victim is a cop. Yuzo Kawasaki, same department of Reimon and Shibata, a good detective with an immaculate service record, who cared a lot about the victims of the crimes he investigated. He also taught the ropes to a lot of newbie cops...Shibata included. He is so upset by Kawasaki's death that Sherlock suggest Reimon, only half-joking, that he should be removed from the case.

Kawasaki died two days earlier. He has been stabbed, bound, gagged then he had his hear removed. Sherlock notices that the cut is very clean, the murderer evidently knew what he was doing.

The next day doctor Mukayama, head of the forensic lab, confirms that the ear belongs to detective Kawasaki. Moreover, the hearing aid has been made five years ago and the detective wasn't hard of hearing. But apparently there aren't links between Kawasaki and Yuichi Katayama.

That evening Mukayama goes home only to find a hooded thug who stabs her. Farewell, competent and eccentric lady.

The next day Mrs Hatano and Wato greet Toru and doctor Irikawa for the party. But Wato doesn't want Sherlock to know Irikawa is her therapist. She'll tell Sherlock that she's a photographer like Toru, usually Sherlock guesses people's jobs right away, so she'll try to trick her. But expectations lose against reality:

Then Sherlock proceeds to list all the clues that told her Irikawa is a psychologist. The doctor is amazed. So the lunch begins, and all of them except Sherlock are interested in Irikawa's job and ask her questions about it. I'm wondering if the characters (or the writers?) forgot that Sherlock graduated in psychology too, with a specialization in Criminal Psychology, like Reimon has been so kind to tell us in the first episode.

A round of those pop-psychology tests follows, were all of them participate save for Sherlock, who took the question at face value. At that point Sherlock has a question too: Santa brings a soccer ball to a boy, but the boy isn't happy, why? Well, maybe because he doesn't like soccer, or he already has a ball? Everybody gives more or less the same answer, except Toru:

That is enough to spoil the mood of the party. But what does this test tell us?

It's clear that Sherlock is suspicious of Toru. It isn't said why, and I would be interested in knowing on what clues Sherlock based her decision to test him (well, test... this is pop psychology too, I bet she could have found a better way to learn if Toru was dangerous or not), and I don't understand if she did it to ruin the party or because she's worried for Wato and the time she spends with somebody who doesn't know very well and is quickly and steadily insinuating himself in her life. Remember that in the timeline of the tv series they met more or less a week ago (maybe ten days ago?).

But the party is interrupted by inspector Reimon: another package arrived, and this time it's a finger. Sherlock gives her goodbyes and runs away. Wato is so distressed seeing her going alone, that Mrs Hatano and even Toru encourage her to follow Sherlock. After they left, Mrs Hatano points out that Wato is becoming a good partner for Sherlock (we know, Mrs H., we know). Then she asks a poignant question:

Oh, my sweet Summer child...

At the forensic lab, Sherlock examines the finger: it sports a fake nail that doesn't match the size of the real nail, also the finger has a familiar freckle... where's the head of the lab? It seems she didn't come to work today. A visit to Mukayama's apartment confirms that the woman has been killed with the same modus operandi used for Kawasaki: stabbed, bound, gagged and mutilated. But this time the murderer took a finger.

The fake nail has a style that was popular five years ago, like the hearing aid has been made five years ago. These are messages. For who, exactly, and why? Luckily, Shibata found the owner of the hearing aid, maybe some light can be shed on this mistery.

The owner is a girl called Yuri Takai, 23 yo, nail artist, deaf, who died in a hit-and-run five years ago. The driver took her body and abandoned it in a forest. It was found two days later. Detective Kawasaki investigated the case, while Mukayama handled the evidences. But even though it was possible to trace the culprit, nobody has been accused or trialed. Sherlock has a theory, as usual.

It's time to know Yuri's family and question them, because this whole affair looks like a revenge.

Sherlock, Wato, Shibata and Reimon arrive at Yuri's home, an apartment above the small restaurant the family owned. It's closed, but Sherlock knows how to enter. Wato, Reimon and Shibata have to cover for her, especially because a neighbour came to see who they are. Even though she's curious, the woman manage to give them a few informations: she hasn't seen Mr Takai, Yuri's father, for six months. She doesn't know where he went, but he voluntereed for a while in a charity that helped the families that lost a loved one in a car accident, maybe they know something.

Sherlock manages to pick the restaurant lock. Reimon decides that he and Shibata are off duty now, so they won't have to report Sherlock for the crime she just committed. The place is empty, but somebody lived there recently: in one of the apartment rooms they find a disturbing sight:

A hundred of photographs that show that Kawasaki and Mukayama were stalked by Mr. Takai. They also find a knife. Takai was a chef, of course he knew how to use a knife. But why did he kill them? Sherlock is convinced that they both helped to cover the real culprit. Yuri's father learned that and now he's going on a killing spree. This enrages Shibata: Kawasaki was too honest to do something like that! But nobody is 100% free of sin. And they have another problem:

The real culprit, of course.

Wato and Sherlock go to question the president of the charity Takai volunteered at. He tells them that Takai was slowly healing after his daughter's death, and tried to overcome his pain helping others. Then, six months ago, he abruptly stopped volunteering. Then he saw him again two weeks ago, but he was a completely different person. Takai told him that only right thing for the families to do was finding the killers and take revenge.

Meanwhile Shibata and Reimon are talking to Takai's neighbour: she saw inspector Kawasaki more or less six months ago, kneeling in front of Takai and imploring his forgiveness. Takai was furious with him and refused his apology.

At home, Wato and Sherlock discuss the case: why did Takai send those body parts to Yuichi? He can't be him the one who killed Yuri, he was 17 years old five years ago, so he didn't drive yet. Wato offhandedly comments that it must be a lot of pressure to have such a famous and powerful father, even their names are similar. Then Sherlock realizes something, and rewards Wato for her input with the best prize she can think of: chocolate.

Later Koichi Katayama, similarly to his wife at the beginning of the episode, finds a nasty surprise in his car:

a nosy supersmart detective and her shy but ballsy sidekick. Basically the stuff of the nightmares.

So this is the situation: Koichi Katayama killed Yuri in that accident, Kawasaki destroyed the evidences and Mukayama helped too, because Katayama was the National Chief of Police and could do whatever he wanted. Takai learned it from Kawasaki, because the detective was devoured by guilt. Takai decided to kill all of them and started with the detective and the forensic doctor, then mailed their body parts to Koichi to threaten him.

Buuut... the characters for "Ko" and "Yu" are similar, the maid read the name wrong because Takai made a small mistake writing it (he wrote the characters using a ruler to hide his real handwriting) so the first package was given to Yuichi. The second one had the correct name, but nobody bothered to check. It's time to go to the police and confess. Takayama admits his crime, and tells Sherlock and Wato that the car he drew during the accident is hidden in the garage. The two enter the garage and Katayama's assistant locks them in after tying them.

Oooops. Katayama of course doesn't want to confess, and asks his assistant to kill them. The guy is a real psycho, he wants to do the job using a knife, and he wants to torture them a bit first. He decides to start from Sherlock, because she's the insolent one. But Sherlock doesn't want to die at the hands of someone so uncreative, she already freed herself and the two start wrestling. But it's Wato who saves Sherlock, knocking the thug out with a crowbar.

And in that moment Sherlock is furious enough that she almost stabs the guy, and only Wato screaming her to not do that stops her. Anyway, how did she free herself?

With Sherlock's knife, of course.

Sherlock opens her mouth to say something, but Wato prevents her:

Lol. Wato apologizes then she says they have to go and get Takayama. I can't post Sherlock's reaction to Wato's little speech because I'd need a gif, it's a series of expressions that must be seen.

When Katayama sees them emerging, unscathed, from the garage, he immediately understands that it's time to flee, so he gets in his car and drives away. While exiting his driveway he runs over something: horrified, he realizes it's his son Yuichi who has been put, already stabbed and bleeding to death, behind a curve so he couldn't see him.

While he tries to call for help, Takai shows himself, apparently ready to take his revenge over the Takayama family.

Sherlock and Wato arrive and while the latter tries to help Yuichi, the former is more interested in knowing what happened to Takai. He helped the families of the victims, but also helped the drivers who caused deathly accidents, what made him change so much? He doesn't give her a real answer:

The police is arriving, probably called by Sherlock and Wato, and at that point Takai smiles, and just like that... he cuts his own throat. Even the ever composed Sherlock is shocked by this outcome.

Later, at home, the Sherlock and Wato discuss the case again. Takayama confessed the hit and run. But Takai... maybe they could have saved him? Sherlock is convinced that Takai is better off dead. He had lost his purpose in life, and there's no point in living like that. Wato points out that as long as you're alive you can find a new purpose, like she did not so long ago.

