#clearly the solution is to continue reading authors of color

[safirefire]

legendborn really is so perfect for every single person who reads fantasy about ancient magical systems and wonders how it’s remotely possible that every single person involved from the dawn of time is white and there’s only one system of magic practiced

[a-queer-seminarian]

Walter Brueggemann's Chosen? Reading the Bible amid the Israeli-Palestinian Conflict (2015)

I've been searching for biblical scholarship on disconnecting biblical Israel from the modern nation of Israel. It felt necessary to read Brueggemann's take, as he is one of the best-known Hebrew Bible scholars of our time. So for those interested, here are my thoughts! (Btw, I've posted this same piece on Medium if you prefer reading it there.)

My review in one sentence:

I did find this book helpful in articulating the distinctions between biblical Israel and modern Israel, as well as how both modern Israel and Christian Zionists have co-opted the biblical narrative to serve their own agendas;

however, I strongly disagree with Brueggemann's staunch support of modern Israel, which he maintains as he acknowledges that its military is vastly overpowered and that its treatment of Palestinians is unconscionable.

Summing up my summary:

If you want to know the key points Brueggemann makes without reading through the rest of this post, here they are:

How biblical Israel and modern Israel are not the same:

While biblical Israel was a theocracy relying on theological claims, modern Israel relies on military might and power politics (as well as support from Western powers like the United States).

Deuteronomy and the prophets emphasize that while God gave the Israelites the "promised land" unconditionally, their retaining of that land is conditional on whether they obey Torah. Modern Israel's violence against Palestine is absolutely not obedient to Torah, which emphasizes protection of "the other."

Other key points:

Trying to apply scripture to any modern issue is complex and risky, because scripture is an ancient collection of differing viewpoints; our own personal biases will color which biblical voices we uplift to further our own agendas.

Even so, taking all of scripture together, God's reach is clearly towards "the Other" — towards the most vulnerable of society — and our interpretation should reflect that. Ultimately, none of us should be able to morph biblical symbols or themes into an uncompromising ideology to justify our violence or bigotry.

Zionist Jews more or less hold that Judaism = Israel / the "promised" land. Other Jews emphasize that they are "people of the book" (Torah), which means that Judaism can be practiced anywhere!

Meanwhile, Christian Zionists co-opt Jewish Zionism to serve their own agenda to Catalyze The Eschaton lol (i.e. how to make the Second Coming of Christ happen; learn more about this at christianzionism.org). Christians also appropriate the biblical concept of Jews being God's chosen people for our own uses, which is supersessionist.

My full summary, key quotes, and longer review are below the readmore. Alternatively, read or share this piece as a Medium article.

I'm going to write about the stuff I actually found helpful in this book first, and then end with more critique of Brueggemann's personal politics. After all, I read this book for help with the biblical scholarship side of things, not for opinions about a "solution" to this issue, and the book did deliver on what I came to it for. Even so, awareness of the author's personal views is important in noticing where his scholarship leans towards that bias (as I believe Brueggemann would agree).

Book Summary:

Introduction: 

Brueggemann notes that "much has changed" since he wrote a previous book on this topic (The Land, 1977): since then, Israel has become an immense military power, has escalated its occupation of the West Bank, and continues to be "indifferent" to Palestinians' well-being.

Thus this new book aims to clarify that “...peace will come only with the legitimation of the political reality of both Israelis and Palestinians.”

Book thesis: a warning to and hope for Christians:

“It will not do for Christian readers of the Bible to reduce the Bible to an ideological prop for the state of Israel, as though support for Israel were a final outcome of biblical testimony.”

“It is my hope that the Christian community in the United States will cease to appeal to the Bible as a direct support for the state of Israel and will have the courage to deal with the political realities without being cowed by accusations of anti-Semitism.”

Chapter 1: Reading the Bible in the Midst of the Israeli-Palestinian Conflict

Chapter’s aim: determine how to read the Bible responsibly in the face of this conflict — can the Bible guide us at all here? Trying to apply scripture to any contemporary issue is risky, because the Bible’s multiple voices allows us to draw the conclusions we want to.

Modern Israel claims that God gave ancient Israel the “promised” land unconditionally, so that it remains promised to Jews today.

They’re drawing from the ancestral narratives of Genesis 

But other biblical voices hold a different point of view: Deuteronomy and the prophets understand the land as given unconditionally but held conditionally — if the people break their end of the bargain, they can (and eventually do!) lose the land.

Among the biblical authors reckoning with Judah’s fall, there are exclusionists and inclusionists

Ezra the exclusionist: “Ezra referred to the community as ‘the holy seed’ (9:2). That phrase intends a biological identity…” Ezra had foreign wives expelled in order to guarantee “the purity of the land and of Israelite society”; modern Israel favors this reading, uses it to argue for “one people in one land”

Post-exilic inclusionists pave the way for expressions of Judaism that welcome the other:

Jonah is sent to show God’s mercy to Nineveh, a major oppressor of Israel; Ruth the Moabite is part of David's line; Isaiah 56:1-8 radically welcomes foreigners & eunuchs [my personal fave passage in all of scripture btw]

So any arguments using one of these two voices tend to fail because the other one is also present in the text

However, throughout scripture God’s reach tends to be towards the other. Thus any view that excludes the other should be met with skepticism – more likely to be about our own fears and hopes “that serve self-protection and end in destruction”

“The Israeli-Palestinian conflict cannot be resolved until the human rights of the other are recognized and guaranteed. These human rights are demanded by sociopolitical reality. They are, moreover, the bottom line of Judaism that has not been preempted by Zionist ideology.”

Desmond Tutu: “...the liberation of Palestine will liberate Israel, too.”

Chapter 2: God’s Chosen People: Claim and Problem

The Hebrew Bible makes no sense if we ignore its claim that Israel is God’s chosen people — a claim which carries on into Judaism today. The chapter explores whether this chosenness is revocable and if not, who carries it today. Ultimately, it concludes that any “chosen” group must “choose beyond their chosenness” to end the violence.

At least 3 traditions in scripture imply that Israel is God's chosen, all without explaining why God chooses Israel — it's beyond explaining, doesn't need to be explained

Ancestral tradition of Abraham — God promises “to be God to you and to your children after you” (Gen. 17:7). “The drama of the book of Genesis, in each generation, is whether God will grant an heir who can carry the promise and live as God’s covenant partner.”

Exodus tradition — here God declares that “Israel is my firstborn son” (Exod. 4:22). Firstborn son = role of “special privilege and entitlement but also one of responsibility.”

Sinai tradition — “Israel is given opportunity to be God’s ‘treasured possession out of all peoples’ (Exod. 19:5).”

“In these traditions, however, the specific language of “chosen” is not exactly used. It remained for Deuteronomy, which represents perhaps a later tradition, to utilize the most direct and unambiguous rhetoric for Israel’s status as God’s chosen people: 

“For you are a people holy to the Lord your God; the Lord your God has chosen you out of all the peoples on earth to be his people, his treasured possession” (Deut. 7:6).

Deuteronomy gives a reason for this chosenness: it’s not because Israel is more numerous or righteous, but because God “set his heart” on Israel and “loved” Israel (7:7–8; 10:15). 

The exilic texts also reaffirm that Israel remains God’s chosen — beautiful in the face of all the seeming rejection of being humiliated and displaced.

But there are two big questions that problematize the chosenness that the biblical authors take for granted:

1. Is this chosenness conditional? Most biblical texts seem to assume it is unconditional and permanent; but places like Exodus 19:5 and parts of the prophets name a conditional if — that the people’s covenantal chosenness depends on their obedience to the Torah.

2. Has this theological claim morphed into an ideological claim that functions as self-justification? — particularly in the context of the modern state of Israel, but also…

Christians have appropriated the concept of being “God’s chosen”

The United States has too — we are the “city set on a hill” according to the first Puritan governor; we are God’s emancipated, coming from the “wilderness” of Europe to the “promised land” of the New World. And now we are Moses to the “benighted peoples” of the world, butting in with our military to “save” them.

Even liberation theology takes the concept of chosenness and applies it to the poor. “Jon Levenson, a noted Jewish interpreter, has protested against the notion of the poor as God’s chosen people, as though to usurp the claim from the Jews to that status.”

Another issue: what about the unchosen?

Genesis’ ancestral tradition is aware of other peoples, makes a place for them “as those who are blessed by the life of Israel”

Paul takes this “good news” that God’s promise reaches beyond Israel to argue for the “admission of Gentiles”

Prophets also explore this issue — through Amos 9:7 and 3:2 we find that Israel is “chosen for obedience but without monopoly of God’s saving deeds, especially when presumed upon.”

Ultimately, those who are “chosen” — be they Israel, USA, or church — must “choose beyond their chosenness” or expect present violence to yield to a future of endless violence.

Chapter 3: Holy Land?

Digging deeper into the biblical theme of land in the light of all that’s happening in Palestine. Even though it’s only a “small ingredient” in the current conflict, it is one that needs to be explored. Within Judaism, Zionists equate Judaism and the land, while other Jews focus on being "people of the book" (Torah), meaning that Judaism can be practiced anywhere!

Reiterates how “the land is given to Israel unconditionally, but it is held by Israel conditionally."

Adds that one thing that leads to disobedience, which then leads to land loss, is “the temptation to self-sufficiency” (drawing from Deut. 6:18)

Another interesting point is that the Torah, “the most authoritative textual tradition in the Hebrew Bible, ends before Israel enters the land (see Deut. 34:4). That is, Israel’s original or earliest tradition is not about having the land; it is about anticipating the land.”

Turns out that the prophets’ “if” is correct; the land is losable, as Israel and Judah do fall, with many Judeans deported

And yet — “The story does not end with land loss, displacement, and grief. Most stunningly, in this season of deeply felt abandonment there wells up a bold and vigorous reassertion of the land promise.”

The prophets argue that God will “reperform the land promise” 

One key question: how central and indispensable are the land and land promise for Judaism’s existence?

The Zionist movement argues Judaism = the land (disregarding the Deuteronomic if)

But in the 5th century BCE as Judaism was developing, different Jews had differing opinions; some exiles were not “smitten with” returning to the land.

“One compelling alternative to land theology is the recognition that Judaism consists most elementally in interpretation of and obedience to the Torah in its requirements of justice and holiness. Such intense adherence to the Torah can be done anywhere at all.”

[PS: if you're interested in an anti-Zionist Jewish view from the early 1900s, check out this article on the General Jewish Labour Bund]

Second key question: Is today’s Israel the biblical Israel?

No. While biblical Israel was a theocracy relying on theological claims, modern Israel relies on military might and power politics.

Furthermore, any appeal to theology for self-justification holds no weight among Israel’s “adversaries”; it’s just not compelling to anyone outside Zionism.

Chapter 4: Zionism and Israel

Opens with discussion of “Zion” as the poetic name for Jerusalem, has poetic force

The restoration of Zion is a primary theme in places like Second Isaiah

Delves into the history of Jewish Zionism, from the nineteenth century, through the Balfour Declaration, into 1948. [JVP has an article that delves into this history more thoroughly.]

By 1967, this ideology had “hardened” into something completely uncompromising, wanting Palestinians to just go away.

Differences between Jewish and Christian Zionism, and different branches under each umbrella

It seems like Brueggemann would call himself a Christian Zionist, of the kind that resists weird End Times versions of it, but wholeheartedly supports Israel even while insisting on critique of its violence…

His problem with Zionism isn’t that we shouldn’t have an ethnostate or whatever, but that Zion has been morphed from a biblical “symbol” into an uncompromising ideology, and thus Israel uses Zionism to claim itself beyond critique.

Brueggemann's closing statement: “...it is characteristically the ongoing work of responsible faith to make such a critique of any ideology that co-opts faith for a one-dimensional cause that is taken to be above criticism. Indeed, ancient prophetic assessments of the Jerusalem establishment were just such a critique against a belief system that had reduced faith to a self-serving ideology. Because every uncompromising ideology reduces faith to an idolatry, such critical work in faith continues to be important.”

___

Key Quotes

For even more excerpts from the book, visit this Google Doc.

On the complexity of biblical interpretation/application

“We may draw these conclusions about reading the Bible.

It is important in any case to recognize that the Bible refuses to speak in a single voice. It argues with itself, and we must avoid simplistic, reductionist readings of any ilk.

Any “straight-line” reading from ancient text to contemporary issues is sure to be suspect in its oversimplification. Such a reading disregards the huge impact of historical distance between the text and our current context.

Such a straight-line reading that ignores historical distance is most likely to be propelled by an ideology, that is, by a deeply held conviction that is immune to critical thought and is unswayed by argument, by reason, or by the facts on the ground. That is, it disregards complexities in the process of interpretation. A one-dimensional, uncritical appropriation of the ancient land promises for the state of Israel is exactly such a conviction that is immune to critical thought, reason, or facts on the ground. ...

...Tribalism, often in Christian practice expressed as sectarianism, tends to absolutize its claims to the exclusion of all else. The tribe or sect characteristically imagines that it has a final formulation, a final interpretation. Absolutist readings of the Bible lead to violent actions against one’s opponent…"

On the Land

“The dispute between Palestinians and Israelis is elementally about land and secondarily about security and human rights. ...while the state of Israel continues to 'negotiate' with the Palestinians, the dominant Zionist appeal to land promises continues to hold intransigently to the exclusionary claim that all the land belongs to Israel and the unacceptable other must be excluded, either by law or by coercive violence.” (ch. 1)

“As we ponder the grand sweep of this vision that runs from Abraham to King Cyrus of Persia, two questions arise: First, how central and indispensable are the land and the land promise for Judaism’s existence?  The contemporary Zionist movement would have us believe that Judaism is equated with the land and, consequently, with support for the state of Israel as the present embodiment of the land of promise. ...That approach, however, amounts to a particular interpretive trajectory that is not required by the tradition, and it disregards the Deuteronomic if: that the land is held conditionally. This interpretive position, like every interpretive position, requires a careful reading of carefully selected texts.  More crucial is the recognition that while the land tradition is of immense importance for the textual tradition, Judaism as it took form in the fifth century BCE was in fact not uniform and represented a variety of interpretive possibilities. Specifically, there were many Jews in exile who were not smitten with the land of Judah and who did not feel compelled by faith to return to the land. One compelling alternative to land theology is the recognition that Judaism consists most elementally in interpretation of and obedience to the Torah in its requirements of justice and holiness. Such intense adherence to the Torah can be done anywhere at all. Thus, land theology is, at least in some traditions of Judaism, relativized by the recognition that Judaism is a “religion of the book” (the Torah) and consists in the practice and interpretation of texts. Robert Alter has noted that Judaism is primarily a “culture of interpretation” that refuses absolutizing any conclusions from the text; we may assume that this includes absolutizing conclusions about the land…” (ch. 3)

Distinctions between Modern Israel & Biblical Israel

“...there is a huge difference between the ancient Israel of the biblical text and the contemporary state of Israel. While defenders of the state of Israel insist upon the identity of the two, many more-critical observers see that there is a defining difference between a covenant people and a state that relies on military power without reference to covenantal restraints.” (Q&A)

"...[T]he state of Israel can, like any nation-state, make its legitimate political claims and insist upon legitimate security. But appeal to the ancient faith traditions about land promise in order to justify its claims carries little conviction except for those who innocently and uncritically accept the authority of that ancient story. At most, appeal to the land tradition can “energize the base,” that is, evoke support from adherents to the ancient promise. Such an appeal, however, carries little if any force for any who are outsiders to that narrative. It is no claim to be used in negotiations because it is grounded in theological claims to which Israel’s adversaries will give no weight. ...The appeal to the biblical promise must simply be set alongside very old claims made by the Palestinians." (ch. 3)

On Chosenness — what about the "unchosen"?

“The matter of other peoples who are not chosen is a very important element in any talk about the chosen people. In the tradition of the ancestors in Genesis, there is clearly an awareness of the other peoples and an effort to make a place for them as those who are blessed by the life of Israel. ... One can, moreover, see at the edge of the Old Testament an inclusion of other peoples in the sphere of God’s attentiveness, an inclusion that intends to mitigate any exclusionary claim by Israel. In Amos 9:7, in which the prophet intends to critique sharply the pride of Israel, he makes a claim that God enacts exoduses for other peoples as well as for Israel:

Are you not like the Ethiopians to me, O people of Israel? says the Lord. Did I not bring Israel up from the land of Egypt, and the Philistines from Caphtor  and the Arameans from Kir?

In the later lines of this poem, the prophet names ancient Israel’s two most immediate enemies, the Philistines and the Arameans, as recipients of God’s deliverance. The text does not go so far as to name them as chosen of God, but the claim may be implied. Of course, it is this same Amos who says in his polemic against Israel:

You only have I known [chosen] of all the families of the earth; Therefore I will punish you for all your iniquities.” (3:2)

In this verse, the prophet acknowledges the singular chosenness of Israel, but it is that chosenness that evokes harsh divine judgment. The evident tension between Amos 9:7 and 3:2 indicates the edginess of the claim of chosenness, thus chosen for obedience but without monopoly of God’s saving deeds, especially when presumed upon. (ch. 2)

Making Room for the Other

“Welcome to the other appears to be a romantic dream in the world of real politics, and certainly current Israeli policy would find such openness to the Palestinians to be absurd. But if welcome to the other is considered romanticism, so ultimate exclusion of the other is a suicidal policy, because the other will not go away and cannot simply be wished away or forced away. As a result, the question of the other becomes the interpretive key to how to read the Bible. The other can be perceived, as in Zionist perspective, as a huge threat to the security of the state and the well-being of the holy seed. Conversely, the other can be perceived as a neighbor with whom to work at shalom.” (ch. 1)

Brueggemann's Suggestion for How Christians Should Respond to the so-called "Israeli-Palestinian Conflict"

“In the end, Israelis and Palestinians are finally neighbors and have long been neighbors. When ideology coupled with unrivaled power is preferred to sharing the neighborhood, the chance for neighborliness is forfeited. Christians must pay attention to the possibility for neighborliness and must refuse protection and support for neighborhood bullies. Christians must support political efforts to strengthen the hand of the “middle body” of political opinion among Israelis and Palestinians to overcome the dominance of extremists on both sides who seem to want war and victory rather than peace and justice. Christians must call for new thinking in the U.S. government and do some new thinking that no longer assumes the old judgments about the vulnerability of Israel.  Prophetic faith is characteristically contemporary in its anticipation of the purpose of God; it insists on truth-telling that is attentive to bodily suffering, and it refuses ideological pretenses. It will tell the truth in the face of distortions that come with ideological passion and unrestrained power. When truthfulness about human suffering is honored, new possibilities of a just kind can and do emerge. Thus, being able to differentiate between old mantras and urgent truthfulness is a beginning point for faithful engagement in the real world.” (Q&A)

“God’s Holy Mountain” by Oscar (Asher) Frohlich

___

Returning to My Disagreements with Brueggemann’s Politics

In the introduction to Chosen? (2015), Brueggemann alludes to his previous book on this topic, The Land (1977). He admits that that book needs revising, as it didn’t contend with Palestinians’ suffering under Israeli occupation. Yet he is quick to emphasize right off the bat (and in pretty much every chapter) that he continues to support the state of Israel wholeheartedly, considering its continued existence necessary for the security of Jews worldwide:

“Mindful of the long history of Christian anti-Semitism and the deep fissure of the Shoah [e.g. Holocaust], we have surely been right to give thanks for the founding of the state of Israel and the securing of a Jewish homeland. But the issues have altered dramatically as the state of Israel has developed into a major military power that continues administrative-military control of the Palestinian territories.” (Acknowledgements)

For alternative perspectives, I recommend anti-Zionist Jewish perspectives like here, and here, and here, and here. In short, shipping all Jews off to a settler colony is not the solution to bigotry and violence against Jews; instead, every culture actually dealing with its antisemitism is. 

(Then there are the glaring facts that Israel is racist about which Jews it prioritizes; has a long history of mistreating Shoah survivors; and discriminates against Jews who show support for Palestine. If an ethnostate is truly the only way to keep all Jews safe, Irael is majorly failing that assignment.)

But back to the book: Brueggemann takes for granted that modern Israel is the correct response to the problem of worldwide antisemitism — in essence, to what he calls the “continuing vulnerability of Jews.” Still, he sees that Israel’s military has “long since moved past the vulnerability of the beginning of a fragile state” (Q&A).

So keep the state, but reduce its military; that’s Brueggemann’s solution in a nutshell — at least insofar as he states it in this book. To be fair, this text’s goal isn’t to formulate an airtight “solution” to the violence against Palestine. Still, what solution Brueggemann does suggest in Chosen? can be summed up in this bit from the Q&A at the end:

“There is, in my judgment, no realistic hope for any two-state solution. For all of the pretense and obfuscation of Israel, it never intends to allow a viable Palestinian state, so two-state negotiations simply buy more time for the development and expansion of the state of Israel. 

It may be that the solution will be found in a one-state solution that insists upon well-protected human rights for Palestinians while the Israeli occupation is fully recognized. A settlement will require an even-handed engagement by the Great Powers (including the United States) as well as acts of greater courage and political will by the immediate parties to the conflict.”

Again, I know it’s not his goal to come up with a perfect solution, but I have so many questions about this version of a one-state solution. For one thing, will Palestinians be made full citizens of Israel in order to ensure their rights are protected? Or will they permanently be second-class (non-)citizens / trapped in this limbo of not being allowed to exist as their own recognized state? What about their right to self-representation? Furthermore, must Israel remain an ethnostate in order to be this supposed safe-haven for all Jews?

My last comment on Brueggemann’s perspective is that, if he does understand that Israel is the oppressor of the Palestinians, he still — at least as of the writing of this book in 2015 — has work to do in un-internalizing a mindset that pretends the two sides are equally responsible for this “conflict.” Indeed, the use of the term “Israeli-Palestinian Conflict” in the book’s very title highlights this issue — this term implies equal footing between the two sides, rather than making it clear that Israel is the aggressor and any violence that Palestinians respond with is resistance to that aggression, apartheid, ethnic cleansing, and yes, even genocide. 

Along with the book’s title, other comments throughout the text imply equal footing between Israel and Palestine. Here are two examples, both from chapter 1:

“…Israeli Zionists want Palestinians to go away. Conversely many Arabs wish Israel would go away. But they will not.”

Palestinians’ and Israelis’ fear of the other, said to be grounded in the Bible, has been transposed into a military apparatus that is aimed at the elimination of the other…”

Both of these comments fail to emphasize the different sources of these wishes and fears for Israelis versus Palestinians. For Israel, the wish that Palestinians would “go away” is a desire to take the land from —  to literally seize and dwell in the homes — Palestinians. Meanwhile, any Palestinians who wish Israelis would just “go away” are wishing to be left alone in their own homes that they built, the agricultural lands they have long tended.

Same with their respective “fear of the other”: Israel spins propaganda to represent Palestinians as hateful and antisemitic, a threat to Israeli’s peace, taking incidents of resistance out of context to do so; Palestinians’ fear of Israelis is based in real and recurring incidents of ethnic cleansing, imprisonment and torture, and daily deprivations and insults.

To speak of the desires and fears of both sides as if they are equivalent, without carefully emphasizing the power dynamic between oppressor/oppressed, colonizer/colonized, is negligent and dangerous. It does nothing to “take seriously” “the brutalizing, uncompromising policy of Israel toward the Palestinian people and their political future” (Q&A) as Brueggemann purports as his aim.

This article, “The Myth of the Cycle of Violence,” discusses the problems with treating Israeli and Palestinian violence equally.

Wrapping up

I am very curious to know whether and how Brueggemann’s perspective between the time of this book’s publication in 2015 and today. How did he respond to the explosion of violence in 2021? To October 7, 2023, and Israel’s ongoing bombardment of Gaza? Does he continue to believe that the state of Israel is necessary for Jewish well-being worldwide? I only did a cursory search; if anyone has any information on Brueggemann’s views today, please do share.

Or if you have thoughts of Brueggemann's take, share that too!

Finally, if anyone has suggestions for more texts I should read as I explore the relationship between scripture and modern Israel’s ongoing occupation of Palestine, let me know!

Stay tuned for more summaries and reviews. In the meantime, one source I recommend but won’t be reviewing is Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg’s recent newsletter post “Debunking the conquest narrative.”

[hyungieyoongi]

Found: “Run Away to You” Part 1

Let me go.

He was, without a doubt, your hardest goodbye.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Former Actress!Reader 

Word Count: 1.6K

Genre: Fluff + Angst 

Series Masterlist: Run Away to You 

Premise: You ran away from your acting career one year ago, disappearing from the spotlight without a trace. No one from your past life knew where to find you. On the anniversary of your disappearance, your carefully constructed reality is shattered.

// Part 2

---

Looking at the calendar on your wall, the date glared back at you, red marker encircling the number as if you could forget it.

One year. It had been one whole year since you ran away from your old life.

Happy anniversary to me, you thought bitterly.

It hadn’t been easy–no, it had been tactful, strategic. Your best friend-turned-publicist, Marianne, had programmed your social media accounts to simultaneously deactivate. The phone you used for “celebrity” contacts and business-related matters was permanently turned off, stashed away in the back of a drawer. You had already moved all your belongings to a new apartment on the other side of the city, address undisclosed to everyone except Marianne and your parents on the other side of the world. Everything had been in place for you to completely disappear.

You were instructed to lay low for at least one entire month, groceries delivered to your door under a fake name with Marianne’s credit card. You had cut your hair, once long and flowing, to your collarbone. It was often hidden under a baseball hat when you went to your favorite café for a coffee or took your elderly neighbor’s dog for walks around the park. You were completely off the radar, just as intended.

That didn’t stop the world from trying to track you down for a while. Fan blogs speculated where you could have gone, and tabloids splashed old pictures of you on their covers with speculative headlines. Your parents even had to install a state-of-the-art security system in your hometown in the States after a magazine found out where you grew up and tried to break into their backyard. But you weren’t naïve enough to go back home; that was the first place people would expect you to go. Instead, you were hidden in plain sight in Seoul, just sans the flashes of the cameras following you. Without the designer clothes or big sunglasses hiding your features, you looked just like anyone else. Undetectable.  

You had grown up in America, studying acting and Korean during your time at university with Marianne. Upon graduation, you landed a major role in a K-drama, uprooting your entire life to move to Seoul. For five years, you lived in the spotlight under the industry’s microscope. People said you were living the dream, but it started to feel more like a nightmare. It became overwhelming, suffocating.

When the show wrapped after three seasons, you knew it was time. You decided to run. You just wish you didn’t have to hurt anyone else in the process. Especially him.

You had instructed Marianne to give him a letter explaining why you had to go away, but she never heard back from him.

Let me go, Yoongi. Don’t look for me. This is for the best. I will always care about you. – Y/N

The words were emblazoned in your memory, your eyes tearing up at the thought of him reading the words you wrote to him.

Let me go.

He was, without a doubt, your hardest goodbye.  

Your cell phone rang, distracting you from the memories that plagued your thoughts today.

“Good afternoon, dearie!” Marianne chirped on the other end of the phone. “It’s a big day for you. The first half of your manuscript came back from the publisher, so get excited to do some editing!” Hiding away from the world for a year gave you a lot of time to think. For you, that meant time to write. Marianne seamlessly transitioned from being your publicist for your acting career to managing your budding career as an author, even helping you pick out a pseudonym.  

“That’s great news,” you mumbled in reply, taking a long sip of your coffee, the bitterness blooming on your tongue.

“Are you alright? You sound, I don’t know, a little off,” Marianne questioned, concern lacing her normally peppy tone.

“It’s been one year, Marianne,” you replied, knowing she’d understand.

“Oh my,” Marianne said after a beat of silence. “It completely slipped my mind. How are you holding up?”

“I’m alright just a little…weird, I guess? I’m so relieved to have my own life again. But I’m also just kind of mourning my old life today.”

“Oh babe, I’m so sorry you’re going through this. Do you want me to come over after work–we can order takeout and watch a movie? Take your mind off things?” Marianne offered.

“No, that’s okay. I think I’m just going to spend the day doing some self-care. We’re meeting tomorrow to discuss the manuscript timeline, right?”

“Yes, of course! I’ll be at the café at 11:00 a.m. Are you sure you’ll be okay today?” Marianne asked, clearly not convinced that you were telling the truth about being alright.

“I’ll call you if I need you, I promise,” you reassured her.

“Night or day, Y/N, you know I’m here.”

After you both said your goodbyes and ended the call, you started to feel restless, needing something to take your mind off the date and the competing emotions swirling in your brain. You decided fresh air and comfort food were the solution.  

Grabbing your keys off the table by the front door, you slipped on your shoes, heading for the local corner store in your neighborhood, mindlessly forgetting your hat on the hook on the wall.

---

Mask pulled over the lower half of his face to conceal his appearance, Yoongi slipped into a nearby corner store, saving himself from the prying eyes that seemed to be examining him a little too closely from across the street.

He had snuck out of the studio without security, wanting to just take a moment to breathe all to himself. He had driven around Seoul with no destination in mind, eventually stopping in a neighborhood he found with a quiet park for a walk. His thoughts betrayed him as they kept going back to you and the letter he received one year ago, now crumpled in the top righthand drawer of his desk. He didn’t need to pull it out today to remember exactly what it said.

Let me go.

Once he read those words, he had stopped reading, smashing the paper together between his fists in frustration, shoving it in the drawer. It had stayed unopened since last year.

Yoongi aimlessly wandered through the aisles of the store, his mind continuously returning to that drawer. He had worked so hard to stop thinking about it–about you–over the past year. Today was a harsh reminder that you were still on his mind. He had stopped calling a long time ago, knowing that you wouldn’t pick up or return his calls. Sometimes though, if he had a little too much to drink with the boys, he’d call your number just to hear your voice on the voicemail recording. He didn’t tell anyone about those late-night calls.

