#curt is also involved he's been teasing today too

[missholloween]

A story in two tweets:

[aizawaslovebot]

NOW PLAYING: the ex factor by iwaizumi hajime

—reader pronouns: he/him

—warnings: curse words ; had to be cut into two parts bec i want it that way ><

—summary: desperate times mean desperate measures, and y/n l/n is definitely the embodiment of desperate. eager to make his ex jealous for reasons undisclosed (read as: he's just petty), he asks his long-time best friend, iwaizumi hajime, to pretend as his boyfriend.

—note: the second part will be out in 3 days! VERY SORRY FOR THE VERY LONG WAIT UHU

TAGLIST: OPEN ; send an ask to be added even if you've already sent an ask back then!! because all that i could recall is @ohmygodronnie2020 and @beyond-the-mxxn

<- the sweetheart playlist | part i | part ii ->

Iwaizumi Hajime should’ve trusted his gut when it went crazy at the sight of you, Y/N L/N, whose eyes held a very mischievous glint that Iwa hated. He also should’ve turned you down immediately the moment you opened your mouth. Iwa definitely should’ve reprimanded you for roping him into this stupid plan.

Sadly, all he’s doing is crying over spilt milk.

He could remember it like it was yesterday. Years of dealing with Shittykawa meant that he knew when bullshit was about to happen. He thought going to California meant finally meeting someone who isn't an idiot on the daily. You were his contradiction. You were his idiot— basically like Shittykawa’s younger, much more mischievous brother.

Honestly, did Iwaizumi only attract idiots?

On the days you aren’t going on and on and on about why the government should be overthrown or why the both of you should buy a frog table for your shared dorm, he found you to be a nice guy. The people Iwa has met always had a hidden layer to them and you were one of them. Shittykawa was one too. Though Iwa wishes he didn’t introduce the both of you to each other— you become an unstoppable ball of everything annoying when you talk to each other.

But I digress. Iwa isn’t here to cry over why he only had chaos for best friends. Iwa is here because you, Y/N L/N, while you happened to be Iwa’s contradiction for all things he considered his norm, had asked him a very big favor.

“No,” Iwaizumi grunts, regretting even entertaining the male’s request. He could see your (h/c) hair bob as you groan out of frustration. Unbeknownst to the male, you were mulling over using what has to be Iwa’s biggest weakness: your very adorable puppy eyes.

“Iwa-chaaaan,” You sniff, putting on doe-eyes for Iwa to see, “I really want to make him jealous.”

Iwa sighs, subtly turning away so he didn’t have to see the tear-stained cheeks and the glossy eyes. The poor male was about to speak, pointing out that you had been influenced by Oikawa with the damn nickname, but he was cut off.

“He hurt me a lot, y’know?” You started to well up, for real this time, “I just wanted revenge…”

Iwa sighs again but he noticeably softens, opening his arms to let you cry while he hugs you. As you wept, you accepted his gesture and immediately let yourself be engulfed in your best friend’s arms. “You’ve yet to tell me why you two broke up, dumbass,” Iwa chided, though it was lighthearted.

“Zumi, is this your backhanded way of saying yes?” You asked, but your voice was muffled by his chest.

Iwa sighs for the nth time that day as he finally resigns to his fate, “Yes.”

That encounter was a week ago. You gave Iwaizumi enough time to prepare and regret his life choices. Honestly, he should’ve predicted that his idiot timed things perfectly so that your stupid plan would take place on the university-wide party the following week. Iwa could proudly say that most of his predictions were accurate and on point. Then again, his predictions were futile anyway— the best example could be his judgement on your then-boyfriend, Akuma Azamuku.

The brunette could clearly remember how he was able to discern more than enough red flags from just meeting the god forsaken guy. It was annoying how blind you could be when you’re heads over heels in love with the wrong people. Were you not really able to see how toxic this… Akuma guy is? Terrible name too, might he add. Iwaizumi would rather you date him than this devil spawn.

But he didn’t move a muscle. Iwaizumi didn’t move a muscle especially after that thought emerged from his head. What in Godzilla’s name was he thinking anyway?

Even if he could celebrate his on-point prediction on how much of an ass the spawn of Satan was, he couldn’t exactly bring himself to mock you with an angry ‘’I told you so!” Not when it meant that your damn ex-boyfriend cheated on you, covering it up by saying that he wasn’t actually gay. Not when it meant that you had been used. Not when it meant that you, his idiot, were hurt. His idiot was hurt.

“You’re being a martyr again, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa tutted through the phone, tactlessly commenting once the brunette finished relaying what was going on.

The male snorted, “What are you on, this time, Shittykawa?”

“Don’t turn this on me, you idiot.”

How the hell was Iwaizumi the idiot? No. He’s lived with idiots his entire life but he wasn’t one. If anything, both of his friends were the idiots. Not him.

“Selflessly complying with dear (N/N)’s outrageous request, regardless of how much it hurts you. Tsk, Iwaizumi Hajime. You’re one big idiot,” Oikawa sighed.

Iwaizumi scoffs at his friend’s claim, “Why the hell will helping him out hurt me? Shittykawa, did you leave your single brain cell in Miyagi?” The brunette growls, annoyed at the way Oikawa avoided giving him the straight answer.

“Iwa-chan,” Iwaizumi’s breath hitches as he hears the next words, “you’re in love with (N/N), aren’t you?”

Iwaizumi Hajime was, in fact, an idiot.

He was an idiot for realizing it much later than wanted; for allowing Shittykawa, of all people, to know this one fact before him; and for opening an avenue for bigger wounds because all he wanted was to help his best friend. He probably had to be the biggest idiot among the three— and that’s saying a lot… like more than a lot.

The soon-to-be trainer could hear his pro best friend sigh in response to his stunned silence. Iwa concludes that it was weird to be on the receiving end of a tired sigh but he doesn’t utter a word. Not even after Oikawa begins to speak again. “I can’t even bring myself to tease you tonight… or today… or whatever time it is there, Iwa-chan. What will you do now?”

Iwaizumi wasn’t the type to let himself get involved in petty things like this nor does he let himself go against judgement. That is, if you weren't in the question. The brunette was very sure that you were his contradiction— unknowingly forcing him to go against all the boundaries Iwa had set and done. You, also a trainer in the making, could easily be the death of Iwaizumi Hajime. But if it’s you, then he’d gladly embrace this death.

“I’m going.”

Those two words were a lot harder to say than the tired male liked to admit. So as he ends the dreadful phone call with Oikawa, he secretly hopes that next week will never come.

Even if Iwaizumi tried his hardest to deny, next week actually came. Not that it was a surprise. No one could stop the turning of time, the rotation of the Earth, nor the ticking of the clock. How the hell would he even stop next week from coming? Heck, Iwaizumi couldn’t even stop you from this stupid revenge quest that you had set.

Pretend to be his boyfriend, you said. It would be easy to do anyway, you said. We’ll be in and out in a jiffy, you said.

To hell with all the lies that you had promised. It was beyond Iwaizumi’s skills and strength to pretend to be someone you romantically loved when he actually wanted it to be true. The Aoba Johsai Iwaizumi would’ve dipped; Iwaizumi from last year would’ve never pushed through. But here he is, standing in front of the mirror in your shared dorm, preparing to do what he deemed an impossible feat.

You will always be Iwaizumi Hajime’s contradiction. And at this point, he isn’t sure whether it was a good or a bad thing. All Iwa knows is that this will soon end and like the way next week came, tomorrow will soon be today.

So all Iwaizumi could do is psych himself up to do impossible— the same way he had convinced himself he was an ace in volleyball or the same way he gave himself assurance with his college application— and push through with the plan.

I can do this. I’m Iwaizumi Hajime, former volleyball ace and soon, an athletic trainer. I’ve dealt with Shittykawa all my life. I was able to get into a college in California by myself. This should be easy. I can do this.

“Should I wear this, ‘zumi?” You call out from the bathroom, holding two slightly different tops for Iwa to see. The way the brunette spluttered at the sight of a half-naked you was embarrassing to say the least, but Iwaizumi was thankful that you had been too engrossed to even notice the reddening of his ears. ‘God damn it, Hajime. Half-naked Y/N isn’t new,’ he chastised himself mentally as he coughs. “Use the darker one,” was Iwaizumi’s curt reply.

I can do this.

You should not have lit up at his answer like that. The sight gave Iwaizumi more joy than he liked to admit. Nothing could ever top what you said next though.

I c-can do this...

“Oh! This one matches yours too! We look good together, huh?”

I cannot do this.

“Idiot,” Iwaizumi sighs to mask his flustered state, “just shut up and wear it already.” You only laugh in response, already used to Iwaizumi’s brash way of dealing with things. “Alright, puddin’. Just wait. You can’t rush art,” You reply sarcastically, using the other nickname that Iwa had begun to dread.

Iwa resorts to the comfort of his phone— or rather, he uses the phone to conceal the undying pink on his cheeks so you wouldn’t see. Maybe if he spared a minute before he did so, he would’ve seen that you were equally flustered; seemingly embarrassed to have said what you had in their conversation. But it is what it is, and Iwaizumi has to continue his emotional constipation without ever knowing that had ever happened.

You take Iwa’s hand in yours before you lead Iwa out of your dorm and to wherever the god forsaken party was. “What’s with the skinship?” Iwa asks, though the way he adjusts the grip so it would be comfortable didn’t go unnoticed. Maybe he had started to like the prospect of this whole fake dating fiasco because it let him taste of what could’ve been instead of just wondering how it felt.

“Nothing you’re not used to, puddin’. And uh… uh… this way we could look like an actual couple,” You stammer and avoid eye contact, your hand still in Iwa’s warmth though.