Wato surprised Sherlock thrice this episode: the first one with her observation skills, the second one with her resourcefulness, the third one with her strength. Are you starting to admire her, Sherlock?

In that moment Kento enters the apartment bringing news about the Shina sisters. Arisa told him that her sister kept saying "Stella Maris" would show them the way. Sherlock theorizes that maybe it's a person, not an organization. Like the North Star, that guided the sailors...guiding, hhmmm...

Sherlock sits at the computer and contacts one of her professors at Cambridge. Doctor James is surprised to see her.

Firstly, he calls her Sherlock. So that means that she used that nickname for years, even during college, maybe?

Secondly, he seems genuinely happy to hear from her. For a woman who keeps insisting she never had friends, there are several people who respect her and like her a lot, like Reimon, Mrs Hatano and that flamboyant guy in episode 2. And now this Cambridge professor, that when he hears that Sherlocks needs a favor, is immediately willing to help her no questions asked.

So Sherlock asks him if he has access to the thesis on leading crime, a paper written by one of the students at Cambridge, because she needs it right now. Doctor James, after a quick search, tells her that the thesis is blocked, but he'll try to recover it for her. On another note, all the dialogue between the two happens in English, not in Japanese. Wato asks what that thesis was about.

Sherlock tells her that a Psychology student at Cambridge theorized that you could manipulate law-abiding citizens into becoming criminals.

They were convinced that the state of the orbitofrontal cortex could also be changed using dialogue, not just with physical traumas or surgery. It caused quite a stir. Maybe the author is Stella Maris? And then Sherlock realizes something again. She runs away so quickly that Wato has to chase her because she forgot her shoes.

They arrive at Takai's apartment, where Shibata and Reimon are still collecting evidences, and Sherlock tells them that there's a connection to Stella Maris in there. She notices that a few photos, that were pinned with thumbtacks of the same color, have been rearranged.

Well, the Little Dipper form is different, but I suppose that that will do. Anyway, Stella Maris planted their clutches into Takai and changed his personality. At the same moment, Sherlock receives an email by doctor James: he sent her the infamous thesis. It was written by Akira Moriwaki, this person is Stella Maris. Shibata notices that the pictures that form the Little Dipper have letters written on the back.

Sherlock rearranges the letters, and...

It seems that Akira Moriwaki left her a message.

In the next episode... prepare for pain.

[acknowledge-reigns]

Before I go on my lil rant here I just wanna thank my friend @love-islike-abomb for inspiring me and giving me the courage to call out bigotry all 2024.

Some of y'all are gonna read this and get mega offended. Rule of thumb, if it don't apply let it fly. But if the shoe fits wear it. I'ma need some of y'all in the IWC to start checking your covert racism, inherent biases and the way in which y'all uphold white supremacy, colonizer mindsets, misogyny, ableism, homophobia, transphobia and so on. Dismantle the group think and hive mind type echo chambers of the IWC. Sometimes that shit is so ingrained you don't even realize you're participating in the fuck shit but I challenge you to listen to marginalized communities when we tell you these things so we can all learn, change and grow!

Y'all lowkey upset cause this is the first time two men of color are main eventing wrestlemania. There's no white man in the mix anymore and it terrifies y'all to finally see what it feels like to lack representation.

I'm also gonna preface the next part of my statement by saying I am in no way saying all C*dy or L* fans are racist. I am however asking you to challenge why you think the way you do regarding the situation and why you are this bitter about Roman vs The Rock when your fav gets a main event title match anyway that he's practically guaranteed to actually win. Also ask yourself why you don't want Hogan's record broken. Because the shit he said doesn't effect you?

Watching y'all motherfuckers in shambles bc the white privilege within WWE is slowly slipping the away bit by bit is so funny to me. Like it really destroys some of you that a man of color is at the top of the game and brought his whole family with him. It fucks with y'all that Naomi is back. That Bianca is on the cover of 2k24. That Jade made a fucking statement. The diversity in NXT kills y'all. But what I know what really stings and is unsettling for y'all. Your perfect white blond hair blue eyed patriotic ken doll nor small town redneck rock or their fans were able to bitch their way into hijacking a story that's been building for for years based on a SAMOAN family and based on SAMOAN culture, insert themselves and take over what was never theirs to begin with. It's uncomfortable for y'all bc that's what you're used to seeing. You're used to white people being able to come in and steal culture and shit that isn't theirs after POC spend years building it and and working their ass off and it's a scary threat to your privilege when that's challenged even in something as little as sports entertainment. Bottom line is if you are not apart of the Samoan Dynasty - If your name is not Anoa'i, Fatu, Johnson etc, if you aren't their BLOODLINE then this ain't your story. It's not your business. It's family business. Period. This post will probably be unpopular as fuck but don't shoot the messenger!

[when-jaguars-are-sick]

JAYDEN: Expecting a Miracle

Here's a pool-centric fic, featuring sick Jayden, also starring Colin and Alix as caretakers. I'm so excited to properly introduce *the pool*, one of the most important locations in my stories.

------

“Are you sure you should be going to the pool tonight?”

“Lexi, I’ll be fine. The pool makes everything better.”

“I know, Jay, but if you go to the pool expecting a miracle, it’ll seem less magical. You’re obviously upset about something. Why don’t we have a night in?”

Jayden gives a weary sigh… He’s so not in the mood for arguing. He wants to go swim for an hour, then collapse on his bed and go to sleep.

Alix knows him better than anyone, except maybe Keegan, so it’s no surprise that Alix knows something’s wrong. Alix is right in guessing that he probably shouldn’t go to the pool tonight, but they're wrong in their guess as to why. 

Alix thinks he’s stressed about something, which is fair, since that’s normally true, but tonight it’s not anxiety that’s causing his upset stomach.

It’s just some indigestion, he tells himself, remembering the ham sandwich and coffee he called lunch. He wouldn’t be Jayden if he let a little indigestion keep him away from the pool, though, so he shakes off his discomfort, and plasters on a smile for Alix.

He grabs his bag, all while Alix watches him with one eyebrow raised, trying not to smile at his stubbornness. Leaning over, he quickly kisses Alix good-bye, before heading out the door. As he’s leaving, he hears Alix call after him, “Call me if you need me!”

During the drive to the pool, he rethinks that conversation on loop, ranging from amusement, to frustration. On one hand, he appreciates Alix’s attentiveness, and his concern, but on the other hand, Alix doesn’t seem to trust him to know his body, and that’s bothering him.

By the time he makes it, he’s more than ready for a swim, needing the stress relief it brings.

When he changes into his swim suit, he notices that his stomach is kind of bloated, and he rubs at it gently, feeling it shift under his hand. He grimaces, but brushes it off as another symptom of his indigestion, figuring that a swim will help him start digesting.

Is it just me, or is the deck really warm today, he wonders, feeling a wave of heat wash over him, making him vaguely lightheaded as walks up to the water. He’s starting to wonder if it’s more than indigestion, but he’s too committed to his denial now to consider the alternative.

Shivering, he slips into the water. When it touches his skin, the sudden cold shocks him into alertness. He starts to hope the pool will work its magic and he’ll leave feeling better.

Normally, he would start with a warm-up, before working his way through a more intense endurance swim, and end with a couple sprints, lasting just over an hour. Tonight, he doesn’t do any of that, opting to start with a leisurely swim, hoping he can work off some of the gross feeling in his belly.

 Not even 20 minutes into his swim, he starts to wish he’d stayed on land. He doesn’t get seasick, but he thinks he’s starting to understand what it feels like. The water seems to be fighting him in a way it’s never done before. He feels the swaying of his body in a way that’s unnatural, and his stomach flips with every breath. 

He stops midway through the pool, and stands up, breathing carefully. He feels much steadier with his feet on the ground, the woozy feeling dissolving even as his stomach continues to flip. He frowns in discomfort, walking slowly back to the wall.

He sighs as he realizes that Alix was right, the thought bringing a sheepish smile to his face.

He’s now seriously regretting getting in the water, the small waves lapping at his chest as he reaches the wall mimic the unsettled movements of his insides, and he has to swallow back a burp out of fear that more would come up. 

He clambers out of the pool, making a mad dash for the bathroom. Thankful that he didn’t throw up in the pool, he throws himself to the floor in front of the toilet, leaning over the toilet with a deep belch. It relieves some of the pressure in his stomach, and he thinks for a moment that that might be all.

He leans back on his feet, and takes a deep breath, and when nothing more comes up, he sighs in relief. His stomach clenches, and tosses, pushing up another loud burp.