Rounding the aisle corner, he collided with someone, knocking the snacks they had bundled in their arms to the ground. They immediately knelt down, trying to collect them.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Here, let me help you,” Yoongi offered, starting to lean over.

“Oh, no that’s okay I’ve got it.” Yoongi froze, his body going rigid. That voice. Your voice. He hadn’t heard it in-person in over a year. The sweetness of it rang through his ears, reminiscent of the voicemail he knew by heart.

It was you. After all this time.

---

Standing up with your snacks back safely in your grasp, you looked at the man in front of you who seemed to be barely breathing.

You were about to ask if he was alright, but then you recognized it. The black hat–the one with two rings on the edge that he would often wear when he went out. His mask had slipped below his nose, his pale cheeks slightly squished under the pressure of the fabric. Black hair poked out from underneath the hat, falling onto his forehead and into his dark brown eyes. They were wide with shock.  

You felt the color rush from your face, hands beginning to shake because this wasn’t supposed to happen.

You were safe. Safe in your self-made bubble away from the world.

Until he found you. And it burst.

You contemplated turning around, pretending you hadn’t recognized him. Leave him again. But you knew that wasn’t an option now. You had to face the thing you were most scared of–him.

“Yoongi, I-” your voice cracked, barely above a whisper.

“Your hair,” Yoongi remarked, cutting you off, tone flat and quiet. “You cut your hair.” His eyes narrowed at you.

You swallowed the lump that had lodged itself in your throat. “Just...wanted a change, I guess.”

Hide. You wanted to hide.

“You seem to have gone through a lot of changes,” Yoongi said, bitterness seeping into his voice.

You winced at the implication of his words. You took a deep breath to try and collect yourself before replying.

“Can we...can we not do this here?”

“Fine.”

“I live around the corner. Maybe we could just...talk?” you asked, averting your eyes to the ground. When you didn’t hear a reply, you looked back up to Yoongi, who nodded at you once in agreement.

Abandoning your would-be purchases, you walked out the front door of the store, Yoongi silently following behind you. You felt his eyes burning into your back.

Just put one foot in front of the other, you thought to yourself.

As you and Yoongi silently walked to your apartment, neither of you noticed the camera pointed at the two of you, snapping the photo that would change everything.

// Part 2

---

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[bleachhaven]

Soutaicho’s Secret Admirer (Shunsui x Reader) — Part 3/6

Author’s Note:

I know I said I’d have something for you this weekend, but all the love ya’ll showed Part 2 of this story had me super inspired that I just sat down and wrote this out. After all, feedback is what fuels writers xD There should be a few more parts left after this. I know I know...the 2-parter story has evolved into a 5-parter :P

First off, thank you so much for all the love! Secondly, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. 

A very special thanks to @sexintheseireitei​ for all the encouraging words! This chapter is dedicated especially for you!

--

Read Part 1 and Part 2 first...

As much as Nanao-chan strictly insisted that today was just like any other day, the bits of pink and red popping up all over the black and white of the seireitei said otherwise. Of course, Squad 1 was devoid of such nonsense, despite Shunsui's several clandestine operations to host a party in the 1st for the last decade. He had been sternly thwarted by his fuktaicho who did not believe this day to hold any meaning at all.

Maybe that's why it was that much more fun to bother her thoroughly with something she would definitely think to be too extravagant.

"Happy Valentine's Day, my sweet, sweet, Nanao-chan," Shunsui said with a cheeky smile, plopping the gift down on her desk.

She stared at the little teddy-bear donned in red bows and holding a red plushy heart saying "sweet, sweet, Nanao-chan!"

Her gaze turned upwards towards him. "This is a highly inappropriate gift to give to your fuktaicho."

"Ah, but we are practically family. And you are my sweet, sweet, Nanao-chan after all..."

"Hmm..." was all she said in response.

Even if she said she hated the gift, she dared not move it. She allowed the fluffy thing to take space on her desk and carried on working.

Shunsui continued to stare at her, waiting impatiently and expectantly. She continued to look over another expense report from the 11th for property damage, but Shunsui didn't move.

Finally she looked up. "Did you need something?"

He pouted at her. "Did Nanao-chan forget?"

She wanted to pretend and feign ignorance but she just couldn't do it. She has clearly gone soft in the past couple of years if his pouting face could make her cave this easily.

"Fine," she sighed, and reached into her desk drawer. In her hand was an assorted box of chocolates all complete with a white ribbon tied into a bow. "Happy Valentine's Day, Taicho," she said.

"Why, thank you, Nanao-chan! You really shouldn't have," he said making Nanao snort a bit. He was already opening it as he sauntered towards his side of the office.

On top of his desk was...well, nothing but paperwork, and he had to say he was just a little bit disappointed. He had been wondering what his beloved Secret Admirer would give him this Valentine's Day. Truthfully, it was all he had been  looking forward to this week. But there was no love letter hidden beneath other official mail or left on top of his window sill.

He sat down at his desk and pulled out his latest project. He popped in one of Nanao-chan's chocolates, the taste of salted caramel teasing his taste buds, and spread out the fancy lavender colored paper.

After all, she wasn't the only one with a way of words.

Even after becoming the Soutaicho, he continued to write a few chapters for "Rose-Colored-Path." Sure, that was mostly erotica but writing a love letter couldn't be that difficult, could it?

He already had a bit written out. He was still trying to figure out how to tell this sweet Secret Admirer he would want to get to know her, without making it sound like either its a command from the Soutaicho, or as if he was a complete and utter lecher trying to score a night or two of fun.

Then of course there was the bigger problem. How in the world was he to get this love letter to her? He still had no clue who she was let alone if she was actually serious about the things she said. It was both frustrating and romantic.

Right now, as things were, it was mostly frustrating.

It was in times like this that he desperately wished Juu was around. He was certain his best friend would have had some kind of solution or at least some words of wisdom to offer to this heartbreaking dilemma. Or maybe he would have admonished Shunsui for falling for someone he hadn't even seen yet. With Juu gone, and with the position he now held, he had no one to talk to about things that bothered him.

He had no peers after all. Being the man at the top was not easy. He knew it would be a difficult job when he stepped up to it, but he had no idea that it would be this lonely.

All of his quiet sighing and restless shuffling naturally drew Nanao's attention.

"How difficult is it to read through a missive and stamp your seal of authority?" Nanao asked, stepping up to his desk. He tried to hide what he was working on, but Nanao's sharp eyes would not be waylaid. "Unless...you are not working on the paperwork as you were supposed..."

"No, no!" Shunsui insisted, knowing the lavender paper was peeking through his hands. "It's just a bit of difficult paperwork. Strictly official business, I assure you, my dear Nanao-chan."

"Oh I see," she said, and Shunsui hoped she really didn't see at all.

"What is it?" he asked warily.

She had a strange smile on her face. One that had Shunsui wanting to run for cover. It did not bode well when Nanao-chan bared her teeth like that.

"Does this have anything to do with...your Secret Admirer perhaps?"

Shunsui could swear he tried to remain expressionless as to not give anything away, but maybe his heart stopped a little."I don't know what you are talking about."

She raised a brow at him. "Really? Do you really think anything would get by me in this office? That I wouldn't notice the fancy little letters you've been hiding from me?"

"You knew?" Shunsui asked, a bit shocked. And here he was thinking he was being so hush hush about the whole thing.

Nanao rolled her eyes and returned to her desk. "It offends me that you thought I didn't."

Interesting turn of events this turned out to be. He couldn't help but wonder. If Nanao-chan did indeed know all about his Secret Admirer...maybe...

"Do you know who it is?"

Nanao, who had picked up her paperwork again, smiled down at the form before her. "Maybe I do, maybe I don't," she said non-commitedly.

"Please, Nanao-chan! Don't be so mean to your Taicho. Just tell me."

She shook her head, denying his request. "I'm not telling you anything about anything. Now, please either do your work, or run along and let me do my work in peace."

"So mean," Shunsui mumbled, picking up the brush once more and dipping it in ink.

However, the whole conversation planted a terrible thought in his head. What if there really was no Secret Admirer? What if it was some elaborate prank on the poor lonely Soutaicho by someone? Maybe the SWA was having a laugh. He wouldn't put it past Matsumoto-san honestly. Or even his own Nanao-chan. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. And the more it made sense, the more it made his mood plummet.

But he didn't want to believe it. He longed for these letters to be true, for it was too late now. He was halfway there...falling for a nameless, faceless woman who had romanced and seduced him with just a sweet words. How cruel would it be for it to now turn out to be nothing more than a prank?

A few minutes passed by, the silence broken only by the scratch of brush on paper. Then a commotion outside startled Shunsui out of his reverie.

A sharp knock, and a bid to enter, was followed by an officer of the 1st relaying some strange information of something or the other that Squads 11 and 12 had gotten up to. A fight or a brawl.

Nanao sighed, standing up from her desk. "Not again."

"It's alright, Nanao-chan. I'll take care of it. You carry on with whatever it is that you were doing," Shunsui said making a move towards the door already. His mood was feeling low and this was the perfect excuse to get out of the office for a while.

Once he was gone, Nanao cleared up the completed paperwork on his desk to be sent to the relevant divisions. If the little lavender paper got stuffed between some forms and approvals, it was purely an accident. If that specific set of forms ended up in Squad 13, it was surely unintentional. If it was found by the third seat of Squad 13 it was only because their squad was without a fuktaicho still and all the paperwork fell upon her.

Nanao definitely couldn't have predicted any of that after all. But then again...Ise Nanao almost always knew exactly what was going on, did she not?

—

Shunsui was in a glum mood when he finally returned to the office. Nanao had left a message with another officer to let him know that she had a SWA meeting so she would be leaving the office a bit earlier than usual to attend that before the Valentine’s Day Party at the 8th.

He almost thought to go straight to said party. Lisa had continued with his silly tradition as the current Taicho of Squad 8, and she went all out. He dared not be too late and risk all the good sake provided generously by Squad 6, and the cellars of  Kuchiki manor itself, running out. But he had to finish his love letter, even if he knew he might never get to send it to the relevant individual...if there even was an individual in the first place.

When he stepped in, he couldn't see the lavender paper on his desk. Truth be told, he couldn't see anything on his desk at all.

It was covered with a huge, and by huge meaning gigantic, bouquet of red roses. He shunpoed to see if there was a card left for him, and there definitely was.

Dear Shunsui,

I have to say I don't need a special day out of the year to show you how much you mean to me. Still I know how much you enjoy this day. I used to love the parties you threw back then. Yadomaru Taicho carries on the traditions but I feel it's not just the same. Not without you.

Every day feels like a day dedicated to love when thoughts of you haunt me always...but what a beautiful way to be haunted indeed.

Happy Valentine's Day, Shunsui!

These roses may one day fade, but my love for you never will. I've loved you for a lifetime already, and I know I would love you for another lifetime more.

These are chocolates I made especially for you, infused with your favorite sake, just the way you like it. Every time you taste one, I hope you'd think of me thinking of how much I yearn to taste you.

With love,

Your Secret Admirer

He picked up the box of chocolates he hadn't noticed earlier as it was hidden behind the elaborate bouquet of roses. It was an elegant box with a pretty pink print of sakura blossoms, tied together with a pink bow. It almost looked too pretty to undo. Almost.

He slowly opened it and popped a cute heart-shaped chocolate into his mouth, savoring the taste of delicious chocolate mixed with the mild bite of the sake. It tasted absolutely divine.

He was floored. If this was a prank, it was truly an unnecessarily elaborate one.

But he allowed himself to cherish this moment in the solitude of his now quiet office. Handmade chocolates and flowers...it was something he would do for someone he was romancing. Now to be romanced by someone so extravagantly, it felt truly amazing. He couldn't believe someone made these with her own hands just for him. He didn't think he had something so sweet done for him in a very long time...maybe not forever.

He was the one who had always played the role of the romantic, the seducer, the lover...it did indeed feel nice to have this kind of charm turned on him.

But as much as he devoured the attention, he also felt strangely dismayed. Instinctively, he was a giver. It applied to his family and friends, and it definitely applied to his love life. Even if it was a summer fling, he still treated his companions with respect and adoration. In whatever way possible, he tried to give everything he could to those he loved and valued. It was not in him to not reciprocate. He didn't know how to not be a giver. It wasn't in his nature.

This time, he truly desperately wanted to shower his admirer with so much love and affection, and it killed him inside to not know who she was...

—

Read Part 4 next!

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[writingwithcolor]

First of all, thank you for this blog, it has been really helpful for me - also thank you for the efficient navigation. Now to my question: I'm toying with the idea of a white OC who has (or earns) the power to basically alter the structure of things and wants to use that to help with world hunger. They gotta see what they change, so they have to visit the places. They don't want to be hailed a white savior, and change their look - should I use obvious fantasy colors like grey or purple?

Solving World Hunger: Changing Skin to Fantasy Color to Avoid the White Savior

My take: this is absolutely positively going to disrespect Indigenous populations, so long as you have an outsider come in and do the thing. This reads as extremely Western-centric and reminds me of misguided “international development” students who think that just because they have a degree in solving global scale problems, it means they can be experts.

See, the thing about sustainable food practices is, the Indigenous populations of the area have already come up with pretty good solutions. They’ve lived in the landscape for thousands of years, after all, and were pretty scientific and focused on long-term gains instead of short-term profit. It’s about as close to perfect as multiple millennia of improving and testing can do.

It’s colonialist to erase culture in the name of “betterment”

Hunter/gatherers don’t always capitalistically “maximize” their food sources in ways Westerners recognize, but it’s sustainable has been part of their culture for thousands of years. Are you going to allow them to continue their practices, or are you going to say that their culture is wrong and they must be assimilated into agriculture (that might actually be completely unsustainable even if done by magic but you won’t see the effects for 50+ years)?

Anthropologists main role over the past few years have been to elevate the voices of Indigenous people who know what works best for the area they’ve been living in for generations. Outsiders, even the most well-educated outsiders, are going to get it wrong.

You can’t make them Indigenous to get around this, because Indigenous people are not a monolith. 

Polynesian practices won’t work in sub-sahara Africa, Iroquois practices won’t work in the Amazon, etc. If you think that one ethnicity can solve the globe’s problems, you need to revisit the concept of expertise.

Eco-fascism is also a thing that happens in environmentalism very quickly, in the form of only certain types of food production/crops are “allowed” to thrive, and capitalism does not like sustainability because sustainability doesn’t exactly turn a profit. The best way to use land is often “inefficient” in the short term, but in the long term will provide a sustained food source even if that system looks much different from what we know.

The Indigenous populations around the globe have already had to deal with people who say their way of life is wrong, which your character is going to end up doing if they are the ones who decide what “the best” is. The Inuit are a fairly high-profile example, with how their seal and whale hunt is targeted; the North is such a place that seal and whale hunting is necessary, agriculture is impossible in the way we know it, and what the North needs is global warming to drastically reverse+ colonizers to stop messing with their ability to eat and for-fun hunters never setting foot in the Arctic again.

The problem isn’t the character’s skin tone. The problem is the fact they believe they can be an authority, when they cannot be at such a scale.

Decolonizing > “Fixing”

I would suggest having your character do decolonization work instead of “fixing” work. Decolonization means dismantling capitalism, restructuring agriculture/horticulture to focus on local species designed to live in the region, allowing populations to return to hunter/gatherer ways, removing invasive species (like the wrong species of earthworms in North America, which actually would need magic to fix), and restoring sovereignty of Indigenous peoples. It also means allowing greenhouses and a degree of sustainable supply chain for those with allergies who can’t eat local.

Indigenous peoples need to be centred in sustainable farming and animal husbandry practices. Their voices and their practices are what need to be elevated, instead of an outsider trying to guess what’s best in such a short period of time.

This means white people will be uncomfortable. 

Because white people do not like to give up leadership positions. They don’t like being told they need to let go of power and remove themselves from authority. But they are not the authority on how best to work lands that they have only seen as capitalistic gains. Indigenous people are.

If you want to see the potential journeys this character can undergo, read Colette’s post below.

~ Mod Lesya

Readers will view your character as white

Even as a fantasy color, your “raceless” MC will be assigned white by the majority of your readers unless you put in work to indicate otherwise. 

To the story’s world they might be an alien of sorts. To us, they are another white person who is saving the world. 

White is seen as the default when you leave it to fill-in-the-blank. Race coding (adding details that would imply they’re from a specific race, ethnic background or culture) is how one avoids this.

Directions you could take 

There’s a few ways you could go about this.

A. Make them an actual alien.

You could make them an alien, and actually develop an alien culture that does not parallel or borrow enough from specific cultures to imply they’re a human race equivalent. You would have to work pretty hard at this, as the elements you choose might come from existing regions and cultures. For example, a lot of “neutral” fantasy places are clearly coded with a European flair and no indication that they’re a Person of Color, thus implying white European descent. Then you’re back to square one with white-coded Alien solving the world’s problems. 

B. Keep them white.

You could keep them white, but face the implications within the story’s world narrative and the perspective of readers. 

Its a heavily discussed topic here, so you’ll find many resources.

White Savior WWC Posts:

How to Avoid Glorifying White Characters

The Mighty Whitey: How to not have a Colonialist Character

Writing With Color - White Savior Tag

The Khalessi Problem (Game of Thrones)

Image: Game of Thrones, the TV series. White woman being lifted up and surrounded by tan and brown-skinned people. Minor spoilers will be discussed below. 

Now, I know you don’t want a scene like the one pictured above. That’s why you’re considering they disguise themselves as a fantasy race. But there are some implications that come with a white person who snaps their fingers and solves a community’s problems like it was nothing. 

“What, like it’s hard to solve world hunger?”

On the show, she is pretty much worshiped here, but does disrespect their people enough to lose the majority of their respect and be seen as the outsider coming into their lives as she is. 

Something similar could happen where she is confronted with unintentional consequences of getting involved. There may be some backlash, mixed feelings, making it so your MC is not completely worshiped for their actions. 

What about all of the efforts that people in the community made before your character came along? Might they confront your character, and how would they feel about them? 

What if solving world hunger came with a price, and there were other issues that cropped up as a result?

What if the job is not done? As if they helped get it started, but maintaining keeping the world feed isn’t as “snap and done” as it seemed and opened up a new layer of problems that people have to deal with?

Think of how in some tales, when you get your wish from the genie, it may be answered almost too literally and the effects can be disastrous.

C. Make them a Person of Color. 

This could still lead to issues too, similar to ones you’d find with the white savior. Just because someone is a POC doesn’t mean they’re immune to disrespecting other cultures and lifestyles, or of patronizing people. 

More reading:

Is there such thing as the White Savior syndrome with a Black main character?

~Mod Colette

[secretshinigami]

Title: Zombie Note Author: @izaori For: @llawlietofficial Pairings/Characters: Light Yagami, Ryuk, L, Matsuda, mentions of other characters Rating/Warnings: Teen, nongraphic violence, potentially unsettling descriptions of zombies (the effects of death on the human body are interesting, right? Now make that corpse jiggle) Prompt: Light didn’t read the fine print on the death note and now everyone he killed using it has turned into a zombie Author’s notes: Interesting idea! I wanted to explore Japanese folklore in either the fanart you requested or fanfic but I quickly discovered that these ideas are popular because they are specifically western. That being said, I tried to incorporate a couple cultural things since Death Note is so Japanese culture heavy, and I figured it would make sense if something like a “zombie note” happened would have something related, too. Then I got wrapped up in the details… I hope you like reading. It’s much more than 750 words. Thanks for the fun idea! It was a great last prompt to go out on! I wanted to do the fanart but it just wasn’t coming out right. Bonus sketch at the bottom based on those requests, though. Mods feel free to ditch that if you want just the fanfic.

—————————–

There’s a saying that life doesn’t always go as planned. Light Yagami, top student in the country and owner of a death note, knows this very well. He’s quickly learned that sometimes death doesn’t go as planned, either.

With someone more average, less motivated, maybe even scared and cowardly, there could have been minimal damage. An incident or two at most, enough to be written off as something silly like someone eating bath salts. Unfortunately for Light, and for people around the world, the young man had written names of hundreds if not thousands of criminals in the span of a week, along with scheduling many more to die that he cannot reverse. Death cannot be erased.

News of the first revival popped up in Japan, of course. Light had tried to space out the deaths enough that authorities could keep up with the stream of dead bodies, but there was bound to be a build up at first as society gets adjusted to a new, less crime ridden world. In a morgue somewhere, apparently one of the first criminals he had killed as a test subject got up from the table. The previously dead man scared the undertaker out of his mind, reaching out for him, clearly wanting to take a bite–!

It really was a stroke of luck that the undertaker had already sewn the corpse’s mouth shut using wire. After getting a quick yet confused grasp on the situation, the undertaker took the nearby fire extinguisher and made the corpse still once more.

News got out fast across the world. Dead bodies coming back to life. Unfortunately, not many people were nearly as lucky as the undertaker. Those killed by the zombies were turned into zombies themselves so long as they were salvageable. The very smallest relief is that the zombies seemed to ignore small children.

Light paces around his room, death note on his desk, untouched. It was obvious to him from the first occurrence but even the news is broadcasting what everyone is thinking now. Kira has created zombies. Any of the praise he had previously is gone, replaced with fear and disgust. Only a select few loons are absurd enough to support someone turning criminals into zombies! A few minutes pass, and Ryuk laughs, breaking the tense silence.

“This is funny to you, Ryuk?” Light asks, tone sharp. He stops in his tracks, glare icy.

Ryuk stares at him, unblinking. Can a shinigami even blink? “Very,” Ryuk states, “since I thought you read all the rules.”

“None of the rules say anything about zombies!”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Light.” Ryuk floats over, snickering to himself, and flips open the death note. He points to a seemingly blank page on the back. Upon closer inspection, in a different more similarly colored ink, there is a rule that clearly states that humans written in the death note by another human that have died will come back as zombies after 72 hours from their time of death, provided their body is intact enough to be reanimated. Not only that, but a second rule states that these reanimated humans are able to do the same to other humans with the same restrictions.

Light can’t help but gawk at the hard to notice rules. He had been so careful to read over the rules before, but had missed this. Shameful trickery. Ryuk laughs again, watching the gears turn in Light’s head. These people are already dead, the death note can’t kill them again. Even if it could, they’d simply be zombies another time over.

~

Meanwhile, government officials that had already been pointing fingers about conspiracies on the deaths of criminals across the globe are now making much more serious accusations. This has now escalated from planned death to some kind of biowarfare, involving what is assumed to be a state of not actual death followed by this zombified state. There are arguments, with some people insisting that these are genuine zombies, not flukes. These people would be right.

L sits in solitude, listening through his computer to the chaos in Interpol. This Kira person, was this their intention all along? It’s not the feeling L had first gotten from them, but it had also only been a week since the Kira murders started. For all he knew, Kira could have planned this from the beginning. L feels rather confident that this was not, in fact, Kira’s goal, for if he was Kira and wanted to bring around the death of many people to become zombies, he wouldn’t have picked criminals. There would have been some overlap with criminals for sure, but just criminals? Not a chance.

Watari brings in L over the conference call, and L lays down the law. To prevent as much further tragedy as possible, no more reporting crime as much as possible. In fact, try to keep everything on paper. On the possibility that these aren’t genuine zombies, a cure for this zombified state should be researched. Furthermore, the finger pointing needs to stop. No country would have willingly inflicted this upon themselves along with the rest of the world. It goes on similarly with L heading to Japan.

~

Just how many criminals did Light already sentence to death? Pages upon pages, names and names, all over the world criminals continue to die. All over the world, corpses begin to reanimate. In more fortunate, more savvy places, people have already begun cremating all the corpses to circumvent the problem. It’s hard for a zombie to happen if it’s a pile of ash. Some places, however, are already under total lockdown. Mass zombie infestations turning people left and right.

Light pours over ideas, drilling Ryuk for answers, but Ryuk doesn’t give. He laughs, giving vague responses and going on about how interesting humans can be in a crisis. Light has had to completely halt his plans in cleansing the earth of criminals. By the sound of it, he won’t be able to continue his plans at all. The death note was just a farce, a false hope. Something designed to be dangled in front of his face like bait that he took like a starving fish.

“If I’m the one who created these zombies, shouldn’t I be able to control them? Since I’m able to control the actions of people before their death, to an extent.”

“No,” Ryuk laughs, “You can’t control a thing. This isn’t about you, Light. The power isn’t yours. You’re just using it.”

Of course. To a shinigami, to Ryuk, this is all just a funny game. Light feels burned by something he didn’t fully understand the scope of to begin with. It truly wasn’t his power, but he felt it was given to him with purpose. Bestowed upon him by some divine intervention because he is able to sway fate with a written name.

~

Zombies. Walking the streets, drudging, semi-intelligent despite being functionally brain dead. Varying degrees of rotted bodies. It’s funny and unfortunate, really, because one would think that a lockdown because of an actual zombie outbreak would mean people would stay inside as much as possible. That’s not the case.

“The government can’t take away my freedom!”

“The zombies are misunderstood!”

“There are no zombies!”

An actual zombie apocalypse could be in the works and there are people denying the existence of the zombies. Some people believe the zombies are real but straight up don’t care whatsoever. Then there are the people who think of the zombies in almost an animalistic sense, thinking that since they were once human they shouldn’t be killed again even though they are actively trying to eat at and therefore turn more humans.

It’s impressive. It makes Light want to double down and get rid of criminals more, give people a reason to think more clearly, but the more he tries to create that ideal world the more damage he’ll do.

L’s solution is simple, after an autopsy. Or vivisection, depending on how one would argue the inspection. The zombies are just animated corpses. It isn’t a disease. It isn’t a mass case of doctors and undertakers around the world collectively thinking all these bodies are corpses. Something impossibly otherworldly must be happening right here, right now. A force beyond their mortal comprehension is making these corpses come back.

“Kill them again,” L says bluntly, “Destroy them. If it’s a zombie, it’s already dead.”

“Ryuzaki, what about their families! Surely they wouldn’t want their loved ones being destroyed!” Somebody argues with L, of course. “What would you do if Watari became a zombie?!”

L puts a finger on his lip, dragging it down. His eyes go to the ceiling. “Unfortunately, I’d have to kill Watari. If the situation was reversed, he would need to do the same. Regardless, there is no saving them. The zombies exist only to destroy, so we must destroy them.”

Watari doesn’t respond, but what L said is true. He doesn’t want to think about it since he considers L to be his son, but if something were to happen that led L to become a zombie, he would want to be the one to put L down. He’d be much more upset if someone else did it.

~

Gun shots. Bats. Sledgehammers. People running over zombies with their cars. Some people have taken this as an excuse to let out their violent urges. Light sees this on the news and feels his blood boil. Something he wanted to prevent, senseless violence, has sprung up even more because of this damned note. Telling Ryuk to take it back is pointless. The damage is done. What would happen, though, if Light held onto it without using it? Would Ryuk kill him?

Light glares at the shinigami. “You said I was the first human you’ve seen write this many names so fast. That implies other humans have had a death note. Wouldn’t somebody have noticed a zombie before?”

“Who knows?” Ryuk floats over to the window, looking out at the abnormally empty street. “Maybe it’s been forgotten.”

There’s nothing Light can do to reverse the chaos, nothing he can do to end it. Fine, then. The worst have the worst have already been written, many other well-known and otherwise publicly known criminals have already been written. More zombies are bound to appear, but this is it. On a regular piece of notebook paper, Light writes himself a note explaining the situation, knowing he won’t necessarily believe it when he reads it.

“The death note is worthless to me now. If this is its purpose, I don’t want it. Take it back!”

“I’ve had a lot more fun than I expected already.” Ryuk laughs, grabbing the death note away from Light. “Too bad. I wanted to eat more of your apples. They’re so… juicy.”

“Leave already.”

~

Having excellent marksmanship, Matsuda is part of the force assigned to patrol. It’s not his favorite thing in the world, in fact, he’s a little scared of the zombies. Too bad for him his skills are simply too much to pass up on in a time like this. He’s got not just one, but two guns locked and loaded, ready to go. It’s unusual for him to have even one on him most of the time, but the circumstances are grim.

Think on the bright side, Matsuda. According to sources around the world, the only new zombies popping up are ones being turned by already existing zombies, which are dwindling. He’s already taken down a couple. It’s unnerving. Most of them look almost like they could be okay if they put on a little weight, got a little color. Initially, Matsuda was surprised that rigor mortis let them move at all, but was quickly informed by an irritated Aizawa that at most rigor mortis lasts up to 84 hours. Then Matsuda felt grossed out by the idea that the zombies might be overly squishy. That idea was quickly stamped out, as the zombies are probably not squishy at all due to dehydration. Would they even really have blood? Probably, right? The one he shot had some blood.

What disturbed Matsuda even more was that when he went to check the body, taking hold of the hand, the skin came clean off like a glove. Admittedly, it made him sick. None of the sighted zombies have looked particularly bloated, though, which is a positive for him. Matsuda wasn’t sure what he would do if they smelled any worse than this.

Smelled. Can they smell? Matsuda was lost in thought, wondering how the zombies managed to find their way around, when he was interrupted by his earpiece.

“Focus, Matsuda.”

“Sorry, Ryuzaki!”

He taps something on a device that lets a cleanup team know the location of the zombie before moving along, wondering again about a zombie’s senses. Depending on how they died, their eyes might be all dried up, so surely, they couldn’t rely on vision. Maybe hearing is the way to go unless they died already deaf. Then Matsuda remembered that these zombies aren’t actually a result of an ailment. Not the original ones at least. The ones turned after the fact were declared uncurable as well, and Matsuda had his doubts, but the human body can only take so much decay before it’s irreversible.

Another shot rings out. Matsuda means business.