If Iwaizumi hadn’t been too distracted, too haunted by the reminder that this was just pretend, then he would’ve noticed that you had seemed unsure, seemed too engrossed in the feeling of your hands together that you weren’t able to make a great excuse. He once again resigns to what has been destined. “The Y/N L/N I know doesn’t do things half-assed,” Iwa claims as he drops their hands, “By that logic this should be okay right? So people would really think we’re together.”

‘It isn’t okay,’ You croak internally. Iwa decided to go against all things normal by doing this… this very compromising position that ensured the two of you looked like nothing else but a couple. Iwa decided, despite not knowing how much damage it would bring to your poor heart, to wrap an arm around your waist.

Unknown to the soon-to-be trainer, you were just as, if not more, smitten with him as Iwa was with you. You almost revealed the reason behind your bad break-up and even let Iwa see that he had this much of an effect on you. So this, to see Iwa be so into the role of his pretend boyfriend, both flustered and somehow hurt you.

You didn’t know why it hurt though.

“You okay there, dumbass? ” Iwa asks, getting too close to your face and being far too concerned than your heart could’ve handled.

Everything about this was confusing. Both of your minds were having their own storms as the both of you stumbled upon this new, confusing field in between friendship and romance. Closeness with Iwa wasn’t new to you at all. Him lightly calling you dumb wasn’t new at all. So why, in God’s name, did your ribcage feel like breaking apart from the very loud beating of your heart?

If Iwa had to ask himself the same question he asked you, he would’ve gotten a big ‘NO’ from himself. Initiating skinship to this extent made Iwa’s brain malfunction. Not only that, but the feeling of your waist was very much heavenly and mind-boggling. To put a cherry on top of the sundae called “Iwaizumi Hajime’s gay panicking,” the speechless and cute expression you had was too much for his heart.

Turns out that you would answer the same as Iwa, not that the brunette knew though.

This plan of yours started on the right course. Your dick of an ex did cheat on you and you wanted to make him regret ever even thinking of using you as a scapegoat from his problems. It was common sense to ask for the aid of your best friend, right? He, of all people, would know you and understand you best. So when did your fake dating extravaganza take its turn? At what point did this plan converge into something different?

In other words, did you still want to make your ex jealous? Or did you want to see how it would feel to date your best friend?

Time did not let you answer the many questions that formed in your pretty head. Before either of you knew it, you’ve arrived at the party.

You turn to look at Iwa, who was somehow already gazing at you with that intense fire in his eyes, and nod.

It’s showtime.

—reblogging helps a lot !! thank you for reading !!

[theodora3022]

Headcanons of Yandere! Inasa Yoarashi

Request: Reader is a female UA student with a strong wind quirk, Inasa Yoarashi met her during the provisional license exam. She is not particularly charming or beautiful, but she peaked Inasa’s interests. Normally, she is a friendly person. However when he tried to talk to her, she would give a curt reply, clearly wants nothing to do with him. What angers him more is: She is close to Shoto Todoroki! Little did Inasa knows she is avoiding him because she is insecure about her control over the winds, she fears that the winds might favour Inasa and she would be left quirkless. Head canons please. Today is the wind boy’s birthday and there’s just so little content of him...He is underrated.

Notes: Interesting suggestion! Today is indeed his birthday, I shall tend to your request at once! I been wanting to write about him for a while ngl, but I just cannot find an exact idea. Thank you for this amazing idea, anon. There’s not much information about his personality so I don’t worry this being OOC hehe.  Sorry if this turns out to be a bit Yandere… Man this took way longer then expected, please enjoy!

Update: Sequal No.1, Sequal.2(Coming soon)

Some of this is inspired by @reinawritesbnha​‘s post. Go give it a read! It’s one of the best I ever seen.

Warning: Violence(non-graphic), yandere, kidnapping, dub con, implied breeding kink (? Idk this is the first time I wrote something like this)

You are a strong pro-hero in training. You can command airflows to your will, any gas is under your disposal. It is only a matter of time before you become the big three of your year. Even Bakugou does not want to anger you. You are a powerful tempest towards your enemies. Overall, you are quite confident about your abilities. 

That is, before you met Inasa Yoarashi during the provisional license exam.

When you first saw him, you feel this sense of…familiarity. Even though you never met him before, you cannot shake this feeling of connection with Inasa.

Then you felt his cold glance towards your direction. But when his eyes met yours, his lips curl up into a big grin and bowed slightly.

“I am Inasa Yoarashi, also known as Gale Force, from Shiketsu High. And what is your name, beautiful miss from UA?” Man, he is loud.

Ah, so he is Gale force. You learned about him when picking out your hero name, he also has a wind quirk. Then it strikes you: what if the winds like him better? What if they just abandon me while he is around? Those thoughts make you feel helpless, the scenario of being quirkless terrifies you to no end.

The blush of being called “beautiful” is gone, instead you replace it with a stoic face: “Pleasure to meet you, Mr Yoarashi. I am (F/N) (L/N), also known as (hero name). Come on Shoto, they are almost starting, we should get going. Please excuse us.”

You walk away, smiling at Shoto. Leaving Inasa there, angry and confused.

He immediately regrets withdrawing his application from UA. If he had been in your school, it is him you would smile and befriend now, instead of that wicked Todoroki! The way you are calling his first name, so intimate, just sends anger through his brain.

So, you have a wind quirk too, huh? No wonder he feels this instant connection with you.

Froze there for a couple of seconds, until Nagamasa Mora called him. “What has gotten into you, Inasa? The exam is going to start soon.” Ashamed to admit his true feelings, Inasa would brush off the older man’s concern, and pretend nothing had happened.

Words cannot describe how he felt when he saw you in your hero costume. Like Inasa, you had chosen to put a thick jacket on. The skies can get quite cold, after all. His looks practical, with multiple tubes to help regulate the air currents. But your grey coat looks like an expensive piece from a boutique, the edges even has fur for decorations. Inasa think your look fits for a scroll in the snow, instead of a battlefield. It’s probaly for disguise to fool villians. You have not fully button up the coat yet, he can still glimpse the (favorite colour) spandex bodysuit underneath. If this has not been an exam, Inasa swears he would ask you to go to dinner with him, here and now.

Feeling his gaze fixated on you, you tense up nervously. Is he finding ways to take the winds away from me? Horrified, you decide to stay far away from him during the exam as possible.

Shoto noticed your nervous state, he asks you what is wrong. You shrug, stating it is just pre-exam stress.

Every time Inasa sees you and Shoto’s friendly interactions, his heart bleeds. But he decides to wait until after the exam to take any action. He also decides to impress you with his outstanding performance in the exam.

When you choose the furthest area from him, it left him feeling disappointed. So he chooses a tall building as his battleground, to better utilize his quirk and to watch you from afar.

Unlike his approach with winds, which focus on intensity and strength, your winds concentrate their efforts on speed. Stealth and fast, most people only catch your afterimage in the corner of their eyes.

Your strategy is creating vacuums around their heads. When your opponents are choking due to lack of oxygen, you press them against a solid surface to knock them out. Then you score with the tennis balls, done. Simple yet effective. It has only been five minutes into the exam, and you are already finished, with minimal efforts of two people unconscious.

Inasa saw all of this from the top of the building, of course. Like an assassin of the night, you move with such grace, and that speed of yours! Truly amazing. He had never thought of creating vacuums before. He guesses this is one of your ultimate moves.

He might just be curious about you before, but after seeing you fly around with that incredible swiftness, Inasa find himself becoming more smitten with you.

It is settled in his mind: he has to have you. Just imagine how what a power couple you two would be! The wind duo will be invincible. And your children would have the strongest wind quirk ever.

In the break room, you sigh with relief; you reached your goals: stay furthest away from Inasa as possible and passing with negligible efforts. Taking out your (favorite snack) from your backpack, you decide to reward yourself a little.

But then you find Inasa grinning at you across the room. Your good mood vanishes instantly.

Talking to Shoto to distract yourself from his burning stare, you felt his gaze moved away.

“That Yoarashi guy, I saw him in the entrance exam for recommended students. I was surprised that he went to Shiketsu.”

Phew. You were delighted to hear him say that. You would not want to deal with this situation on a daily basis.

Before you can feel that delight, however. Inasa invites himself into your conversation.

“Your speed is incredible! The way you master your winds is truly impressive. We should train together sometime. We can share our experiences on the winds!”

Being the nice person you are, you did not ignore him, trying to bring yourself to like him. You do want to share experience with a fellow wind user.

You did not notice how he left Shoto out of the conversation, completely. Not that he wants to socialize with Inasa, but still.

To Inasa, you remind him of the warm spring breeze. A ray of sunshine, easygoing and friendly, the complete opposite of Todoroki.

Of course, you are unaware of his ridiculous plans involving a future together and children. You just see him as a enthusiastic, loud boy.

Shoto can feel his obsession thoughts for you, however. After Inasa left to prepare for the second part, Shoto warned you subtlety. But you did not take it seriously, saying that is just how Inasa make friends. “He’s like that with everyone. No need to worry.”

The second exam you devoted yourself into rescuing. Shoto said he would deal with the villain. So you just focused on dealing with injured “civilians”. After gaining knowledge of their “injuries”, you lift the debris with winds and deliver them to the first-aid station.

It was after the exam you find out the two had fight while dealing with the villain.

They did not pass. You comforted Shoto about it, leaving Inasa upset. He failed the exam too; he needs your comforting words just as much as Todoroki!

You exchanged numbers with Inasa upon depart, promise him to train together soon. You fear of inferiority is gone; being this close to him, you can sense his power is not as strong as yours. Evidently it is him who should worry about falling out of the wind’s favour.  

Your friends, especially Mina, tease you about your little encounter with the other wind user. Calling him your “Shiketsu boyfriend”. You yell for them to stop, saying you only seen him as a friend.