Normally he would be panicking over his embarrassing sprint to the bathrooms, but his stomach draws all his attention, and though he’ll probably obsess over it later, for now he can’t be bothered.

When nothing more happens, he carefully stands up, and that’s when his stomach decides it’s had enough, and he’s immediately spewing up lunch, and breakfast, and maybe even last night’s dinner.

He groans in pain as more stinging vomit comes surging out of his mouth, landing in the rapidly filling toilet with a splash.

Draping himself over the toilet as he continues to purge his stomach contents, he wishes he’d stayed home with Alix.

One hand laying on the toilet supports his head, and the other clings tight to his writhing stomach.

“Oh my god, are you alright?” a voice asks suddenly from behind Jayden, who belatedly realizes that he never locked the stall door.

“Nnnghh…” he groans in response.

He feels a hand touch his back, and he pulls away, wary of strangers, especially in his vulnerable state. He’s been on the receiving end of such hesitance before, and knows how much it can hurt, so he’s surprised when the man apologizes.

The man, as he leaves, promises to return, and Jayden vacantly wonders why he would come back, when he’s obviously a disaster, still soaking wet from the pool, and puking non-stop.

After a few long minutes, Jayden’s stomach settles enough that he’s no longer actively puking, but he’s tired and embarrassed enough that he stays slumped over the toilet, waiting for a miracle.

Luckily, a miracle is just what he gets, as a familiar voice says “Aw, Jayden, I’m sorry you feel so bad. Let’s get you cleaned up and out of here, huh?”

He slumps further in relief, knowing he’s in good hands. Even so, he feels a slight curl of disappointment, that it’s not Alix. Still, he trusts Colin to get him home.

Colin thanks the lovely person who stopped to help a vomiting stranger, and crouches down next to Jayden, asking “Hey, can I touch you?”

Jayden nods, knowing he needs help to get out of here. Colin peels him away from the toilet, flushing it. Then he grabs Jayden under his arms, heaving him to his feet, where he sways unsteadily for a minute, grabbing onto Colin until the world stops swaying.

Colin drags him to the showers, and quickly helps hose him off, cleaning away chlorine and puke that had settled on his skin.

They move to a bench, and Colin asks for the number of Jayden’s locker, before opening it and wrapping a towel around his shivering friend.

He pulls out Jayden’s phone, handing it to him, who shakily unlocks it and fumbles trying to find his boyfriend’s contact. Colin saves him again, gently taking the phone and calling Alix.

He picks up on the first ring.

“Jayden?”

“It’s Colin. Jayden’s sick.”

“Fuck, I knew something was bothering him.”

“Can you come pick him up?”

“Yeah, of course, I’m on my way.”

Colin sits with Jayden until Alix comes running into the room, frantic. His wide-eyed gaze lands on his wet, pale, shaking boyfriend, then Colin’s worried expression, and he springs into action.

He wraps an arm around Jayden, who sighs instantaneously out of relief, leaning into them. Meanwhile, Colin stands, heading back out the pool deck to check that the other guard is okay. Calling after him, Alix says “Thank you Colin, for looking after my stubborn boyfriend.” Colin laughs, answering “No problem. Hope you feel better!” he adds, addressing Jayden.

Alix pushes Jayden towards the changeroom with his dry clothes, before dragging him to the car. Jayden makes use of the plastic bag Alix hands him, heaving drily into the bag, before producing yet more vomit.

Alix gently places his hand on Jayden’s thigh, trying to watch the road and his boyfriend. As soon as he parks, he hops out of the car, rushing around to the other side, pulling open the door, and he puts his hand on Jayden’s back.

“It’s okay sweetheart, just let it out. You’ll be okay, I’m here now.” Jay finishes with one last mouthful of vomit, spitting harshly a couple times, before breathing heavily and relaxing. Alix pries the bag from his hands, dropping it in a garbage can conveniently placed a few feet away.

Jayden is almost asleep where he sits, and Alix knows he’s not going to be able to support his semi-conscious taller boyfriend up the stairs.

Keegan comes hurrying outside after receiving Alix’s text asking for help, and together they get Jayden upstairs, and into bed, where he collapses, having finally emptied his belly, and made it home with his boyfriend.

Alix changes into some pajamas, before laying down next to Jay.

He whispers “Maybe now you’ll believe me next time, huh, sweetheart?”

Jayden hums in agreement, before muttering “I’m so lucky Colin was there. Sorry I didn’t listen, Lexi.”

Alix rolls his eyes in response, knowing that it will happen again because Jayden’s just too stubborn for his own good, but relieved to have him home and feeling better nonetheless.

Alix kisses the back of his head, and Jayden falls asleep with a gentle little smile on his face, Alix soon following.

[kirua9]

The truth got into my eye –

"Yes, humans are certainly fragile. Although,  the thing is — they are valuable to us. You've been in despair, am I wrong? Tell me, Laito?"

Laito has been awfully unlike himself this time. Everyone caught this in the eye but only Reiji had an effort to try dealing with him because he was intimidated by his younger brother sometimes, as he was unpredictably chaotic.

– I don't wanna talk about this girl... I don't know why. After I got with her, I felt that something was changing in me – Laito rubs his eyes, frowning, hiding his face from Reiji.

***

Both of them went to the mansion's garden, filled with blooming smells of rose bushes. After reaching the live hedge, they stopped in front of the small field, where something like a ditch could be seen.

– Could it be, perhaps... Her grave?

– It is...

– It's unsettling how you left it. Please, make it at least not a hole in the middle of this field.

– I... You see, haah... I wanted to do it... But I couldn't bear it anymore!

Laito stepped aside and completely turned away. Reiji frowned and came closer to the pit. He only winced.

   Yes, it was that young girl, a sacrificial bride Makoto who was sent to the manor a few months ago. She quickly became the triplet's interest due to her appealing look and durable... mind.

Reiji recalled, how he always scolded her for not matching the norms of etiquette or just her loud manner of speaking, but she never failed to appear upset by his words. She was very easy-going and light-hearted, and sometimes her irritating behaviour was even soothing.

She became intimate with almost everyone in the manor in a very short time and it felt as if she always existed there...

Now Reiji was looking into her muted blue eyes which has always been a definition of what lively eyes are. It was a striking sight, although there was no room for sympathy toward a human girl.

– Do you regret that you killed her?

– Now I don't get a thing about what I feel, Reiji.

Two green fireflies have almost burned Reiji's soul with their teardrops. He got an ominous feeling.

– Please, calm down, Laito. If you don't know what's going on in your mind, then try to rationalize it. I see that you are in.. pain, however, you reached me despite the urge to keep everything in secret. Your actions talk instead of you. Then, tell me how did you do that... – And Reiji gave a gaze to the grave's side.

***

She quickly became Laito's victim as did many girls who appeared in the Sakamaki family.

   Laito was interested in her at the beginning of the assumption that she is the kind of girl who seeks attention. He partially got it. But only partially.

 She was chatty about herself, she was quick-aid and looked like a creature that was always on the lookout for danger.

  "You know, Laito, my uncle never loved me. I was a burden to him and after his death, I still feel he is looking after me. it's like a trace on my soul that he left after he passed away.

The feeling of grief, the regret was eating me out for days after that car accident because I always acted infantile and selfish towards him, I have never behaved. Then I felt my guilt. But you know what? Two weeks passed – and I was enjoying my solitude, playing video games and skipping school.

Am I a nasty person? Am I cynical? What do you think?"

Laito wasn't happy with that frankness. He wasn't in the mood for all of these debates.

"Fu-fu, you really sound shallow bitchy girl, you possess an open mind. But I'm getting bored of you very quickly... Let's have a nice time without those chit-chats... Let me drink your blood instead."

And his long arms wrapped around her body, she was drowning in this weird pleasure, as she was losing her blood but she didn't care for it, because she had nothing to lose. Blood loss didn't make a thing to worry about. Any physical damage didn't bother her anymore. 

"How can I enjoy the moment if I always think about what type of bruise and where I have it? It's unnecessary bullshit! It ruins the whole mood! " – she said once.

"Your body isn't rejecting my fangs, but I hear this lying whisper, begging me to stop. All you women are the same damn sweetest thing..."

"I just want you not to be bored, because I don't want to be unwanted. I don't like this feeling. It's suffocating, you know?"

***

After those times they both got satisfaction, got fed with each other – he with blood, she with attention, – Makoto didn't want to be quiet. She always wanted to talk with him.

"Tell me about your parents, will you? "

"Huh... But why are you interested in it? I think it's unnecessary to know for you."

"Why not? We're close enough to share the time, I simply want to know you more.."

Laito glanced at her. There was an irresistible willingness to learn. Something ached inside him, he couldn't figure out where exactly.