~

Light sits at the dinner table with his family, discussing the zombie topic. Light now has no memories of ever having owned or used the death note, and his brain has filled in the gaps for him. His dad insists that they all continue to remain in lockdown, that he can make the runs himself if they absolutely need anything from the market. Light encourages his dad and offers assistance. Why wouldn’t he?

Sayu and Sahicko have a brief argument that ends with Soichiro telling Sayu to respect her mother. Light smiles. For some reason, he was beginning to miss this.

~

By the time the zombies are cleared up, L is unsatisfied. He was never able to pinpoint who or what exactly caused this out break. Many people try to tell him it was a freak accident, but he knows better. Even if it was an accident, it was no accident. L wanted to know so badly who the face behind the operation was. He clenches his fist and bangs it on the table.

“Kira…” Yes, whoever Kira was, if they’re still out there, might have been killed by their own creation. What a twist of fate. L decides for his own sanity that Kira is still alive, but he doesn’t press the subject. How could he? Kira is seemingly no longer active, and the zombie situation has been solved. If something like this ever happens again, L will be ready to track down and find Kira.

~

[the-sympathetic-villain]

You Belong With Me - Chapter 7

AO3 | First | Previous | Next | Masterpost

Description: Much to his surprise, after being released from prison for a crime he didn’t commit, Logan has been appointed as a the prince’s new advisor.  

Word Count: 6333

Chapter Warnings: Anxiety, Mentions of torture and past abuse, Mentions of imprisonment and dehumanizing treatment, Mentions of being restrained (All of this is talked about, not happening and it's mostly nondescript.)

Author’s note: This chapter is long and it gets pretty heavy at points. Just be aware as you read! :)

Roman was ominously quiet as he led Logan through the tower.  They turned quickly through the winding hallways, making their way down towards the ground floor. Uneasiness settled over Logan as he watched Roman turned corners ahead of him. He wanted to trust Roman's intentions but he struggled to resist his growing anxiety at being led to an unknown destination.

Logan took a deep breath, slowing his pace as Roman approached a set of large, oaken double doors. Two guards stood at either side of the entrance to the castle. Roman stopped and nodded at them, waiting patiently as the door was pushed open for them. The guard gave Roman a slight bow as he held it open for the prince. Roman ducked through the door with Logan following closely behind. Logan felt the hairs on his neck stand on end as the guards stared at him. Their gaze felt dangerous. With a slight shiver, he moved closer to Roman as the prince led him out into the courtyard.

Trying to shake his nervousness, Logan couldn’t help but let his gaze drift up as Roman led him down one of the paths away from the castle. As they made their way across the courtyard, a series of enormous greenhouses had emerged into view. He followed, confused, as Roman veered off the path towards them, muttering under his breath. Logan stared anxiously at Roman as he followed behind, waiting for an explanation for his unusual behavior.

Finally, Roman stopped near the entrances to the greenhouses and turned back to Logan. “I have to admit. I'm not actually sure which building he's supposed to be in today.”

Logan's skin prickled but he kept his voice steady. “Who?”

“Our chief botanist.”

“Oh.” Logan relaxed. Realization on why Roman had dragged him out of the tower struck him. He had assumed that his new project would take place at the library but admittedly, Roman's plan seemed more direct. He exhaled, relieved.

“He's an odd, little fellow. A little excitable, but amazingly intelligent. You’d be hard-pressed to find anyone in the realm who knows more about plants than him.” He paused, scanning the buildings. “I’m fairly certain he's in the third building today.”

“You know his schedule?”

Roman shrugged his shoulder, grinning at Logan. “Clearly not well enough, but yes. He's a good friend so I like to keep track of him.”

Roman stepped into one of the greenhouses, quickly making his way through the narrow, aisles of planters. Logan stopped abruptly upon entering the building. He had never seen so many different plants in his life. The room was filled to the brim with colorful, exotic plants of all shapes and sizes lined up neatly into individual planters. Some of the larger plants reached nearly to the ceiling, creeping up the walls of the greenhouse. Logan breathed deeply, inhaling the sweet scents drifting through the warm, dense air. Finally, he caught his breath, noticing Roman was getting away from him. He increased his pace, making up for lost ground following the prince, his eyes dancing around at the rows of colorful flora.

They passed through the first building without any luck. Roman was frustrated but Logan carefully concealed a glimmer of excitement. For Roman’s sake, he tried not to appear overly excited, but he secretly looked forward to exploring the other buildings.

He eagerly followed Roman into the next building. Logan’s jaw dropped. Giant, dark pink and green vines covered the walls, enclosing a series of tall, dark ashen trees that were spaced evenly throughout the building. Long, billowing, thin branches drifting down from the treetops. Sweet smells drifted through the air as they made their way along the narrow path through the greenhouse. Logan stifled a surprised gasp as he followed Roman through the undergrowth. The other greenhouse had been neatly organized into sections and various planters but this building seemed to  contain its own small ecosystem. Logan looked down at the ground. The entirety of the space was covered in small azure blooms and golden flowers. The narrow, winding paths were the only break among the dense foliage around them.

“Wow.” He muttered under his breath.

Roman continued forward into the into the greenhouse unfazed, following the narrow path in front of them. As they made their way forward, the a small clearing opened up to reveal a small pond in the center. Large, colorful fish circled around in the pond.

Logan's ears perked up as a soft, distant voice rose out of the silence. The gentle melody gradually filled the room around them as they made their way deeper into the greenery.

“Oh, good. He's here somewhere." Roman commented as led Logan along the path, seemingly seeking out the source of the soft voice.

“How do you know?”

“He's the only one who sings to the plants.”

“He sings to the plants?”

“Umm… yeah.” Roman shrugged. “He says it helps them grow better.”

Logan looked to the room around him. “That's admittedly, an… odd hypothesis but considering this place is clearly thriving, it's hard for me to question his methods.”

Ahead of them, Logan noticed a small figure crouched over the flowers.  His soft voice filled the air. Logan didn’t recognize the language of the lyrics but the song was pleasantly sweet, drifting lightly through the space.

“Patton?” Roman called out.

The figure spun around and his face brightened. He turned and ran towards them, dancing carefully to avoid stepping on the flowers. “Roman!”

Roman smiled. “Hello, my friend. Can we bother you for a moment?”

“You could never bother me, Ro.” He quickly swung Roman into a hug, nearly knocking him over as he ran up to them. Roman steadied them, hugging him back, closing his eyes until Patton finally released him.

Logan waited patiently behind them. A moment later the stranger pulled back from Roman and turned to Logan. Logan barely held back a yelp as Patton hopped over to him, quickly pulling him into a hug. Logan froze, unsure of how to process the sudden display of affection. He looked to Roman for guidance but the prince simply smiled over at Logan and shrugged. Logan turned his head back to Patton, awkwardly patting the stranger’s back until he was released.

“And who are you? I don't think I've met you before.”

Who hugs someone before even knowing who they are?

Patton looked up at him expectedly.

“My name is Logan.” He glanced quickly at Roman, before looking back at Patton. “I’m Roman's new advisor.”

“Oh yeah! You helped save Ro!”

“Umm…yes.” Logan glanced nervously over at the prince who was still smiling at him. “Although, admittedly, the situation was more complicated than that.”

“Where did you learn to do that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Create a cure or whatever you did? Everyone in the castle searched for solutions but none of them had any effect on him at all. You really came out of nowhere with a perfect antidote.”

Logan hesitated, not wanting to come across as arrogant. He cleared his throat. “I used to apprentice with a local apothecary. The skills I developed there enabled me to reverse-engineer an antidote from the original poison in the dart.”

“That's amazing. We were so lucky you were around.” A grin stretched across Patton's face.

Patton's chaotic energy nearly overwhelmed Logan. He'd never met someone who was so unnervingly optimistic and energetic and, especially after his recent incarceration, most people were immediately suspicious of him. He couldn't blame anyone for their suspicion. The circumstances of his release were unusual to even the most forgiving of observers, but somehow Patton didn't seem the slightest bit bothered.

“Actually, Patton,” Roman began, pulling Patton's attention away from Logan. “That's why we're here. I would like you to assist Logan in identifying the poison that was used in the attack.”

“Oh! Interesting! I suppose I could be of some help figuring that out.” Patton seemed like he almost bouncing before he paused. A look of confusion stretched across his face. He turned back to Logan. “But, don't you already know what the poison is? Didn't you have to know in order to make the antidote?”

Logan was quiet, struggling to find his words.

Roman turned his gaze to Logan. “I have to admit, I've been wondering that as well.”

With all eyes on him, Logan's cheeks burned. He forced himself to   make eye contact with Patton. “I'm afraid you may find my answer inadequate but, once I had the dart in my possession, I simply knew what I needed to do to make the antidote.”

“You just knew?”

Logan could hear the disbelief in Roman's voice as he turned to face him. Unable to handle the prince’s disapproving stare, he looked sheepishly away. “I know how it sounds, Roman.”

“Do you? Because it sounds like you risked my life on nothing but a hunch.” Roman paused. “Either that, or you’re lying to me.”

Logan bit his lip, hearing the seriousness in Roman's tone.  He looked up at the prince, meeting the Roman's stern gaze with a determined look. “I'm not lying to you Roman and I did not risk your health unnecessarily. I was certain the treatment would be effective and I knew if I neglected to act, your death would be the likely outcome.”

“How could you possibly know that with so little information?” Roman crossed his arms, looking down at Logan uncertainly.

Logan faltered. “I…I don't know. I’ve been over what happened dozens of times in my head. When I opened the chamber of the dart to investigate the substance, I instantly knew how dangerous it was. It's possible I've worked with this poison before and simply don't remember the specific details of learning how to treat it."

Roman was silent, his face inscrutable.

Logan met Roman’s disbelief with a surge of determination. “It's not a simple process to create an antidote. I didn't guess and hope for the best outcome. I was certain of what I was doing at each step. Somehow, my subconscious mind must have been able to tap into information my conscious mind was unable to recall but I've never been more certain of anything than I was that night.”

Roman's voice softened. “Still, it seems like a shot in the dark.”

“Everything that I did that night was done against nearly impossible odds, but I was certain the antidote would work. I just needed to get it to you.” Logan looked down at the ground, tucking his shaking hands behind his back. “I know… I know that your trust that I acted in your best interests that night is all that keeps me from being returned to my imprisonment. I wish I had a better explanation for you, Roman, but this is the truth of what happened and you're alive because of it.”

A moment of silence hung over them before he heard Patton speak.

“Ro…”

“I know, Pat.”

Logan flinched as Roman's hand touched his arm, not realizing the prince had approached him. He looked up to see nothing but gentle concern in Roman’s eyes.

“I believe you.” Roman reassured him. He reached over to Logan’s shoulder, pulling him into an embrace. “Logan, you saved my life. You're not ever going back.”

Logan let himself be held a moment before he felt another pair of soft arms wrap around him from behind. He glanced behind his shoulder to see tufts of Patton’s hair and smiled.

“Thank you.” Logan whispered softly.

“There’s no need to thank anyone.” Roman reassured him as he released his grip. Logan could feel Patton nodding behind him as he let go. Roman rested his hand on Logan’s shoulder. “Let's move on, okay? We still need to track down who did this.”

Logan nodded appreciatively.

Roman turned to Patton. “Can you pull yourself away from your work for a while?”

“Sure thing, Ro.” Patton nodded enthusiastically. “Everything is basically taken care of this afternoon. Follow me. I have some parchment we can use to record your symptoms and their timeline. We can narrow down the search from there.” Patton gingerly stepped around them, careful not to crush the flowers. He gestured for Roman and Logan to follow him back to the entrance of the greenhouse.

Bright, light flooded Logan’s eyes as he stepped out of the building. He hadn't realized how much of the light the trees inside had been blocking until he stepped out into the daylight. He blinked quickly, trying to adjust to the light as he moved across the courtyard. Patton let them over to a small, wooden hut. The small home was dwarfed by the massive, glass buildings sitting adjacent to it.

He followed Patton and Roman up the stairs through the front door of the hut. Once inside, he glanced around the cluttered but cozy home. Every surface was covered in Patton’s possessions. The air smelled of herbs and he could see various bunches of plants hanging from the ceiling, drying. A fireplace stood on the western wall with a large, comfortable-looking chair resting just in front of the mantelpiece. His home was all one room and Logan could see Patton’s bed sitting on the eastern wall. He watched as Patton pulled out his desk chair, sitting down as he started to dig through the drawers. Roman automatically dropped into the large armchair, turning it slightly to face Patton and waiting for him to be ready. Logan stood at the entrance, hesitating slightly. Patton glanced up at him.

“You can sit on the bed, Logan. You don't need to stand.” Patton said, gesturing to the bed.

“Oh, are you sure? I certainly don't mind standing.”

“No! You should sit! This could take a while. Please, make yourself comfortable.” Patton protested, smiling at him again before turning back to his desk.

“Okay, thank you.” Logan smiled back. He appreciated Patton’s concern for him. Few people had expressed such genuine concern for his well-being, especially recently.

“Alright, Patton. Let's begin.” Roman directed.

“Okay!” Patton said joyously. He rolled out a piece of parchment. After weighing down the corners, he pulled out a quill and inkwell. “How did you come into contact with the poison?”

“By dart.” Roman said, absentmindedly rubbing his neck where the dart had struck.

“Do you have the it with you?”

“Yes.” Roman nodded and pulled out a small leather pouch. He handed it over to Patton.

Patton gingerly took it from Roman. Setting the pouch on the table, he pulled on a pair of leather gloves that had been sitting on his desk. Once his hands were protected, he pulled the dart out, laying it down on his desk. He was quiet for a while, examining the dart. He looked up at Roman “After the dart struck you, did you faint?”

“Nearly immediately. I felt a prick in my neck, and I didn't even have a chance to pull it out before my vision blurred and faded to black. I don't remember anything after that until I woke up a little over an hour later.”

Patton nodded, turning to Logan. “Logan, you were there too, right? What do you remember?”

“Oh, um…” He glanced cautiously at Roman, before turning back to face Patton. “I was walking down the hall when I saw Roman. I’d rarely visited the castle in the past but my master, the apothecary, needed me to make a delivery of herbs to one of his patrons who lived in the tower that day.”

Logan looked up and Patton nodded for him to continue.

“The hall was empty except for Roman walking toward me. I remember feeling unsettled by the quietness of the halls. Roman's cry pulled me from my thoughts. I looked up and watched him stumble, the dart sticking out of his neck. He stood at the intersection of two hallways, so I could only assume his assailant was standing in the perpendicular corridor, out of my line of sight.” Logan shuddered at the memory. “I tried to rush forward to help Roman but before I could reach him, I was grabbed from behind. A piece of cloth was shoved in my face. It didn't smell of anything but there must have been something there because my vision faded seconds later. The next thing I remember is waking up in a prison cell hours later.”

“How did you get the dart?” Roman asked, not breaking eye contact with Logan.

“What?” Logan struggled to steady his voice.

“How did you get the dart?” Roman asked again, with a serious expression. “Earlier, you told Patton you reverse-engineered an antidote from the serum in the dart. So, where did you get the dart?”

Logan looked down at the ground. He considered lying but now was as good of a time as any to come clean. He swallowed nervously. “It wasn't the same dart that struck you. I…I managed to obtain one while in my cell afterwards.”

Roman’s eyes bore into him and Logan fidgeted nervously under his gaze.

Finally, Patton broke the silence. “His story makes sense Roman.”

Roman looked over at Patton, reluctantly turning away from Logan. “What do you mean, Pat?”

Patton held the dart out to Roman, pointing at the jagged edge of the tip. “The tip of this dart is designed to be a weak point. It's made of a different material that's sharp but intentionally fragile. It's made to pierce the skin and break off. Once the tip breaks, the serum is free to flow into your blood.”

“How does that corroborate Logan’s story?” The prince asked, raising an eyebrow.

“When the dark struck you, all of the poison from the dart would have been released into your body.” Patton manipulated the dart until the chamber popped open. He held it out to Roman. “See? It’s empty. Barely a trace of the poison is still here.”

Patton paused, turning the dart in his hand. “I've never done it personally but from what I understand, in most cases, the base of the antidote is often made of the original poison. It’s part of the reason no one else was able to help you. The dart recovered from your body was empty. We had no starting point to work from. In order to have a chance at saving you, Logan would have had to get his hands on a second dart or some the serum.”

Roman nodded and looked over at Logan again. “Where is the second dart?”

Logan flushed red with nervousness. “I-I don't know.”

Roman stared at him, unblinking.

Logan continued quickly, his voice shaking with guilt. “I’m sorry, sir. I had the dart on me when I administered the antidote to you in your infirmary room but I was apprehended by your guard shortly after. The sleeping guard in your infirmary room woke just after I'd finished giving you the dose. He was so fast.” Logan shook, wrapping his arms around himself. His palms were sweaty, and he could feel his hands shaking. “He—he grabbed me. His arm was wrapped around my throat. I couldn’t b-b-breathe.”

“Logan?”

Logan looked up. He was surprised to see that Roman was leaned towards him, his eyes filled with concern.

“Take a breath. There's no rush. You’re not in any trouble, okay?”

Logan nodded. He briefly glanced at Patton, who smiled at him reassuringly. He looked down at the ground, taking a few deep breaths and recollecting himself. He could feel Patton and Roman watching him with bated breath. He sighed, exhausted.

“I passed out. I was certain I was going to die there but, by some miracle, I woke up some time later in the cell I'd been held in the previous night. Metal cuffs bound my hands to the wall so I couldn’t escape the way I had before.”

Roman looked over at him guiltily. “And the dart?”

Logan shrugged. “It was gone when I woke. Taken from me while I was unconscious.” Logan leaned back against the cold wall behind him, pulling his legs up on the edge of the bed.

Guilt showed on Roman’s face as he leaned closer. “Logan, I'm really sorry that I have to push you like this, but I need to know what happened. How did you manage to get the dart while you were in your cell the first time?”

Logan nodded tiredly at him. “After the incident in the hallway, I woke up in my cell. I panicked and pleaded to be released. That's when the guard told me I was being held under suspicion of attempting to kill you. I didn’t know what to do. They’d framed me for murder, and I knew a death sentence was inevitable, if the charges stood.” He took a deep breath.

Roman's expression dropped. He bit his lip and spoke gently. “I'm sorry, Logan. None of that should never have happened.”

Logan shrugged, not looking up. “It's fine.”

“It's really not. You didn't deserve any of this.” Roman said, his voice shaking as he leaned forward. “But it's over. You’re not going back there, Logan. Not ever.”

Logan looked up at Roman with a faint smile.  He appreciated that Roman cared enough to be upset that he was mistreated. He paused. His breath caught in his throat. A sudden nervousness overwhelmed him as memories flooded back to him. He could feel tears welling in his eyes. “That night, t-they c-came…”

Logan flinched as Roman stood up, trembling as he approached. Moving slowly, Roman slid onto the bed next to Logan. Eyeing Roman cautiously, Logan winced but didn't pull away as Roman’s reached around him, pulling Logan’s head to his shoulder and wrapping his arms around him. Logan’s body was rigid with tension and his hands were shaking as Roman pulled Logan close his chest, holding him tightly.

Logan went limp in the prince’s arms. The constant stream of consciousness in his brain finally calmed as he leaned into Roman's warm, gentle embrace. After all the pain he'd endured, the simple pleasure of Roman’s hug made his body relax. His mind finally started to quiet as his anxiety melted away.

Roman held him patiently until he regained his composure. Logan pulled away slowly. Roman released him reluctantly but he didn't move from the bed, keeping an arm wrapped loosely around Logan's shoulder.

After a moment, Patton finally broke the silence, speaking quietly.   “I'm sorry to have brought all of this up. I didn't mean to upset you, kiddo.”

“Don't be sorry, Patton.” Logan shook his head and quickly reassured him. “It's clearly not a comfortable subject for me but I need to share what I know, for my sake and for Roman’s.”

“You’re right. It's important and you’re doing so good, kiddo.” Patton smiled at him.

“I think I can keep going.” He took a breath and looked over at Roman.

Roman nodded at him.

“When the sun set in the dungeons, the guards let certain sadistic individuals into the prison cells. I suspect they bribed the guards for access to the prisoners and I was an easy target since no one expected me to last long if Roman died.” Logan spoke the last few words through gritted teeth.

Roman’s grip tightened on his shoulder.

“And if you’d died, no one would have questioned the injuries I sustained, assuming I was granted a trial at all.” Logan was silent for a few seconds. “There was nowhere to escape them. They enjoyed every second of my anguish and fighting back only made their punishments more extreme. I’m honestly fortunate to have avoided any permanent damage.”

Logan felt Roman's arm tense around him. Logan glanced nervously over at Roman, wondering if he’d said too much. His face was full of rage, shaded with a touch of sadness. Logan hesitated to continue.

“Keep going,” Patton encouraged. “It's hard for us to hear and I’m sure it's even harder for you to talk about but it's important we know the whole story, kiddo.”

Logan looked away from Roman, nodding at Patton. “They’d be in my cell for hours at night.  It started small the first night.” Logan paused. “But their actions escalated as my tolerance for the pain increased. Fortunately, at least the first night, they seemed to want me fully conscious for their… activities. So, they avoided injuring my head. If they hadn't, I may have been concussed and too injured to escape and save Roman.”

Roman held up his hands to stop him. “Logan, all of that happened to you. You were assaulted, imprisoned and tortured. Then, you escaped, and instead of fleeing, your first thought was to save me?”

Logan shrugged. “Both logically and morally, it was my only choice I could make.”

“You could have died.” Roman protested.

“If I stayed in my cell, I would have been executed. If I’d fled the castle, either the royal guard would have apprehended and returned me to my cell or I would have died of exposure leaving the kingdom.” Logan paused, looking down at his hands. “There was no escape for me. You at still had a slim chance, if I could get to you in time.”

Roman sat in stunned silence, his face unreadable.  A few minutes passed before Patton prompted him to continue. “You still haven’t told us how you got the other dart, kiddo.”

“Right.” Logan tiredly looked up at Patton. “In my attempts to appease them, I pleaded with them that I was innocent. I'm honestly not sure what I expected. What they were doing was clearly not of a legal nature, but I suppose I hoped that their brutality was a result of believing that I had tried to kill the prince but I couldn’t have been more wrong. The man who seemed to be their leader got close to my face. Uncomfortably close.” Logan shivered at the memory. “He whispered in my ear that he knew I didn't try to kill you because he had.”

Roman exhaled, wrapping his arm tighter around Logan’s shoulder. Logan leaned into Roman’s shoulder, closing his eyes. His voice quivered.

“He continued to…toy with me. At some point, I noticed the dart gun in his waistband. I took a risk and charged him. He fell to the ground stunned and I managed to kick one of the darts under the bed and out of sight before the other two men grabbed me.” Logan sighed. “He—he made sure I regretted fighting back. I'm honestly lucky that they didn't just kill me outright.” He exhaled, relieved to be nearing the end of his story. “Once they left my cell, I examined the dart and fortunately, it looked exactly like the dart that I'd seen hit Roman’s neck. I… liberated myself from my cell, utilized my skills to create the antidote and the rest you know.”

“How did you escape your cell?” Patton leaned closer.

“There was a stool in the cell. It was battered and broken but I was able to use the metal legs to give myself enough leverage to break the lock.” He paused, looking down at the ground. “They bolted my shackles to the wall after that, so that I couldn't reach the door.”

Roman opened his mouth almost like he meant to say something, but he gave an agitated sigh. He looked away, taking his arm from around Logan’s shoulder. Logan could feel the bed shift as Roman moved. Logan watched him, anxiously awaiting his response. After a minute, Roman finally found his words. Hesitantly, he spoke. “Logan, you said they avoided your head yet you clearly have injuries on your face.”

Logan looked away from Roman, reluctantly responding. “That was only the first night. After that, they weren't so generous. I may have delivered you the antidote that first night, but I was returned to my cell shortly after I was recaptured and I wasn’t released from there until you were fully healed a few days ago. The men returned night after night and I was at their mercy, unable to escape. A few times they even came during the day and caught me off guard and make me too paranoid to sleep.”

Logan took a deep breath. “Fortunately, they must not have predicted you'd take a personal interest in me. Otherwise, I doubt they'd have kept me alive as long as they did.”

“I’m so sorry, Logan. You didn't deserve any of that. If I’d had my way, you would have been released immediately after I'd woken.” Roman pleaded, guilt evident in his voice.

“I know, Roman. I have no doubt that you advocated for me and I do not blame you for what happened.” Logan paused, looking earnestly at Roman. “Ultimately, I made it through. In some respects, I should be grateful. I have chance at a better life because of you.”

“I would never have asked you to pay so dearly for that opportunity.” Roman closed his eyes. His voice shook with emotion and his face flushed with anger.

Logan breathed deeply, feeling Roman’s emotions radiating off him. He'd never seen the prince so upset before. It surprised him. He never imagined his experiences would have any affect on someone like Roman.

“I'm okay now, Roman.” Logan smiled weakly at him.

“I know and I'm glad for that. Truly, I am.” Roman gently placed his hand over the bruises on Logan’s cheek. “I just also know I have a lot of work to do to make sure this never happens to anyone ever again.”

Patton cleared his throat, bringing them back to the matter at hand. He held the dart in his gloved hands. “I think it’s safe to say the dart contained two substances. I don't know of any poison that takes effect so immediately and does not kill you in a matter of minutes.”

Logan looked up to him, glad to move on. “You're right. When I was initially examining the dart, it appeared to be coated in one substance and had a reservoir of poison in a chamber dart. The substance in the internal reservoir is what I used to create the antidote.”

“Okay! Good, Logan. That's a starting point!” Patton said excitedly. His optimistic energy seemed to be recovering quickly from the intensity a moment ago. “I don’t think identifying the sedative is worth our time. There are several local plants that can have the effect and every herbalist in the kingdom will be selling some equivalent of this sedative. It’d be like looking for a needle in a haystack.”

“Great.” Roman said with a touch of disappointment.

“Oh… Don't worry, Ro.” Patton smiled knowingly at him. “Though the sedative may not be worth identifying, the poison certainly is. Fortunately, from what I know of your affliction, there are no poisons that grow locally that behave like this one. Without a doubt, it was imported.”

“If we can narrow down our search, we could narrow down who’s been importing or at least where it was sold.” Logan commented.

“Exactly." Patton beamed at him. "Roman, tell me what you remember about how the poison affected you.”

“Well, the poison didn't seem to affect me immediately. It was early in the morning that I was ambushed in the hallway. I woke in the infirmary room an hour or so later. My mouth and throat burned but otherwise I wasn't feeling ill. As time went on though, I got worse. I started feeling weak and my head was still hazy from the sedative. After a few hours, I wasn't able to deny my pain any longer. My stomach started cramping until I couldn’t stand. I was rushed to the infirmary. The pain was blinding and I was burning up. My chest was tight. I felt like I couldn’t get enough air into my lungs. I was so weak that I couldn’t sit up without assistance. Maybe twelve hours after the attack, sometime after sunset, I passed out again.” Roman shrugged. “I still don't remember anything after that until I woke a few days later. I was still weak but the pain had abated.”

Logan felt a lump in his throat. Outside of being relieved to hear that the prince had recovered, he hadn’t considered what Roman had gone through in the last couple weeks. He felt guilty for not even considering Roman’s pain after all the kindness he had showed him. Logan took a breath. He was starting to realize he had drastically underestimated how much he’d started to care for the kind prince. He reached over and rested his hand on Roman's forearm, hoping to comfort him.

“That's a good start for identifying the poison.” Patton said, smiling at them on the bed. He pulled out a couple large books from off the mantel of the fireplace.

“Logan, can you help me go through these?”

“Of course,” Logan said, reluctantly leaving Roman.

Patton and Logan sifter through the information in the books.  Each book contains hundreds of species poisonous plants, though they ruled out several immediately.  For hours, they poured through the books, occasionally asking Roman questions about his experience with the poison.

Logan's anxiety eased the longer they sat in Patton's hut. He felt right at home perusing through Patton’s books, doing research and searching for a clear answer. It'd been a long time since he had a problem he could solve so he threw himself into it whole-heartedly.  He glanced over at Roman and smiled, noticing the prince was having a harder time staying involved. Logan kept an eye on him out of the corner of his eyes and he could see the prince appeared to be dozing off.

“Come look at this one!” Patton said suddenly.

The prince snapped up and he and Logan moved to stand behind Patton at his desk. Logan looked down to see a beautiful botanical drawing a small, pink flower. Logan found it hard to believe something so small and beautiful could do so much harm.

“The timeframe of symptoms and how they've progressed matches the description. It all fits, down to the description of the serum.”

“What is it called?”

“Meadow saffron. The effects begin two to five hours to start. The first effects are burning mouth and throat, fever, stomach cramps and uh… digestion issues.”

Logan chuckled.

“Hush, you.” Roman said sternly, but he couldn't hide his smile.

“Yes, sir.” Logan smiled back. He took a moment to read through the entry in the book. "I think you're right, Pat. Everything here matches what we know.

“Roman,” Patton said quietly. “If this really is the poison, you were very lucky.”

“What do you mean Pat?” Roman asked, looking down at the book.

“Meadow saffron can start to cause organ failure only twenty-four hours after contact. It must have been nearly twenty hours before Logan got to you. You really could have died.” He whispered, tears welling up in his eyes.

“It’s okay, Pat. You don’t need to worry. I'm fine now. I had my own personal hero.” Roman said, resting his hand on Patton’s shoulder as he looked over at Logan with a grateful smile.

“You're right.” Patton spun around in his chair and pulled Logan into a hug. Logan flinched so hard he nearly fell backward but Patton already had his arms around him, holding him steady. “Thanks for saving Roman, Lo.”