Inasa’s friends are pretty much the same. Although he is a year younger, his sociable nature made him approachable. He shows off now he got your number, and they all laughed. “She can create vacuums and suffocate people; I would hate to get on (y/n)’s bad side.”

After the exam, he wrote out his plan of attack, staying up until 2am to do so. Shiketsu forbid its students to have any romantic relationships, so Inasa wasn’t planning on having one with you. Your relationship with him will remain platonic until you both graduate.

It involves an arranged marriage and an immense sum of dowry to bribe your parents. His father always taught him to go after what he wants with all his might. Inasa cannot wait until you graduate and move in with him. It is such a shame a powerful hero like you have to become a homemaker so soon. But he cannot have you swinging around the city in spandex, they are for his eyes only. He wants to keep you in the safety of his house, to train his brood of offspring. Yes, that is what your prestigious UA diploma for-for his children’s head start in life.

Stalking you would be difficult since you can sense the movement of air around you. They report any abnormalities to you at once. So he watched you from afar, how you shoot across the sky like a bullet to go to school every morning, how you relaxed in mid air during lunch break, or how you laugh with your friends outdoors.

Sometimes you would feel like someone is watching you, but the winds say all clear. So you just mark it as you are being too self-conscious and do not care.

You two would occasionally text and train together/help each other with homework on weekends, getting lunch together afterwards. him acting like nothing less then a gentleman. You start viewing him as a friend, despite what Shoto said before.

Inasa is glad that you did not seem to take interest in any boys during your high school time. If you end up inTodoroki’s arms, he does not know what he will do to Shoto.

A week after you graduate UA your parents told you they have received a marriage proposal. They have already accepted it, so there is no room for negotiation.

You are shocked to surprised finding your intended to be Inasa Yoarshi. You thought of him only as a training buddy prior to this.You ask to postpone the marriage until you become a full pro-hero but was shut down rather brutally. He said he will provide for you. There is no need for you to work when he can just take care of everything.

“Don’t worry, love. I’m going to take such great care of you! You can teach the children at home, so they can get a head start in hero life!”

Avoiding him would be pretty easy considering your speed, you can carry on with hero work as if nothing has happened, even moving to another city. However if this goes on for too long, Inasa will kidnap you.

Most likely to steal you away from your apartment at night, as he is as good at being stealthy as you. You live alone, it was a breeze. Some Chloroform and ropes would get the job done. 

You would wake up in a nicely furnished room one morning, quirk-cancelling collar locked on your neck. With chains long just enough to reach the bathroom.

Inasa hates seeing you upset, but it is all going to be better once you get used to your new employment: his sweet wife, the mother of his children.

Will consider letting you go outside for grocery shopping if you been good, with his company of course.

He would never raise a hand on you, no matter how much you screams and reisists him. Being so understanding, Inasa knows you need some time to come around. 

He loves nothing more then watching you do domestic chores, this man got issues. He expects you stay at home, cook dinner for him and take care of him. Which is a nightmare for you, since you despise housewife life.

You are so helpless without your winds to protect you, so you tried to rip this goddamn collar off everyday. But it was futile: only Inasa has the key.

You went to bed with him just to get some time outdoors, since your claustrophobia is acting up. You didn’t expect him to be so gentle and soft. But you regret it soon after because he become insatiable afterwards.

Then two months later you found yourself in the bathroom, staring at a positive pregnacy test. 

Once Inasa knows about your condition, he will loosen the restrictions. You can now use your quirk under his supervisions: it’s excerise, and the two of you both need it.

He would take you to comittee events, to go visit his friends, even letting you see your friends from time to time. You also got your phone back, but with a tracking app installed on it. 

Now all he has to do is wait a couple more months to meet his child.

[sunnyrosewritesstuff]

I love the idea of bagginshield bingo!! I'm going to have to ask for Blacksmith Thorin :D

I thought I was never going to get this finished in time! But here we go. I do apologize, the ending is a little rushed. This gives me some interesting possibilities towards getting the bingo now. ;) Thanks for the ask and please enjoy!

Title: Reasons Why Not to Live in the Shire

Summary: Thorin is a traveling blacksmith who grudgingly travels to the Shire for work every year, but there is only one reason why he would ever decide to stay.

Hobbits. A species slightly more tolerable than men, and infinitely easier to stomach than elves. Still hobbits, with their frivolous conversations and round bellies that speak of full meals and not an ounce of hardship, made Thorin grind his teeth. Especially when they spurned Thorin’s masterpieces in well crafted hunting knives, intricate hair beads, and jewelry so fine many couldn’t believe it was iron and not silver. No, the hobbits wanted pots and pans, door locks, sometimes a wind chime, but only if it was plain. They deemed the sound quality lost if he bears too much detail. He didn’t mind that some folks had simpler tastes, if they were at least consistent with it.

His metalwork would be passed in a heartbeat if it was “too embellished”. However, Bofur’s carving skills would be the talk of the market. His pipes were top sellers for their caravan every year. Even Dori’s tea sets and weaving would catch their eyes. Hobbits. If they didn’t pay as well as they did, Thorin would have their caravan pass the Shire every year.

“You’re late this year.”

Thorin passed the reins over to his oldest nephew, Fili, before hopping down from the cart to meet with the Thain. Thorin had worked well with his father and brother before him. Isumbras Took, on the other hand, was fair, but rather curt. Of course, Thorin credited that to his advanced age. Hobbits, much like the dwarven royalty, passed on the title of Thain through the males of their line with no abdication except in death. Yet, they tried to argue that the position wasn’t that of a king. Isumbras has only been Thain for four years and looked days away from passing the title onto his son, Fortinbras, which is why Thorin figured the gentlehobbit was accompanying him today. The business of training heirs and ruling ‘kingdoms’ were tasks he was thankful would never have to be his.

“You’ll have to excuse us. We had a death in the family this year.” Thorin explained somberly.

It had been a mining accident. Vili, Dis’ husband, was taking on some extra work while they were in Ered Luin, and a tunnel collapsed on him. She and the boys were devastated. Thorin had considered the man a brother and was hurt by the recent loss. Normally, they would have arrived in the Shire by summer’s end, but he couldn’t begrudge his family their time to mourn. The Thain nodded sympathetically.

“I understand the sentiment. My sister, Belladonna, passed away this spring as well. The white plague. It took her husband eight years prior as well. Left poor little Bilbo up on the Hill all by himself, but he’s a resourceful lad. Seems to be doing just fine, even if he is a little thinner.”

Thorin listened to the hobbit ramble about his family, nodding along appropriately. That was the other thing about hobbits. They were practically all related, and would spout stories about each other as if Thorin was expected to know exactly who they were talking about.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Thorin stated.

The Thain nodded his appreciation as he looked over Thorin’s papers of commerce, allowing their caravans the right to sell in the Hobbiton marketplace.

“I know your lot tries to clear out after about two weeks, but you ought to consider staying through the Harvest Festival. I’m sure a little extra coin will more than make up for your late start.” Isumbras encouraged.

“And Bilbo’s birthday.” Fortinbras pointed out.

“Yes! The lad is turning 44! A good grounded year.” Isumbras nodded eagerly.

Thorin nodded politely, feeling his attention begin to wane. 

“We will consider your offer. Thank you for your hospitality.” Thorin spoke the practiced words as he jumped back onto the wooden bench.

Isumbras and Fortinbras waved at them as they urged the ponies forward on the well traveled lane.

“Can we stay for the hobbits’ festival?” Kili asked eagerly from the back. “I’ve never been to one.”

“I’m sure it’s like every other festival we’ve been to.” Thorin grumbled.

“How can we know for sure if we don’t go?” Fili interjected with a smirk.

Thorin rolled his eyes at his nephews’ playful attitudes, pleased to see them smiling once more. Which is why he couldn’t outright deny them.

“I will consider it.” He sighed.

The two cheered and immediately began chatting about what could possibly happen at a hobbit festival that would be different from the dwarven and mannish festivals they had been to beforehand. They came up with eating competitions, sleeping contests, and jumping contests due to their large feet. Thorin merely shook his head as he worked on tuning them out.

The Company had already pulled into their usual spots and were hard at work setting up their displays as Thorin and the boys crested the hill. Their group was made up of five individual families, each with a different craft. However, after so many years on the road together, they were one big family at this point.

There was Bombur with his wife and children, and they would sell dwarvish pastries and tarts. Thorin was assured those weren’t the same thing. His brother, Bofur, and cousin, Bifur, were wood carvers. Bofur tended to focus on the practical end of furniture options and pipes while Bifur loved to create toys for the little ones. The next family was Dori and his brothers. Dori usually tended to keep Nori close by to keep the former thief out of trouble, but Ori worked with Balin selling books, quills, parchment, and inks. 

Gloin, with his brother, wife, and son, were the hunters in their group and sold off what they couldn’t eat. Oils from the fat that his wife somehow managed to scent with different kinds of flowers. Furs and leather also came from their stand, and Oin tended an apothecary. That left Thorin, Dwalin, Fili, and Kili to man the forge while Dis handled their sales. It saved Thorin from having to talk to the hobbits personally which tended to work out better for everyone involved. 

It took them the rest of the day to get settled in, and Thorin could see some of the hobbits passing by with their curious, yet suspicious stares. The gossip mill ran so fast here, he was certain they would have a line of customers by the next morning. There were three peak times in a hobbit market, and they all revolved around their meal times. The morning rush would happen between first and second breakfasts, the midday would be right before tea time as they wandered out of their smials to socialize, and the final one would happen right before supper.