"Not everything is worth mentioning, my little human girl.~"

He told it as always with a smile on his lips. She grinned in response but not as she usually did it. Now there was arrogance in the corners of her mouth.

A sparkle of tension rushed through his body. "What's with that face?" he wondered.

"Laito, do you know, what type of a person I am? You surely could realize it, because you're so wise. When I appeared here for the first time you said that everything is written on my forehead. You said I must have been quite lonely. And now. Now, what am I to you?"

He smiled again, but his eyes didn't. He was observing her face, trying to stumble up on something... Something that changed?

   He finally caught it.

"How hadn't I noticed this before... This girl wants to know everything, she appreciates only the... "

– "My name means "Truth", by the way! And yours... Laito, yeah? What kanji do you use to write it?" — the sparkle of memories appeared rapidly and disappeared at the same rate.

"She only wants to know the truth."

The vampire bit his tongue. He was the one who enforces on his victims the reality he wanted them to comprehend. Now, what's that? He felt very icky about her statements. And she – she was like she was! Definitely had no fear.

***

Laito undoubtedly loathed, despised his brother Ayato's directness and honesty that he had, unlike Laito himself.

The young man subconsciously discovered how he was... morally weaker than Ayato, but he accused his brother of it, thinking that it is all his stupid fate to be a scapegoat made those priorities.

This jealousy didn't let him go. And now he had to deal with a woman who resembles his brother a lot. The best thing he could desire is to see how Ayato suffers and now – also Makoto.

"Looks like this human girl is begging me to test her durability. Don't worry, Little Bitch, I'll make you rue this.. I'll make you get down in the very core of agony"

***

They continued having their time together. Earlier, things were rather promising: she appeared to show some resistance to his actions, yet also didn't deny that her body felt pleasurable from all those teases.

  However, the humility in her, which the vampire could watch over due to her obvious physical weakness towards him, started fading away.

    He began to see something else in her bright blue eyes. From the very beginning, she had an open, bright glance, she rather looked curious but also frightened somehow.

Now there was sort of an audacity and it grinned his gears.

But... he didn't know why actually?

"Weird... I feel so weird when I look at her. As if I'm losing my perception?.. Or worse?.. What's that aching feeling in my chest?.."

He remembered her image, he thought she was pretty... At the same time, he didn't understand what keeps his interest in her: the desire to destroy or to make her his possession.?

***

"You told me that you know everything about me. How come? Is it the power of vampires? I honestly never thought vampires were able to read thoughts... Tho I didn't know vampires do exist, sorry.

But Laito, I don't understand you... Yet, I want to. Your eyes look like two mirrors, they reflect me in them and plug me when I want to learn about your soul. Why do you do this to me? You see, I want to be closer to you... I have no one to be with me..."

She never told him, that she loves, only likes... Laito was distracted by how that simple person doesn't say simple words, she says something tricky instead, but without any hint in her voice which would mean — she only acts down to earth. But she didn't have those hints.

***

Once she came to him, looking as if she cried. She couldn't hide her feelings. She didn't even try.

When he saw her red face and looked into her eyes – they became even bluer in comparison to the skin swelled with blood.

"Why are you crying? Tell me, who hurt you?"

He felt concerned but didn't know why.

He held her face with both his hands.

"It's the truth, nothing else." — was heard in response.

Laito clenched his teeth. She looked at him nervously.

"What fucking truth? I don't want to hear this damn word. Tell me who made you cry and I'll cut their head off..."

Makoto gulped, her knees were trembling.

"I asked your brothers... Why are you always acting so strange... I've never understood you... You never wanted to tell me... And they told me what your mother did to y–"

She suddenly felt how his fingertips pushed her cheeks...

Laito grinned atrociously. He tilted his head a little down, closer to her forehead. His cold breath horrified her to the bones.

"Do you cry because you perhaps pity me? Do you think I'm pathetic? Don't you? And you wanted to know all this crap because you wanted to be closer? You just wanted to flare my weaknesses.."  – he talked desperately, he was on the edge of madness.

She leaned her arms around his arms, maybe intending to wake him up from rage with touches.

"I'll drink you to death, till your body dries if you lie to me about what's on your mind. Have you heard it? Now tell."

She sighed deeply, as for the last time.

"Laito... I never lied to you... I value the truth... more than anything else in this world... And I think a person has to know their reality, their fate... And accept this to..keep going further in life... But.. Ayato said, you don't want to hear it, you didn't want to hear the facts... And see... And feel your true feelings... And I also felt that you're not okay with yourself... I thought that a person who can't accept the verity of his own life... can't feel... happiness..."

  Laito was unable to listen to this shit.

"Cut the crap or I cut you instead!" he shouted, then started mumbling something unrecognizable.

He was hurt, hurt again. Everyone tends to hurt him, he can't make up another way to protect his inner world... Everyone likes destroying, humiliating him, they want to break the facade just to prove to themselves that they are so good and so kind.

"You were hurt, Laito... But... I'll be with you... I'll help you to overcome this because I see you in myself, I felt the sa..."

Laito didn't hear. He grabbed her throat, his long fingers pressed on her skin tightly, and he started strangling her.

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Wither already!"

As she was suffocating, she tried to speak but instead, there were only murmurs. 

"You never take control over me! You never overlord ! "  he yelled.

"I'm suffocating..."

She was done. A huge purple bruise around her neck... Lifeless body. Warm soft skin.

   Laito was covered in gloom. He was crying and didn't feel relief as he expected he would... Seems like he didn't find the solution...He made things even worse.

  ***

He dug a hole in the field and put the body in it. He couldn't make himself close her eyes, he couldn't stand this stare.

***

   Reiji sighed.

"The familiars will bury her properly. And for you, Laito... I doubt I'll satisfy you with any advice."

Reiji managed to leave him alone. Honestly, it was the best thing he could do.

"Reiji... do you have something like a poison? I know you have, I know you have everything in your lab..." his voice still had some nervous echo in it.

The older vampire didn't even turn back. "Good grief. I have to admit, she had the truth in her words. You'd better think about it." he said.

***

After this accident, everyone felt how Laito acted downcast. However, nobody had the nerve to soothe his pain.

Ayato kept silent, as he probably figured out why the girl was killed...

Laito ignored Ayato for some time but after a few months, he started acting the ae as usual. A new girl arrived at the mansion, a new cycle started...

However, sometimes during the dawn time, Laito visits Makoto's grave. It's nothing more than an unnamed gravestone, to tell you the truth. He sits nearby the grave, sometimes he cries, who knows why, although. Maybe he figured out whom she was to him? Maybe he was up to way accepting his reality? Or he just regrets that he killed her so he would never play with her again?

Only Laito knows that.

[theshatteredrose]

Secrets: Best Left Untold? (Chapter 4) - Etrian Odyssey Untold 2 Fanfiction

AN: New chapter for the New Year! Hope you enjoy reading~

Ao3 | Wattpad | Inkitt | FFNet

-

Chapter 4:

The tearoom was nice and cosy and the fireplace was lit and blazing. With his ankle resting upon a pillow and in the chair closest to the crackling fire, Flavio had to admit that having a lazy day doing nothing was a nice change.

He still liked to keep himself busy, however.

With him, he had the monster codex. Yeah, running from a swarm of monsters was not the best circumstances to study a new breed of monsters. But he could try to sketch them, at least. And it would keep him preoccupied long enough for Fafnir to return from doing Flavio’s usual morning errands.

Oh, he also turned over the vase of flowers to Hana and they were displayed at the front counter with the note, hoping the true recipient would come forward and claim them. He hoped that whoever delivered them did not inadvertently cause a greater riff between the couple by delaying the gift.

He hoped someone claimed them. They were nice flowers.

“We’re back!”

‘We’…?

The answer to his silent question was answered when Fafnir walked into the tearoom followed closely by Arianna.

Oh…It appeared that Arianna finally got that cosy little stroll through the town that she wanted.

Flavio managed a smile, pushing back the unwanted bubble of jealousy. “Ah, welcome back. Did you-?”

He found himself pausing mid-sentence, however, when he probably looked at the two. Fafnir appeared agitate; his jaw clenched and his brow furrowed. Not profound, true. But more than enough for someone like Flavio, who had known him for countless years, to noticed.

Even Arianna seemed…not exactly upset. Perhaps rattled, which was rather unsettling as she, too, was quite adept at keeping her emotions controlled behind an air of dignity and serenity.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. Had the two had a disagreement or sorts?

“Just ran into some asshole in the street,” Fafnir replied simply and dismissively. He then presented the brown paper bag in his arms toward him. “Here. I haven’t been to the post office yet. I wanted to deliver the shopping before I did that.”