Logan froze as Patton's arms wrapped around his waist. Awkwardly rigid, he looked to Roman for assistance, but the prince merely smiled at him. Logan’s heart fluttered with pride. He relaxed and hugged Patton back. “Of course, Pat. I had to save him. Where would any of us be without our fearless leader?”

Patton finally released him from his grip, beaming up at him. “You did a good thing, kiddo. I'm so proud of you.”

“‘Kiddo’ is not really an apt description, seeing as I’m not a child.” Logan said, confused.

“Don't fight it, Lo. He's got a lot of love to give.” Roman said, smirking at him. He paused for a moment before reluctantly speaking again. “Hey, listen. If we're sure this is the poison, I need to be getting back to my own responsibilities. Plus, Logan's work is only beginning. We still need to identify the poison’s source and where it's being imported to in the kingdom.”

Patton bounced with excitement. “At least part of that is already solved. This book says that it only grows in one place in the world. It grows in the wettest parts of the Northern Islands.”

Logan leaned in, reading over Patton’s shoulder. “That significantly narrows down my search.  Thank you for your assistance, Patton.”

Patton nodded happily.

Logan thought for a second. He gestured to the book with the entry for meadow saffron. “Can I borrow this?”

“Of course, you can. I'm so glad Roman asked me for help.” Patton beamed at him. “And I'm so glad I got the chance to meet you.”

“It was my pleasure, Patton. Thank you…for being so accepting of me. Other people’s reactions have been unwelcoming. I really appreciate you giving me a chance.”

Patton perked up, grinning over at Logan. “You’re welcome, Logan. You’re a good person. I can tell.”

Logan's confidence wavered. He quickly corrected his expression, hoping not to worry his new friends.

A flash of nervousness washed across Logan as he noticed Patton watching him skeptically. His face flushed, uncomfortably, but Patton simply grinned at him. Patton moved forward again and pulled Logan into another hug. This time, Logan didn't hesitate to hug him back, finally acclimating to Patton's fondness for personal contact. He whispered in Logan's ear. “It's okay if you don't believe it yet, kiddo. It'll get easier.”

“Thanks, Pat." Logan whispered back.

Patton turned to give Roman a hug. “I'm so glad you’re okay, Ro.”

“Me too, buddy. Promise me you won’t stress about this, okay?”

“Okay, I promise I'll try not to think about it too much and I'll see both of soon, okay?”

“Of course, Pat.” Roman conceded.

“Thank you, Patton.” Logan said, gratefully

You Belong With Me Taglist: @cas-is-a-hunter @insert-cool-blogname@ironwoman359 @i-know-im-smart @imbadatnames8d @dwbh888

[queeranarchism]

When the Right accepts the reality of Climate Change

This is going to be a long post and it's not a fun story. In fact, it might take away hope in an already difficult time. But I think it's an important thing to talk about:

When the political right fully accepts the reality of climate change, we're f*cked.

The common narrative is this: Scientists and climate activists on this left are facing the reality of climate change and have the solutions. To save us all, what they need to do is defeat the (mostly right wing) climate change deniers and convince everyone of the severity of the problem. If they convince enough people about the reality of climate change, they will also have enough people on their side to create the big changes necessary and climate collapse will be averted.

Now, to be honest, I don't think climate collapse can still be averted. We can do something to slow climate change but we are clearly nowhere close to achieving the radical changes that could prevent climate collapse (if that is even still possible) and I don't see a revolution on the short term horizon. It sucks but it's time we started facing that climate collapse is really coming. But that's not actually what I wanted to talk about. Here's a (kinda-democratic-law-and-order-blah) article with more on that: https://www.newyorker.com/culture/cultural-comment/what-if-we-stopped-pretending. If you disagree with me on that, do keep reading, the rest of this post will still be relevant.

Back to the topic: in the years to come we will see more and bigger climate disasters and at some point anyone still denying climate change will look absolutely ridiculous. The political right could dig themselves in deeper and lose all sense of reality and some might do that but at some point most on the right will turn around and accept that climate change and likely climate collapse is a real and urgent threat.

And here's the shitty thing: they will come up with different solutions than those that the political left is suggesting. Because they work by their own logic based on competition, authority and control. So here's the 4 most likely answers they would come up with:

1. More borders. Less refugees.   From a capitalist point of view, climate change is first and foremost a matter for resources. If oil and water and food and inhabitable ground are all running out, then the most important thing to do is to hang on to all you have. From a state's point of view, this is also what it needs to do to serve it's most basic interests: 'If most of the planet will die, we'll be the survivors'. This isn't hypothetical. "Expected water shortages leading to increased pressures on our southern borders, requiring more resources to secure border crossings" are the kind of sentences that have been in military planning documents for two decades now. Military strategists are already gearing up to make sure their state survives while the world dies.

2. More police. More prisons. More surveillance. If there are shortages of oil, water and food coming in even the wealthiest countries, then social unrest will surely follow. From a right-wing point of view, the best way to prepare for that is to make sure there are more camera's, more boots and more guns on the street and less civil rights getting in the way of maintaining order.

3. Less democracy, more dictatorship. If you're right wing and you've finally faced the reality of climate change, shit's getting urgent. Now you can choose a number of drastic solutions. Some are very expensive - the most expensive thing EVER - and require creating the kind of society that you (as a right wing person) consider 'unrealistic' or morally unacceptable. Other proposed solutions sound a lot more attractive. Like the idea to fill the atmosphere with sulfur to stop the heat of the sun (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stratospheric_aerosol_injection). This comes with a lot of risks and unknowns and doesn't actually remove any CO2 from the air, but hey, it's better than changing our whole society, right? If this is the road you go down, you will also realise that such a drastic and distopian sounding plan isn't likely to be embraced by the masses. Most don't like the idea of indefinitely filling our air with sulfur to block the sun. So the obvious answer is that a strong leader must declare a climate emergency, abolish 'democratic checks and balances' and take the necessary action. And since this plan would need to be maintained for a few decades, that leader's power should be pretty long term.... Other attempts on the right to science our way out of climate change without social change are likely to have similar results. 

4. Population control. This one even sneaks its way into some leftist discourse under the guise of 'having less children as a green consumer option'. Spoiler alert: this is never how population control actually works out. What we're likely to see under 'moderate' right wing governments is pressure on reproductive rights, particularily those of the poor and people of color, accompanied by secret draconian measures such as forced sterilisation imposed on the undocumented, the institutionalized, prisoners. The idea of sterilising those 'unfit to reproduce' has a long history in 'western civilisation' and is still here. It will manifest itself in the context of the ugly reality of climate collapse. The 'population control' option of the far-right politician is of course genocide. If there are too many people, too big a carbon footprint and not enough resources: better make sure the best people survive, right? This isn't hypothetical either. 'Eco-fascists' who believe that climate change demands mass murder (of everyone except white people) already exist. 

So yeah... when the political right accepts the reality of climate change, we're f*cked.

But I'm not writing this just to mess with your last bit of hope. I wanna face this reality because it allows us to ask the next question: So what do we do? Here's some answers I would give:

1. Stop trying to convince the climate deniers on the right. Let them bury themselves into their own ignorance. Let them reason themselves into insignificance. We don't actually want them on our side. The longer they stick to their bullshit the better. Instead, cut out their noise and let's focus our energy on far more relevant conversations like 'can we still prevent climate collapse?', 'how do we actually prepare for climate collapse?'. Those are the public conversations that should be taking place.

2. Reduce the power of the right wherever we can. Whether it's unionizing, elections of the streets: what we do to reduce the power of the political right now will be vital in the years to come. If they're as strong 10 years from now as they are today, they can put their own 'solutions' into action and we'll really be f*cked. Everything we can do to change the balance of power will make all of our survival more likely.

3. Resist any normalization of the 'population control' narrative. Make sure everyone knows that the richest 10% are responsible for 49% of CO2 emision while the poorest 50% are responsible for 10%. Make sure everyone knows that we could actually sustainably feed the planet if we distributed food better. If you see 'having less children' suggested as a green choice, have a serious conversation about where that line of thinking is most likely to take us. If you see someone romanticizing a future in which most of the world population is dead, don't give such a horrible notion an inch of space. Make it very very clear that the 'population control' narrative lays the foundations for genocide. Destroy those foundations wherever you find them.

4. Prepare to be (more) illegal. If we don't manage to create a big shift in power, it is very likely that we will soon see far more repression. The only way we can continue to resist and survive is if we're prepared. So things like increasing our ability to communicate and move undetected, and our ability to break the law and get away with it, are vital things to work on in the years to come. If we do end up with more fascist dictatorships, it'll be what keeps us alive.

5. Strengthen everything that keeps us alive and fight everything that kills us. In the coming crisis, everything we have will matter. Every reproductive right we protected. Every water source we protected. Every community we strengthened. Every step towards equality that we took together. And everything they don't have will matter. Every legal power the cops didn't get because we resisted. Every prison that didn't get build because we resisted. Every fascist group that didn't get off the ground because we resisted. The struggles we're already in against social inequalities are all going to matter more than ever. We can't put any of them on hold to 'focus on the climate first'. We fight economic inequality, racism, sexism, transphobia, ableism and more now because the progress we make in every one of those struggles is part of what will keep us alive.

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @leetje!

happy holidays leonie, have a wonderful time of love and celebration! i hope you enjoy your fic! x

Read on AO3

*****

wherever you are is the place i belong

Of all the things Magnus expected to be doing an hour before midnight on Christmas Eve, trekking through inches of dense Hungarian snow was not one that had crossed his mind. It was all that rat bastard Lorenzo Rey’s fault for antagonizing the notoriously reclusive and anal-retentive High Warlock of Budapest.

Gergo Bartos had grown perilously distrustful through the centuries and his spellwork reflected that—but it didn’t keep Lorenzo from asserting the possibility that he purposefully sabotaged the warding of the archives in the Spiral Labyrinth, leading to a security breach. Bartos was livid, and sent word to the Clave and the Warlock Council that he refused to ever again be brought to a conference, summit, or any such engagement where he had to share space with Rey.

Naturally, the solution was to send the High Warlock of Alicante and the Inquisitor to Budapest on Christmas Eve to try to smooth things over.

“I’m going to strangle that man the next time I see him,” Magnus grumbled to himself, carefully avoiding a slick glaze of black ice.

Alec’s fingers pressing into Magnus’ forearm flexed as he looked down at the mounds of wet snow below his boots. “Lorenzo? I’ll back you.”

Looking over at him, with delicate little snowflakes trapped on his eyelashes and the soft ends of his hair, Magnus felt that familiar lurching feeling in his chest, like for a second his heart stopped just to take him in. The silvery moonlight reflected off the snow and formed a backlighting that gave his angel the halo he deserved, resting on the crown of his head. The high points of his cheeks were flushed pink from the cold, as was the tip of his nose.

Maybe this turn of events wasn’t totally unfortunate.

“Are you too cold?” Magnus asked, sending a pulse of warmth to the surface of his skin and letting it bleed out to Alec.

Alec shivered at the sharp contrast in temperature, then leaned in close to press his face to Magnus’ cheek. “Ugh, that feels so good. I didn’t know it got this cold here. It’s not as bad as New York but still…”

“Your nose is ice!”

Pressing his face more enthusiastically against Magnus’ with a deep, throaty chuckle, Alec peppered kisses with cold lips against the round of his cheek. “When we get home, can we take a hot bath? Maybe add a bath bomb or two, a couple mugs of tea, some eucalyptus candles, and a Sam Cooke vinyl playing.”

“I love when you talk dirty to me,” Magnus teased, catching the tip of his nose against Alec’s in an aborted Inuit kiss. “That sounds like absolute heaven. Did you know there are some divine thermal springs here in Budapest? The Széchenyi Baths are open all year round you know. Maybe we’ll find the time to indulge.”

“You know patience isn’t a virtue of mine when it comes to you, Mr. Lightwood-Bane.” Alec nipped at Magnus’ earlobe with his teeth, a gentle sting of pleasure. A soft sigh punctuated the wistful declaration and preceded the next words out of his mouth. “How much further?”

“Not far.”

“And we can’t portal because…?”

“We can’t portal in because Gergo has perfected the enchantment that surrounds his property; it doesn’t allow portals in or out within a certain distance of his home. This is as close as I could get us without potentially risking life and limb. Believe me, getting spliced would be the least of our worries if we tried.”

As the woods grew denser, clearly capable of making a lesser person claustrophobic, the strength of Bartos’ magic signature grew. Magnus could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing up and goosebumps spread across his skin.

“Do you feel that?” Alec asked, stopping suddenly in his tracks and pulling an arrow from his glamoured quiver and nocking it in his bow.

Holding out a hand to keep Alec from making a sudden move, Magnus’s magic began to probe their surroundings for a trigger, a thread lying in wait to be pulled. “Wait.”

Like a flash of lightning, a bolt of raw energy shot through the trees, and Magnus only just stopped it in its tracks before it reached them. “Látom, hogy az idő még ébersé tette Önt, Gergo,” he called out evenly, keeping his eyes on it.

“Bane? Te vagy az?” a voice responded from somewhere unidentifiable in the distance.

“Az inkvizitátor Lightwood-Bane-nél vagyok.” The concentrated energy Magnus was holding at bay suddenly dissipated, and he lowered his arm back to his side. “We’re here as representative authorities on behalf of the Warlock Council and the Clave.”

From the darkness of the vast woods, a man suddenly appeared from a glimmering portal of opalescent magic. His hair was a darker shade of blond, and his eyes were a deep brown that almost looked black from where he stood. His physique was mostly hidden under the long black robes he wore and the loose button up shirt, but what was clear was that he was very tall with softer features. “This is about that rohadék, Lorenzo. I made it clear that I will not be cooperating with him any longer. I did nothing to sabotage our people’s haven and source of community. I would hope that is something you would know about me without a shadow of a doubt, Magnus.”

Shifting away from Alec to move towards Gergo, Magnus nodded and held out one hand in a peaceful gesture. “I do. I believed you from the beginning. We didn’t come here to accuse you of anything.”

“Is that so?” Gergo looked at him, and then at Alec, with stern eyes and a set jaw. Some of the ice in his expression had thawed, however, and he looked less guarded than when they began. “To what do I owe the visit, then?”

“We can prove your innocence,” Alec stated simply, speaking up for the first time.

“Color me curious.” With a wave of his hand, a pale blue sheet of magic appeared and formed a barrier that started just behind him. Slowly, it began to peel away, allowing Gergo to step through. “A more comfortable venue seems best to continue this.”

Magnus put his hand on Alec’s lower back, steering him gently. He also used the opportunity to his advantage, pressing faint traces of protective magic onto Alec with fingers teasing just under the fabric of his coat, sweater, and t-shirt to brush tenderly across his skin.

They walked towards an old-style mansion that had just dropped its glamour—it looked like the sister establishment to the Sacelláry Mansion. Its exterior was as immaculate and pristine as the day it was built, though it almost seemed to be existing in a place where time didn’t wear down what it touched. There were large columns that barred the front, balconies off every window from the second floor up to the attic. It was painted a crisp ivory color with minimal accents of chestnut brown, still perfectly preserved. The inside was mostly cold, sterile marble in white or black, save for the doors which were large oak double panels. The hallway seemed to stretch on forever, with numerous doors on either side, until Gergo stopped at one and opened in, gesturing for the two of them to go inside.

It was the apothecary, markedly different from Magnus’ own with its more chaotic atmosphere. Nearly every surface housed magical objects and items, numerous bookshelves stuffed full with tomes, journals, and volumes were pushed against the walls, and a massive cabinet of glass vials full of potions, tinctures, and salves of varying colors sat snugly in the space just inside the room beside the door. “I’m prepared to prove my innocence, no matter what effort it may require from me,” he stated bluntly, taking a thin stack of papers from the desk in the corner. “This is how I created the warding. Whoever was able to slip between the cracks would have to know even more than just how to find the back doors—they would need to understand the minutia of the mechanisms I applied.”

Magnus looked at the outstretched hand and its proffered notes written in hurried cursive. After a few moments of reading, it became clear that there were extensive adaptations in the spellwork that made it unique. Whoever had managed to hijack it would need some prior knowledge. But… “You put in a tripwire.”

“I did.”

“And?”

“I haven’t been allowed access to the Spiral Labyrinth since the breach. So I don’t know.” Gergo walked around the desk to be opposite them and opened one of the drawers. “If it was triggered, this would detect it.” A small, round stone that was milky-white and appeared to encase something living inside that swirled in ceaseless, shapeless movements. “It acts like a magnet of sorts, attracting the energy source it touched.”

Alec came up behind Magnus, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out a test tube of a navy blue substance. “One of the best forensic pathologists in our Institutes managed to isolate the energy signatures that were found within the warding and then reduced it down into a concentrated form. This might be able to give us an answer.” He pulled off the stopper and held it out towards Gergo.

As soon as the stone got within a few centimeters of the substance, the swirling insides became frantic and turned a dark gray.

All three men looked up at one another.

“We’ll take this to the Summit tomorrow,” Magnus declared. “The sample Isabelle provided, and the stone.”

For a moment, Gergo just observed him with narrowed eyes.

If Alec weren’t with him, Magnus thinks, maybe he would be more inclined to have faith that he could be trusted with the responsibility. Things had changed when Magnus became Alicante’s high warlock—rumors had circled that maybe his alliance was shifting, maybe he had lost himself in the dizzy daydreams of his shadowhunter lover. He’d had to choose between his love and his people before, and he hoped never to face it again because it nearly tore him apart. But he was loyal to the people it was job, both formally and informally, to protect.

“Swear a blood oath,” Gergo finally said.

Without skipping a beat, Alec, still at Magnus’ side, pulled an adamas blade from his boot. “I’ll go first.” He glanced over at Magnus with an understanding expression that made it clear that he had gauged the situation correctly. He pressed the sharp point to his palm just hard enough to draw blood, and then clenched his hand into a fist so it dripped down onto the stone still writhing inside. “Et sanguis meus, ut accipiat fidem meam. Si fractum ita et ego.”

Magnus clenched his fist tight enough that his nails dug into his skin to break it. “Et sanguis meus, ut accipiat fidem meam. Si fractum ita et ego.” His blood fell slow in droplets, mingling with Alec’s in a way that made something in his chest go tight.

When they left, bloodied hands clasped together, Magnus felt Alec’s pulse against his in the midst of the wet warmth.

“That could have gone worse,” Alec pointed out, speaking quietly among the ambient silence of the woods.

Magnus chuckled wryly, looking over at him. “Politics are rarely ever a situation in which anyone wins.”

The soft crunching of snow beneath their boots with each step was abnormally prevalent with how quiet the city had become. The snow was still falling at a steady pace and accumulating on the ground, making a pristine and untouched layer of soft white.

“Well my love, since we won’t be getting much sleep tonight anyway, how about that bath you tantalized me with earlier?” Magnus suggested as he brought them to a stop.

Alec grinned at him like the sun rose and fell at his command, and Magnus had to look away to keep from being completely incapacitated by it. “That sounds perfect.”

Before the portal home could be summoned though, the clock tower that loomed above them began to toll midnight.

“Merry Christmas, Alexander,” Magnus murmured, putting his hands tenderly on either side of Alec’s face to bring him in for a kiss. It was soft and warm and tasted like snow.

“Merry Christmas, Magnus.”

[wehavethoughts]

Happy Homemade Home Review!

A Beautiful Mess: Happy Handmade Home: Painting, Crafting, and Decorating a Cheerful, More Inspiring Space By Elsie Larson and Emma Chapman Potter Style, New York. 2014.

This book certainly is happy! You will find lots of colors, patterns, and textures on every page. Happy Homemade Home is exuberant and encouraging. This interior design book wins points for it’s low-budget decor ideas and emphasis on creativity. Additionally it is well laid out and easy to read with lots of pictures.

Rating: I award 5 plump geese out of a possible 6 to a book that finds the beauty in the mess.

The best audience for this book is not afraid to try their own hand at something. Two-page DIY projects are spread all throughout the room-based chapters. The majority of the projects do not require tools, although specific materials like yarn or electrical tape are incorporated. The ideas are definitely oriented to include a wide survey of readers in terms of economic accessibility. It’s not a stretch to say that most people have tin cans or markers in their homes. The DIY projects do require a little pocket change, but ultimately make use of base materials one would already have in their home. Authors and sisters Elsie and Emma encourage readers to transform objects they already have mostly on the surface, through perhaps new paint, sponge-stamped geometric design, or added tassels. Most of the projects accessorize what you already have, often in a very crafty way. Some examples include a curtain made of patchworked silk scarves, ‘drawing’ with electrical tape on your fridge, and --perhaps my favorite-- using rubber dinosaur toys for book ends!!

Though not always the most refined, the approach works with what you already have, which I can appreciate for those starting out or who don’t have the time or resources to scour endless flea markets and antique stores. It’s also sustainable and anti-capitalist, which is always great. Elsie and Emma present readers with very realistic ways to brighten up or personalize items in their space, from a picnic table to a wall clock. Readers can take inspiration from any combination of the approach, the material, or the design. Furthermore, the styling can often be undone on more permanent features of a home, like walls, cabinets, even the fridge, which considers readers who rent, another plus. The most sustainable option is always second-hand, but there are many ways to get the job done, and re-styling what you have is definitely more sustainable and anti-capitalist than buying new.

One recurring section is called 9 Ways. Here, in one example, showcases coffee mugs and a variety of ways to decorate: washi tape stripes, drawn polka dots (baked in the oven to seal for food safety), wrapping twine around the handle, etc. Again, these are projects you can do with children, or if you’re not super artistic. These DIY projects don’t require complicated woodworking tools, cement mixes, or expensive fabrics. So, the trade off for economic accessibility is pieces that aren’t always the most durable or sophisticated. But they can be plenty cute, not to mention satisfying because you created it! The other items presented with multiple personalization possibilities are cloth napkins, vases, supply baskets, toothbrush holders, terra cotta pots and throw pillows. The 9 Ways part of the book offers possibilities without insisting on any color, application, or design, showing you finished products that can be taken in any direction or style you choose. The subtitle “painting, crafting, and decorating a cheerful, more inspiring space” accurately signals what readers will find beneath the cover.

The language in Happy Handmade Home transparently explains that readers should embody their own individual styles. Elsie and Emma never mandate that stripes should be ½” thick, or that ribbon should be tied counter-clockwise. The book avoids positioning itself as a rule book. The voice is non-authoritarian. The sisters dedicate the book to their father who instilled in them to be actively handy. The introduction sets the scene as a journey with three important messages: 

1) don’t be afraid to mess up 2) our ideas are only starting points, and 3) if you love it, love it.

Their welcome continues with prompts for some reflection, which is another reason for points in this review. There is an acknowledgment of one’s lived relationship with their space, that the solutions (though often physically surface level as per their ideas) engage deeply with one’s personality, desires, and sources of joy. I definitely plan on journaling through the lists they suggest. One teaser example is a list of colors you have a strong reaction to, positive, negative or mixed. Then you list what you’re reminded of with each color, then where you’ve seen positive examples of those colors in rooms or even movies and artwork.

Now for the not so good qualities: low-key white-washing and narrow assumptions on lifestyle. Most of the images come from Elsie and Emma’s own homes, and the two authors are young-ish American white women. So of course when showing their own spaces, the images will show a happy white lady in her home. However, even images in the Celebrate sections, which feature a different party-themed recipe and decorations, are close to celebrating only white kids, grandmas, girlfriends, etc. I appreciated the Celebrate sections because it’s another way of portraying decor as connected to how we actually live. Unfortunately, it’s really not diverse. Nothing varies outside of a traditional American concept of family. I cringed when I saw the Mr. & Mrs. mugs, you know, the kind of images where he has the bow tie and she has the red lipstick: it’s such a narrow and controlled expression of gender roles in a family. This limitation doesn’t present interior design as a meaningful means of self-care and personal expression for anyone, but rather as a way for white women to feel special. Which in itself isn’t problematic. Everyone deserves to feel special and to have a positive relationship between their mental and emotional self-concept and the material objects around them. But while I think Elsie and Emma’s decor is presented with a lot of possibility (‘do this in YOUR own way’), the majority of the images presented cater to a life lived by a narrow group of people. Most likely, most readers live this lifestyle, and so in a supply-and-demand mindset, the job was done well. However, if we truly consider interior design as empowering, cathartic, and simply a happy thing to do, these books need to do better.  

The ideas presented in this book are true DIY opportunities to engage with the material space around you and express your personality. Although the authors’ styles show clearly throughout the book, Happy Handmade Home presents itself as an example instead of an aspiration. I personally wouldn’t incorporate a lot of Elsie or Emma’s style choices into my home, but that’s a just taste thing! I definitely recommend some of the DIY treatments for those who want to get started or have limited resources. I’m sure readers can find at least a few ideas that they could do immediately without leaving home. I appreciate this book’s commitment to an interior design approach that avoids simply buying a thing, but instead cheers people on: you can actually do it yourself. You’re more powerful than you know.

Again, 5 precious geese out of a possible 6. Truly happy. Very hands on. Small budgets welcome. Let’s invite more people to the party.

With loving curiosity, DesignMod

[artificialqueens]

don't play the fool now (multi) — chapter five - Roza

[ summary ] : detox is feeling the pressure setting in as she completes the first day of her new mission though a distraction is paving her progress and bianca simply can't catch a break between a cute detective, katya and her own issues.

[ author's note ] : literally it's been so long I CANNOT, I am so so so so sorry omg... most of this was written about november so I am sorry if it's not up to par ): — lily xx

(´∩｡• ᵕ •｡∩`) / AO3 / My Tumblr

— *.✧

"Welcome to the place you'll be spending the next few months!"

Detox dropped the two boxes she was carrying in from the minute she had stepped into the elevator with Tatianna who had been showing her around the offices and police force building: this was by far the most idiotic and yet stressful mission the blonde had to deal with thus far.

Become an entirely different person

Pretend you're a transfer from another department

Get close to the captain of the unit

Murder or get information. Or both.

The details hadn't been worked out yet but Bianca had made it clear that Detox was not there to play around and flirt, she would be doing all the undercover work.

It was nothing but peachy keen to Detox. A frustration building in her bones. She had to spend the next few days, weeks, months acting like she was up to date with whatever the detectives and police force would make her out to be. Thank god she knew her narcotics, weapons and the basics: murder, how to get rid of fingerprints, stains, bruises, the stench off a dead body, all the things that being a professional had taught her.

She couldn't possibly be that useless.

Changing her hair was the worst part. No question.

Going from royal blue to a blonde bombshell wasn't exactly her style even if it definitely would cover up the overstated hair color and make her seem at least a tiny bit less suspicious with her long, flowing hair now blonde and curled thanks to Aquaria's whimsical hairstyling techniques.

"Welcome to me…" the words leaving her lips in an immensely hushed tone as she stared right back at the detective who gave a smile, eager to see another new worker around in their new and improved NYPD unit.

"You're gonna do great Heather, no doubt's honey."

She decided last minute to use her sister's name as her own for the time being, knowing Detox was a bit of a rough risk and besides: what better way to pay respects to the person and lawyer she had been closest to before going off to prison for substance abuse, smuggling of illegal substances and all the other things she had managed to hide from her transcript.

Bianca I fucking hate you, I really have to pull strings here and by myself.

The older girl butt in to her as the blonde had begun to set up her laptop and trinkets around, praying no more people would bombarde her for today. "You should totally get settled in but I know for a fact that Trinity wants to meet any of our new recruits! She's the unit's captain and I promise you, she's a bit hard hitting but super closested sweetheart."

Trinity .

So this was the person she had to play guessing games with the next few months and woe over in one way or another, to follow and pry her fingernails under.

"I'll definitely check her out."

"Thank you!"

She pulled out first a picture frame that held a sepia filtered photo of Detox, Alaska and Roxxy at their senior graduation together: all dolled up even from the beginning, it was odd to keep such sentiments from the pure and clean days before rotting in crime but what could she say? They were all still together, still best friends even if Alaska sometimes worried more for herself than anyone else, a bit colder than she used to be.

Once she had organized her things she stepped out of the door and made her way around the office, her acrylics hugging the file she had to give to one of her new co-workers for examination. They had spent hours working over the loophole with paperwork but luckily after careful examination and some strings pulled with Katya, they had come up with a solution and now she was Heather Sanderson, born in Maryland and a former employee of the local police department.

"Are you Heather?" A voice spoke behind her gently yet firm as Detox stared at the empty chair confused before wincing and turning quickly seeing a tall blonde with about her hair length and piercing eyes staring at her with intent for a reply back, her ID placed around lanyard which was littered with Canadian flags and text that reads Toronto across the fabric.

"Yes! Are you Brooke?" Nervously extending her hand she was met with a curious recluctentance before the Canadian smiled sweetly, sitting back in her seat once she parked her iced tea on the coaster she had sitting on her desk.

"I am, I know you have the files Tatianna was telling me about if I can look at them. Just the usual medical and background things I have to handle."

Detox looked over Brooke's shoulder, ignoring whatever the detective had to say towards her even though she was sure it was the usual welcome she had become so accustomed to since this morning. She had stepped through the doors starting her new mission, angry that Bianca had to assign her to such a damn cup out: go undercover and pretend you're a decent human being for a few months so we can get a deeper insight and information on the police and detective department.

Peering over her shoulders, she noticed a police officer of average height. Sporting the signature uniform as well as long brunette hair that curled at the ends—lighter highlights cascading from her roots: she had a great upkeep and hairstylist clearly though her dark brown eyes and perfect made over face was the focal point.

Fuck, she's gorgeous.

The same girl had taken off her jacket and threw it on her chair, continuing to chat with the person right near her point of vision, blinking as her makeup shined under the dimly lit up computer screen she was staring at meticulously. Her body hugging her tight fitting blouse and her badge shining.