Right on cue, as soon as the sun’s rays touched the earth, here came the hobbits to check out their wares. Even from the back of the forge, Thorin could hear their grumblings about how they were late this year, and how inconsiderate it was to keep them waiting. He knew he would have blown up at somebody by this point, and he could only thank Mahal for Dis’ patience to be able to handle the ridiculous and fussy creatures.

“Oh Thorin! I think you’ll want to handle our next customer.” Dis teased.

Thorin raised an eyebrow at her looking up from the bent pan he was trying to hammer back into shape. He didn’t talk to hobbits unless… He screwed up his face in exasperation even as he rushed towards the front of the stand. So maybe not all hobbits were bad. In fact, there had been a young lad and his mother who had always been very appreciative of Thorin’s crafting. 

When the dwarrows first started appearing in the Shire marketplace, the lad was barely of age. He was lean, something unusual for a hobbit, and had a boundless amount of mischievous energy. In fact, that was what endeared him to Fili and Kili. The three would sneak off to the pubs or down to the river as soon as the Company pulled into town. Over the years, Master Baggins tempered out, but his hazel eyes still screamed for adventure. In fact, with as much as the other hobbits tended to watch him with judging eyes and mockingly disappointed whispers, he figured the only reason the lad hadn’t run off into the wilderness yet was his mother.

Misses Baggins had probably the kindest heart of any being Thorin had ever met. She greeted them not only with respect, but as if they were old friends dropping by for a visit. A few years back, she had commissioned Thorin for a set of silver spoons, and had asked for his very best work. She wanted her dining set to be ‘the envy of Hobbiton’. It was the first time he had truly poured his heart into a project in the Shire, and it was well worth the effort when her face lit up at the sight of her spoons. He had etched flowing vines and leaves in the handle of each spoon with a little acorn sitting at the end.

She made it a point to brag on his spoons every time they came back. It got to the point where the rest of the Company teased him into bribing her for compliments. However, Misses Baggins was quick to point out how credit is only given where credit is due. There was not a hobbit that didn’t seem to at least respect Misses Baggins, and as for her son, he absolutely adored her.

As the golden haired hobbit picked his way through the market, Thorin couldn’t help but notice there was something vastly different about him from their last visit. He never greeted a single person, be they dwarf or hobbit, unless he was spoken to first. Even from this distance, Thorin could tell his reply was curt and impersonal, his smile polite but forced. Sympathetic, but approving, eyes from the masses followed Master Baggins as he slowly made his way to the forge. 

Thorin watched him, unsure of how to greet him. Much to his sister and nephews teasing, there had always been an attraction, at least from the young hobbit’s end. Of course Thorin was an old dwarf, and did his best to dissuade his affections. However, as the years went by, Thorin learned there was a difference between hobbits and dwarrows in terms of age. He watched as Master Baggins transcended young adulthood pushing into the maturity of middle age. Then one summer, two years ago, Thorin was watching Master Baggins sitting out on his front porch smoking his pipe in the dying like of the sunset, and it hit him. He had never seen anyone so beautiful in all his life.

It had been a sobering moment, and one he still didn’t know quite what to do with. Did the young hobbit still hold to his childhood crush or had that died in the wake of his maturity? Was it something Thorin should even pursue or would his mother frown upon such a relationship? Perhaps his greatest shame, how was he to court someone when he couldn’t remember their first name.

“Good morning, Master Baggins.” Thorin finally called out as soon as the hobbit was close enough.

“Hmm?” The hobbit questioned, clearly distracted before putting on that forced smile once more. “Good morning, Mister Thorin. We certainly missed you this summer. I hope everything is okay?”

Thorin knew he was staring at the hobbit’s abnormal pale complexion and listless expression, but once he brought up their tardiness, Thorin ducked his head.

“We lost Vili earlier this year.” Thorin confessed knowing the hobbit had been close with the boys’ father.

He hadn’t expected his entire demeanor to fall. His body slumped, and his eyes looked haunted and lifeless.

“I’m...so sorry. My condolences.” He whispered. “Please excuse me.”

Thorin watched as he picked his way back up the hill as if in a hurry. Fili and Kili poked their heads out in confusion.

“What’s wrong with Bilbo?” Kili questioned.

“I’m not sure, he...Bilbo?” Thorin spun around on them.

Fili glared at Kili who was looking sheepish. Thorin wanted to be irritated that they had known his first name the whole time and didn’t tell him, but he was more focused on the name itself. Where had he heard the name Bilbo recently? The Thain’s conversation came rushing back and dread seeped into his very soul. Thorin didn’t think as he hopped the counter rushing past the suspicious and bewildered hobbits to get to Bag End.

Thorin pounded on the bright green door, the hobbit’s long sought name falling easily from his lips. Bilbo’s eyebrows were furrowed in confusion when he finally answered the door, a surprise gasp on his lips upon seeing Thorin. The dwarf only took in his red cheeks and watery eyes before pulling him into a hug. Bilbo was limp in his grasp before folding his arms tightly around Thorin’s torso. His body shook like a leaf, and Thorin’s tunic slowly began to develop wet spots. He could care less. 

“It’s okay, Bilbo. I’m so sorry.” He soothed as the hobbit clinged to him like his life depended on it.

“You figured it out.” His shaky voice huffed. “Fili and Kili will be so disappointed. They were making bets on when you would ask after my first name.”

Thorin rolled his eyes over the top of Bilbo’s head before burying his nose deeper in the hobbit’s wild curls. He pressed a chaste kiss to the top of his head making sure Bilbo knew that he had people to care for him. He would take care of his infuriating nephews later. When Bilbo finally pulled away, Thorin wouldn’t say he looked better, but his eyes at least looked less lifeless.

“What can I do?” Thorin asked as he rubbed the tear stains on Bilbo’s cheeks with his thumbs.

The hobbit bit his lip, unable to look Thorin in the eye as his ears turned pink.

“I...No, I couldn’t…”

“Bilbo.” Thorin cut off his ramblings. “Anything.”

“Stay.” Bilbo whispered, ducking his head in shame at requesting such a thing.

Thorin sucked in a deep breath before releasing it.

“Done.”

“What?” Bilbo questioned in shock.

“I said done.” Thorin repeated with a small amount of amusement.

“But...your family?” Bilbo murmured.

“They know the way to Erebor well enough at this point, and they have each other to lean on. You clearly need me more here, so I will stay.”

For a moment, Bilbo looked like the young lad he had met all those years ago. Then his face broke out in a bright smile before launching himself back into Thorin’s arms. The dwarf laughed as he held tight to the hobbit. His hobbit who knew good food and hardships. He would suffer the Shire for the rest of his life for him. He knew? Perhaps, he could persuade Bilbo to make the journey with them next year. For now, Bilbo was all the reason he needed to stay.

[satan-chillin]

Hereafter (3/7)

Wei Wuxian is sent off of Cloud Recesses, bade by his fathers to “have fun and make friends” which, now that he thinks about it, sounds like a gross oversimplification of what the next six months away from home will entail.

If he happens to form unlikely connections, start a matchmaking, and gets unwittingly involved in the presently strained political state of the cultivation world, those are just par for the course.

Chasing after one of the famed Twin Jades of Lan, however, is an added bonus.

(Or, WWX was sent to Gusu by his fathers Wen Kexing & Zhou Zishu)

Part 2 of Spirited Away Series. Part 1 here.

Also available in Ao3. Hereafter Chapter 1, 2

❆❆❆

The scowl Jiang Wanyin was throwing at him was really uncalled for.

“Is that face supposed to be anger on my behalf or...”

Jiang Wanyin scoffed. “You wish. You’re obviously in the wrong here.”

Wei Wuxian was tempted to smack him if his back wasn’t aching (and itching) as hell. He rolled his eyes. “Throw me in the ditch, will you. At least Nie-xiong thinks—ow!”

“Don’t move much,” came Nie Huaisang’s warning from the other side before dabbing a wet cloth at his back. Wei Wuxian was pretty sure they were both wincing. “And, well, you were guilty for taking the sacred Lan forehead ribbon, Wei-xiong.”

“Fine,” Wei Wuxian grumbled. “In my defense, I didn’t know it’s that important. Are those ribbons made from special silk or something?”

“It has always been part of their tradition,” Jiang Wanyin said, crossing his arms unrepentantly. “Even if it doesn’t make sense to anyone else outside their sect, we respect that as their guests.”

Chastised, Wei Wuxian pouted but did not retort. He understood Jiang Wanyin’s point, and he could imagine a-die’s disapproval that he might have taken it a little too far. Wei Wuxian let the matter go. “Fine, that’s on me, but I didn’t start the fighting!”

He was certain that he had planned to get some air the previous evening to lull his bones to sleep. He’d been delighted, in fact, when Lan Zhan had pulled up short, though he seemed to have gotten it in his head that Wei Wuxian was due for a punishment and not even the fun kind. All that for sleeping late as if Lan Zhan hadn’t been doing the very same thing, and pointing it out broke a bit of that surface calm that had Wei Wuxian defending himself the next moment (or trying not to get hauled, really).

The ruckus and noise that followed resulted in… this.

He hadn’t been disciplined this bad since a-die had him running twenty laps around the manor. He was also sure that the only one suffering was him; Lan Zhan being a Lan was definitely used to this, though he would have to have been unruly himself to develop a thick skin to withstand the strikes.

Wei Wuxian was hard-pressed not to think too much of a porcelain back lined with red—er, not in present company, at least.

“What’s that expression for?” Jiang Wanyin asked haltingly.

“Heh. Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“That better not be another trouble in your mind. Look, carrying you back once is enough. I’m not looking forward to doing that again.”

“Speak for yourself. Nie-xiong can carry me.”

“Ah.” NIe Huaisang chuckled nervously. “I’m not exactly as strong as Wanyin to do it often, Wei-xiong.”