Flavio was not entirely convinced but decided not to press the issue. “Oh?” He quickly retrieved the goods and offered a smile in return. “And to check in on me?”

That prompted a small, half smile from Fafnir. “And to check in on you. Good to see that you haven’t been up walking about on your ankle.”

Honestly? Flavio had thought about it. He wanted to sneak a peek on the front counter to see if the vase of flowers for a “beloved wife” had been claimed yet. He was sure it was already the talk of the inn. Ah, that could also be the reason why it had not been claimed yet. Who would want to come forward due to all the gossip?

“I’ll head back out there and brave the masses,” Fafnir said before he presented Flavio with a very pointed look. “And you, I want to have a chat with you about your work load.”

Flavio rolled his eyes with a smile, setting the shopping onto the coffee table in front of him. “It’s not that bad. Besides, I like to keep busy.”

“You do need to relax once in a while.”

“Well, I’m relaxing now.” True it was kinda against Flavio’s choice, but semantics. “So, hurry up with the chores so you can join me.”

“Right, right.”

Fafnir turned to leave, but his gaze fell upon Arianna, who had been uncharacteristically silent during the whole exchange. She remained close to the doorway of the tearoom, her hands clasped elegantly in front of her, and her gaze focused upon the floor before her. She, however, had a faraway gaze to her eyes. Lost to her own thoughts.

“Arianna?”

At the sound of her name, Arianna snapped out of her revere and a smile automatically appeared on her lips.

“I must respectfully decline,” Arianna said, which was honestly quite surprising. “I had just remembered that there is something I must attend to here. Do take care, Sir Fafnir.”

With a small smile, Arianna turned and walked out of the room. Her back straight and her steps silent, her movements were graceful. Those true to a princess, but to Flavio, they were troubling.

A small, selfish part of himself told himself that he should be relieved. But his rational side was genuinely concerned. He wondered what truly happened during their morning stroll. It felt to him it was more than just an encounter with some inconsiderate local. Perhaps he should talk to Fafnir about it later?

Fafnir stood still, staring in the direction Arianna disappeared in. He uttered a hefty sigh a moment later before he turned to glance back in Flavio’s direction. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Ok, be careful on those icy paths,” Flavio replied.

Fafnir offered him a small smile before he, too, left the room. And left Flavio alone, with only the crackling of the fireplace for company.

He set his monster codex aside for the time being and busied himself sorting through the shopping items. With Abigail being ever-diligent, he knew everything would be accounted for. So, he was simply sorting through the items to keep his mind and hands busy. Medicals items together in one pile while the other held other exploring essentials.

Must always ensure that his explorer’s kit was up to date, after all. And, more importantly, plenty of Ariadne Threads.

With everything accounted for, he better take his supplies back to his room.

Carefully returning everything back into the paper bag, Flavio rested it into the crook of his elbow and reached for his walking stick. His ankle was still a little sore, in all honesty. It should not be that much of a surprise. It was a weight bearing joint, after all.

The inn was rather quiet for that time of the morning, though it was likely due to the explorers who called it home had all ventured to the labyrinth. And as he walked through the foyer, he took note that the vase of hydrangeas was still present, sat atop of the front counter. Even if they were never claimed, they offered a fresh, floral scent and vibrant colours to the room.

It took some manoeuvring for Flavio to climb the stairs, but he thankfully did so without making a fool of himself or making a mess.

Which was incredibly fortunate as he passed an elderly gentleman, a veteran explorer by appearance with long messy black hair with silver streaks, who hogged the banister. With a bag over his shoulder and a hand rubbing the small of his back, the guy mumbled about aches and pains, and damn kids these days leaving things out on the floor as he passed.

Flavio had no idea if the guy was taking a swipe as him for some reason, so just ignored him. He had more important things to concentrate on.

Yet, as he hobbled down the hall to his room, a bright colour of yellow immediately caught his attention.

Before his door, on the floor, was another vase of flowers. Daffodils. If he remembered correctly, they were not easily grown around High Lagaard, so they were not easy to get a hold of. Quite expensive.

Instinctively, Flavio glanced up and down the hallway. Yet again, empty. Just like it was last night.

Huh? Did the courier make another mistake?

Hitching his shopping into the crook of his arm, Flavio leaned against the wall next to his bedroom door as he reached into his pocket to retrieve his room key. He pushed the door open and carefully edged around the vase of daffodils to step inside. He deposited the shopping bag onto the bed before turning and quickly hobbling back to the flowers.

He figured that last night’s sender had gotten the room number’s wrong and the courier simply did their job. They may not even have taken noticed of the flowers on the front counter. Not part of their job or something.

That had to be the only explanation. Thankfully, like the first, there was a fold card amongst the flowers.

‘Did you not enjoy the flowers…Flavio?’

Wait, what?

‘I picked them for you. They were my wife’s favourite. I thought you would enjoy them, also.’

A feeling of utter confusion washed over Flavio as he re-read the card. It…did not make any sense to him. Who-? What-?

He quickly looked at the bottom of the card, yet there did not appear to be a signature or name of the one who sent it. Nothing remotely similar.

Who would…?

It…could not be that guy, could it? From the other day. That guy who claimed Flavio looked just like his deceased wife.

The card mentioned wife. Both cards did. But he had not read the first card in its entirety. Maybe he should head downstairs and do that. Fafnir did not necessarily react negativity to it, though. Just thought the sender was a loser.

But the mention of wife at all…it was too much of a coincidence. Wasn’t it?

Whoever the guy was, he…moved quickly, if it was him. It had been, what, two days? One and a half if he counted last night. How could he have found his name and what room he stayed in?

…Gossip was pretty potent around High Lagaard, though.

No, no, it could not be him. He was getting a head of himself. Someone could just be playing a prank of him. Someone could have overheard the conversation and thought it would be hilarious to play a prank on the both of them for some inexplicable reason. The streets were busy, after all.

It was just…too bizarre.

Flavio would…keep the note. Tuck it away in a drawer somewhere and place the flowers downstairs. Fafnir might get the wrong idea if he kept them. Besides, they were pretty flowers and they would be better off down in the foyer.

Speaking of Fafnir, he better get his butt back down into the tearoom before he returned. He might get some scolding from him if he found him up and about walking on his injured foot.

The bottom drawer of his desk was hardly used, so Flavio would stash the note in there for the time being. And with the inn relatively empty, he would be able to place the second vase of flowers with the first and just pretend not to know where it came from. Or something.

He would look at the first one differently now that he had the knowledge that it was actually meant for him.

Should he tell Fafnir?

A part of him did not want to. He had enough on his plate, with the Fafnir Knight curse, needing to get stronger, and, you know, potentially saving High Lagaard from unknown danger.

There was no way he was going to add to his stress.

Some idiot sending flowers to mock him was not worth worry about.

Hitching the flowers in his elbow, Flavio tossed the note aside and made doubly sure to lock the door to his room. He carefully, but quickly made his way into the foyer and breathed a sigh of relief to find it empty still. He placed the daffodils next to the hydrangeas and snatched up the other note, shoving that into his pocket to keep with the first in his room.

As Flavio settled back into the tearoom, he frowned to himself when he realised that the chair he had chosen, the most sought after one during the cold season he had been told, had the disadvantage of having his back facing the windows to the back garden. Though, he argued with himself that it was better than to have his back facing the door. The windows were closed tightly. The door, however, was not.

Yeah, he was feeling a little paranoid.

He hoped Fafnir returned soon. He could not stop that prickly feeling on the back of his neck. It was unsettling knowing that some potentially faceless, nameless individual knew where he slept and was messing with him. There was no way those flowers were genuine.

“Oh, Flavio dear. I hope you’ve been staying off that ankle of yours and staying warm.”

Flavio looked up from his monster codex and immediately smiled when inn owner and matron, Hana, walk into the room. With a silver tray in her hands. Upon it appeared to be a small porcelain teapot, a couple of teacups, and a few rich and creamy baked goods.

Oh, did she make something for him? How thoughtful!

“Of course,” Flavio replied, telling a small lie as he lifted his ankle from the coffee table and pushed aside the pillow to allow for Hana to place down the tray before him. “I wouldn’t want to wander too far. I might lose my spot by the fire.”

“Oh yes, this chair is the most coveted,” Hana joyfully chortled. “Wait until the winter blizzards. I’ve seen guilds go to war over that chair!”

S-she was joking, right?

“By the way, I just noticed a new vase of flowers has been added to the hydrangeas. Could our mystery couple still be fighting?”

Flavio hid a grimace. “Oh, really? I didn’t hear anything.”