Brooke tapped the older woman's shoulder with a laugh, "Stop staring with your mouth open, you'll catch flies." Detox rolled her eyes, not about to take shit from her new "peers" as if she were to become close to anyone she had to work within the next few months of the missions allocation.

"That's Trinity Taylor, she's our police unit's captain."

The sirens flared off in her head instantaneously once she fit the last piece of the puzzle: this was the girl, thegirl she had to woe and become close to and get information out of for Bianca, for the team.

Trinity was why she was getting paid and doing this entire mission.

"She's very pretty."

Brooke laughed, rolling her eyes at how dense the new rookie was being. "Yes, she's also got really thick skin, a cold hearted exterior and is surprisingly hilarious as ironic as that may sound." The Canadian shook her head, "She's single but I wouldn't try it, especially since she's your squadron leader and will absolutely give you the beat down no matter the call."

This mission definitely just got interesting.

"Oh don't worry about that, just seeing what I'll have to work with is all."

The brunette caught the eye of the gaggling stares, Detox immediately snapping from it and looking away completely embarrassed though she heard a slight snicker under Brooke's breathe, wanting to slap her. Hearing the thud of the boots under the tiles she simply stood her ground and was prepared to act as casual as possible.

"Morning Trinity." The Canadian hummed aloud, typing across her floral tape covered keyboard pretending to analyze the files while not so secretly deciding to eavesdrop and see where this conversation goes.

"Good morning Brooke Lynn." Trinity crossed her arms and took a look up and down Detox who stood with a permanent paralyzed fear in her eyes, she felt so damn fearless all the time and yet one glimpse of this girl had completely tore her down piece by piece and left her distraught. It was pathetically hilarious.  

"Jesus, I'm not gonna kill you for staring, not like I can blame you." She flipped her hair as Brooke coughed to hide the obvious smirk across her lips as she took a long sip of her iced tea that Adore had brought her from Starbucks. Going vigorously through the files she had managed to find her medical records and began her less than exciting examination.

"Hey, you're the one member of our unit, right?"

Finally feeling enough willpower to respond she bit her lip and nodded, "Yeah, Heather." Trinity gave a broad handshake, firmly holding her hand as the blonde licked her lips feeling a bit out of place already and obviously.

"Trinity Taylor."

"It's nice to meet the person everyone told me to go and scout out in the first place."

Trinity tilted her head to the side and chuckled. She was definitely amused that Detox was so reluctant to smile, to breathe since it was her first day: the atmosphere was always tense but that was just the job. The Floridian could only hope she wasn't threatening in her status and by her looks alone or else the training and all that came after would be a complete and utter disaster.

Detox wanted to slap herself, every time she glanced over or they made basic, polite eye contact her entire body jolted awake and she could tell by her change in expressions that she was utterly terrified. Which was extremely odd considering how calm she felt at her actual profession which was twice was horrifying and awful in danger, stress, you name it.

"Well, your first assignment with me is just a refresher, I'm sure you know basic training coming from another unit?"

"Absolutely."

She ran her nails through her blonde hair as Trinity handed back her files with her eyes gleaming and a smile slipping through, "See you soon, my office is down the hall." A flush crept up on Detox's face as she turned and gave a goodbye to Brooke Lynn who waved back and turned with an immediate sigh, taking one more sip from her iced tea.

"You're hopeless."

— *.✧

Bianca sat aimlessly in her chair, scrolling through the constant masses of emails she had to sort and help with, the requests and the actual patrons and then those who simply knew her as their boss. She had never given most of her own girl's and team her personal phone number to the fact she knew it be taken advantage off. Only three people had her number on this damn circuit: Sharon, Jinkx & Bob.

However, despite this there was still an influx of text messages that read off requests from the other girls to which Bianca would bitterly reply with them to email her and not have Sharon, Jinkx or Bob become the scapegoat for their needs and wants or better yet: just don't bother Bianca!

Well that wasn't entirely the truth however it was close enough.

She understood the tasks she had to take on as a leader even if it meant countless requests and permissions granted.

The older woman's phone buzzed and the corner of her lips curled into a smile, hoping it be Adore whom had been quite a good company even just through the phone the past couple days. Her humour, her personality, fashion sense, job— she was everything Bianca wasn't and it made every exchange the more exciting and yet, opened twice the bigger grey area between them.

From: Katya (3 Unread Messages)

"Oh just this fucking whore."

Relieved she didn't have to think about two hours for a reply Adore sent, She slid open her phone with her fingerprint and sighed before her eyes grazed over the messages plainly.

Bianca! девушка !

I believe we should go and see Trixie since you told me you need to make some transactions...

I can tell you that I would be glad to tag along and contribute ;) xx

Her fingers slid across the keyboard as she typed up a reply.

If you're driving.

You're more than welcome to come with.

She assumed the notification she got almost immediately after her texts was an indication that Katya was already on her way and that she should get ready for her.

I'm outside whenever you're ready, you know where I park.

Blatantly staring at her phone she got up and only took a small blue clutch purse and tied her hair up feeling nothing but discontent towards wanting a development between her and a fucking detective . She could almost slap herself, she actually wanted Adore to text her back and it felt fucking disgusting to actually enjoy human interaction that wasn't the usual rundown about missions, jobs or sewing.

Though the sewing usually only applying to Aquaria who would come and see her on the rare downtime they had. The younger girl always asking about her hems, a new sewing trick or what fabric to use for what kind of silhouette.

She locked her office and gave a quick holler to Jinkx who sat in the common area, reading a book and drinking what must've been her third or fourth cup of coffee judging by the dried stains that splattered across the white cup. Bianca interrupted simply letting her know she'd be with Katya to finish some needed exchange and business.

"Have fun, tell Katya and Trixie hello from me."

Bianca didn't care too much about getting money from Trixie, she was sweet and kept a secret well enough considering her position. Though half of that underlying sweetness was probably from the paralyzing fear that if she ever told anyone she'd be blown out on the spot, no hesitation by Bianca herself.

Approaching the blue BMW Bianca's eyes wandered through her backwoods garage, undeniably pressed that she had to even go to the bank and be in public. She kept her image hidden well, no one would ever suspect Bianca Del Rio as the most known menace and wanted mafia boss in New York. All they would see is a blonde, thick Russian accent and leather jacket on with her friend; black hair, thick mascara and quite the fashionable woman.

At least that's what Bianca had hoped for as a first impression.

Katya's grin sat permanently pursed across her lips as she took the car out of park, turning out of the secluded garage and looking to Bianca for any last minute changes, any final looks of reclusiveness. The older woman cleared her throat, her fingers running through the hair that stranded from her face as she put on her sunglasses with a hard roll of the eyes.

"Let's get this shit over with."

[lexiseigneur]

Part 2 Chapter 2: Out of the light, into the unknown

Lexi showered to rid herself of the stench of the city. Then she read, cozily tucked in her blankets. At some point, she fell asleep, her book forming a tent above her chest.

The slamming of a car door woke her. She frowned because this was not Quinlan. Whoever this was entered the house, and she jumped out of the bed and listened. Then because she did not want to meet that person in the confines of her bedroom, she flew toward the stairs and collided with him. Her brain was overwhelmed by dissonance.

This was clearly Quinlan. But it was not. She was screaming his name in her mind and the words sounded flat. They were not going anywhere. He could not hear her. The Bond was gone. His expression exacerbated her anxiety. Quinlan was as lost as she was.

“How?” she whispered.

She sighed when he touched her and his skin was rough and familiar. His arms around her were almost crushing.

“Are...are you hurt?” he asked.

“No. You?”

Lexi did not feel better that he was already looking for a solution. It only highlighted how clueless they both were. What good were two thousand years of experience in such a situation? He knew as much about the Bond as she did. And she knew very little.

“I am unharmed.”

“There...there must be a reason this is happening.”

Quinlan buried his face in her neck.

“We will fix this.”

His words were a little muffled and she wanted to cry because in the Bond, they always rang clear.

“There are only so many reasons the Bond can be disrupted,” she said. It was just another problem to solve. And together they had solved the impossible. They could do this. They had to.

“There is distance...” he said.

“Dense metals...”

He stood straight and alert.

“The jamming devices.”

“What? They don't work like that.”

“You deducted that we function on another plane...another frequency than the Strigoi. We could even perceive the original devices. Is it such a stretch someone might have modified them to produce this effect?”

“I really don't see how or why.”

Quinlan let go of her and drew his sword.

“With such interference, we are distracted… weaker. Perhaps whoever did this was not expecting my return to occur quite so early.”

It made sense. Lexi strained to listen to the sounds around the house. Mice, deer, birds, a few squirrels fighting nearby. No humans.

“I don't hear...”

“It does not mean they were not here. The range of the devices is limited, but they could be lying in wait on the edge of our perception.”

And with those words, he rushed outside and lifted his face to the breeze. Lexi imitated him and picked up irrelevant traces near the cars. Quinlan disappeared between the trees and she followed, hopeful. Had he detected something she had not? In those matters, he still had the advantage of his considerable experience.

Then he veered, one time then two then three and her hope died. He was not following a trail, his changes of direction appeared random.

After almost one hour, he stopped. His sword fell on dry leaves and his shoulders slumped. She could not feel him, but she was not completely blind.

“I don't know what to do,” he said.

His voice was hoarse and suddenly the possibility that the Bond might never be restored hit her.

“Quinlan…If we don’t find it...”

He winced. She took his hand and faced him. His eyes were fixated on a point on the ground, unseeing. Lexi knew that expression. He was looking for the silver place. If he unleashed his soul to surround her, its warmth didn’t reach her.

“I’m sorry, I failed. Please, try to find it,” he said still looking at the ground.

Lexi couldn’t bear his looking away. She reached for his face, caressed it, begging. Quinlan arms snapped around her. His hand dug into her hair, pressed her face against his chest.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

His heartbeat was familiar. Calming. Anchored by his familiar music, she plunged into herself.

Lexi opened her mind’s eyes, intact in that realm. She stood in the house that was her psyche. On her right, the plain wall used to be the entrance to a dark basement.

She faced the front door and ran to it. It was locked. So she pulled and kicked and even pleaded, but the door remained locked. Then she ran to the nearest window and pulled the curtains open.

There was no window, only another wall. She checked another curtain and met the same light green tapestry.

Lexi was the problem. The silver place was out of her reach, not Quinlan’s.

She opened her real eyes.

“I can't find it. I mean...it's blocking me. The door there is locked. I'm the one who changed. What did I do wrong?”

“You cannot be sure it's anything that you did. This is not something that ever existed before. We are wholly ignorant of its inner mechanisms.”

She mumbled how scared she was, but she wasn’t sure he could hear her.

“Lexi…I loved you without the Bond, and I will continue no matter what happens.”

She believed him but his absence in her head left a crippling abyss. For just a moment, she needed that pain to go away.

So she kissed him. In between those desperate kisses, she whispered words of love that now needed to be passed from lips to lips.

When they fell on the damp and uneven forest ground, she didn’t care. It only mattered that when he pressed himself inside her, the ache in her soul was forgotten.

After that moment, they continued kissing until her lips felt bruised, because that also dulled the emptiness.

They stayed on the rotting leaves, tucked inside Quinlan’s coat, until rain forced them back inside the house. Lexi wanted to drag him to bed and sleep. But Quinlan had other ideas.

He stood in the middle of the living room, dripping on the hardwood floors from the rain, seemingly lost in thought. Lexi knew better than to interrupt.

“The book might have answers,” he said and started toward the stairs.

She followed closely.

“What?”

“The Occido Lumen.”

She had not thought about it in years. Quinlan yanked open the metal trunk sitting in a corner of their bedroom and took out a wooden box. Inside the box, the pages of the Occido Lumen were bound together by string.

“I thought it was just a bunch of allegories and stories about Strigoi hunters.”

“When I translated it with the Professor and by myself, I focused on mentions of the Master and the Ancients. I only glazed over those that were not useful. But this would be the only place containing knowledge about our kind.”

The velum was yellowed by time but the illuminations still brightly colored. She recalled a conversation on their first encounter.

“There were others before you? You think they are mentioned in there?”

“I recall explanations about the silent voice of the Master. Perhaps we can find similar texts about the silent voice of the half-breeds.”

“They could have shared the Bond, if they met.”

“Indeed.”

He shed his harness and coat, dried himself and unbound the pages. Lexi did not have the desire to smile but it was close. If there were any clues to be found, Quinlan would have them sooner or later.

“Let's get to work,” he said.

Lexi assisted where she could. Mostly by waiting until the sun shone bright and high to take pictures of the hidden scriptures. As he studied the texts, she associated the pictures with their translations. She made three piles, one for the useless ones, another for the ambiguous ones and one for those whose content was unknown and possibly useful.

This took four days. When he was not working, she listened to his retelling of the contents he had just translated. That night they drank their lab-grown blood in front of a roaring fire.

“In the 9th century, a village on the coast of France became deserted in the span of three days. The author describes how strangers came with weapons and dug out the villagers from a nearby beach before killing them and burning their bodies. Those strangers never showed their faces as they wore hoods and masks.”

“Sun Hunters? Cleaning up the Master's mess?”

“So it seems.”

This story would join the pile of useless anecdotes.

“It highlights a particular point that has been nagging me,” said Quinlan. “The book is supposed to be a translation from Sumerian, from tablets found in Mesopotamia in the 16th century.”

“Yeah...unless whoever made the tablets was a time traveler, there is a problem there.”

“The author added much more than what the original texts contained. However, if I learned anything from my travels is that much is lost in translation.”

“You want the tablets?”

“I do. A primary source of information is always most valuable.”

“Where are they?”

“Destroyed by a French king when the author showed him those heretic writings.”

Lexi scowled. What was the point then?

“The Occido Lumen was also ordered destroyed,” he said and had a small grin. “One can surmise that whoever saved the book might also have saved the tablets.”

He seemed so convinced, she could not tarnish his excitement with her pessimism. Lexi could not afford to base her hopes on mere speculations.

“Where would we even begin to start looking for those things?”

“Where they should have been destroyed. In Paris.”

Her stomach dropped a little. She had not been back in that city since she had been human.

“Professor Morecci's connections could open doors in that milieu,” he said, finished his glass of blood and picked up the phone from the wall.

Lexi glanced at the time. It would be ten in the evening where she lived. Calling at this time might seem a little rude. But Morecci picked up after only two rings.

“Mr. Quinlan? How unexpected!”

This was followed by small talk that Quinlan generously indulged. Then he cut to the chase.

“I need help tracking a Mesopotamian tablet. It surfaced around 1667 in Paris and ordered destroyed.”

“That’s vague.”

“It might have last belonged to Madame de Montespan.”

“Now that’s better.”

“I’m sorry to say this but it is a matter of great urgency.”

“We are historians, for us there is no such thing as urgency.”

“Ciara, please.”

“Do you remember what we discussed last year?”

Quinlan rolled his eyes. This strange behavior would have amused Lexi in less problematic circumstances.

“Fine. I’ll do it. You drive a hard bargain.”

“Not really, you’re just unusually stubborn about very small things.”

“When would that be then?”

“I will let you know. Maybe Reykjavik.”

Quinlan sighed, wished her a good evening then hung up.

“What was that about?” asked Lexi as soon as he put the phone down.

“The professor has attempted to obtain my services as a speaker for those gatherings with her colleagues.”

“A conference, you mean? Why did you say no?”

“I am not a zoo animal.”

“They would come to hear you speak not to throw peanuts at you.”

Quinlan grunted and this time she could not help but laugh. It also dulled the emptiness.

***

The next day, they received a call from the curator of the Louvre Museum informing them they were welcome to examine their collection of Mesopotamian tablets. It was fortunate, since they were about to embark a plane bound for Paris. Quinlan had not considered the possibility of a refusal.

Inquisitive eyes followed them everywhere from the moment they entered the airport, until they sat in their first class chairs. They were blessed with a professional flight attendant who did not even flinch at their appearance. The other passengers ogled and whispered.

“Beverages?” she asked and leaned forward.

“No, thank you,” said Lexi.

Quinlan shook his head and the attendant walked on.

“You usually have a coffee at this point,” he remarked.

“I don't feel like it today.”

Several hours into the flight, two boys seating ahead of them still observed. Their heads poked from the sides of their seats and fascinated eyes followed Quinlan and Lexi's every move. Quinlan ignored them and focused on a troublesome passage of the Occido Lumen.

Signs of the author's madness were becoming more numerous. When he looked up, the boys still stared but much more quietly. A long and thing object protruded from the side of the seat in front of Lexi. It was an amalgam of straws, taped together into a lengthy stick. Its tip poked Lexi’s knee. She slept and didn’t notice. Quinlan sighed, and hailed the flight attendant. Intervening himself would likely involve the children screaming and crying. No need for this raucous.

The attendant confiscated the stick with stern warnings, and apologized quietly. Quinlan only wished for Lexi to rest. He hadn’t even notice when she had finally fell asleep.

Her hands twitched and her eyes moved rapidly, but he could not hear her dreams. It was tempting to lean back in his seat and let himself be submerged by their loss. Quinlan sat straighter and resumed his work. Self-pity did not solve problems.

Le Louvre had once been a royal palace built over the span of eight centuries. Quinlan had not visited Paris often across the centuries, merely a dozen times. But with each visit, he had witnessed the erection of yet another luxurious addition to the monumental palace.

Had this been travel for pleasure, Quinlan would have loved describing this remarkable endeavor to Lexi. At night, the city of light had not yet found itself. The streets were deserted, and it took lengthy negotiations for a taxi driver to take them to the museum. They stopped in front of the eastmost façade of the palace, an entrance exquisitely sculpted and divided by thirty-four columns. In the center, the large wooden doors opened and a tall black man ushered them inside.

“I am Jean-Pierre Abenon. Welcome to Paris.”

His accent was very thick. Quinlan shook his hand, much larger than his. When Lexi did the same, her tiny fingers were engulfed within his grip. When he spoke again, she had a vague smile. The historian took them to the secret and unseen parts of the buildings. There, beauty was replaced by the practical, with concrete and innumerable shelves. Under the Richelieu wing were stored the antique treasures not currently shown to the public.

“I took the liberty to start a little,” said Jean-Pierre as he rolled up his sleeves. “Here is a list of artifacts that could have belonged to Madame de Montespan.”

He gave them a binder containing a hundred pages. Each sheet represented one tablet and a summary of its history. Quinlan lifted a brow and exchanged a look with Lexi. She mouthed a quiet “wow”.

“Do you know Rabbi Avigdor Levy? He was a scholar executed by Louis XIV.”

“I’m afraid I don’t. How is he involved?”

“The tablets would have belonged to him beforehand. It doesn’t matter, your initial research is of tremendous help. Thank you.”

“Initial being the operative word. Please check what I gave you, and I will continue looking,” he said. He directed them to a desk with several uncomfortable chairs. Jean-Pierre trotted from shelf to shelf before returning to his computer. He repeated this dance over and over again with no sign of slowing. From time to time, he smiled to himself and printed another page.

Quinlan and Lexi poured over the considerable list. Those that were accompanied by a brief translation were easy to discard. None of them spoke of bloodsucking creatures. Most were bills, or simple letters. The desk was soon covered in neat piles arranged by Lexi.

“Here are the ones that are a definite no. Those are a maybe and those are really interesting.”

The first two nights they spent trimming away the tablets that were certainly useless. When they returned the third night, Jean-Pierre waved them in and positively ran toward the stairs leading to the basement. He babbled the entire way.

“I have found something that might be very useful to you! I’ve been sitting on that all day.”

“Jean-Pierre…when do you sleep?” asked Lexi.

“I had a few hours today. I don’t need much, never have. That’s why I work nights.”

“What have you found?” asked Quinlan.

“Trash. I found trash.”

“Excuse me?” said Quinlan.

Intrigued, they approached the desk on which a metallic chest rested. It was the size of a shoe box. Quinlan’s heart lept.

“Is that…?” asked Quinlan.

“It must certainly is.”

“Why did you call it trash?” asked Lexi.

“Well…”

Jean-Pierre put on gloves and carefully opened the chest. Lexi made a pathetic sound, and Quinlan wanted to scream in frustration. The chest was divided into six compartments filled with sand and loose stones. On closer inspection, letters that he now recognized as Sumerian were engraved on the largest fragments.

“Oh…I guess you wanted them intact…”

Jean-Pierre scratched the back of his head. There was a page tucked in the lid of the chest and Quinlan took it. The historian seemed to want to protest, then thought better of it. The paper stated the king had ordered the destruction of the Occido Lumen and six clay tablets.

Quinlan stared at the remnants, as though his gaze could reverse time and bring the pieces back together. He had been so convinced that the answer was there. That something in those strange etchings would bring back their home.

“That’s bad luck but you still have the seventh to work with.”

Both Dhampir turned to him as one, and Jean-Pierre startled.

“After you gave me the name of the person who possessed them before their destruction, I found proof he bought the tablets in 1606. It mentions seven tablets.”

“Where…”

Quinlan could not finish that sentence. Was it lost as well?

“The six tablets have peculiar compositions unique to the region where the clay was extracted. And there is only one other with the same composition…”

Jean-Pierre took a page still waiting in the tray of the printer.

“It’s in Cairo but it’s…weird.”

Under the picture of the tablet, there was a paragraph which included the word “gibberish”. The tablet was written in what appeared like Sumerian but besides the first line, nothing made sense.

“I don’t want to be touting my own horn but technically, I am the foremost specialist in the Sumerian language and this…”

He pointed at the page clutched in Quinlan’s hand.

“…is not it.”

“How is that possible?” asked Lexi.

“I’m not sure...Sumerian is not written like English or French, it’s closer to Japanese kanas. The symbols represent syllables. I see a pattern. It’s not random. But it doesn’t fit anything found in that region at that time, or even right now.”

His large smile was back.

“I like a challenge so…just give me time.”

“We don’t have time,” whispered Lexi.

“The tablet is 3000 years old, hardly news…” he said with a shrug.

Those historians. Quinlan closed his eyes and stopped himself from punching him. The man did not know, and he was helping.

“How long do you think this would take?” asked Quinlan.

Jean-Pierre’s gaze shifted from Lexi’s gloomy expression to Quinlan’s closed fists.

“It took decades to decipher Sumerian last time but…I have tools my predecessors didn’t have. If you hoped for an answer during your stay here huh…I’m sorry but that’s not realistic.”

***

During the flight back, Quinlan finished studying the Occido Lumen and found nothing of value. He did not tell Lexi. She rolled onto herself, staring at the carpeted floors. There was nothing else to do.

Lexi was sound asleep as Quinlan drove them to Greystone. When they arrived, she did not wake. Quinlan kissed her brow, where her stripes split toward her cheeks. Then he carried her inside and tucking her in bed. Exhausted, he hugged her, breathing in her loose hair then authorized himself to sleep.

He stood in a Parisian street, and carriages pulled by horses passed by him. When he looked down he did not wear the suit he expected but the rough cloth that had been his first garment. The sun did not burn. Another dream. Across the full street, Ancharia smiled.

“Mother?”

“One of them.”

She smiled and walked away. Quinlan’s mouth fell open and he forced himself to wake up. With a jerk, he opened his eyes and reached for Lexi’s shoulders.

He wanted to kick himself for being so unfathomably dense.

“Lexi…wake up.”

She grunted and buried her face in her pillow.

“II know what is happening. Why the Bond is gone.”

She turned to him.

“What?”

“We were wrong…we thought only three situations could cut off the Bond.”

“We know only three. What else?”

“How was I born, Lexi?”

She squinted, wiped her eyes and growled.

“I…Your mother was infected.”

“By the Master.”

“Yes? So?”

“Why would she flee? Why would she stay away from him? How did he not find her as she gave birth to me?”

“She was cut off from him,” Lexi murmured.

She shook her head.

“That can’t apply to us.”

Now Quinlan wished she would remain quiet for a moment, so he could listen.

“Quinlan? That doesn’t apply to us. We’re half-breeds. Hybrids are sterile. You never had children.”

“I never had a child with a human.”

“It doesn’t matter…the chromosomes they…they…”

Then she stuttered, unable to complete another sentence. Her heart knocked violently against her ribs.

“Lexi.”

She stopped mumbling and looked back at him. Her eyes were filling with tears. He had to control his own breathing as his heart felt too big for his chest. Quinlan pulled her close and waited until she quieted down. He had never wished for silence harder in his life.

“Lexi, listen.”

Together, they held their breath and focused. Quinlan cursed the house with its creaking bones, the wildlife scurrying about, and that damn wind.

…Oh.

Quinlan half choked. He held Lexi tighter and nuzzled her neck. She gasped because she had found it as well. It was tiny, less than a whisper, quieter than a mouse. A third heartbeat.

[scifigeneration]

How the US census kickstarted America's computing industry

by David Lindsay Roberts

An employee creates punch cards using information from a filled in 1950 Census Population Form. U.S. Census Bureau

The U.S. Constitution requires that a population count be conducted at the beginning of every decade.

This census has always been charged with political significance, and continues to be. That’s clear from the controversy over the conduct of the upcoming 2020 census.

But it’s less widely known how important the census has been in developing the U.S. computer industry, a story that I tell in my new book, “Republic of Numbers: Unexpected Stories of Mathematical Americans through History.”

Population growth

The only use of the census clearly specified in the Constitution is to allocate seats in the House of Representatives. More populous states get more seats.

A minimalist interpretation of the census mission would require reporting only the overall population of each state. But the census has never confined itself to this.

A complicating factor emerged right at the beginning, with the Constitution’s distinction between “free persons” and “three-fifths of all other persons.” This was the Founding Fathers’ infamous mealy-mouthed compromise between those states with a large number of enslaved persons and those states where relatively few lived.

The first census, in 1790, also made nonconstitutionally mandated distinctions by age and sex. In subsequent decades, many other personal attributes were probed as well: occupational status, marital status, educational status, place of birth and so on.

As the country grew, each census required greater effort than the last, not merely to collect the data but also to compile it into usable form. The processing of the 1880 census was not completed until 1888.

It had become a mind-numbingly boring, error-prone, clerical exercise of a magnitude rarely seen.

Since the population was evidently continuing to grow at a rapid pace, those with sufficient imagination could foresee that processing the 1890 census would be gruesome indeed without some change in procedure.

A new invention

John Shaw Billings, a physician assigned to assist the Census Office with compiling health statistics, had closely observed the immense tabulation efforts required to deal with the raw data of 1880. He expressed his concerns to a young mechanical engineer assisting with the census, Herman Hollerith, a recent graduate of the Columbia School of Mines.

On Sept. 23, 1884, the U.S. Patent Office recorded a submission from the 24-year-old Hollerith, titled “Art of Compiling Statistics.”

By progressively improving the ideas of this initial submission, Hollerith would decisively win an 1889 competition to improve the processing of the 1890 census.

The technological solutions devised by Hollerith involved a suite of mechanical and electrical devices. The first crucial innovation was to translate data on handwritten census tally sheets to patterns of holes punched in cards. As Hollerith phrased it, in the 1889 revision of his patent application,

“A hole is thus punched corresponding to person, then a hole according as person is a male or female, another recording whether native or foreign born, another either white or colored, &c.”

This process required developing special machinery to ensure that holes could be punched with accuracy and efficiency.

Hollerith then devised a machine to “read” the card, by probing the card with pins, so that only where there was a hole would the pin pass through the card to make an electrical connection, resulting in advance of the appropriate counter.

For example, if a card for a white male farmer passed through the machine, a counter for each of these categories would be increased by one. The card was made sturdy enough to allow passage through the card reading machine multiple times, for counting different categories or checking results.

The count proceeded so rapidly that the state-by-state numbers needed for congressional apportionment were certified before the end of November 1890.

This ‘mechanical punch card sorter’ was used for the 1950 census. U.S. Census Bureau

Rise of the punched card

After his census success, Hollerith went into business selling this technology. The company he founded would, after he retired, become International Business Machines – IBM. IBM led the way in perfecting card technology for recording and tabulating large sets of data for a variety of purposes.

By the 1930s, many businesses were using cards for record-keeping procedures, such as payroll and inventory. Some data-intensive scientists, especially astronomers, were also finding the cards convenient. IBM had by then standardized an 80-column card and had developed keypunch machines that would change little for decades.

Card processing became one leg of the mighty computer industry that blossomed after World War II, and IBM for a time would be the third-largest corporation in the world. Card processing served as a scaffolding for vastly more rapid and space-efficient purely electronic computers that now dominate, with little evidence remaining of the old regime.

A blue IBM punch card. Gwern/Wikimedia Commons

Those who have grown up knowing computers only as easily portable devices, to be communicated with by the touch of a finger or even by voice, may be unfamiliar with the room-size computers of the 1950s and ’60s, where the primary means of loading data and instructions was by creating a deck of cards at a keypunch machine, and then feeding that deck into a card reader. This persisted as the default procedure for many computers well into the 1980s.

As computer pioneer Grace Murray Hopper recalled about her early career, “Back in those days, everybody was using punched cards, and they thought they’d use punched cards forever.”

Hopper had been an important member of the team that created the first commercially viable general-purpose computer, the Universal Automatic Computer, or UNIVAC, one of the card-reading behemoths. Appropriately enough the first UNIVAC delivered, in 1951, was to the U.S. Census Bureau, still hungry to improve its data processing capabilities.

No, computer users would not use punched cards forever, but they used them through the Apollo Moon-landing program and the height of the Cold War. Hollerith would likely have recognized the direct descendants of his 1890s census machinery almost 100 years later.

About The Author:

David Lindsay Roberts is Adjunct Professor of Mathematics, Prince George's Community College and is the author of: Republic of Numbers: Unexpected Stories of Mathematical Americans through History.