“See?”

“Pft. You’re just jealous you’re not the one being tended right now.”

“What’s that supposed to—A-jie!”

Wei Wuxian found enough energy to turn around towards the ajar door and found a young woman entering with a tray of food that smelled delectable. Jiang Wanyin closed the door behind her and helped her down to where he previously sat.

“Good morning, Young Master Wei. I apologize for barging in like this, but I heard what happened from A-Cheng and thought to bring some soup over,” she said kindly. “It’s a shame that we haven’t been introduced before. My name is Jiang Yanli.”

Wei Wuxian hid a grimace as he sat up and pulled his thin robe over. It wouldn’t do to appear indecent in front of a young lady. He bowed as low as he could. “It’s an honor to meet Maiden Jiang, even if this one is unfit for the company of a maiden.”

He knew he liked Maiden Jiang when she returned his smile brightly, waving off his apology before serving him a bowl of what she called lotus soup. “I’m guessing the three of you haven’t had the morning meal,” she addressed the three of them. “I made enough for us.”

Jiang Wanyin wasn’t exaggerating when he had called his elder sister good-natured, and it was clear why he loved and admired her greatly. She reminded Wei Wuxian of shijie Xiaolian, in fact, with both their caring and motherly nature. She closely treated Nie Huaisang like another younger brother, and based on how concerned she was over Wei Wuxian’s back and empathetic of his situation, she was probably considering him as a new addition.

Wei Wuxian wouldn’t mind, to be honest, but Jiang Wanyin probably would.

“Don’t spoil him much, A-jie,” he reminded her once she began peeling lotus seeds for Wei Wuxian. “He can move his hands.”

“I don’t mind,” Jiang Yanli told him gently. “A friend of A-Cheng is my friend too. Besides, this is the first time I’ve met the person you speak highly of.”

Wei Wuxian snickered at the sudden red on Jiang Wanyin’s cheeks. “Aiya, Jiang-xiong, you never told me,” he couldn’t resist teasing. He inclined his head. “You know, I never quite figured out why you seemed opposed to me spending time with Nie-xiong before, but I think I know now why.”

“If the next thing that will come out of your mouth is another nonsense you can forget it,” Jiang Wanyin replied shortly before offering to clean up and marching out with the dirty dishes. Nie Huaisang excused himself, muttering about fetching another basin of warm water but following Jiang Wanyin’s direction.

Maiden Jiang smiled impishly after them, eyes alight with something like a secret only she was privy of. Once left alone with her, Wei Wuxian stood, not without difficulty, and set about making a pot of tea for her. She looked startled and was about to protest about not needing to be served but thought better of it once she considered their new distance where she now sat across from him. If it was even possible, her ever-present smile softened. She thanked him, both for the cup of tea and his thoughtfulness.

“A-Cheng can be prickly to most,” she began conversationally, “but he’s a good person who finds it hard to express himself. Before, he only had A-Sang who was determined not to be shaken off. I’m glad he has you now too.”

Wei Wuxian grinned toothily then sighed, feigning disappointment. “To be fair, Maiden Jiang, when he told me about you, I thought he wasn’t actually picturing his sister,” he mock-whispered. “Now, though, I understand that you racked up all the patience and left him a sour grape.”

Her clear tinkling laugh was infectious. “I suppose that makes him more suitable for our colors,” she jested. “But you haven’t seen A-Cheng with his dogs, Young Master Wei. He loves them dearly, and they’re his first friends. They must be missing him as much as he misses them.”

“Ah, dogs,” Wei Wuxian repeated weakly. They must be as nice as Maiden Jiang, and Jiang Wanyin, thought of them, but he couldn’t help but repress a shudder. “Are they… cute?” he asked lamely.

“They are. Energetic and very cuddly too.” Maiden Jiang—bless her soul—did not point out the abrupt awkwardness. “I love them as well, but I find that I’m partial to cats. A-sang once brought one with him from Qinghe when he visited us.”

Cats were alright, he thought. There had been a female tabby that his shixiong liked to feed and had shown Wei Wuxian her kittens when he was a child. It had been one of his early memories in the manor, and he told as much to Maiden Jiang who happily listened about his childhood at Four Seasons. It was likely that she knew as much as her brother, though she made no mention of it, telling him instead about her days as a little girl in Lotus Pier and how she had taken up culinary, learning from the head of the kitchen who had been like a grandmother to her.

“Young Master Wei,” she said, “I’d prefer it if you call me Yanli.”

“Only if you call me A-Xian.”

“Very well… A-Xian.”

❆❆❆

Although he was a little better, Wei Wuxian was embarrassingly waddling come afternoon. To make matters worse, he had the misfortune to come across some sniggering peers who followed a haughty-looking young master who barely spared Wei Wuxian a glance before walking the path without pause.

Unexpectedly, though, Jiang Wanyin took a minute to properly greet the young master who merely acknowledged it with a curt nod. Rude.

Wei Wuxian raised an eyebrow. Jiang Wanyin simply muttered, “Prancing peacock.”

“You know him?”

“Who doesn’t?” He rolled his eyes. “Right. That’s Jin Zixuan.”

“I gathered as much,” came the dry reply. Wei Wuxian had made it his mission to memorize as many names as he was able, and he had started with the names of the heirs of the major sects. “I never thought you knew him personally since I’ve never seen him with you or Nie-xiong. I guess you sect heirs have an inner circle.”

“Would’ve been better if we only knew each other in passing,” Jiang Wanyin huffed. Annoyed, he supplied, “He’s A-jie’s betrothed.”

Wei Wuxian blinked at the direction where Jin Zixuan and his lackeys disappeared to. “Huh.”

He had only met Yanli earlier, but already he felt a protectiveness toward her; such a lovely and kind person better be treasured by her future spouse.

Wei Wuxian’s eyes darted once he caught sight of white from his periphery. He noticed Zewu-jun approaching, smiling. “Young Master Wei, Young Master Jiang.”

He could only return the greeting in embarrassment. He hoped that smile wasn’t a dig at his state; after all, he did commit what must have been comparable to a crime to his younger brother.

Gods, that sounded dirty.

Lan Xichen, blissfully unaware of what was going on inside Wei Wuxian’s head, said, ”I honestly did not expect to see you moving about today, but I’m glad to see you well enough to walk.” As if sensing Wei Wuxian wanting to say that it hurt all over, he added, sounding apologetic. “Uncle is strict, but his punishment is worse than necessary. It can take you a week and a half to completely heal.”

Wei Wuxian internally winced. While he wasn’t overly enthusiastic with the lectures—oh, he loved learning, and, truly, that was the only thing motivating him to wake up early and tolerate Lan Qiren’s droning voice—he really didn’t need the dent on his studies.

“I’ll let you know of a place that will help you heal faster so you won’t fall behind in your schooling,” Lan Xichen said. “Nonetheless, I’m pleased to see that Young Master Wei is being taken care of by his friends.”

“It’s kind of Nie-xiong to tend my wounds,” Wei Wuxian said happily. “Young Master Jiang might be getting a little fed up, but I admire his patience, and because of him I get to know Maiden Jiang and her cooking.” He nodded sagely, completely aware of Jiang Wanyin’s growing embarrassment. “I also believe that he’s waiting for me to heal to beat my ass for getting spoiled by his sister and Nie-xiong.”

It was funny how Jiang Wanyin struggled between wanting to throttle him and smack his back and debating whether it was worth it to do either or both in front of the esteemed Zewu-jun.

❆❆❆

The place Lan Xichen mentioned was a stream by the backhills, easy to miss with the light mist that surrounded it. A cold soak could be what he needed.

Wei Wuxian ambled by the bank, untying his belt but stopped when he caught movement in the water. He squinted.

It was Lan Zhan. Naked from waist up.

“What are you doing here?”

He was also murderously glaring at him.

“Zewu-jun told me about this place.” Wei Wuxian cleared his throat, his eyes admittedly lingering at the expanse of skin that seemed to go on indefinitely… and where angry red marks marred his back. As someone who was inflicted with the same punishment, Wei Wuxian knew it was as bad as it felt.

He reached for his sleeve, taking out a small pouch. “Believe me when I say I didn’t know—” He fell silent. He wasn’t planning to return it this soon; later, maybe, after his bath. “I shouldn’t have snatched your ribbon. I’m sorry.”

A flurry of pale cloth completely hid Lan Zhan’s torso from his sight, though he still refused to turn in Wei Wuxian’s direction. He sighed, removing the fan from his waist and propping his sword by a rock. Hesitantly, Wei Wuxian dipped his toe on the water, shivering at the frigid contact.

His soaked robes weighed him down as he trudged further into the cold water, slowing at the progressively slippery smooth stones under his bare feet. He bit his lip, grateful that Lan Zhan’s back was on him or else he’d see how utterly ungraceful he was just to reach him.

“Here,” he said awkwardly, extending the pouch. Lan Zhan determinedly ignored him, though there was an unmistakable pinking at the tip of his ears. Not knowing what to make of it, Wei Wuxian clicked his tongue and clarified, “I have your ribbon inside.” He frowned suddenly, feeling an odd shift in the water. “Wait. Lan Zhan, do you feel that?”

As soon as the words left him, a strong current took him by his ankles, dragging him underwater, and Wei Wuxian knew no more.

[dessarious]

Broken Harmony Pt4

Master List 1   Master List 2    Prologue   Beginning   Previous   Next

The most recent text just said, “I’m coming to the hospital. Stay where you are.” Crap. He’s been so focused on the bond and Marinette that it hadn’t even occurred to him how his father would react to his leaving to hotel without a word. He hit the call button a waited.

“What happened?” His voice was curt, tense. Anyone else would think he was mad rather than worried.