Hana huffed, slightly bewildered. “Oh well, I’m never the one to turn down flowers. They certainly do brighten up the place!”

He was glad that someone found joy in them. Would be a shame for them to go to waste. Wasn’t the flowers’ fault that the sender was being a jerk.

“I’m back. Again.”

Flavio immediately perked up and looked behind Hana. “And welcome back,” he greeted as Fafnir approached, in his arms a few letters and envelopes.

“Oh, good,” Hana greeted also. “You’re just in time for some tea. That should warm you up.”

Fafnir nodded as he handed the letters to Flavio before he shrugged off the thick winter coat. “The wind is getting colder.”

“The northern wind usually starts this time of day. That is why the morning are usually so busy!” Hana explained before she hustled Fafnir toward the seater closest to the one Flavio occupied. “Sit sit, time to warm those frosty toes of yours.”

And with a slight hum, Hana toddled from the room. Both Flavio and Fafnir watched until the motherly inn-keeper was out of sight and hearing range before they both turned to each other.

“Is your hand ok?” Flavio asked quietly.

Fafnir raised his scarred, cursed hand and flexed his fingers. “A little stiff from the cold. But it’s thankfully not painful.”

“Ah, thank goodness.”

Huh, just like he thought. The paranoia that Flavio felt before was gone.

“Pour yourself some tea and get yourself warmed up,” Flavio went on to say. “We’ve got nothing else to do for the rest of the day, right?”

Fafnir curled his hand into a fist and a smile appeared on his lips. “Right. We’ll have a lazy day today.”

That sounded good. Especially if that meant he could spend time with Fafnir in the tearoom. Just the two of them. In front of the warm, cosy fireplace…

“Oh, Arianna, are you going for a walk?”

Both Flavio and Fafnir raised their heads upon the sound of Hana’s voice, and their brows furrowed with confusion simultaneously. It would have been comical, if they were not bothered by the conversation occurring in the foyer.

“Oh, yes. Just a very short one,” Arianna replied, her voice sounding cheerful, yet not quite as bubbly as she usually presented herself to be. “I just realised I, too, have a few errands that I needed to attend to. I’ve been, um, distracted as of late.”

Yeah, she had been rather…preoccupied.

Hana chortled in her usual exuberant manner. That only a mother could do. “Don’t stay out too late. The northern winds are surely to leave you cold.”

“Oh, thank you for your concern, but I will be all right. I will return shortly.”

A moment later, the large oak doors of the inn entrance were heard creaking open and then closing shut. Funny, Flavio had not heard them all day, but at that exact moment, they were quite loud.

Amazing how loud and obvious things could be when one was listening for them.

“Arianna has a crush on me, doesn’t she?” Fafnir suddenly blurted out.

Flavio did his best to hide a wince. So, he had noticed. Well, how could he not, he supposed. “Yeah, she does.”

Fafnir leaned forward to busy himself with pouring himself a cup of tea. “Someone asked if the two of us going for a walk together was a date.”

Flavio’s hands instinctively clenched, digging into the material of his pants. “Did they now?”

“It wasn’t a date.”

“Ah.” He unclenched his hands. “I see.”

Did he sound too happy at that?

Fafnir poured tea into the second cup. “I made sure to tell them that,” he said, lifting the second cup. And handing it to Flavio. “I didn’t want anyone to make that mistake.”

With a small smile, Flavio gratefully received the cup. His fingers brushing against Fafnir’s. A touch that, perhaps, lingered a little too long. Or, perhaps, it did not last long enough. “That would make things awkward, wouldn’t it?”

“Especially since she is like a sister to me.”

Hah, sister…that was greatly reassuring.

Was…that the reason why Arianna was so rattled? Flavio felt for her, he truly did. It must have been a painful thing to endure, hearing those words. To have the notion of a date outright rejected, just like that. It would have been for him. Absolutely.

Yet, he was also relieved. Knowing how Fafnir really felt for her eased his own peace of mind.

“Have you…told her that?”

“Not…specifically.”

That was fair, honestly. No one with a kind, protective nature like Fafnir would want to be the one to break someone’s heart. Not the heart of someone he regarded as a sister. No brother wanted to do that.

Perhaps Arianna did not need to be told?

But maybe he was just hoping she did not. That kind of conversation…it was one no one truly wanted to have. It was emotional, draining. No one truly knew how the other would react.

Hearts were such fickle things.

“By the way,” Fafnir suddenly began. “I noticed a second vase of flowers on the front counter.”

Flavio was grateful that he had not been drinking at the time. He might have accidentally burnt his lips, if he had. It was difficult enough to keep a straight face. “Y-yeah. Someone else must have gotten them and followed my example.”

As endearing as Fafnir’s protectiveness was, he was sure to be even more protective toward him if he found out that the first was not a mistake and he had received a second just a few hours later.

Hopefully, after the second rejection, whoever was sending them would take the hint and leave him alone.

The only man he wanted in his life was Fafnir, after all.

[ibelieveinahappilyeverafter]

A Matter of Perspective -- Original Story

A/N: Another original writing piece from college writing class! This time it's science fiction instead of romcom! I hope you guys enjoy!

Summary: Randy, a bounty hunter in charge of taking down dangerous hackers in a technologically advanced society, has been given a job that leads to him reconsidering his perspective on just where the world is going. It might have something to do with one of the hackers being his best friend from childhood.

If you enjoy this story then check out my Writing Commissions

…or, if you prefer, you can just buy me a ko-fi through my main! ☕ …of, if you have a nice allowance, support me on Patreon! 🪶

A Matter of Perspective

“We have always come from humble beginnings. Our company, Oracle, got its start in VR technology as far back as the early 2000s. Now, in 2123, we’ve grown in leaps and bounds. While we started small, today we have become the third largest tech conglomerate in the world and the top here in the United States. The world has changed a lot since we began, but we’ve made sure to never stop looking towards a brighter tomorrow. 

“At the start of our company the world as it was then had no idea of what would come. They didn’t have the network that connects everyone together and they didn’t have the visors that would allow them to see and interact with the world in ways that had only been seen in science fiction novels. The people of a hundred years ago were scared, and alone, and cut off from each other. Even today, a great deal of the population doesn’t have access to visors and the network. We come to you today with a solution to that. 

“This beautiful world we live in can be pushed and grown further still. To help begin that, I am endlessly proud to speak with you today about our latest project: the Farsight chips! There is much work to be done before we can take our next steps, but we want to show you just how committed we are to a better future. 

“Farsight is designed to connect you to the network like never before, allowing you constant, uninterrupted access with all the features you know being activated by nothing more than a thought. It's the next stage for us as not only a society, but as a civilization. These chips, small enough to fit in your palm a hundred times over, are implanted at the base of the cerebrum-"

Well, Randy thought to himself, that isn’t going to go down well. That might even be an understatement, too, as the live news broadcast he was watching on his visor regulated itself and turned the volume down in response to the screaming and shouting of the people and news reporters on the scene. 

Oracle often threw PR events and gave first looks at technology, but this seemed more like a bid to get public support — which made sense. Something like putting a chip in the brain was extreme even for the most network dependent of people.

With how intense and upset some of the crowd was looking on the broadcast, Randy also had the unsettling thought that it was a very bad time for him to be in an Oracle office waiting room like he was. 

Thankfully, his worries were interrupted as an incoming alert message flashed on his visor, Randy opening it as soon as he saw the name. ‘Did you see the broadcast?’ Ah. The worries were back. 

‘i’m going to assume you mean the chip in your brain one oracle just did’ The slew of exclamations and angry emojis he got in return was impressive, truly. ‘lot of angry people down there’

‘Yes! I’m one of them!’ Oh for fuck’s sake. Randy was already half out of the power seat he had been sitting in, all of his electronics giving a small beep to let him know they were fully charged, before he started pacing. Better than then running down there to drag Andrew out by the scruff of his neck. ‘Don’t come down here, I’m fine. I know you have a work request today.’

Randy sent in a call request, immediately talking the second it was picked up. The visor audio controls would ensure Andrew would hear his screaming than the screaming around him. “I can’t believe you went down to that thing! I know you’re not the biggest fan of technology taking over and all that, but I’d really rather not use the credits of my last job to bail you out of jail for taking part in a riot!” 

“It’s not a riot!” Andrew defended himself over the call, Randy glaring at the little contact icon since he couldn’t glare at Andrew himself. “Seriously, I’m fine, Randy, I’m okay. Nothing aggressive is going on and none of the security look bothered. There’s just a lot of yelling and screaming and a couple of news reporters trying to climb the barricades.”

Before Randy could continue tearing into the stupid best-friend-slash-little-brother he had been stuck with since childhood, he heard the call of his name, “Randall Beaumont?” 