This article is republished from our content partners over at The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. 

[anon-luv]

I’ll Never Be Her *(FINALE)*

Pairing: Jimin X Reader

Genre: Angst/ Romance

Summary: You loved him with all your heart, but he could only give you half of his.

Jimin was the love of your life, your night in shining armor when she wasn’t around.

She was his ex girlfriend,  his first love, actually she was his many firsts and she kept coming back.

He had warned you she was his weakness, but you didn’t listen, because to you having him even if it was only partially was better than not having him at all.

At least for now.

Rated M: Sexual Scenes and Languages that might not be appropriate for all ages.

Word Count: 5.2K+

Author’s Note:  Hey loves. Sorry for taking so long writing this chapter. I wanted it to feel realistic and not too overwhelming since the whole story was quite an emotional bomb. There is an epilogue coming out which will have a few surprises and let you peek in into Jimin’s and (Y/N)’s life 2 years down the road.  You can choose to stop here or go ahead and wait for the epilogue, it is up to you loves. It will be a short epilogue drabble so it may be up by next weekend. Thank you all for sticking through this!! I know we all divided into Teams for the boys and we all cried and debated over y/n’s life together. I hope you enjoyed this story and I am hoping you will enjoy my future ones. I have so many things going out of hiatus that will continue to be written and some new projects I am working on. My upcoming works so far include(for those curious souls): 

Goodnight Moon (BadGirlGoodBoyAU Jungkook OneShot)

Countdown To Us  Chpt 2 (SoulmateAU) TaexReader, YoongiXReader

Aphrodesia Chpt 1 (Jungkook StripperAU)Untitled (Jin BestFriendAU One Shot)

New (SEQUEL to Borrowed) Yoongi X Reader

I want to thank all my readers and mutuals for their support.

Specially @b-angst-tan who has been a lovely editor/ beta love her!!

I also want to thank @msserenityli for helping me choose the twins names lol. That took me forever and a day.

It took me forever to get the courage to post this, so I really hope you enjoy. Show me some love. I really enjoy reading your comments, messages, and tags when you reblog. LOVE YALL!

You were more than sure there was a knife piercing through your lower abdomen as you yelled obscenities up in the air for the world to hear.

Magical. That was what the birthing coach had repeated countless times as Jimin held your hand as you practiced breathing techniques in that vomit-green mat.

LIES! They had all been lies. The feelings, the breathing techniques, and the way Jimin had held your hand while whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

“I FUCKING HATE THAT MOTHER FUCKING SON OF A BITCH AND HIS FREAKING SPERM. CURSE HIM TO HELL!!!!” you yelled as Jin’s car came to a complete stop in front of the hospital driveway.

“I think you need to relax and breathe, remember like Ms.Hope made you do in those classes you took,” Jin said with a grimace as he jumped out of the car to help you out.

You glared at him through the window as he rushed his way into the building only to come out running with a wheelchair in tow, “You mean the ones you forced me to take??”

“Hey, I didn’t tie you down and take you against your will, I just signed you up and paid without asking you first” Jin opened the door carefully helping you up and placing you on the chair. A nurse came out after him to escort both of you into the lobby where a few other ladies grimaced your way as they patted their stomach while they panted almost in a synchronized fashion.

“We just need some information sweetie, think your partner here can take care of that while we wheel you to the back to start our assessment??” the older looking nurse asked as she took over the wheelchair.

“We are not together together, but sure. Don’t worry about it (Y/n), I got this.” Jin replied as another wave of contractions hit you full force.

“Ahhh ….okay...okay” you shouted as you were rolled into a light blue hallway, Jin no longer by your side.

You took deep even breaths trying to relax your tensed up muscles. Your birthing plan had not included a solo labor, but unless Jimin had some sort of superhero intuition you would have to adapt and conquer the situation.

“Okay hun, let’s get you in a gown before anything. How far apart are your contractions??” she asked as she assisted you on your swollen tomato red looking feet.

“Umm…. I would have to say between. Every 6 to 8 minutes and about 30 seconds each… I think-” you replied slightly stuttering as the weight of the situation started falling upon your shoulders, you were about to become a mom. Your eyes widened with a mixture of excitement and fear.

The nurse smiled softly in your direction, “Don’t worry about it. You got this, you are a strong one I can tell” she said winking your way.

You nodded at her silently as she started making her way out of the room.

“Go ahead and rest. The doctor should be in at any second” she said closing the door behind her.

You made yourself right at home laying on the strange and slightly hard medical bed. The monitors in the room were scattered around the place making the place feel a tiny bit intimidating. The 40 inch TV on the wall seemed oddly comforting and homey and you would be more than delighted if you could only figure out how to turn it on without falling on your face as a weird plan started flowing through your mind of standing on a chair and jump to reach the power button. The plus and minus button on the white control on your bed seemed to be the solution as you examined it closely, scared it would send one of the monitors into a frenzy you clicked it cautiously as if the slow touch would lessen the trigger of whatever was about to happen.

“I hope to the heavens this doesn't set off an alarm” you whispered to yourself as you made your mind up to click the plus sign. As soon as you pressed the red button the bed vibrated and roared to life as your feet rose up in a surprisingly high speed tilting your feet up towards the air whilst your hospital gown scooted upwards leaving all your lady bits uncovered.

With your luck, it shouldn’t have come to your surprise to hear the door slam open right on time to witness your a la nude display, a deep low chuckle flowed through the air, “I see you are anxious to get them treasures out huh??”

“Oh shit, I mean I am sorry for cussing … I just… sorry Doctor Kim” you stammered out trying to cover your blushing cheeks with your hands.

“Don’t worry about it, darling. I heard you cussing down the hall, as long as those bad words are not thrown my way we are all peachy in here, now let’s get them feet back in place huh??” he replied with a chuckle as he pressed a button on the side of the bed leveling you out back in place and raising the headrest a tiny bit making everything more comfortable.

You eyed the handsome doctor from top to bottom taking in the contrast of his serious demeanor versus his kind words. As if he knew he was carefully examined he threw a rectangular smile your way quickly lifting up the tension in the room.

“These beds can be tricky, and quite amusing if you are in the right mood.” He said as he slipped on some gloves, “Now let’s take a look and see how far along you are. Open your legs slightly for me… this might feel slightly uncomfortable. Do you blush quite this often on a daily basis??”

Your blush depend as you managed to shake your head no as you felt a cold sensation making you jump slightly in place.

The door opened once again at that exact moment, Jimin’s head poking in looking flushed and slightly out of breath, “Sorry am I late??? I came here as fast as I could manage with the after-school traffic” he said as his eyes wandered around the room taking in the dull colors on the walls and weird medical jargon scribbled across random anatomy posters, then landing straight on the sight of Doctor Kim with his hand right up your gown.

Jimin coughed awkwardly, trying to remind himself he was in a professional setting and that he had to get his mind out of an endless pit of the gutter it had landed on as his instinctive self-had placed almost automatically as he came to the realization of how handsome Dr.Kim truly was.

“Actually, you are right on time to assist on labor pains. She is dilated at a 6 and currently on active labor" Dr. Kim explained as he stood up taking both of his gloves off as he walked towards Jimin, “Now it is expected of the father to assist the mother of his children through this enchanting life changing yet painful journey through comfort during these times, but if you give her any trouble I will personally kick your ass out of here, and it will no longer be Doctor Kim in the room, but Kim Taehyung just an FYI buddy” Dr. Kim stated as he gave him an innocent broad rectangular smile his way and a wink your way.

“Epidural??” Dr. Kim asked as if the previous conversation hadn't happened a few seconds ago.

You nodded, “I think I am going to….Ahhh,” you said being cut off by another rush of contractions.

“Got it… the anesthesiologist will be right in” Dr. Kim stated as he walked out of the room leaving you alone with a disheveled looking Jimin.

You frowned his way trying to ignore his presence yet failing. You were clearly mad and frustrated at him and he knew it.

“(Y/N), I am sorry… I  had to go” Jimin began to explain as he approached your bedside. His voice barely above a whisper and trembling at the end. You knew he was on the verge of tears, but at this point, you could care any less as another yelp came from your lips from the stabbing sensation on the back of your spine. You breathed in deeply trying to ease the painful sensation that had traveled upwards making your whole body squirm uncomfortably.

“You … didn’t have to go Jimin. No one was holding a gun to your head. You went because you wanted to, you needed to be there for Stephany, even if it meant leaving me behind AGAIN” you said as the pain that flowed through your eyes switched to rage as you eyed him from head to toes.

“No no, that is not at all what it is. It has never been Stephany (Y/n). I went to say goodbye. Yoongi called me, and he told me he was planning to propose a change of scenery to Steph and I knew I had to say goodbye, not to Stephany so much as I had to go say bye to Nataly. That little girl is like a niece to me and she reminds me so much of the bright and cheerful Stephany I had once called my best friend. She has so much light in her and I… that little girl is like a piece of Stephany I thought had been lost and I am so scared that she will get hurt just like her mama did. I have been there for her just as much as I have been there for her mom, and I know the whole situation Stephany is putting Yoongi and Nataly through is completely unfair to the both of them. I should have been there for you… I am sorry” Jimin replied as he buried his face in his hands, “I am so sorry, and I know that won’t change a thing but-”

“AHH!” you screamed as your uterus roared to life once again making every other issue in the world seem minute to the immense pain now bursting through you.

Jimin ran towards you grabbing a hold of your hand immediately, “Breath (Y/N), Breath…”

“Easy for you to say you son of a bi...AH!!!!” you replied earning you a grimace from Jimin’s whose hand looked redder than a tomato as you held on to it as your life depended on it.

Sweat was now dripping down your forehead as Jimin ran his fingers through your hair and counted breaths easing you out of the contraction.

“That felt like it was a lot longer than the last one,” you said as you adjusted yourself. The previous discussion left behind as the reality came once again crashing full force in your face, “Jimin… I am scared” you admitted in a quiet sob as he scooted himself into the bed beside to you.

“It is okay to be scared love. If you weren’t I would be scared. Our lives are about to change in a manner of hours...maybe even minutes. You and I have not had the greatest of relationships in the world, and I took you for granted for so long… I can’t even fathom to ever forgive myself, but I can tell you right now that I am going cherish every single second of the day beside our little angels tenfold. You are my family (y/n), and if you can give me another chance to prove it to you...I would give my world up for you. I know today was not the greatest of examples, and once again I shouldn’t have been scared to let you know what was going on. You are more than just my girlfriend, you are my partner in crime and I should treat you as such. I LOVE YOU! I will love you always and forever...even if you choose not to be with me anymore” Jimin said as tears slowly traveled down his reddened cheeks.

You took a deep breath swallowing the words he had spilled as a sweet hot chocolate on a cold winter’s night. The tension that had been sown into your aching muscles relaxing almost into nothingness, but before you could utter a word another contraction pushed through the surface once again throwing you into fits of rage.

“JIIIMIIIIN!!!!” you yelled painfully as he bravely took both your hand in his.

“Breathe (y/n). Close your eyes and imagine little hands and feet, and the smell of baby shampoo, the pain is worth it …. The pain will be less and less” Jimin tried to soothingly whisper in your ear.

“BULLSHIIT!!! This pain will not goo AHHHWAY!” you said almost ripping his hands off as you grasped onto them tighter, the pain increased to a level it hadn’t before knocking your breath out of the continuous rhythm it had settled into before making you slightly dizzy and nauseated.

Doctor Kim came in with a smile on his face, “Well won’t you look at that monitor, we are definitely close, and the anesthesiologist is barely on his way! Let me check you once again because your contractions have definitely increased in duration… If you excuse me”

Jimin nodded looking at the doctor wide-eyed as he assessed you once again as the cold sensation of the gloved made you wiggle with the alien sensation.

“Well...we can’t wait much longer you are at a 9 now. That was quick…” Doctor Kim said talking more to himself than anyone else in the room.

The door opened as Jin walked in looking at the floor lost in thought, “I swear they have way too much paperwork….. Like how many times did I have to print your name?? Don’t they have those sticker name labels or something??” he complained as he plopped himself on the nearby couch finally looking up to inspect his surroundings. Jin smiled at the doctor and then looked at Jimin with relief clearly radiating off him.

“You made it!!” Jin screamed enthusiastically. I frowned his way as I put two and two together, but right before I could question him….

“AHH!!!! MOTHERFUCKING SHIT!! THIS HAS GOT TO STOP HURTING SO MUCH!! WHERE IS THE FREAKING EPIDURAL COMING BRIGHT AND SHINY DOCTOR!!!??? WIPE THAT SMILE OFF YOUR FACE!!!” you screamed not really paying attention to anything you were saying, “NEVERMIND NEVERMIND DONT DONT STOP SMILING!!! IT IS PRETTY!!!! YOU ARE PRETTY! FUCK JIN YOU CALLED JIMIN AFTER WE FUCKING KISSED!!!”

“You kissed??” Jimin asked completely shocked sending a death glare towards Jin.

“I smell drama” Doctor Kim said winking at both their ways.

“She was confused Jimin… she could only think of the worst possible scenario at that point, and I mean it wasn’t even that long of a kiss cause her water broke….and wait doctor shouldn’t you be doing something?? You wink too much” Jin said defending himself as your screams only got louder.

“You do wink too much...Look I don’t care about the kiss. All I know is that I am glad you were there when I wasn’t. Jin you deserve…” Jimin said to Jin almost completely blurring your loud pants only to be cut off when you screamed once again.

“JIMIN MAKE IT AHHH!” you said as the pain started to subside once again.

“Okay, well the epidural won’t do much at this point. We are going to go ahead and prep her for delivery. Are you ready to start pushing??” Dr. Kim asked as he started to make his way out the door.

“I don’t…” you stuttered.

“PERFECT! What about you Daddy??” Dr. Kim said genuinely smiling at Jimin for once.

Jimin looked your way as his face brightened as fresh tears traveled down his cheeks, “More than ever”

Jin grimaced as he stood up from the couch, “This is my queue to walk out of here before my face hits the floor. I fainted when they showed us the birthing video in class, I can only imagine what a live one will do… I will go wait at the waiting room with Nat and Yoongi”

You turned towards Jimin questioningly, “Wait… why is Yoongi here?? Is Steph okay??”

Jimin placed a finger on your lips, “Shhhh…. I will explain later. Steph is no longer my problem. This is a moment for you and me only. Everyone else is a speck of dirt in this infinity galaxy that is us, now are you ready?”

“More than ever” you replied as Jimin kissed your forehead. For a second a smile adorned your face...For a second until another contraction made its way.

2 pairs of eyes, 40 baby toes, 2 pairs of chubby little feet, a full set of hair, one head a little on the bald side with very light thin hair, and 2 cries that sent your world into a spiral of happiness.

Roilan was born at 20:17 with a full cry that rattled throughout the hallway, a future opera singer was what Dr. Kim said as soon as he burst into baby cries.

Leilani was born at 20:25 a lot more stubborn to let the world know she had made an appearance. It took a bit of coaxing to get her to cry, but as soon as Doctor Kim assured her health seemed to be at 100%  she was back asleep almost automatically.

There was something incredibly magical of watching Jimin cradle both babies as he sang soft sweet lullabies as their little hands wrapped around his fingers.

“They are beautiful” Jimin whispered to himself as tears threaten to spill down my face.

“To be honest they look like little old people, a little swollen and wrinkly but nonetheless beautiful” a deep voice called out from the door, “It happens with all newborns, so don’t worry in about a few hours the swelling goes down and they look a hella lot cuter”

“Yoongi??” you asked out loud confused as he entered the door with a very excited Nataly in his arms. As soon as he placed her down on the floor she came running towards you with an excited and curious glint in her eyes.

“Aunty (Y/N), did you already have your parasites??” she asked clapping her hands in delight.

You raised your eyebrows confused, “What Natty??”

“Yeah, my dad was talking about how babies eat out of the mommies like parasites” she explained nodding her head in full understanding.

“Well … umm... That is strangely correct, but it doesn’t sound too nice to call them parasites, but we can call them Leilani and Roiland.” you replied as you patted the unruly golden hair on her head.

“Leili and Roy!!” she scram now running towards Jimin who quickly smiled her way as she kissed both heads and started talking to babies as if they could understand her perfectly, both pairs of eyes trying to focus on her for now blurry figure as they tried to suck on their hands.

You turned to look at a smiling Yoongi, “Parasites??” you questioned him with an eyebrow raised.

“You tell me how I was supposed to explain it to a little girl. She asked why every 4 words… Anyway, congratulations love!” he said engulfing you in a hug which you returned automatically.

You looked behind him expecting to see Stephany walking in at any second. Yoongi’s eyes traveled to your line of sight, “No, she is not here, and she won’t be around for a while”

“But you and Nataly?” you asked concern written along the creases in your forehead.

Yoongi just shook his head, “Steph thought it would be best to let us go, at least until she is better, but at this point… I am not sure if she is coming back”

You nodded now understand as to why Jimin had run away from your side earlier today. You turned to look at Jimin and Natalie as they simultaneously sang ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’ to the once again sleeping twins.

“I am sorry Yoongi I wish…” you replied only to be cut off by his hand interlacing with yours.

“No. There is nothing any of us could’ve done to help her. We tried. We all did. Jimin sacrificed so much and at the end of the day, she always fell back to old habits. I had a lot of people tell me she had to hit rock bottom to actually try and help herself out of this, and maybe she finally did. All I need is that little girl by my side to keep me going. She deserves a whole lot more than I have been able to give her in her short life, and I am going to make sure I fulfill my duty as her father and best friend. My focus will be on her. She needs me, and if Stephanie ever decides to come back... Well, that would be nice, but I am done waiting” Yoongi said confidently, “Now I am sorry to interrupt your moment, but Nataly and I just came by to say goodnight. It is late and time for her bedtime. Jin wanted us to wait a little longer, but Nataly wanted to see the babies before she fell asleep.”

Nataly kissed Jimin and the twins goodnight and then jumped on the bed to kiss your forehead and engulf you in a hug with her tiny little arms, “Love you, Auntie”

“Love you too princess. Be good with your Dad” you replied as you watched her jump into Yoongi’s arms as a gummy smile appeared on his face.

She smiled back at you, “Always”

Jin came in an hour later with 2 giant bears. One pink with a giant tutu, and one blue with a baseball bat. He tiptoed into the room afraid to wake up the twins as they both slept on their baby hospital beds.

“You know Jin you can just walk normally in here,” you said to encourage him to walk quickly to your bedside. Jimin had fallen asleep in the recliner as if he had been the one who had just given birth and pushed out two little humans through his privates. Soft snores spilled from Jimin’s plump lips as Jin peeked in to see the twins.

“They are so cute and tiny” Jin squeaked out in a quiet yet excited tone.

“Yep yep. I make cute babies..what can I say” you replied winking his way.

Jin placed the bears on the side table and then sat on the edge of your bed, “Winking might just be contagious, you are not allowed to hang out with that doctor anymore (y/n). I am glad everything went okay.” his eyes traveled to a sleeping Jimin, “and I am glad you are happy”

You nodded as you reached over to take his hand, “I am… and I am sorry.”

“Wait, what are you sorry for??” Jin asked quietly tilting his head to the side making his manly features look like those of a lost puppy.

You sighed scared to speak the words out loud, as if by not saying them everyone can go about like it had never happened, “The kiss” you stuttered, “I am sorry it took me so long to realize how you felt, and I am really sorry…”

“You don’t have to say it” Jin cut you off looking towards Jimin, “I know…”

“But you don’t. If things between Jimin and I weren’t so complicated. If I had the strength to just let go….it would be you” you said as silent tears traveled down your cheek.

Jin scooted his way closer to you and grasped your face with his hands delicately as if you were made out of this world’s finest crystals, “(Y/N), that is the thing… I am not what you want. You and I are best friends no matter what, through thick and thin. Maybe I should’ve told you how I truly felt, but I knew that with what was going on between you and Jimin it would be taking advantage of the situation and I didn’t want that. I wanted you. I want you.”

You shook your head, “Jin you deserve so much more than me. You need to be someone's number one, just like you told me so many times. You are gold Jin”

“You are gold” Jin replied instantly, “I think I need to go ahead and go home for the night. I will go by your apartment and make sure the doors are locked”

“Thank you Jin,” you said unsure of what you should really say.

Jin nodded and turned to face the door walking almost reluctantly out the door.

“Wait, Jin!” you yelled unconsciously.

Jin turned to face you puzzled at your sudden outburst.

You slowly sat up from the bed and wiggled up on your feet slowly marching up to him, not quite sure about what you were doing at this point.

As you stood right in front of him you tippy-toed and laced your arms around his neck and rested your head on his chest, “I love you Jin. I love you so so so much, and I wish I could be in love with you too, but I am in love with Jimin and it would be highly unfair to you.”  You separated yourself from his chest and peered up into his eyes, “Best Friends??”

Jin leaned in and placed a soft kiss in your forehead, “Best Friends until a Zombie Apocalypse falls upon us and I get bitten, then I can make no promises I will want to eat your brains… of course if it makes you feel any better I would choose your brains over any others”

“You are so weird” you chuckled as you let him go.

The soft cries of Leilani shook you both back to reality, “I am thinking she might be hungry, she has only woken up to eat so far”

“Time to go then,” Jin said waving a small bye as he stepped away.

As soon as Jin was out of sight you heard some movement from the corner of the room “She is more than likely hungry”  Jimin’s voice surprised you as you scooped her tiny body up in your arms.

“I think so too. She is a sleepy head” you sat on the bed and latched her onto your breast which she quickly took as her little hand went into a tight fist.

Jimin walked towards Roilan who was still quietly sleeping, “I still can’t seem to believe they are already here”

“Yeah me either,” you said smiling.

“(Y/N), I heard what happened with Jin, and I am sorry for everything I put you through, but is it true?? Are you still in love with me”

You nodded right away, “I have no doubt I am, but to be honest I am not sure what I want to do right now. I need to focus on the babies and every time I let you in we fall back into the same routine. We can give this another go, but we would have to start from the beginning once again you just have to give me some time to adjust to everything.”

“You can have all the time you want” Jimin replied as a bright smile appeared on his face, “This is like the best day ever”

“Calm down there. When I mean from the beginning I mean literally dates and all” you replied, “Nothing too serious or dramatic until I feel comfortable”

Jimin nodded, “I will take anything I can get, but will it be too much to ask for a kiss??”

A deep voice broke through the room catching you and Jimin by surprise, “Did you not hear the lady?? She said to CHILL! Anyway congratulations on your bundles of joy, how are you feeling??” a civilian dressed Doctor Kim Taehyung asked as he approached you with a small gift bag, “This is for your minions and this is for you” he replied handing you 4 large sunflowers that shined as bright as him. A small card rested upon the petals which you quickly opened curiously. A blue inked phone number was scribbled across with a smiley face.

“That is my personal number in case you ever need anything… and now that you are dating… casually...” Taehyung replied winking playfully your way.

You chuckled at his joking demeanor while Jimin’s sudden change of mood was written all over his frowning face.

“Anyway I have to go sleep, the bed is calling to me. Goodnight!” Doctor Kim said walking away without giving Jimin another glance.

“Goodnight Doctor Kim” you replied earning you a cheeky smile from the clearly amused doctor.

“You can call me Tae,” he said as he skipped his way out the door.

“I don’t like him,” Jimin said sitting next to you in the bed.

You rolled your eyes at his pout and then leaned in quickly to kiss him catching by surprise.

“But I like you...scratch that I love you. I am so in love with you” Jimin rambled on and on until you once again leaned in to capture his plump pink lips. You knew you had told Jimin you wanted to take things slow and at your own pace, but you had a feeling that wouldn’t last too long with all these boundaries you were trying to set between the both of you. You were so head over heels in love with him, and you could finally confidently say he felt the same.  At that very moment, everything felt perfect, and then not only one cry but two cries erupted loudly through the room forcing both of you to separate from the passion filled kiss.

“Welcome to parenthood” Jimin whispered happily.

“That smile won’t be there for long, especially at 3 in the morning Jimin” you replied as you traded babies now latching Roilan on, “Leilani requires a burping session and then diaper change”

“Yes Ma’am” he replied in an over exaggerated deep voice as he saluted.

Hey loves. Sorry for taking so long writing this chapter. I wanted it to feel realistic and not too overwhelming since the whole story was quite an emotional bomb. There is an epilogue coming out which will have a few surprises and let you peek in into Jimin’s and (Y/N)’s life 2 years down the road. Some stuff will not be pink and fluffy, and there is like I said a little twist in the story which to be honest I am still debating myself about. You can choose to stop here or go ahead and wait for the epilogue, it is up to you loves. It will be a short epilogue drabble so it may be up by next weekend.

Thank you all for sticking through this!! I know we all divided into Teams for the boys and we all cried and debated over y/n life together. I hope you enjoyed this story and I am hoping you will enjoy my future ones. I have so many things going out of hiatus and will continue to be written.

My upcoming works(for those curious souls):

Goodnight Moon (BadGirlGoodBoyAU Jungkook OneShot)

Countdown To Us  Chpt 2 (SoulmateAU) TaexReader , YoongiXReader

Aphrodesia Chpt 1 (Jungkook StripperAU)

Untitled (Jin BestFriendAU One Shot)

[artemisnightingale216]

Ch 2- A New Beginning

Authors Note: We have some very special cameos of some fan favorites that are sure to leave you laughing! I hadn’t planned on adding them in now or possibly ever, but they made it in anyway! I hope I did them justice!

Prologue

Chapter 1- Unemployed

Ottilie was at a lose. A month had already come and gone since losing her job at the studio, yet she still had nothing to show for it. It wasn’t has if she’d sat around wallowing in her sorrow, heavy as it may be. She’d looked tirelessly day after day, walking to business after business, her feet sore to the point of throbbing each night she’d come home.

It was only a few days prior that she nearly ran right into the Exterminators, the angel-esc creatures always arriving with no warning to carry out their duty, but had hidden just in time to escape them. She’d watched the carnage from her temporary safe haven, horrified but unable to look away. Only when the screams died out and all was quiet did she finally emerge, many others doing the same as they either raced home or started riots as they ransacked everything in sight. Never having had any interest in such disrespectful actions, she’d ran straight home and slid her back down the door once inside, sitting there in silence until her breathing and heart rate returned to normal.

Perhaps it had been wrong of her to think it, but the next day she had been secretly grateful they’d come; the number of dead demons meant there would be plenty of new job openings and had given her a brief feeling of hope, but that was quickly tarnished when she learned all too quickly that jobs went just as swiftly as they came. Most jobs she’d inquired about told her that she was hours too late, but one had told her she was only minutes. Discouraged despite the fact that it would have been low paying and not something she would have loved like she did at the studio, she’d left and returned home once again. After that, she hadn’t bothered looking. There was no point beating a horse that was already dead.

So there she sat in the living room, staring at nothing in particular as she rocked idly in her antique rocking chair, the usually soothing action doing nothing to ease her worries. The end of the month was coming all to quickly and she had nothing left to give her landlord. She would be kicked out as soon as she found out and she’d be left on the streets, which only made living in Hell all the more dangerous. She didn’t want to guess what would happen to her then.

A sigh escaped her before she rose out of the chair, her body feeling heavy with the urge to sink back into it. It did her no good to sit around and mope while she waited to be inevitably homeless. With nothing else to do, she distracted herself by cleaning.

She had never necessarily been a messy person, but work had always kept her busy enough that she neglected the more menial chores. It seemed dusting was a must, as a fine layer of the pesky particles had settled over some of her lesser used household objects, but a bit of cleaning solution fixed that up and left them sparkling like new. Next, she brought out a stepladder from the hall closet and worked at clearing the cobwebs from that had been starting to from in the corners of her ceiling, the disturbed dust floating around in the air making her sneeze on more than one occasion. When that was done, she polished the few pieces of silver she had on display in a small glass case hanging on the wall in her living room; she knew she would have to sell them eventually, though doing so now would do her no good seeing how they were hardly worth the cost of her rent, and told herself they would be her last resort. Afterwards came the floors, which weren’t terrible but did need a good scrubbing after all her years walking on them, the finished wood floors almost gleaming like mirrors, though thankfully not enough to see her own reflection. The wallpaper was her last task and took up quite a bit of time, the edges having started to peel back and needing re-glued before being smoothed out.

All together, this kept her occupied for a few days and she hadn’t thought much about her current predicament. Now that it was over, however, there was not much left to distract her. She tried reading from the small collection of books she had, but that proved fruitless as she couldn’t concentrate on the words in front of her. She even tried designing a new dress or two, but gave up when she realized she had no one to give it to.

Not for the first time, she found herself missing Angel. His spunky attitude and sass had always found a way to lift her spirits even when she found herself in the darkest of places, but now she felt his absence when she really needed him most. A part of her had hoped he would come and see her, but had to remind herself that she had never once told him where she lived. She had considered going to see him at the studio, but didn’t want to get in his or anyone elses way. Aside from that, it might be too painful for her, and that was something she could not handle right now.

Normally, she’d find comfort in being in the small cottage she called home, but after having been cooped up in it for several days it felt like she was suffocating. Deciding to act on her idea before she talked herself out of it, she changed into a fresh dress and put on her thick overcoat before stepping out into the ‘fresh’ air, or at least as fresh as it could get in Hell. Heading to nowhere in particular, she walked the streets with her head down, avoiding eye contact with everyone and ignoring their crude remarks just as she always did. She didn’t even bother looking at shops in hopes of seeing any help wanted signs, knowing she would see none.