“Nothing happened to me.” Damian paused trying to decide how to continue. He wasn’t sure how much he should share without talking with Marinette. He may have a direct link to her emotions but he had no clue how private she was with strangers.

“Then why are you at the hospital?”

“My soulmate was injured, I’m here to take care of her.” There was dead silence on the other end of the line. 

“Since when do you have a soulmate?” Damian blinked at the question, but when he stopped to think about it he couldn’t recall mentioning it to his family.

“Since always.”

“And this is the first I’m hearing of it why?”

Damian looked at the door to the room and the obviously thin walls debating the likelihood of being overheard. “Mother and Grandfather didn’t consider it an important subject. I got into the habit of not mentioning it.” He swore he could hear Bruce’s exasperated expression.

“Wait, is that why you’ve been so moody and developed a sudden interest in the business?”

“I have not been moody.” 

“But it is the reason for the sudden interest in our international business?” 

“Yes.” 

“I wish you would have just told me what was going on. If you wanted to find your soulmate I could’ve just sent Dick or Jason with you and you could have gone a more direct route in looking for her.”

Damian scoffed. The last thing he wanted was any of his brothers traveling with him constantly making comments about what kind of person his soulmate was and otherwise making fun of him. No thanks. But… he would have found her sooner. If that had happened today wouldn’t have. Marinette’s song turned softer and reassuring. She was still more worried about him than herself.

“What happened? Is she alright?” Damian realized he hadn’t responded and was still not certain how much he should share.

‘“She will be. I need to ask her what she is comfortable with me sharing with you before I give you any details.” 

“Understandable. Can you tell me what made it so urgent that you find her?” 

Damian hesitated. “Her song changed. Drastically.” If he was being honest with himself he’d always figured she’d be better off without him.  What use would someone who radiated joy and life have for his death and chaos? Judging from this morning though it seemed that might be exactly what she needed.

“I see. Well I’m here so I’ll see you both in the waiting room.” He hung up before Damian could reply. Would Marinette even want to meet his father in her current condition? He would figure something out if she didn’t and would just hope it wouldn’t require separating from her. He checked the time. Twenty minutes since she’d gone for x-rays. 

It was another five before the overly cheery nurse wheeled her back in. He was up immediately when he noticed a tightness to her expression. The nurse left quickly just saying that the doctor would be back when they had gone over the x-rays.

“What’s wrong?” Seeing her he realized how much she was able to hide, even from him. The pain coming through the bond was much less than it had been even though nothing had been done. She was trying to flood it with positive emotions and it muted the minor chords.

“It’s okay. Just some of the positions I needed to be in to get proper x-rays didn’t feel great. Are you okay? You seemed… tense.” 

‘Fine.” He let out a sigh. “My father has been trying to get ahold of me all morning and apparently decided to track my phone so he’s in the waiting room.” At her shocked look he barreled forward. “I didn’t give him any details because I wasn’t sure what you would want him to know and if you don’t want to meet him right now I can find some way to get you out without seeing him.” He was all ready to go into various plans to leave undetected when her voice stopped him.

“No, it’s okay. I don’t want you to get into more trouble for helping me than you already are.” And there was the guilt. That he definitely recognized. Even before her song had changed so much guilt was a constant. After spending even this little bit of time with her he could tell she blamed herself for a lot of things. Most of which she probably shouldn’t.

“I’m not in any trouble.” Well, he didn’t think so anyway. “Besides I don’t want you to feel you have to meet him now. A lot of people find him… intimidating.” Which was true, but he didn't really want his father to embarrass him in front of her this soon.

“And how do you expect to talk to my parents and your father about pulling me out of school if I don’t meet him?” Oh god he had said that hadn’t he. Her song had a wariness to it now. 

“I’m sorry if I seemed overbearing. I realize that you have the right to make any and all decisions about your life and this situation I just… when I saw what they did to you I just reacted. I’ve spent the last six months worrying about what happened to you and it all just came out.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “I’m used to being able to fix things so I just defaulted to damage control. I’ll abide by whatever you decide, but if you stay I’m going to become your shadow. I won’t let them hurt you again one way or another.”

He stood stiffly as she studied him after his speech. The song was suspiciously devoid of a reaction and it worried him. He should be getting something, anything. But instead she just stared at him before a small smile formed.

“Your father’s just going to be okay with you moving to Paris to keep an eye on me then?” He felt his face heat at her teasing.

“Honestly? Yes. If that’s what is necessary for you to be safe he’d likely encourage it.” She seemed surprised by his frank answer. Whether is was because his awkward social skills wouldn’t let him tease her back or because his father would actually let him move to another country he didn’t know.

“So what is an Akuma?” Definitely time to change the subject and she did say she would explain. 

“Have you heard of Paris’ villains or heroes?” She seemed hesitant and there was guilt in her song again. Then his brain caught up to her words. Wait, what?

“I haven’t. Are they new?” Had to be. There’s no way the League wouldn’t have heard about it otherwise.

“No. They’ve been around for about two years now.” He tried to hide his surprise but obviously wasn’t successful as her curiosity picked up. He’d have to ask her how she managed to mask some of her feelings. 

“Okay, and they have something to do with these Akumas?” As much as he wanted to freak out or find his father and figure out how they’d missed this for two years, he needed to stay on point. 

“The main villain, Hawkmoth, he sends out these Akumas, black butterflies, to possess people who are feeling strong negative emotions. He offers to help them in exchange for them getting what he wants and then turns them into supervillains.” She was concentrating hard on her words. He had a feeling she was trying to use terms he would understand and was having an internal debate over whether he should be grateful or annoyed.

“The villain uses butterflies? That seems a little… strange.” That was not the word he wanted to use but he didn’t want to offend her. His Angel just shrugs. 

“I guess it probably is but that’s just how his powers work. Everyone in Paris is constantly trying to regulate their emotions so they don’t end up being a terrorist’s pawn. Well mostly everyone.” The last sentence had a bitterness to it but before he could question her the doctor came back.

“Well the good news is that your ribs are just bruised.They’re going to be tender for awhile but otherwise they’re in good shape. Your arms on the other hand… that’s what took me so long. It looks like you’ve got hairline fractures on both your forearms. I’m not going to recommend casts at this time, but if you can’t refrain from lifting or pulling too much weight, it may become necessary.” She looked at them before giving out a sigh. “Also any impacts could worsen the fractures. I saw the video and if you feel that situation is likely to happen again, I would suggest casts.”

“What video?” Damian immediately pulled out his phone. “What’s the name of the school you go to?” He hadn’t been paying attention to anything but Marinette and the bond. She gave him the name and he used that and her name to do a search. The video the doctor had to be referring to came up immediately. One of them had videoed the encounter and was actually stupid enough to post it online.

“Damian you need to calm down.” Her song was calming, soothing in his head but when he looked up her face was painted with worry. “Deep breaths. I’m okay now so there’s no reason dwelling on it.” He tried to do as she asked and let her melody wash over him. The doctor was looking at him warily as he let his Angel guide him through breathing exercises.

“How did you end up seeing that video?” The doctor didn’t look old enough to have a child their age. She let out an annoyed sigh.

“A couple of the nurses were watching it thinking it was fake or something. I suppose that would have been my immediate reaction too if I didn’t know you were here. It does seem far fetched that anyone involved would actually post something like that. With your permission, I’d like to send the video and your medical information from this visit to the police.”

“What, why? It wasn’t… they were just…” She was trying and failing to come up with something to mitigate what they had done. They treated her horribly and she was still trying to protect them. 

“Angel.” She stopped to look at him, her eyes wide and frightened. He took her good hand in his and rubbed soothing circles on the back of it. “I don’t know why you feel any loyalty to those people but think about it for a minute. One good shot to the head and you could have died.” She opened her mouth to argue but he just kept going. “Not to mention, if they felt it was okay to do this to you what’s to stop them from doing it to someone else. Do you really want someone to get hurt when you could have stopped it? They need to know there are consequences to their actions. They need to know this isn’t okay.”

He watched as she mulled over what he said. The song didn’t reveal much more than intense concentration.

“But if the police end up looking into it they’ll want to question you. I don’t want to make you have to do that. What if you get in trouble with your father over it? I don’t want to cause problems for you.” He just… stared at her. 

“Do you ever actually worry about yourself?” She just blinked at him in confusion which was answer enough. “I absolutely won’t get in trouble for doing the right thing. Honestly if anything my father will be happy I’m letting this go through proper channels instead of handling it myself.” She looked at him quizzically but didn’t comment.

“I guess it’s okay to send. Maybe if they get a wake up call now they’ll have time to change.” If he wasn’t connected to her he would have a hard time believing anyone would be that concerned about a group of people they should want to burn. Fate must have been drunk when it paired the two of them.

“Good. I’ll do that now and send a nurse in to splint and wrap your hand. I know you said you didn’t want any pain meds but I’m giving you a prescription just in case. Generally the pain gets worse the next day.” And with that she was gone again. After that things went far more quickly. Marinette’s hand was situated and she was given care instructions then they were on their way.

Damian scans the waiting room as they enter noticing his father close to the exit. He had his tablet out, probably doing work, but he knew they’d been noticed. Even though he knew that he still turned to Marinette.

“Are you sure you want to do this now? He won’t hold it against you if you’re not up for it.”

“I’m sure. I have a feeling you’re going to be sticking to me no matter what and I’m sure it would make him feel better about it if he met me and my parents.” Damian wasn’t sure how to respond to that. It was true, but he was trying to make her comfortable and all she kept thinking about was other people. How was he supposed to take care of her when she didn’t give him any clues on how to do it?