“One moment,” Randy called over to the waiting receptionist politely before lowering his voice and trying not to glare. “You had better send me a text when you’re home safe and don’t think this conversation is over.” 

“I’ll send you a million texts all complaining about today and how much of a paranoid mother bear you are,” Andrew said ‘sincerely,’ Randy hanging up the call and trying to pretend he was more upset than worried. 

Shaking it off as best he could, Randy went over to the desk, the receptionist smiling at him, “Thank you for your patience in waiting today. We’ve confirmed your bounty license and rank and you’re all set to go back.”

A quick exchange of thanks and Randy was following the guiding lights into the back offices, taking quick looks around at everything. While it was an Oracle office building, it seemed just like any other office building Randy had been in — especially since it was an administrative one. 

The guiding lights ended at an office door that slid open when he approached, a voice shouting out from inside for him to come in. The office definitely looked like it belonged to someone important, especially with the countless bookshelves of actual books made out of paper. Ah, Andrew would kill to have this room. 

“You must be Randall Beaumont! Please, please, have a seat, make yourself comfortable.” The man, a quick look at the nameplate read Jonah Taylors, didn’t seem to give any indication as to what his job was. That left Randy to assume he had quite a bit of power in this office if nothing else. 

“Randy, please,” Randy finally said, putting on his best customer service smile. “I have to say, as a bounty hunter I usually get requests from the station. Not often am I called in by a company.” 

“Sounds like a waste of your skills as an alpha level hunter,” Taylors grinned, probably assuming he looked friendly. Randy would call the expression more smug, than anything. “My, how the days have changed. My grandad used to tell my stories about bounty hunters, you know. Back then they took down people who had arrest warrants out on them, you know, and now in this age it’s all about tacking down the hackers.” 

“As times change, so do the people,” Randy said, doing his best to keep his smile on. He’d rather not have waited in a waiting room for almost an hour just to hear a history lesson he already knew. “If I may ask, though, why did you contact me? I assume it’s about a job?”

“You assume correctly!” Taylors placed his hand on the interface screen of his desk and swiped upwards, an information packet appearing on Randy’s visor that he didn’t hesitate to open. “Oracle is throwing a gala at one of our labs, an event for researchers, developers, and a couple of newsagents. We have some exciting projects in the works and we want to show the public that we operate with full transparency!”

Please, Randy thought to himself, trying not to laugh. A tech company as big as Oracle never operated with ‘full transparency.’ Still, the info packet looked clean, talking about the gala in more detail and showing a rough floor plan of the main floors and a couple of side rooms. Nothing about the labs, unsurprisingly. Taylors gave him a minute to look it all over, smiling when they made eye contact again. “We would like to hire you to work as security at the event.” 

“Oh?” That was… interesting. Randy felt himself a little lost for only a couple of seconds before realization sunk in. “You think some hackers will try something?” 

Taylors smiled, prim and proper, and tilted his head, “You’re an alpha ranked hunter, Mr. Beaumont. I wouldn’t call you in for something as simple as some hackers.” Ah… Randy was starting to see the picture. 

These days, anyone could be a bounty hunter and track down hackers once they got their certifications, but there were some bounties that were dangerous and needed ranked hunters. Typically, though, the only jobs that needed hunters that were as high as alpha were jobs that dealt with the possibility of assassins. 

Hackers were a dime-a-dozen, always trying to hack into the network and wreak havoc, transfer themselves a million credits, or prove to their friends they could actually do it. Assassins, though… 

The network linked everything. Assassins could delete someone from the network, wipe all of their records, even destroy the physical servers where their information was stored. No records meant the person might as well not exist, unable to access anything from their funds to their work to even their home. It was, without a doubt, killing someone without the bloodshed and with a lot more work afterwards. They didn’t just go after people, either. 

“You think an assassin is going to try and target your labs during the gala?” Randy asked, noticing that Taylors’ smile was a lot more tense than it had seemed at first glance. “Surely you have in-house security that already know all the systems and ins-and-outs, don’t you?”

“We do, but you’re not the only hunter we’ve been recruiting for this. While Oracle operates with transparency, part of the reason this gala is taking place, some of the lower labs contain sensitive information on projects that would negatively affect millions if it were to be lost or destroyed. On a normal day, with the security measures we have in place, no one would be able to get in to access the physical servers. With a public event like this…”

“Things slip through the cracks,” Randy finished, starting to feel a curl of excitement. He loved interesting, difficult jobs, and this seemed like it would be one. “When is your gala due to take place, Mr. Taylors?” 

“Three days.” Oh, this was going to be fun.

⚞⛭⚟

Idly looking over the guests he could see, Randy completed his third circuit of the room and then decided that this job was going to be a lot less fun and a lot more boring. Four hours in and the most excitement Randy had gone through was helping an old lady find the bathroom. 

“It’s not too late to come work with me at the library,” Andrew piped up over the call he had going with him. No doubt it was unprofessional to have a call going while on the lookout for hackers and assassins, but, well. He was bored. Everyone else who was there as contracted security looked just as bored, too. “Much more excitement than helping people find the bathroom.”

“It was just the one person,” Randy felt the need to point out, immediately scowling after he did so. “Remind me to never accept a security position again.” He had, of course, been unable to tell Andrew just who and what he was playing security for, but he had said enough to be able to complain. 

“Cute that you think you would ever actually listen to me.” Mm. True. “It can’t be that bad, especially if it’s so boring.” Andrew’s voice faded out for a moment, Randy waiting patiently and then snorting when he heard, “No, you idiot, that’s- Move aside, I’ll do it myself.”

“Your fancy college study group going well, then?” The huff was an answer in itself. “Correcting others' mistakes even when distracted. When did you get so smart?”

“The second you looked away,” Andrew laughed, the joke old and worn at this point, but no less comforting. “Sorry, Randy, I’d love to distract you from your job more, but I need to go. These people would be lost without me.” Not even audio regulation could drown out the offended swears of some of the people in the background. “Talk later?”

“Talk…” Randy trailed off, feeling a sense of unease as he looked around the room. His visor was filled with warnings and reminders and a million other things with how busy and communicative the gala was, but something about the movements of the people on the floor felt… different. “I gotta go. Work- Uh, study hard. Talk later.”

Ending the call before Andrew could worry at his tone shift, Randy lifted his visor up, getting rid of the warnings and reminders and everything else and looking around the room. Instead of the directionless drifting everyone had been doing, it seemed like ten or so people were suddenly moving in the same direction, both people on the floor and off to the sides. 

“What’s wrong?” One of the contractors, another hunter, noticed where he was looking. “You think-” Before the question even finished, the lights went out. 

“Shit,” Randy muttered, hearing similar swearing all around him as well as screams from the guests. He saw flashes of green spread out like a wave among the crowd, everyone’s visors sensing the sudden darkness and activating an automatic night vision program that would allow everyone to see. 

Something kept Randy from lowering his visor back down, a sense of suspicion and unease that he was glad to have when all of the lights in the gala flared back on. With the night vision programs activated, it would have caused nothing short of blindness and severe spots in peoples’ vision, even with the way people were jerking their visors off and yelling and shouting. 

Randy blinked at the few spots he had out of his own eyes and didn’t stick around to see if anyone else had avoided what had obviously been a planned distraction, instead turning and rushing for where the servers were supposed to be kept. He had a feeling the assassins they had been waiting for had shown up. 

Randy hated to admit it, even to himself, but he was impressed. The gala was the best time to sneak in and destroy or steal whatever projects they were after, but using the lights and automatic night vision programs to blind everyone to their moves? It was clever, and he didn’t like it. 

Assassins were always smart, there was no way for them to do what they did without being smart, but this was clever. What set him on edge, though, was that assassins tended to work on their own or in very small teams of two or three. Randy had seen ten people moving in the same direction. It was the same direction he had darted for and now, with the server doors in front of him, Randy had the vague feeling he should have waited for backup. 

Putting the thought out of his head that Andrew would lecture him over this once he heard Randy did something as stupid as he usually did, Randy sucked down a breath and went to work. 

Flicking his gloves on into interface mode and breaking down the hastily placed lock with his visor, Randy flicked his hands out hard to switch over into stun mode. He heard a quiet swear from behind the door and knew that there was no chance of getting the element of surprise on his side. 

Frontal assault it was, then. 

“Good evening!” Randy greeted as he pushed the doors open with his foot, keeping his hands up peacefully and making sure the voltage was high enough to drop someone. “I think you might be in the wrong place, right now.” 

He was right. Ten people were in the room, all dressed in various states of looking like they had attended as guests, reporters, or even janitorial staff. There were a couple different hacking boxes and flash drives scattered around, which likely meant they were trying to see what the servers held or delete a specific project rather than everything there. 