Ottilie was not long into her walk before she found herself regretting it as an apparent turf war broke out. The street had been comfortably quiet, only a few demons walking along the sidewalks in the lesser occupied area of the Pentagram, when suddenly the ground beneath her feet trembled. She paused and looked around, wondering if anyone else had felt it too, but everyone seemed oblivious. Thinking it was just her nerves after having been cooped up for so long, she pressed on, but only made it a few steps before she felt another tremor, this one accompanied by a loud boom. This time, everyone on the street stopped and looked around in confusion, some even coming from neighboring streets just to see what the noise was. Another boom followed a tremor, both of them much closer than before, nearly knocking people off their feet as they stumbled a bit.

A deafening silence hung in the air as the noises suddenly stopped. Confusion set in further and everyone held their breath, waiting to see if it would happen again. A long howl of pain suddenly broke the silence, the outcry sounding as if it were getting closer and closer by the second. All heads turned to the right as a long black mass came flying out of a nearby alleyway before colliding with a car parked in the street. A sizable dent was put into the automobile and a demon slid down onto the asphalt, his tail coiled beneath him in an unruly manner as he groaned and rubbed at the back of his neck.

The demon was much taller than they’d originally thought, but that may have had something to do with his long serpentine tail, which made up the entire lower half of his body. His waist, chest, and arms were thin, especially in comparison to his thick lower half, but were made even more so by the black and yellow pinstripe blazer he wore, the padding in the shoulders almost making them look broader. His yellow undershirt was centered with a fuchsia colored eye, but whether or not he could actually see out of it was anyones guess. His underbelly was lined with two strips of light yellow, two rows of the same colored eyes as the one on his chest running down the length of them, and the yellow underside of skin that extended from his head, giving him the illusion of hair, also had two matching sets of eyes on either side, the top being much bigger than the bottom in size. The eyes that were actually set on his face were a much lighter shade of pink, the area around his slitted pupils just slightly darker. His wide fang filled mouth was pulled into a grimace, a forked tongue flicking out every thirty seconds in irritation as he continued to rub at the back of his head with large slender hands that extended into fuchsia colored clawed fingers. Around his neck was a rather huge black and yellow bow tie and atop his head was a matching top hat, but the hat had a mouth and eye of its own, the face seeming to correspond with the emotions of its wearer.

He shook his head to try and rid himself of the dull ache at the back of his skull and stared angrily at the alleyway he’d come flying out of only seconds before. “Why that arrogant, worthless, little piece of sh-!” He stopped when he noticed all heads turned to him, some of their expressions not looking on him kindly, and it clearly rubbed him the wrong way as he shouted, “What are you insufferable half-wits looking at!?”

“Well, if I had to guess,” a new voice called out tauntingly before a new figure stepped out of the alleyway, “I’d say they were looking at a piss poor example of a waste of space!”

The white skinned she-demon was a slender slip of a woman, her breast and hips large enough to give her a shapely figure, and the wide sharp-toothed smile she sported only spelled danger for those around her. She wore tattered and ripped clothing that revealed generous portions of the skin underneath; the off-the-shoulder magenta crop top over her chest put her bra straps on full display along with the tops of her breasts and the matching extremely short skirt around her hips doing nothing to cover her crotch was only saved by the black pants she wore underneath. On her arms were fingerless gloves that extended past her elbows, one colored black and the other white and grey. One foot was covered by a fuchsia boot with two white stripes across the top while her other was bare safe for the fuchsia toed white sock. Her shoulder and temple were dotted with three magenta freckles and the single eye in the center of her head had no pupil; in its place sat a large white x, making it hard to pinpoint exactly where she was looking. Her hair, ranging from hues of orange to pink, was slightly frayed and parted to the side with a thin stick of hair wrapped in a brown ribbon keeping a portion sectioned off from the rest.

The male, who Ottilie recognized from her long time in Hell as a snake demon, glared at the woman as he picked himself up off the ground. “You’d best watch yourself, missy! You’re on thin ice as it is and I’ve had just about enough of that mouth of yours!”

“Only just enough, huh?” the woman questioned in surprise before her smile returned. “I guess I’ll have to kick it up a notch, then!” She pulled out a small brightly colored ball and tossed it into the air before catching it again, the skull drawn on the front not a good sign for anyone.

“Well, kicking it up a notch might be an improvement in your case! Maybe then this fight would be a bit more evenly matched!” the snake demon sneered mockingly.

“And this coming from the guy who only a minute ago was sent flying and landed flat on his ass?” the woman snickered.

The snake demon glared again, looking around angrily as a few members of their audience laughed too, making him hiss in frustration. “All of you low life sinners had best get out of my territory before I make you regret ever stepping into it!” A pause hung in the air before the street roared with laughter, none of them intimidated after what they’d just seen; all but Ottilie, at least, who knew a threat when she saw one, but leaving now would only draw attention to herself and she received more than enough of that to begin with. “Fine then,” he smiled, clearly knowing something they didn’t, and pulled out a small whistle from inside his blazer. “Have it your way.” He brought it to his lips and blew into the small silver contraption.

It was strange when no sound came out of the whistle. It was strange when the snake demon placed it back inside his blazer and crossed his arms with a smug smile on his reptilian face. It was strange when the one eyed demoness looked around nervously despite nothing happening in that instant. What was even stranger, though, was when a flurry of battle cries could be heard coming from the adjacent streets followed by a stampede of small feet.

Heads turned in different directions as egg shaped demons came running out of the alleyways and side streets, many of them needlessly climbing over cars and trash cans even though they could have simply walked around the few that were there. They seemed almost never ending as they came pouring out like water from a faucet, most of them still crying out and shouting as if being called to battle, and their numerous footfalls were practically deafening despite how small their feet were. Once they eventually trickled off and reached the snake demon who appeared to have called them, they circled around him from all sides, creating a wall of protection around him, but their height didn’t seem to do much in his favor.

“Here we are,” one of the eggs looked up at the snake, a slight pause hanging in the air, “boss.”

“We got here pretty quick, didn’t we, Mr. Boss-Man!” another said, tapping on his tail repeatedly to gain his attention, nearly poking one of the eyes in the process.

The snake hissed at them, the skin around his head and neck flaring out in a threatening manner, making them all shut up and return their attention to the task at hand.

The one eyed demoness shook off her initial worry and her expression returned to one of cocky indifference. “You think those half-assed chicken shitted wannabes can scare me off? Why don’t you take your fetus rejects and go home to watch The Price is Right, old man?”

The snake demon looked confused. “The what is what? Ugh! Never mind! I’ve already staked my claim in this territory and I’ll not have some punky ruffian run me off of it… again!”

“You are a man of science, aren’t you? What’s that saying about doing something over and over again and expecting different results?” the one eyed demoness tilted her head mockingly.

“That’s not science, you imbecile! That’s the definition of insanity!” the snake demon said in irritation.

The demoness let out a single loud laugh and shouted, “Nerd!”

The snake demon looked around in irritation as people around him laughed along with her. “Ugh! You’ll all rue the day you laughed at Sir-!” he began as he reached into his blazer again only to cut himself off mid-sentence as he dug around deeper. Pulling his arm out, he patted himself down and looked around frantically. “Where is my ray gun!?” He looked around at the eggs surrounding him, their looks turning from determination to fear. “Which one of you has it?”

“It isn’t us,” another pause, “boss.”

“We would never think to take it from you,” the egg shook his head, his entire body moving with the motion.

“I think I saw Number Twenty-Six with it,” one raised his hand excitedly.

The snake glanced around and raised a brow. “Twenty-Six! Where are you?”

“Over here, boss,” another egg called out fearfully as he and two others came waddling as fast as they could from around a corner, a strange weapon about as big as he was held above his head. They appeared to be running away from something rather than actually toward the man who seemed to employ them.

That something came barreling out after them and smashed what appeared to be a blunt object over one of their heads, causing it to crack and cave in. The tall figure pulled the object, which was a baseball bat with nails hammered into one end, out the remains and the broken egg fell to the ground. The pavement and the bat were now covered in yellow yolk, but the work was not yet. The other egg not carrying the weapon turned and waved his hands in a stop motion, but was ignored as the bat swung to the side and sent him flying to the side, his body immediately exploding on impact and causing more yolk to coat the asphalt. The bat was aimed at the third egg, but it jumped out of the way in time and stepped into the small sea of his lookalikes, the gun in his hands the only way to tell him apart from the others.

Ottilie was so surprised to find that Angel Dust was the one wreaking havoc on the over sized eggs that she nearly called out his name, the shout catching in her throat once she realized she was about to call attention to herself, something she’d been trying to avoid only moments before. She was happy to see him, but now was not the time.

The egg demon made his way through the short crowd, the others around him parting to let him through only to step back into place once he passed. Once he was at the center, he held the gun-like weapon up as high as he could reach toward the snake. “Here it is, boss! I kept it safe for you, sir!” He seemed so proud of himself in that moment, but it was shattered when the object was snatched from his hands.

“Give me that before you hurt someone important… namely me!” the black scaled demon hissed. He flipped a few switches on the gun and it hummed to life, a red glass panel slowly glowing to a bright crimson red. He held it out in front of him and aimed it right at the one eyed demoness, her brow furrowing into a glare. “Now, where was I? Oh yes! You will all rue the day you laughed at the mighty Sir Pentious!”

“The only thing mighty about you is your age!” the demoness laughed before he pulled the trigger.

The center of the claw-like tips began to emit a crimson glow of their own as a sphere shaped ball appeared inside of it, the humming much louder now until it grew into a crescendo. The gun let off a strange noise as a beam of light flew out from the sphere and headed straight toward its target, the backlash from the force of it causing the weapon to fly back and hit Sir Pentious in the face.

Angel Dust came running up just seconds before the beam could hit the demoness and knocked her out of the way, the two falling to the ground in a heap. The beam instead hit the wall behind her and caused the bricks to immediately crumble into dust in a wide circle, a few heads inside the building poking out in surprise to see what had created the hole only to disappear back inside a few seconds later. Anyone wondering what a silly beam of light might have done were no longer questioning it and there was a brief moment of silence before demons were scrambling left and right, some trying to leave the street altogether and others ducking behind nearby objects big enough to hide them.

Ottilie had hidden herself behind a stack of wooden crates left to rot in a dead end alleyway, knowing that she had no chance of running in the heels she was wearing, and peaked out from behind to continue watching. With that gun around, she feared what would happen to Angel, knowing how reckless he could be in the face of danger; she wondered if a demon could even come back from being turned into dust or if she would have to face the sight of what was once his body being a permanent pile on the ground.

“Get them, you fools!” Pentious called out over the commotion, making his egg minions jump in surprise before they spurred into action. He watched in satisfaction as they formed into small groups and chased after their targets, most of them successful in tackling the ones running to the ground and beating into them with their tiny fists while the ones searching for the hiding demons looked around in confusion, some of them lifting up tiny rocks and looking under them as if they could hide under there; a good many of them passed by Ottilie, but none of them seemed to notice her. He and his hat rolled their eyes in irritation before he returned his attention to Angel and the woman he was helping up. “As for you two,” they looked at him and raised their brows, “I think I’ll just turn you both into the worthless bits of dust you are! What a fitting end to two wastes of space!” He aimed the gun again and pulled the trigger, but it only hummed for a second or two before dying out. He looked at the gun from a few different angles before beating it against his hand. “Darn thing always stalling! That’s the last time I use second rate wiring!”

Angel and his companion smiled at each other, the words they spoke to each other lost in the chaos, and took advantage of the situation. The one eyed woman plucked an egg off the sidewalk as he came running by and cracked him in half over her leg, causing his yolky innards to spill out as she pulled the two halves apart. She placed the skull painted ball she’d been holding up until that point inside the empty shells after igniting a strip of wick on the ball and placed them back together. The pieces somehow managed to stay stuck together as she tossed them high into the air. Angel held the nail laden bat behind his head, his eyes on the egg now falling toward him, and swung it as soon as his target fell into place.

Pentious looked up from tinkering with his gun in time to see the white, black, and yellow object flying toward his face. A grimace pulled at his features just before the shell crashed into his face and the explosive that had apparently been placed inside went off. A scarlet colored smoke blossomed out in a wide radius around him and left him hacking and coughing along with his hat once some of it cleared.

Angel and the woman exchanged a few more words and high fived each other before Angel ran off to chase after the egg demons while she stayed behind to face the now very angry snake demon.

Ottilie lost sight of Angel from her hiding spot, now somewhat relieved that he was out of the way of the deadly weapon in the hands of an apparent mad-man. Her eyes followed him as long as they could before he disappeared and she had to turn her attention to the rest of the chaos happening around her.

The small groups of egg demons had broken off and most of them were more or less on their own. More than a few of the remaining groups were bashing some handheld weapons, which appeared to be household objects that one normally wouldn’t carry around in hopes of attacking someone with it, against cars and other things on the street; Ottilie was left to wonder why they were doing this as a quick glance revealed no one was hiding underneath or around them and they could certainly see this much better with their small stature. The ones who had apparently gone rogue were still chasing around the demons trying to flee the scene, first attacking their legs to trip them up and then pinning them to the ground so they could beat into them only for the pattern to repeat once they escaped their hold.

One of the eggs had managed to discover a hiding place as he lifted the lid off a trash can that had turned over and found a cat demon hiding inside. The two jumped away from each other in surprise before the cat clambered out of the bin and tried to get away. The egg dashed after him, surprising fast for a creature of his size, and latched onto his leg once he caught up. The added weight caused the cat to try to kick him off before he was left unbalanced and fell to the ground. The egg leapt up and gripped onto the cats face, pulling rather hard on his fur and taking a few clumps out in the process. The cat hissed in a mixture of pain and rage as he clawed at the thing assaulting his face and tried to pull it off, this proving difficult without pulling out more of his fur than had already been. He eventually was able to get the egg off of his head and threw him as far as he could manage, turning and running as soon as he was away from it only to be ambushed by a larger group of them seconds later.

Ottilie watched as the egg soared through the air, calling out in a mixture of fear and excitement, and started to gravitate right towards her. She could have easily backed away and him splatter on the ground in front of her, but instead she held out her arms and caught him. The weight of him caused her to fall forward slightly, but she righted herself and held the over sized thing against her as he looked around dizzily. “Are you alright?” she asked as his eyes focused on her and looked up at her in surprise.

The sight that greeted the egg was Ottilie silhouetted by the sky above her, giving her the image of a crimson halo, a concerned look on her face. He looked up at her in awe and wonder, his hands around his face in a bit of fear, before he asked in an innocent manner, “Are you an angel?”

Ottilie blinked at him in astonishment. “No, I’m not.”

The egg gasped as he reached out toward her face, his hand hovering in the space between them. “Mama? Are you my Mama?”

Ottilies face twitched, like she wasn’t quite sure how to respond to such a question. Any sane person would have said no, but those almost innocent bright yellow eyes looking up at her in hope made her instead say, “Sure.”

The egg gasped again, his voice rising in elation. He threw his arms around her neck and nuzzled into it, his hard shell surprisingly soft against her skin. “Mama!” She could feel her cheeks heating up to the point her face felt like it was burning. “My nice Mama! My nice, sweet Mama!” She patted his back in an awkward but soothing manner, an action that felt familiar but she couldn’t quite place. His little hands gripped her tighter until he was practically holding on for dear life, repeating the action of patting her back as well.

It felt strange to be touched so willingly. Angel was the only one who had ever felt inclined to come within five feet of her without it being to step around her or not even realizing she was there in the first place. Though strange, it wasn’t entirely unwanted. Perhaps she was touch starved after so long even though the most Angel ever did was hold her hands or place his hand on her shoulder from time to time.

Just when she was getting used to the feeling, the egg in her arms stiffened, shuddered, and jumped from her lap. “Boss man is calling us back now! Bye-bye, Mama!” He waddled back the way he’d come, the rest of his look-alikes doing the same. She waved back at him even though his back was to her and he couldn’t possibly have seen it.

“Fine, keep this revolting travesty of territory while you can! I’ll be back for it!” Pentious was shouting at the demoness, the silver whistle clenched tightly in the fist he shook in her direction, his blazer tattered with fairly large holes and half his face covered in the scarlet smoke. He didn’t give her a chance to reply before he slithered off after his retreating minions and disappeared around a corner.

“Yeah, you better run, you burnt ass shit!” the woman called after him despite the fact he was already gone.

The other demons on the street didn’t take the chance of them coming back, leaving with their tails between their legs and a surprising amount of injuries to tend to. The only ones left on the street now were Angel, his female companion, and Ottilie, who was still hidden out of sight. If it had just been Angel by himself, she might have immediately run over to him, but she didn’t know or trust this woman who seemed to be rather proficient with bombs.

Angel walked back over to the one eyed demon as she brushed the dirt off of her clothes and he shook the yolk off his bat, a few of the nails either missing now or bent at a different angle than they had been. “You okay?”

The woman scoffed and flicked a lock of hair out of her face. “That pansy ass bitch wishes he could lay a hand on me!” He laughed boisterously along with her as he ran his own hand through his hair, picking a few egg shells out in the process. “What were you doing around here, anyway? Shouldn’t you be in therapy or some shit at your fancy, smancy hotel?”

“We went through all that this mornin’,” Angel rolled his eyes as she snickered at him. “Besides… I was lookin’ for somebody.”

“Oooooo,” she taunted, poking him in the side repeatedly. “Did your boyfriend run off on you?”

It was Angels turn to scoff now. “No one runs out on this gorgeous mug!” His head turned down as his expression shifted to a mixture of anger and sadness. “I’m lookin’ for a gal pal.”

“Huh,” the woman said in surprise, not used to seeing him pull such an expression. “Well… I hope you find her.”

Angel offered her a half smile. “Thanks, Cherri.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she playfully punched him on the arm. “I’d best be heading off. Turf to watch over and all that bullshit.”

“Break a leg out there, kid,” Angel returned the action.

The two said their goodbyes and headed off in opposite directions, Cherri heading away and Angel coming towards Ottilie. Her eyes widened and she felt her breath hitch in her throat. She hadn’t seen him since a month prior and here he was walking in her direction, that familiar sway in his hips following each stride of his long legs, his steps just as quick as she remembered. Each second brought him closer and closer until he was right in front of her hiding place and then walking past it in the next. She wondered why she hadn’t stepped out yet or at least called out to him, but then she felt that pang of fear blossom in her chest. She wasn’t even sure what she was supposed to say to him. She hadn’t exactly said goodbye to him or even told him she had been fired and had run off like a coward. Tears pricked at her eyes and she blinked them away, knowing now wasn’t the time to wallow in her emotions like she had been. Now was the time for action.

Angel was a good ways away from her when she stepped out from behind the wooden crates that had acted as her shield, paused for a second, and started after him. Her steps were slow at first before turning into a light sprint and then escalating into a full on run. She was surprised to find that she didn’t stumble or trip on the concrete as she raced after him, his form getting closer and closer until he was only a mere ten feet away.

Realizing there was a noise behind him that sounded like the familiar sound of heels, he turned just in time to see a blur of blue and purple before it came crashing into him. He stumbled back a few steps as slender arms wrapped around his waist and a head buried itself just beneath his chest. “Whoa! What the Hell?” He looked down and saw a familiar head of curly lavender colored hair, his eyes widening at the sight. “Ottilie?”

*****

Angel placed a hot cup of tea in front of Ottilie before taking his seat at the table, the coffee shop they’d gone to quiet but a bit chatter going on around them. She quietly thanked him and started placing cubes of sugar into the streaming drink, stirring the contents once they were soft enough to get her spoon through. He took a sip of his smoothie while she did that same with hers and he looked at her like she’d grown a third head. “I still don’t see how you do that.”

“Do what?” she asked, looking up from her cup.

“Drink that boiling hot shit before it even has a chance to cool,” he shook his head as he dipped his finger in the whipped cream that topped his drink and licked it off. “My mouth would be burning right now.”

“I like the heat,” she shrugged as she wrapped her hands around the bottom of the mug, cupping it as the warmth spread through her gloves into her skin. “It feels nice.”

“Whatever floats your root beer.” He took another drink from his cup, this one longer than the last, like he was trying to avoid what he wanted to say next. When he finally pulled the straw away from his lips, he set the cup back down on the table and leaned back casually in his chair, top left arm draped over the back and his other hands placed in his lap with his legs crossed. “So… you workin’ anywhere else?”

She knew this would come up eventually and what it would lean up to, but was still widely unprepared for it. “No. I’ve been looking, but there doesn’t seem to be anything available. At this rate, I won’t be able to keep my home.”

He looked at her worriedly. “How long will you be able to stay there?”

“The end of the month,” she replied somberly.

“Ottilie… that’s three days away,” he pointed out. It was odd to hear him call her by her name. He’d only ever called her names like ‘toots’, ‘dollface’, and other things.

“I know.”

He growled in frustration and, had it been anyone else, she would have thought it was directed at her. “You should have just come to me instead of making me hear it from some low life stage hand and run back to the dressing room only to find you gone! I would have fought like Hell to keep you on!”

She looked at him in surprise. “Really?”

“Of course! No one knows how to do my makeup or measurements like you do!” he said a little too loudly, turning a few heads. She looked less surprised now. “This new dame they got can’t even get a seam straight and whenever she’s doin’ me up, she keeps pokin’ me in the eye and smearin’ on shit like she’s bakin’ a cake! If I have to go into a shot one more time with a bloodshot eye, I’m gonna scream!”

“Oh, I see,” she said slowly, her fingers playing with the rim of her cup.

He noticed her actions and let out a deep sigh, his shoulders sagging with it. “Look… just… next time somethin’ like that happens… come to me, okay? You know I got your back, right?”

A small smile pulled at the corners of her lips as she nodded, “Right.”

“Two of a kind?” he held out a pinky.

“Birds of a feather,” she locked her pinky with his.

“Now and forever! Whee!” they said together in delight, throwing their hands in the air like a gleeful celebration.

“Hey, shut the Hell up!” someone called over to them.

“Up yours, ya schmuck!” Angel called back, turning around his chair so he could face the voice.

“Ah, go fuck yourself, drag show!” the voice demanded.

“Fuck me yourself, coward!” Angel shook his fist at them. Ottilie nearly choked on her tea as she went to take a sip, some of it dripping down her chin before she could reach for a napkin to wipe it off.

“I ain’t coming within a country mile of whatever you’ve got festering down there!” the voice laughed. Angel looked perturbed at that. “Why don’t you get a real job?”

“I got a real job for you right here!” Angel flipped him off and gestured to his crotch. The other man lost interest then and walked off. He clicked his tongue in annoyance and turned back around in his seat. “Tryin’ to me to get a job when I already-.” He paused and stopped mid sentence. An idea seemed to strike him and he smiled like a kid in a candy store. He reached across the table and grabbed her shoulders with one set of hands while the other kept him balanced on the flat surface. “Ottilie! I have a job for you!”

She looked up at him in confusion, her head tilting slightly in question. “You want me to give you a blowjob?”

“Wait, what? No!” he answered quickly. “Just come with me! I’ll take care of everything!”

[puppy-steve]

⭐️naru’s giant fic rec part 2⭐️

total fic count: 108

-ALL fics are in alphabetical order by title, not fandom -please tell me if the links are broken/linked to the wrong fic -smut is marked with **

please reblog to spread! and don’t forget to leave comments/kudos if you read these!

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

#dontbeavictor - 1.3k, single chapter author(s): spookyfoot fandom(s): Yuri!!! on Ice pairing(s): Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov

“Katsuki, you recently moved to Russia to train with your coach Victor Nikiforov,” Yuuri’s not sure why reporters need to tell him things that he already knows, but he’d rather not deal with Minako yelling at him over Skype so he just nods, and the reporter—Shana?—continues, “what do you like the most about training at Yubileyny?”

“Well the facilities are amazing…” Yuuri switches to autopilot and recites the list of training resources that Victor had galloped through after the Grand Prix Finals—when he mistakenly thought that Yuuri needed any incentive to move to Russia other than Victor himself.

He must answer the question well enough because she just nods along to some beat that Yuuri can’t hear. “What’s your least favorite thing about training in Russia?”

The answer bursts out of him before he has any time to consider a diplomatic alternative, “Victor’s driving.”

(Things escalate from there.)

2am - 915, single chapter author(s): lalazee fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): Kirishima Eijirou/Midoriya Izuku

"Can I kiss you?"

Prompt Fill Drabble!

Affection - 1.4k, single chapter author(s): MikeWritesThings fandom(s): Boku no Her oAcademia pairing(s): Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic

"Have you seen my husband?"

"Shouta, that is a skull. You are talking to a skull."

Or, Shouta's drunk, and it's kind of funny but also sweet.

A Good Landing - multi-chapter, ongoing author(s): ant5b fandom(s): Ducktales (2017) pairing(s): Darkwing Duck | Drake Mallard/Launchpad McQuack

Just who is Launchpad McQuack? In trying to find the answer, Dewey uncovers a mystery greater than he could've imagined.

A Guide to Getting Your Teacher a Date - 25.7k, single chapter author(s): yaanchan fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead & Shinsou Hitoshi

1-A decides to throw a holiday party and try to set their Aizawa up with Present Mic. Shinsou Hitoshi ends up orchestrating most of it while spending his first holiday with his new family and stumbling through the motions of new holiday traditions.

A New Normal - multi-chapter, complete author(s):ant5b fandom(s): Ducktales (2017) pairing(s): N/A

Growing up in the shadow of your hero isn't all it's cracked up to be.

A Rare Sliver of Happiness - 1.6k, single chapter author(s): MidStarlight fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): N/A

Toshinori's no stranger to nightmares, but seeing his successor dying on the ground is something he'll never get used to.

In which Toshinori goes into Izuku's room to check on him, and stays for much longer than he'd intended.

A Slice of Cake - 245, single chapter author(s): ToonManiac fandom(s): Ducktales (2017) pairing(s): Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera/Gyro Gearloose

Gyro Gearloose was many things. Some of which he knew, some of which he didn't.

A Subconscious Typo - 2.4k, single chapter author(s) - MidStarlight? fandom(s) - Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s) - N/A

"'To: Izuku, From: Dad'. I didn't know your dad sent a gift."

"I didn't either...?"

Toshinori stopped, breath catching in his throat. He recognized that candy cane wrapping paper.

An Arrow to a Bundle - 5.9k, single chapter author(s): PitViperofDoom fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto

In which Todoroki Enji tries to screw around with Shouto's life (again), but fails to account for the fact that his son's boyfriend has both backup and determination to spare.

Before the Sun Rises - 729, single chapter author(s): YukinoKoe fandom(s): Haikyuu!! pairing(s): Takeda Ittetsu/Ukai Keishin

Getting out of bed is hard enough, but Takeda makes it practically impossible.

Being A Hero - 1.6k, single chapter author(s): Minatos_Legacy fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): N/A

After a depressing day doing hero work Toshinori Yagi finds the answer to why he's a hero in a playground.

'He’s my new friend.'

believe in me, believe in you - 4.6k, single chapter author(s): gold_rush fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): N/A

Katsuki accidentally sees evidence of Todoroki's abuse and he is FURIOUS.

Board Meeting Baby - 2.6k, single chapter author(s): theopalauthority fandom(s): Ducktales (2017) pairing(s): Scrooge McDuck/Glittering Goldie, Quackmore Duck/Hortense McDuck

Scrooge and his executive board rarely got along, but there was a reason why they didn't have anything to say when he brought three, rambunctious children along.

The last time he did it didn't end with as much destruction.

Can I Get A Side Serving Of Sugar And Order It To-Go - 4.2k, single chapter author(s): cricketmilk fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): Kirishima Eijirou/Midoriya Izuku

After hearing that Midoriya had never been on a date before, Kirishima offers to take him on one himself.

After all, that's what bros are for.

Class 1-A? More like Class All-Gay - multi-chapter, ongoing author(s): accidentallydrawingablank fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): Midoriya Izuku/Shinsou Hitoshi/Kirishima Eijirou/Todoroki Shouto/Bakugou Katsuki, Asui Tsuyu/Uraraka Ochako, Hagakure Tooru/Ojiro Mashirao, Jirou Kyouka/Yaoyorozu Momo

Sanic added Yaomomo, broccoli, space jam, and 16 others to Class 1-A Group Chat

Sanic: Good afternoon fellow students! Yaoyorozu and I thought it would be a good idea to create a group chat for the class! This way it would be easier for us to communicate with each other on class related subjects!

all bout dat bASS: this was a bad decision

mitochondria: oH SHIT WADDUP

all bout dat bASS: yup

Cold Nights - multi-chapter, complete author(s): paraspark fandom(s): Ducktales (2017) pairing(s): N/A

When a certain six year old is grounded, he comes up with the only logical solution to his problem. He runs away. What lies in the darkness of night is not always what it seems.

Cool Down - multi-chapter, complete author(s): nefertemptation fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou

Bakugou's temper was getting worse since the time he walked out of class. The staff had cancelled his behavioral therapy sessions after Kamino, but he insisted on being sent back.

Kirishima went with him.

counting seconds through the night - 3k, single chapter author(s): cafecliche fandom(s): Yuri!!! on Ice pairing(s): Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov

In the weird, dizzy clarity of sleep deprivation, Yuuri gets it. Of course he warned Victor it was coming. But he’s not sure he ever told him what to do.

(Or: some days, it's all Yuuri can do to manage his own anxiety. He certainly doesn't expect Victor to do it for him.)

Couponing - 435, single chapter author(s): mandaree1 fandom(s): Ducktales (2017) pairing(s): N/A

Webby discovers what a 'normal' Saturday morning is like in the Duck family.

Cuddly As A Cactus - 10.5k, single chapter author(s): BustinBalls fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku

Some Christmas moments between the wonder duo over the years.

Cure for the Common Cold - 4.2k, single chapter author(s): QueenPersephoneofHades fandom(s): Ducktales (2017) pairing(s): N/A

Waking up with a splitting headache and a burning forehead is never a good sign.