Master List 1   Master List 2    Prologue   Beginning   Previous   Next

[justjessame]

Babysitting Butcher Chapter 23

I was almost surprised by the ease that Billy moved through the country club dining room, almost but I recalled that he’d bribed one of the waiters before the auction so he’d clearly been inside the building before. The confidence radiating off of him, even as the maitre d’ gave him a look of disgust at his lack of coat and tie, well he had A coat, just not what the regular diners would have worn, Billy’s smile held. He shook his head when offered one of the ‘just in case’ options that the snooty host suggested.

“Veronica’s parents have seen me before, just like this, I’d rather not play pretend,” a curt nod, and the man sniffed at the rebuke. “If it makes your panties unbunch,” he leaned closer, forcing the other man to lean back, “we probably ain’t gonna be here for long. Prior engagement, and whatnot.” I was biting my lip, the maitre d’ looked like he was praying for the likelihood of us turning around and leaving NOW, but seeing Billy unmoving, he shut his eyes to ask for strength instead. And then he opened them, straightened his back further and stalked to the table my parents sat waiting for us at.

As we followed, I whispered that I was confused. When Billy looked down at me, our progress not pausing, I looked up at him from beneath my eyelashes and said he said he wasn’t interested in playacting, which made him shrug. “I guess I’m confused because you promised me a fling with ‘bad cop’ and now you’re saying you don’t want to,” biting my pouting lip, I was rewarded with the flare of his nostrils and the heat of his hand on my lower back as he leaned closer to me.

“Not gonna put on a fucking act for the parents, Veronica, but when we get to the house?” His voice, just as quiet as mine was a rough growl. “All bets are off.”

Shit. Maybe teasing him backfired. I expected him to be as undone by the idea of dessert as I was, and yet he looked as unruffled as ever, and I was twitching with need. Fuck.

My dad stood when we got to the table, my mom stayed seated as her lips thinned at the sight of Billy’s outfit. Too bad, I thought he was gorgeous in his flamboyant shirt, the longer than necessary coat, those damn jeans of his, and his half tied boots. If she really had issues with it, we could always leave. Now. And I’d make sure that he was out of the clearly offensive clothing as soon as my door shut behind us. I considered making that offer as Billy held my chair for me, and when his fingers brushed my bare neck and REALLY wanted to suggest it.

Once Dad and Billy sat, after the host walked away to leave us with our menus, silence reigned. Billy’s hand touched my knee that was bared as my skirt rode up during my sitting down, and I licked my lip to steady the urge to toss the menu and straddle him. Jesus.

“Well?” I broke the silence. Mostly I wanted whatever was coming to come and go. And then Billy and I could go and cum, if you know what I mean? My mom was still eyeing Billy like she was trying to figure out what I could possibly see in him, and I came close to going into incredibly graphic detail of ALL of Billy’s most impressive attributes. Most of them didn’t even involve parts of his body. Dad was looking at his menu with carefully trained indifference.

“The duck sounds delicious,” he offered, and I rolled my eyes. Yes, of course, Dad. Let’s focus on eating Daffy and NOT on the ridiculous reason Mom insisted on dinner. “I think I’ll have that with the-” he literally sat and went over his entire order. All four courses. Including dessert. Shit.

“While that’s riveting,” I deadpanned, I shot a look at my mom. “I’m fairly certain this lovely dinner wasn’t demanded just so we could hear how succulent the duck sounds.” If I thought my mom’s lips were thin when we arrived, I was almost impressed by just how fucking thin they could get. “Well?” Again, this time fully directed at the woman who theoretically pushed me out of her nether regions.

“Honestly, Veronica.” I had to hold back another eye roll, and Billy was helping by applying not so subtle pressure to my knee. “First we’ll order dinner, and then-”

“I’d much rather get whatever issues that caused you to infiltrate Billy’s cell phone number to get out and over with, maybe then I’ll have an appetite for Donald.” Pretty sure I even managed a smile at the end. Maybe I looked pleasant, but I had doubts by the way my mom was clutching the stem of her glass.

Pursing her lips, which made them marginally wider than they had been, my mom studied me. “I had thought that we spent ample time raising you properly, Veronica, but perhaps I was incorrect.” Sweet, disappointment and we’d only sat down moments ago. “The ‘issues’ that forced me to-” she looked like she was sucking a pickle with how distasteful she found having to find out Billy’s contact information. “Returning a phone call or a text message,” how did she manage to make texting sound like signing a pact with Satan? “Shouldn’t be beyond you.”

“Oh, it isn’t beyond me.” I felt oddly relaxed, of course that could have been due to Billy’s fingers sliding up and down my inner thigh. “In fact, today I returned several missed calls and I even managed to text three people. Hell,” Mom’s eyes narrowed as I leaned forward as though sharing a deep dark secret. “I EVEN managed to send a couple emails.” Take that, Mommy Dearest.

“Veronica,” it was my dad, and a glance told me that he was in the running for the most narrow eyes in the family challenge. “You know very well what your mother is saying.”

“I do,” I agreed. Taking a beat to lick my lip again, since Billy’s finger was getting dangerously close to the top of my stockings. “I have to wonder, however, if the two of you understand that not only am I an adult, but I also have complete autonomy. I am actually, by the grace of the country we live in, given full rights to decide who I answer and who I ignore. And that includes the two of you.” I shifted in my chair, letting my legs fall a tiny bit further apart. Even if he was being strangely silent, Billy was giving his own type of support and damned if it wasn’t helping.

The waiter came then, and Dad was firmly locked and loaded with his order. Mom gave hers begrudgingly, then Billy who I was shocked knew what he wanted since I thought he’d been diverted by diverting me. When it was my turn, I flipped open my menu and ordered my own meal being as clear and fast as my three dining companions.

Once the waiter was out of earshot, my mom’s focus returned to me. “And this autonomy that you’re so proud of, you are aware that it comes with a high price.” Ah, my inheritance. I smirked, because once I’d learned this disaster of a face off was coming, I’d done what I was more than capable of doing. I researched. “Are you willing to pay such a heavy fee?” She looked so smug, so sure of her hold over me, that I almost felt sorry for her.

Instead of answering her, I turned to Billy. Leaning closer to him, but letting my voice carry in a stage whisper across the table, I smiled as he played along and tilted his own head closer. “My mom thinks she owns me, all because of the dangling promise of my future inheritance.” Billy’s fingers were still toying with me, but his eyes were locked on mine. “Which is hilarious, since I actually came into the bulk of my money when I turned eighteen, five years after my LAST grandparent died. She forgets that I used part of it to pay for college, a VERY small part of it.” I could see him fighting a laugh. “Not only that,” I leaned closer, wanting so badly to just kiss the living fuck out of him instead of dealing with this nonsense. “But Dad took over my granddad’s company, and he hasn’t added a SINGLE client to it since. I have a feeling,” a glance at my parents showed me they were RIVETED and appalled at the information I’d gathered in preparation for what they assumed would be their heavy handed negotiations. “I’m in better financial state than they are, but they STILL insist on paying for my membership to this fucking hellhole.” I kissed him then, too happy to hold back, because I knew with that parting shot I’d done it. I won.

Billy Butcher didn’t disappoint. Once my lips brushed his, he took over, moving his errant hand to join the other cupping my face and taking the kiss we BOTH wanted, audience be damned. And as our tongues touched, I vaguely heard a throat clearing, but couldn’t have stopped tasting the man I loved if I wanted to, and I truly didn’t want to.

 Our dinner didn’t last much longer. We did ask for our meals to be wrapped up so we could take them with us, after all, I hated the club, but their food was amazing. It took no time to get the beautiful, heavy bag of food, and I didn’t glance at my very angry parents as we walked away. I didn’t blush when Billy’s hand went farther south as we weaved through the tables filled with the snooty assholes that my parents claimed as friends. I didn’t pay attention to the whispers, or the looks, because all I could focus on was getting Billy home and having dessert. Hours and hours of dessert, and then once that craving was satisfied, maybe we’d have dinner.

[spacetimeconundrum]

Lockdown Boredom Level: Watching Hockey Movies for Specific Canadian Actors

Today’s victim: Goon (2011)

Warning: Spoilers and screencaps containing blood and injuries below:

We're doing this folks, buckle up

Opening on a hockey fight, good

Oh wow, that is Liev Schreiber!

...with a mullet. Hell yeah!

Aww and our protagonist Doug is about to beat up a homophobic hockey dude

I like him already

There's more blood sfx than I expected.

Learning to skate montage !

Ahh... the trashy majesty of minor league hockey.

The hockey footage is great, btw.

The goalie with his mother's face on his mask !!

The protagonist is weirdly sweet but not very bright, oh hon.

Must protect him.

A wild love interest appears !

Now he's drunkenly telling her she's pretty. Smooth.

And the team captain is attempting to give a team pep talk by referencing his ongoing divorce. Double smooth.

Now Doug is trying to convince the coach to play him by staring at the coach.

CKR has yet to appear, I was promised CKR.

He'll be along at SOME point I hope?

Our protagonist now has a date though so that's nice

Aww, and he helped them score a goal

- I am informed that I grabbed the wrong film, CKR is only in the sequel -

Dammit amazon, you failed me

Worst case scenario I'm watching two hockey movies though, so I'm not mad.

I'm enjoying this one, lol.

I have failed successfully I guess?

Protagonist Doug's date started poorly, aww buddy.

She secretly likes him though.

Now he's making her laugh with an anecdote involving medical waste - this had to have been ad-libbed.

Ooh goon vs goon fight.

I think he made a friend by punching him!

Goal off Doug's ass!

Aww, they gave Doug the A.

His family is horrified by the hockey stories.

Aww buddy, Doug, no, you're breaking my heart here calling yourself stupid.

Dad's not getting any parenting awards for this conversation.

Half credit to the brother for saying he's proud of him before ditching him though.