“You’d be better off turning back,” one of them spoke, raising his own hands peacefully with a smile. “We’re not here to hurt anybody — the opposite, in fact. Let us go, and you’ll be helping to save billions.” 

“Not often I hear an assassin talk about saving people,” Randy said, trying to draw out the conversation as he gently flicked his hand to turn one of his gloves into interface mode, careful as possible to keep his hand still as he sent a message to the security team on where he was and how many hostiles there were. “Robin Hood types?” 

“Which means no monologue,” the man joked, no doubt the one in charge of the operation. Randy memorized his face as best he could. “Kid, you’re up.” 

A flash of black out of the corner of his eyes had Randy putting both gloves back on stun and spinning neatly to the left, raising his arms to block a punch. He blocked it, but everything in him went blank and still at seeing Andrew’s apologetic green eyes. “Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” 

At a barked out order to pack up and run, Randy tried to break away and get to the obvious leader, instead cut off by Andrew getting in his way again. Randy wished he had hesitated, but he didn’t as he went to slam his fist into Andrew’s chest, stun mode still on and high. He wasn’t sure if he was grateful or not that Andrew caught the hit with the flat edge of a knife, a rubber handle ensuring he didn’t get shocked. 

“You finally get to meet my study group, at least?” Andrew joked, a million words bubbling up in Randy’s chest and getting trapped in his throat as he looked up to see the other nine were packed up and starting to run for an exit. “Please, please, please just let this go-” 

“How long,” Randy cut off fiercely, throwing Andrew’s knife and his hold on it to the side before kicking a leg out to hit him in the side. He couldn’t help but feel a spark of pride as Andrew caught the leg and went with the momentum, throwing them both off balance and giving the others even more time to get away- 

“I’m sorry!” Andrew caught the fists again, this time following it up quickly with a knee to his chest. In the same moment Andrew used his knife to slide his fists down and away from them both. “I don’t have time- There’s no time to explain everything, but we’re just here for the Farsight project. That’s it. That’s all we took. Randy- Randy, please, you know that nothing good will come of that-!”

“How long have you been an assassin!” Randy shouted back- There were only two others left in the room, not counting him and Andrew. A knife getting dangerously close to the edge of his face had him jerking backwards, a hand swiping his visor off before Andrew was suddenly a few feet back and away from him. 

“I-” Andrew’s expression wavered, his smile falling and rising like he was trying to keep it on. “It’s a long story, but I’m not- Not really. I just do this- help with things like this. Stop things that would hurt people. Things like putting chips in people’s brains- Randy. Please.”

He couldn’t tell how many people were left, not with his visor gone and his own night vision guides out. The room was dark and only lit up by blinking lights from the servers. He could still see Andrew, though. Enough to see him coming in for another hit. 

Not sure if he hated himself or not as he did it, Randy flicked his gloves back to their default, inert state, catching Andrew’s wrist and twisting to get him to drop the knife. It would have been the perfect moment to stun him and take him out, but he couldn’t. He knew he couldn’t. 

Andrew was silent in his hold, even as they both knew he could break out. “Visor, please,” Randy finally said, voice sounding like he had run a double marathon back-to-back. Andrew, to his credit, immediately put it back on him. It was a little crooked, but it was enough to see that the security he had called was on their way. From what he could tell, someone was throwing up locks on every door between here and the gala and slowing them all down. 

“You’re the reason I’m going to go gray,” Randy finally huffed, meeting Andrew’s gaze to see he was giving that shy, nervous and apologetic smile he always gave when he did something that was sure to piss Randy off. “Why?”

“It’s not right,” Andrew said immediately — firmly. “I’m not an assassin- Or I guess I am? It’s… a matter of perspective. Whether I am or not, though, I’m not going to just sit aside and- And let even the possibility of something like this happen. I don’t do this to hurt people. I- I do it to be like you. Keeping people safe one job at a time, right?”

Randy couldn’t have stopped his laugh if he tried, his grip on Andrew all but gone as he looked down at this brat who had somehow grown up to be someone so good. Stupid, of course, but good. “When did you get so smart, huh?”

Andrew smiled, bright and happy, as he gently knocked his forehead against Randy’s. “The second you looked away.” 

Watching Andrew slip his grip and disappear around a bank of servers, Randy sighed and set to scrubbing any audio or video from his visor on what he had seen. If anyone wondered about him not doing his job, well… 

That was all a matter of perspective, really. 

[maiselyormaiforshort]

Tfp secretly Frenemies au,Putting this here because I heard Americans can't read fanfiction now(warning:never watched Tfp,mouth washing reference,I suck at writing)

Remind him to close his eyes

For the past few joors the autobots have been starting to crumble due to the energon supplies being low and the constant moving won't help it, they've changed bases for the last few minutes because its impossible to find one that doesn't have scraplets,there's only one way to solve this

The autobots need someone smar- no not smart, someone sane

HackRate RazorEzquivel's Eyes have been malfunctioning these joors,using the knowledge that he had,he healed himself,though only one eye could be restored,the other had to be removed or else it could cause an infection

"Think about it Microzus,we're solving two problems with one answer"

"No no,it's not that I don't want to punch you,it's just- leading the decepticons won't be the same without you"

"Megatron can put up with your bs,shockwave is just as smart as I am,even if you still have issues you can always call me"

"Alright alright,are you sure your okay with?-"

"MicDrop I have just as much as pain tolerance as you and CrackerJack do,it'll feel like nothing to me"

Remind him to close his eyes

They're on a battlefield,it's dusty,foggy and unsettling,but thats not what's making MicDrop Microzus head spin,Shockwave had located the autobots coordinates,there's an energon supply base,only enough for one side,though the decepticons already have plenty to last for centuries,so why are they here?

"Lord Microzus,I'm not addressing that I'm disagreeing but,i find this illogical"

"Shockwave how dare you question Lord Microzus actio-"

"It's okay Megs, we're not here for the energon,there's a big power supply in that base under all of the rubble,you could use it for"

Remind him to close his eyes

Primus,how long has she been talking for,it doesn't matter because in a few seconds he's not going to see her,not permanently but long distance calls aren't the same to sitting on her shoulder while she's doing important datapad documents

"RazorEzquivel,you calculated how much time and energy we need to get there before the autobots,am I correct?"

"of course,we brought enough supplies just enough to get In and out of the base before it crumbles"

"Then Im guessing nothing bad is going to happen"

Remind him to close his eyes

The base crumbled,almost trapping Breakdown, MicDrop Microzus,Megatron,StarScream and Skyquake under it if it weren't for Microzus,the other decepticons who stayed back were the ones who calculated and gave the others instructions where to go,Knockout only stayed because he couldn't risk scratching his paint job,there were two comms that were talking about something unrelated to the plan

"Alright when the base falls you quickly hold up the ceiling and-"

"the base is falling as we speak,we have to do this fast"

Remind him to close his eyes

They got out of the base,it crumbled just as they got out,if it weren't for Microzus's strength they would be specs of dust by now,SoundWave was comforting shockwave about the loss of the power supply,he really wanted to experiment with it,knockout is glad his Conjuixe is alive.

Remind him to close his eyes

Microzus forced herself to look angry so it would look real,hands into fists,flashing the sharp teeth, she wanted to make it look real

"RazorEzquivel,tell me why-if your plan really worked then we could've walked out there with the power supply"

"my lord I can explai-"

"Don't,you will not call me that anymore"

"I don't understand what your sayin-"

Remind him to close his eyes

Microzus gripped her servos on RazorEzquivel's shoulders so hard small leaks of energon could be seen flowing,the autobots have just arrived and are upset with the energon base being in shambles

Remind him to close his eyes

"you have failed me RazorEzquivel,you are no longer of use to me,besides shockwaves better at science than you are"

"What are you saying im-"

"Close your eyes HackRate,that way you don't have to see me hurt you"

A big bang,spilled energon everywhere,a bot on the ground with half his head blasted,terrified reactions,all so fast

"My lord,Why-"

"Don't.... Call me that,a lord would be ashamed of having a worshipper like you,you are banished from the decepticons,if i see you one more time i will permanently offline you"

The decepticons aren't the same without the small smart bit who would climb onto their leaders shoulder,the small bit who would make sure they get enough rest,the small bit who would share new information with them every day.

"Close your eyes HackRate"

The autobots are taking their time to adjust to the new member,some don't fully agree of straight away accepting him,though RazorEzquivel was never really an enemy to them as he was never part of the attackz that injured them,at least the autobots have a somewhat sane brainie now,

Ratchet is still pondering on how the frag he survived all that