Dadzawa is Attached - 2.6k, single chapter author(s): aquatarius fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): N/A

Aizawa was dedicated to making sure his entire class passed with flying colors. He just didn’t expect to get quite so attached.

Daily Lives of Pro Heroes - multi-chapter, ongoing author(s): Powerhh fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic

Star Spangled Man added Aizawa, Daddy DJ, 50 shades of gay, Bloody Hell, Mccree, nezu, Blocky Bloke, daft punk, big time rush, supermassive black hole, doggy style, Power Ranger and Recovery Girl to the chat.

Star Spangled Man: My dear colleagues! Aizawa: oh god no

Distance - 5.1k, single chapter author(s): toriboo fandom(s): Naruto pairing(s): Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto

Naruto and Sasuke are young and in love. When Jiraiya pulls Naruto away for sudden vacation, Sasuke reminisces on his relationship while he waits for his boyfriend to return.

Drive Myself Crazy - 1.2k, single chapter author(s): KatanaHatake fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): Amajiki Tamaki/Toogata Mirio

Tamaki can't sleep.

Duckgeons and Dragons - 854, single chapter author(s): doesaugustisgay fandom(s): Ducktales (2017) pairing(s): N/A

“For the last time, Louie, no one can seduce a door.” Huey’s voice came very clearly through the door. That stopped Scrooge in his tracks. He knew kids these days could be truly strange people, but what on Earth could they be talking about in there? He backed up, put his ear against the door, and kept listening.

Echos AU - series, complete author(s): Littestartopaz (TopazledHannah) fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s) N/A

As a child, Toshinori hadn't put much thought into what he would be when he grew up. One day a stranger in green appears in a flash of light, saying he's a hero. And maybe, Toshinori thinks, maybe he could be a hero too.

Eclipse - 1.7k, single chapter author(s): citrusyghost fandom(s): Naruto pairing(s): Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto

Naruto and Sasuke share a few intimate moments with one another.

Festival - 2.4k, single chapter author(s): Hittinmiss fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): Kirishima Eijirou/Midoriya Izuku

"Alright, class dismissed. Remember the festival tonight, don't miss it." Aizawa explained at the end of the classes for the day, really just wanting to go home and sleep rather than have to help supervise at the event.

On the other hand, the class were all super excited for the festival. UA was famous for many events, the sports festival was probably the largest example, but the school also hosted a local festival for it's students, faculty and heroes, but the public were welcome to come along as well.

---

Kirideku Week Day 6: Festival

fog lifting - 2k, single chapter author(s): PitViperOfDoom fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto

Izuku doesn't want to be here anymore. He doesn't regret the decisions that led to him ending up here, but he would like to leave now, please.

for the man who has everything - 2.6k, single chapter author(s): QueenPersephoneofHades fandom(s): Ducktales (2017) pairing(s): N/A

For all the gold he's ever had and all the fame he's ever won, Scrooge can't think of one thing he wants more on his birthday.

Get Well Soon - 9.3k, single chapter author(s): brickboat fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): NA

Super hearing can give you access to information that others aren't privy to.

That's not always a good thing.

happily ever after - 787, single chapter author(s): 100demons fandom(s): Naruto pairing(s): Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto

“There’s no such thing as a butt that’s too big,” Naruto yawned at her, wiping the drool from his mouth as he shifted over to give Sakura a little more room to fit. “All butts are beautiful because I say so. I’ll make it a Hokage Decree. I, Uzumaki Naruto, Hokage of Konoha, proclaim the beautiful bounty of bodacious butts a blessing unto this village.”

Healing a Healer - 11.9k, single chapter author(s): sophinisba fandim(s): Lord of the Rings pairing(s): Aragorn/Frodo Baggins

Frodo and Aragorn have made a life together in Minas Tirith after the quest, but an epidemic puts Frodo in danger.

home is where your heart is set in stone - 2.1k, single chapter author(s): dizzyondreams fandom(s): Haikyuu!! pairing(s): Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio

“Don’t fall asleep on me.” Kageyama muttered as Hinata curled into his side, awkward with the armrest between them. Hinata nuzzled his face into Kageyama’s neck and hummed quietly. “Stop.” He said, firmer. Hinata didn’t have to look to know that he was scowling.

how much do i love you? - 1.9k, single chapter author(s): writedeku fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku

“Get up, sleepyhead,” Izuku tries to roll out of bed to brush his teeth, but is suddenly stopped by the tightening of Katsuki’s arms. “Hey, you. We gotta go.”

Katsuki’s reply is a press of his face into his back and a kiss on the bare skin. It makes Izuku shiver. “No,” he pulls him back into the bed and wraps even his legs around him. “Stay.”

interlude - 1.3k, single chapter author(s): pageleaf fandom(s): Yuri!!! on Ice pairing(s): Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov

Viktor insists that he and Yakov both go to pick Yuuri up from the airport.

(Immediately post-Nationals, still pre-Worlds)

into the trees with empty hands - 2.3k, single chapter author(s): blackkat fandom(s): Naruto Pairing(s): N/A

Obito stares at the towering oak in front of him, not quite able to tear his eyes away from it. There's nothing outwardly strange about it except its size, which is vast even for a Fire Country tree. Thick boughs stretch out, not picture-perfect but twisting, curling, and the bark is thick and weathered, green with moss.

Nothing special, nothing beyond the ordinary, and yet something about it sings in Obito's blood, winding through his veins like golden streamers of sunlight in the middle of winter.

it never really ends - 1.9k, single chapter author(s): iwillstillopenthewindow fandom(s): Haikyuu!! pairing(s): Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio

Everyone has their off-days, and Hinata is no exception. For Kagehina Week, days 2 and 3.

just a little longer - 377, single chapter author(s): pandoras_thong fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku

A drabble of Izuku and Katsuki enjoying a prized few minutes of alone time before they start the day.

Just You - 2.8k, single chapter author(s): Headphone_Love fandom(s): Haikyuu!! pairing(s): Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio

Kageyama forgets Hinata's birthday and feels guilty like the awkward child he is.

---------- “Everyone else remembered,” “Kageyama…” “Birthdays are important,” “Kageyama,”

Kiss it better - 2.5k, single chapter author(s): CandyCrackpot fandom(s): D.Gray-man pairing(s): Kanda Yuu/Allen Walker

Kanda is embarrassed that a drunk old man stole his first kiss. Allen is all too willing to help him - and poke fun at him in the process.

late night cravings - 1.8k, single chapter author(s): TayTei fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku

Katsuki just wanted to sleep the night away, preferably with Deku there in his arms

But Deku just had to have stupid late night cravings

leave-taking - 1.4k, single chapter author(s): winchilsea fandom(s): Yuri!!! on Ice pairing(s): Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov

Moving to St. Petersburg was Yuuri's idea. Viktor wanted to stay in Hasetsu.

Liability - multi-chapter, ongoing author(s): yaanchan fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic

He remembers being scared and nervous at first. He remembers hitting Aizawa in the middle of a crowd. He remembers talking. He remembers feeling warm, feeling strangely happy. He remembers that small strip of paper Aizawa had given him, the one with his personal phone number written on it, and the promise he’d made to his teacher. And he remembers the promise his teacher had made to him.

He has no idea why he’s here.

Todoroki Shouto wakes up in a hospital with no memory of how he got there. He knows two things—he made a mistake somewhere along the way, and for some reason, Aizawa Shouta and Yamada Hizashi are here.

Lily of the Valley - 5.2k, single chapter author(s): baranduin fandom(s): Lord of the Rings - Tolkien pairing(s): Aragorn/Frodo Baggins

Frodo and Aragorn are both stubborn creatures, whether climbing the snowy slopes of Caradhras or facing off in the dark of Moria.

Little Things - 1.6k, single chapter author(s): WatchMeSoar13 fandom(s): Ducktales (2017) pairing(s): N/A

The nephews love their uncle, and Scrooge may or may not have forgotten what it was like, not being your own boss.

louie’s christmas list: reasonable, boring, scarves - 4.5k, single chapter author(s): Humanities_Handbag fandom(s): Ducktales (2017) pairing(s): N/A

louie's christmas list had started off something along the lines of;

1. a million dollars

2. a private island

3. a smaller mansion next to the big mansion

"no," said Scrooge. "absolutely not."

"it's a short list."

"it's ridiculous." he taps the paper. "ask for something reasonable."

and so Louie rewrites his list, glumly.

1. scarf

2. scarf

3. a reasonable and boring scarf

(he'd figured, at the end of the day, reasonable and boring people only liked scarves)

Loved from the Start - 3.2k, single chapter author(s): Unoutan fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku

A special breakfast in bed is made for a beloved, but stubborn pro-hero still roaming dreamland.

Makkachin the Boyfriend Thief - 594, single chapter author(s): arsehood fandom(s): Yuri!!! on Ice pairing(s): Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov

In which Yuuri likes Makkachin more than Victor and Victor doesn't know whether to be jealous (of his own dog) or find the whole ordeal endearing.

-

Alternative title is 'Give Victor Cuddles 2k16'

May 09 - Water - 1.1k, single chapter author(s): Wildwolf fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): Amajiki Tamaki/Toogata Mirio

For BNHA Shipping Week 2018. Tamaki tries to talk himself through an anxiety attack.

Migraine - 633, single chapter author(s): naru_writes fandom(s): Naruto pairing(s): Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto

Sasuke suffers from chronic migraines

Merry Christmas, Teme - 1.6k, single chapter author(s): simplegift96 fandom(s): Naruto pairing(s): Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto, Uchiha Itachi/Uchiha Shisui

Prompts: ballet, Christmas, protective Itachi, mistletoe, walk of shame (NaruSasu preferably).

naomasa shoots endeavor with an actual gun - 411, single chapter author(s): lenin_it_to_win_it fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): Tsukauichi Naomasa/Yagi Toshinori | All Might

pull the fucken trigger nao

Nobody but You - 1.7, single chapter

author(s): SlytherinsInSpace fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou

“I fucking love you, and I don’t know when it fucking happened or how it did, but It feels like I always have. When I think about the future- five years from now- ten years- fifty. You’re there. With me. Kicking ass and making casseroles and chasing around dumb kids that don’t know how to control their quirks but its fine because they’ll be our dumb kids.”

Only Family May Enter - 1.4k, single chapter author(s): Cybra fandom(s): Ducktales (2017) pairing(s): N/A

Ever since she first saw the double doors leading to the Archives, Webby has wanted to enter. However, she isn't family, and Quackfaster won't let her in unaccompanied.

Overthinking - 4.1k, single chapter author(s): SpectrumArcadia fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): Amijiki Tamaki/Toogata Mirio

Mirio would put a fist directly through the face of anyone who ever messed with Tamaki. It doesn't matter, bullies, the nosy press, Mirio is ready to direct or distract anyone who ever gives Tamaki a hard time.

But nobody has ever been harder on Tamaki than… Tamaki.

Outdated - 2.5k, single chapter author(s): mandaree1 fandom(s): Ducktales (2017) pairing(s): N/A

The boys know how to take care of themselves. Scrooge is still learning that.

perfect - 2,724, single chapter author(s): eggstasy fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): N/A

They bring Katsuki over with his little feet still stained a bit black with ink, fists clenched and thrusting out as he shouts his indignation. Mitsuki later blames it on the hormones but she bursts into tears and cradles him to her chest for as long as they let her.

Perfect Match - 620, single chapter author(s): Brittanica2015 fandom(s): Yuri!!! on Ice pairing(s): Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov

Yuuri and Victor just got out of surgery and don't remember each other.

"That's Victor, your husband.”

“What! Really?”

“Really.” Phichit nodded, capturing everything with his phone.

“Are you sure?”

“Definitely.”

Pierce my soul, match my heart - 2.5k, single chapter author(s): soulstring fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): Kirishima Eijirou/Midoriya Izuku

“H-hey,” Eijirou starts. “Did you know I have another piercing?”

“What? Really?”

Eijirou hums affirmatively. “I got one on my tongue.”

Izuku’s brain short-circuits. On his tongue? Eijirou has a piercing on his tongue? It shouldn’t be that alarming, but Izuku has heard things — myths perhaps — and right at that moment, with his crush’s palm veiling his eyes as they’re alone in Eijirou’s room, Izuku can’t help but wonder after that revelation. Is it true that kissing someone with a tongue ring feels good?

For Rare pair week

**Please Love Me! - 1.5k, single chapter author(s): Aki-gelicmon fandom(s): D.Gray-man pairing(s): Kanda Yuu/Allen Walker

Allen needs some form of distraction, and Kanda indulges the younger, but Allen doesn't want the elder to push himself to much.

What is this feeling they both feel?

Problem Child - 322, single chapter author(s): shifter_goddess fandom(s): Naruto pairing(s): Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto

Sometimes children inherit their parents' eyes, or hair. Sometimes, they inherit a little something extra...

Precious Jewel - 694, single chapter author(s): Petri808 fandom(s): Inuyasha pairing(s): Higurashi Kagome/Inuyasha

Inuyasha's first child... How will the hanyo handle watching his wife go through the pain of child birth?

Purple Son Acquired - 2k, single chapter author(s): yaoi_yaoieverywhere fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): N/A

Shinsou is far from oblivious even before he got fostered by 'the nice couple' who curled their fingers into his shoulders like possessive talons. He noticed how they ask around for the kid's quirks in the orphanage- only looking twice at powers that were strong or unusual. Shinsou's was both. He knows why they chose him.

But he's only little. His neighborhood isn't nice enough to have a hero on patrol every day. The police will want proof that he can't give. So when Eraserhead is tracing a path along the rooftops one night, he knows this might be his only chance.

[Shinsou finds Aizawa first, but it's Aizawa who keeps him.]

Purring Cat, Hidden Hamster - multi-chapter, complete author(s): alkjira fandom(s): The Hobbit, Lord of the Rings pairing(s): Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Ori/Kili, Bofur/Fili, Gimli/Legolas Greenleaf

This started out as the story about Hamster!Bilbo and Cat!Thorin meeting when they both ended up living with Ori.

Then there were cathamsters:

“I’m not going to go to a vet and somehow put myself in a situation where I have to explain that I think my male cat got my male hamster pregnant.”

Some time after that we were joined by Guinea pig!Gimli, Cockatiel!Legolas, and others.

Then there were guineatiels:

'Kíli stared down at the eggs. Eggs. EGGS. Tiny smooth things that shouldn’t really exist. Well, not these eggs anyway.'

Yeah.

As the tags suggest, this is full of crack. But if you like that sort of thing, (or just cute and fluffy animals) I think this is for you.

Resistance - 1.6k, single chapter author(s): tastewithouttalent fandom(s): Haikyuu!! pairing(s): Takeda Ittetsu/Ukai Keishin

"Ukai can’t figure out why Takeda is standing outside the store right now, where Ukai can see him but can’t hear him." Takeda is acting even weirder than usual and Ukai is restless because of it.

rêves - 3.5k, single chapter author(s): dollcewrites fandom(s): Boku no Heo Academia pairing(s): Kaminari Denki/Kirishima Eijirou

Kissing Denki is like kissing a battery. His lips quiver at first but his mouth is warm and so alive, Eijirou breathes it in. His fingers brush over the pulse in Denki’s neck and rest there, and suddenly his mouth tingles, and his hairs stand on end but he can’t break away. He needs more, pulls Denki in with an arm around his waist making their bodies press flush against each other, and the electric shock he receives travels like a bolt down through his core, right through his heart like Cupid’s arrow.

R/Ridiculous - 2.6k, single chapter author(s): phoenixwings fandom(s): yuri!!! on Ice pairing(s): Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov

I [32M] have to do laundry twice a week now because my husband [28M] keeps wearing my clothes, but I don’t want to ask him to stop because he looks so good in them. What should I do?

Yuuri glanced over the replies, most of which were some variation of “please stop posting these, you’re clogging up the feed”. Yuuri smirked as he wrote his own response.

Buy more clothes. -quadflipkatsudon

In which Yuuri leaving his laptop open somehow leads to his husband being ridiculous on Reddit.

Ripples - multi-chapter, complete author(s): Thatkindghost fandom(s): Ducktales (2017) pairing(s): N/A

Donald can sense magic.

Runnin’ Around My Head All Day - 5.1k, single chapter author(s): queenbeetle fandom(s): Haikyuu!! pairing(s): Takeda Ittetsu/Ukai Keishin

Its still a sore spot for the man. Deep down, he knew he never would have met Takeda if not for his persistence, but it was also painful to know that Takeda would never have given him the time of day if not for his surname. And honestly, Ukai thinks, why would he? Takeda is older, distinguished and educated. Keishin was…Well, Keishin was Keishin. At twenty six, he works in his families convenience store, picks beans, smokes cigarettes and is easily irritated. What Takeda saw in him is a mystery to the younger man, but he's grateful. Out of the many things in his life, Takeda was probably one of the better ones.

Saturday Moments - 495, single chapter author(s): apples4ryuk fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku

It happened once in a blue moon, then every few weeks. Eventually it became a weekly occurrence, and honestly? Izuku couldn’t be happier.

 Scratching Noses - 1.9k, single chapter author(s): NeoDiji fandom(s): Code Geass pairing(s): Kururugi Suzaku/Lelouch Lamperouge | Lelouch vi Britannia

"What are you suggesting we do about our little dilemma, Lelouch?" "Do you remember our old secret code?"

**Sensation - 14k, single chapter author(s): ThatsRealMagic fandom(s): Naruto pairing(s): Haruno Sakura/Uzumaki Naruto

Naruto couldn't believe his ears. 'Say that again Sakura-chan? I must have misheard you. It sounded like you said you wanted me to tickle you.'

Silver on Black - 4.2k, single chapter author(s): Markirya fandom(s): D.Gray-men pairing(s): Kanda Yuu/Allen Walker

... silver on black, like a full moon on a midnight sky, searching, probing, hoping to catch a glimpse of an answer to some of the questions they were yet unable to ask, drawing strength from the other to convey all the words they didn't dare utter, most of them still unknown even to themselves.

It was a lovely picture, really.

sincerely, yours - 1.3k, single chapter author(S): homosexualhitoka fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku

Katsuki reflects on the man he loves while the man himself scribbles himself to exhaustion.

Sleeping in - 574, single chapter author(s): Hetarecchi fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): Kirishima Eijirou/Midoriya Izuku/Bakugou Katsuki

Being a sucessful trio of Pros is exhausting, especially for Bakugou Katsuki. Lucky for him he has two loving boyfriends what will let him sleep in.

Sleeping Lotus - 1k, single chapter author(s): KisaragiRune fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku

It was the first time since their relationship became known that Bakugou and Midoriya joined movie night again.

It was also the first time the class caught them being openly affectionate with each other in a romantic way. Perhaps the reason why they tried not too was because it was too sweet for anyone to handle.

Or Bakugou just didn't want to fuel the bets going on behind their backs. It was probably that.

Smoke Bomb - 2.4k, single chapter author(s):Minion_Energon_101 fandom(S): Ducktales (2017) pairing(s): Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera/Gyro Gearloose

Fenton sets off the suit by being in love.

smooches - 843, single chapter author(s): homosexualhitoka fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku

Katsuki had learned a lot from being in a relationship with one Midoriya Izuku. He had gone through hardships and easier battles, each one making their ship sail much smoother.

These lessons ranged from anger management, the art of apologizing, how to deal with guilt, and the one that Katsuki keeps revisiting every single day….

Deku fucking loves kisses. All of them. No matter what.

Someday, Somehow, Eventually - 1.9k, single chapter author(s): BeyondTheClouds77 fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): N/A

It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. Izuku had been powerless to stop it, and it hurt. It hurt worse than he ever thought it would.

(Set After Chapter 161) (Dad Might)

Spiral - 2.6k, single chapter author(s): blackkat fandom(s): Naruto pairing(s): Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto

In which Naruto, Sakura, and Sasuke are dimension-hopping superheroes. Kind of. More or less.

**spring time - 1.4k, single chapter author(s): Jibbly fandom(s): Naruto pairing(s): Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto

There’s a person sitting crossed legged on his desk, Anbu uniform and mask firmly in place. “Hokage-sama.” He greets and Naruto feels a shudder travel all the way down his spine when he’s hit with that scent full force. He closes and locks the door, stepping forward towards the other.

“I thought you were on mission, Captain?” his voice drops low and he is in front of the Anbu, using his arms to lean forward and cage the other between them.

Stay today, Stay forever - 1k, single chapter author(s): soulstring fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): Kirishima Eijirou/Midoriya Izuku

Counting Izuku's freckles proves to be a hard feat for Kirishima Eijirou. There are too many distractors; pouty lips, lots of kisses, and after two years of dating, turning that task into a 24/7 job is something he's considered.

Surprises - multi-chapter, complete author(s): MikeWritesThings fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead\Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou

Moving into the dorms, the students get to witness a side of their teacher they didn’t even know had existed--a side much softer, and, dare they say, human, than any of them had ever expected to see.

(Or, 5 things class 1-A never expected from Aizawa, and 1 thing he never expected from them.)

swallowing fire - 9.1k, single chapter author(s): brumalbreeze fandom(s): Naruto pairing(s): Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto

A fire juggler, jester, and magician: a traveling caravan is visiting the town. They may seem to be acting, but the performers have bonds deeper and stronger than the mere cursory glance could find.

Tale-End of Toth-Ra - 509, single chapter author(s): As_Clear_As_Crystal fandom(s): Ducktales (2017) pairing(s): N/A

Louie Duck needs a hug.

Text Talk - multi-chapter, complete author(s): merlywhirls fandom(s): Harry Potter pairing(s): Sirius Black/Remus Lupin

Sirius is in boarding school, Remus is in hospital, and they don't know each other until Sirius texts the wrong number.

Thanks, Dad - 466, single chapter author(s): ANoGoodPigeon fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic

“Sensei, are you, crying?” Jirou asks, concerned. The rest of the class turns back to their teacher as he struggles to keep a straight face.

“I’m...n--not.”

Shinou presses his face into his desk and buries his head in his arms. “You are.”

(Or the time Shinsou calls Hizashi dad for the first time after being adopted and they're both handling it well)

The Evil Is Defeated - multi-chapter, ongoing author(s): Agitated_Procrastinator fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): Iida Tenya/Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto, Asui Tsuyu/Uraraka Ochako, Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou, Kaminari Denki/Sero Hanta, Jirou Kyouka/Yaoyorozu Momo, Shouji Mezou/Tokoyami Fumikage, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Kayama Nemuri | Midnight/Fukukado Emi | Ms. Joke, Hagakure Tooru/Ojiro Mashirao/Shinsou Hitoshi, Thirteen/Ishiyama Ken | Cementoss, Ectoplasm/Snipe

DeezWatts: HOlY S H I T !

BoomBoomPow: the deed is done

Kewwo: Can we talk about how much I love our new fake adopted dad?

Vulpix: What happened?

Rowlet: The evil is defeated.

((Another BNHA chat fic, that will later include some Teacher Shenanigans and will always include A Lot of Memes))

The King of my Heart - 871, single chapter author(s): theworldswecantsee fandom(a): Haikyuu!! pairing(S): Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio

"Kageyama wasn’t sure how he got across the room so quickly but the only thing running through his mind was I want to kiss him I want to kiss him I want to kiss him. He tilted Hinata’s head up and leaned down the rest of the way. He felt Hinata sigh as their lips met and Kageyama hoped his thanks was understood."

or, HInata doesn't know what to get Kageyama for his birthday so he composes and entire piano piece

The Secrets We Share to Those We Love - 1.7k, single chapter author(s): traickstarbrave fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto, Midoriya Inko/Yagi Tosinori | All Might

Todoroki just wanted to find out more about his boyfriend, to get to know him and understand him more. Not to mentioned, find out about why he and All Might were so close. However, Midoriya also finds out a few things about All Might he wasn't expecting along the way.

The Solution for Dysphoria - 6.2k, single chapter author(s): 21stCenturyHero fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): Kirishima Eijirou/Midoriya Izuku

Sometimes, the solution for our problems is simple.

Kirishima already struggled with self-hatred and body image issues on a daily basis, he definitely didn't need to break his ribs and be unable to bind for a couple weeks. Thankfully his classmates are there for him, including Midoriya Izuku.

Thirteen - 344, single chapter author(s): Agitated_Procrastinator fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): N/A

For the longest time, they had been alone.

time’s arrow neither stands still nor reverses - 1.6k, single chapter author(s): radiowrittenheart fandom(s): Ducktales (2017) pairing(s): N/A

Late night, when the kids are asleep and the mansion is quiet, Beakley and Scrooge enjoy some tea and talk about family.

‘Tis the season - 5.6k, single chapter author(s): CloversDreams fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto

Katsuki narrowed his eyes at the pair and asked, “Is there a reason that you’re both wearing the ugliest sweaters I’ve ever seen in my life?"

"They’re festive!" Izuku immediately chirped with a smile. He ran his fingers across the silly pattern on the sweater that he wore, which may or may not have been an 8-bit little All Might dancing around merrily.

“They’re hideous.” Katsuki said with a shake of his head. He looked over at the ridiculous snowflake pattern on the one that Shoto wore and rolled his eyes.

Shoto couldn’t help but chuckle softly as he offered the blond a folded sweater that he'd had behind his back and replied, "Yup, and we got you one too."

Troublemaker - 2.5k, single chapter author(s): nacklace fandom(s): D.Gray-man pairing(s): Kanda Yuu/Allen Walker

"Why don't you stay for dinner?"

(Mulan is in the back of his head, her grandmother yelling, "Why don't you stay forever?" off-screen in the dark recesses of his mind. Kanda contemplates suicide via well-polished sword.)

OR: The modern AU where Allen has a prosthetic arm, Kanda is a useless gay that can barely lift a couch without something going wrong, Lenalee is done with everyone's bullshit, and Lavi uses his bisexual devious ways to get Kanda to admit to his feelings.

Unorthodox - 1.7k, single chapter author(s): datboii fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku

Kacchan has a.. weird way of showing affection.

until you come back home - series, ongoing author(s): dandelion_weed fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku, Midoriya Inko/Yagi Toshinori | All Might

Saturday finds Katsuki in front of Izuku's apartment, holding a box of expensive snacks for afternoon tea in one hand and Izuku’s goddamn poster in another. In his backpack are his change of clothes and toothbrush for the sleepover. He’s ready for war.

---

Katsuki tries his hand at apologizing, being a better friend, and maneuvering both his life and growing feelings for Midoriya Izuku, and succeeds with extreme damage to his pride.

we’re all still kids and kids eventually run out of luck - 5,1k, single chapter author(s): eruriku fandom(s): Inuyasha pairing(s): Kikyou/Naraku, Miroku/Sango, Inuyasha/Kikyou, Higurashi Kagome/Koga, Ayame/Koga, Izayoi/Inu no Taishou, Higurashi Kagome/Inuyasha

Alternatively titled "We Chased A Jewel For A Couple Of Years And All We Got Was This Stupid Story". A compilation of Inuyasha drabbles based off of Fall Out Boy lyrics.

What the heck Natsu - 3k, single chapter author(s): orphan_account fandom(s): Haikyuu!! pairing(s): Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio

in which hinata needs to chill

When was Then? - 2.3k, single chapter author(s): hollandvice (hiasobi_writes) fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): Bakugou Katsuki/Midoriya Izuku

The moment he tries to move however, he becomes aware of a warm, heavy weight across his stomach, holding him in place. That realization slowly makes him aware that the warmth at his back isn't wholly normal either. He tries again to move away, but the weight around his waist tightens, holding him in place. In the same moment, there's a grumbling in his ear, sleep-dulled and strange, but still unmistakably Kacchan.

Original prompt: A quirk sends Izuku into the future where he's stuck with a 10 years older Katsuki, and Katsuki is left with the future Izuku. The future counterparts are in an established relationship.

Who Cares If Blood is Thicker Than Water - Water’s Tastier - 502, single chapter author(s): mandaree1 fandom(s): Ducktales (2017) pairing(s): N/A

Webby cut him off at the pass. "They didn't want me, Dewey. Case closed."

Yikes™ - multi-chapter, ongoing author(s): Powerhh fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou, Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto, Asui Tsuyu/Uraraka Ochako, Shouji Mezou/Tokoyami Fumikage, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Kaminari Denki/Sero Hanta, Jirou Kyouka/Yaoyorozu Momo, Hagakure Tooru/Ojir Mashirao

Iida added All Might Jr, Uravity, Zuko, knuckles, electabuzz, Alien Queen, tentacool, sugar spice, Prince Charming™, Snow White, duct tape dude, o shit waddup, Edgelord, bassic, Momo, karate kid, Invisible Girl and grape grabber to the chat

Iida: I thought it would be a good idea to keep track of the class in a group chat. Please only use this chat for school related matters or emergency situations. Uravity: good idea iida!!! Iida: Thank you, Uraraka. Alien Queen: a group chat??!! h e LL YEAH electabuzz: YOOOOOO knuckles: yooOOOOOO Iida: .. Iida: This is not school related matters.

you’re the trouble that i always find - 1.9k, single chapter author(s): naru_writes fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): Kirishima Eijirou/Midoriya Izuku

It wasn't originally planned as a date but it happened anyway

Your static lips leave me wanting more - 3.1k, single chapter author(s): BrightEyesEren fandom(s): Boku no Hero Academia pairing(s): Kirishima Eijirou/Midoriya Izuku

How long, how long will we try to make it together? It's too long, it's too long, we could die, just hanging here forever-

---

Izuku comes back from a hard day at work to Eijirou's comfort and understanding.

Yuuri’s Past Job(s) - multi-chapter, complete author(s): IrisButterfly fandom(s): Yuri!!! on Ice pairing(s): Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov

“…Yuuri, you worked at a host club before?”

“Um… w-well… yes?”

---

Or in which figure skating is an expensive sport and Yuuri had interesting jobs to fund for it.