Showdown with bitchy problem-child former star player !

The team just entered Quebec and the crowd HATES them.

Well, that's not good, asshole teammate is on the ice and Doug is maybe gonna get ejected.

One game suspension, could've been worse.

Ah hello again romance B plot.

Ooh and Mullet!Liev is baack.

Boss fight arranged.

Captain tried to fight the boss goon, it went... poorly.

"My stomach light needs your stomach light. We can all phone home together."

Punching enemy player while making direct, uninterrupted eye contact with your teammate is a new one.

Also, an hour into this film's run time and I just realized who they got to play the announcer - Curt Keilback!! (former Phoenix Coyotes announcer) - no wonder his voice sounds familiar, he's the hockey play-by-play guy I used to listen to all the time.

Ow! Puck to the face!

All out brawl, aw yeah.

Aww, drunken coach praise ️!

And he's getting the girl :)

Not sure going to see her ex-boyfriend and apologizing by letting him hit you was wise, but okay Doug.

Boss fight game!

My unreasonable love for alcoholic hot mess team captain continues.

Asshole!teammate is getting his act together too.

The villain scored a goal, boo.

Ooh fake out, no fight yet.

Eyeing each other from the penalty box, movie you're a tease.

Gloves off!

Ow.

Good show, though.

- CREDITS -

Conclusions: No regrets. Good hockey movie. Humor’s kinda juvenile in places but fun watch.

–

Stay tuned for Part 2 - wherein I watch the sequel!

[xavier-bennett]

Speed Meet | Heather & Xavier

@heatherpayne​

February 14th, 2020

Lake House Bar and Grill

Evening

Heather knew she would regret coming to this event. Speed dating was dumb enough, but speed meeting? What a lame thing to come up with. Still, desperate for any new information on the people in town, Heather had signed up for this speed dating event as an excuse for asking intrusive questions. Luckily for her, people loved to talk about themselves, though stopping seemed to be the hard part. She didn't think she could last for three more hours of this social torture, but at least the next table she sat at had a vaguely familiar face. "So, did you ever get the grocery pyramid home," she glanced at his name tag, "Xavier?"

Despite how long he'd been in town, Xavier was low on friends. He had plenty of acquaintances, but it never hurt to meet new people. Broaden your horizons. You never knew who would end up being your friend. Plus it was nice to get out into the community. Work often kept him from being as involved as he would like, at least with the night time events. He laughed at his partner, remembering her from the grocery store when his cans had been in the middle of mutiny. "I did, I did. It was much easier after your help." Xavier said, taking a moment to read her name tag. "Well, it's nice to see you again Heather. Now I can properly thank you for your help."

"Glad to be of help." Heather shot Xavier a smile. Xavier, that was a cool name, like Professor Xavier of the X-Men. "So, what do you like to do other than feed the entire neighborhood?" Though she hadn't seen him since before Christmas and had liked him well enough, she was glad that she had not gone to the group dinner. She was being reminded today how torturous strangers could be.February 21, 2020

Xavier chuckled. He would gladly feed the entire neighborhood all the time, but they would probably get sick of them “I like to jog, but that’s pretty hard to do this time of year. I volunteer when I can.” Those weren’t really hobbies though, were they? “I don’t know if it counts as a hobby, but sometimes I’ll get a stack of romcoms from the library and a nice bottle of wine and binge watch them with my cats. What about yourself? What do you do when you’re not rescuing shoppers from themselves?”

Heather considered him listing volunteering. That could either mean he was a really good guy, or an obnoxious one trying to sound selfless. He seemed genuine at least. "I take kickboxing lessons and did kung fu for a while. I see jogging though as more of a chore than any sort of hobby." She snorted at the cheesy answer."To each their own, but I go for action and adventure."

"Remind me to never challenge you to a fight." Xavier said, eyes wide as she mentioned that she did kung fu. "Yeah, I can see that about jogging but I find it relaxing. I like the routine of it." He liked the routine of most of his day, to be honest. "I know, it's not what you expect when you look at me. What can I say? Action and adventure are good in small doses, but the market is pretty saturated nowadays and they just rely on CGI far too much."

"Aw, but it would be fun." Heather pouted but couldn't hide her smile. "That makes sense." She could appreciate a good routine and ordered life. "Please, like there is any shortage of romance. Anyways, they try to push romance into action movies, yet there aren't enough sword fights in romcoms."

"Fun for you. I'm not sure about me." Xavier chuckled. "No, there aren't that many sword fights in most romcoms, but it doesn't really bother me. I don't watch them for fight scenes. I watch them because I want to forget what the world is really like."

"Party pooper." Well, she had other sparring partners. "Oh yeah, movies are absolutely escapism. I'm just not the romantic type. Straight comedy can be good if it's not too cheesy."

"I'm sorry. Sparring isn't my thing. But I'd be down for arm wrestling. Or a thumb war." Xavier didn't usually arm wrestle, but he didn't want Heather to think he was a total party pooper. He knew how to have fun. "Nah, that's fair. The world just seems a little kinder in romcoms, is all, you know? But there are some classic comedies. I don't mind cheesy movies, but yeah cheesy comedy is pretty rough."

"Okay, you're on." Heather leaned forward and placed her elbow on the table, hand raised. "There's a point of cheesy that is ironic, and a point of cheesy that is mind-numbingly stupid." She thought herself above such silly and mindless gags.

Xavier grinned, matching her posture and grabbing hold of her hand. “Ready, then?” He asked her. “I think we’ll have to agree to disagree about cheesy movies.”

"Or maybe this will decide who is right." She gripped Xavier's hand and counted, "1, 2, 3!" Heather was met with surprising resistance right away. She grit her teeth as she dug her elbow into the table. "So you did build some muscle pushing your full cart around the store."

Xavier grinned, showing off his sparkling white teeth, a delighted laugh escaping his mouth. Heather was quite the challenger, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had this much fun arm wrestling. Probably because he couldn’t remember the last time that he’d arm wrestled. “Well it’s not like that was the only time I’ve had a cart that full. It’s not like that was my first rodeo. I see your efforts haven’t been in vain either.”

"You are very dedicated to your training. Commendable." She snicked as he admitted her strength. This was by far the most fun Heather had had all evening, and she noticed in her periphery a few people starting to watch their little competition. Now that Xavier was working his muscles, Heather noticed how impressive they were through his shirt. "All of my training comes from throwing cans of veggies at hapless shoppers."

“A man’s honor comes from his dedication to his training.” Xavier said, nodding seriously. He noticed the attention that they were drawing, and he didn’t blame them, they certainly made quite the pair. They were both giving a good effort, but Xavier still had more to give, and so increased his efforts, a quirking his brow with a smirk in a silent challenge. “Well, it pays off, but I think that pushing the cans around gives me more of an edge.”

Heather returned a curt nod. "But a woman's honor comes from winning." She glared at him as she tried to push harder, but his efforts were proving very formidable. As she prepared her next snark, a loud sound pierced the air, startling her. By the moment her concentration returned to the battle at hand, Heather's arm was to the table. "Shit," escaped her mouth.

Xavier almost felt bad that he won because of Heather's distract. Almost. "Hey, that was a good effort.  Maybe next time." Xavier said, holding out his hand for a handshake, a cocky smile on his face. "Sorry it didn't go your way this time."

Heather was this close to pouting like a child as she returned the handshake, but settled for giving a tighter than necessary squeeze. "I only lost because I was distracted, so I demand a rematch. Should we trade numbers for scheduling purposes?" She also did actually want his number as a friend.

"I'm sure we could arrange something." Xavier agreed. He pulled out his wallet, retrieving one of the business cards that he kept in there and handing it over to Heather. "Doesn't have to be a rematch though. You can just admit that you were curious to see if my cooking lives up to all the hype."

"Ooh, fancy, a business card," Heather teased as she took the card and looked it over. Pocketing it, she replied, "I've never heard anyone but you talk about your cooking." But, to be honest, she was a bit tired of cooking the same few meals for herself. "But maybe you need someone to knock that opinion down a few notches." She smiled as she stood and gathered up her jacket.

“You never know when you’re going to need one, I like to be prepared.” Xavier said, tucking his wallet back into his pocket before straightening his shirt, which had gotten into a state of disarray during their arm wrestling match. “I’m always happy to cook for a friend, no matter the motivation. All they need to do is ask.”

"Preparation is key," Heather agreed, though she didn't have a business card. At this point, she didn't want her contact info so easily accessible. "Great. Thanks for the offer. I'll see you around."

[thecorpulentbeagle]

P5 Shipping Round Robin: Day 28

Oof. That’s all I can say after writing this one-shot. I really struggle to write both of these characters, so writing them romantically involved was even harder!

Here is the fanfiction.net link.

Please enjoy this next part of the P5 Shipping Round Robin Challenge!

P5 Shipping Round Robin Challenge:

The Note:

Yusuke x Goro

-Goro-

Arriving at the courthouse, Goro sighed tiredly as he straightened out his tie. It had been an exhausting week, and he was pretty sure he’d slept less than a total of 20 hours in the past seven days.

But, he was closer than ever before in succeeding in his master plan. After infiltrating the Phantom Thieves, they seemed none the wiser about his true intentions. All the sleepless nights were going to be well worth the trouble, in the end.

But for now, Goro was suffering. He’d operated on little sleep in the past, but with everything going on now, it seemed to be much more difficult to maintain an outside appearance of pleasantness.

Which was why, when someone bumped into him, he uncharacteristically snapped, “Watch it!” He’d been hit so hard that his briefcase went flying, unfortunately landing on the pavement with enough force that it snapped open, some papers scattering.

Goro gasped. A lot of those documents were top secret – he couldn’t afford to lose them, and he definitely couldn’t afford to have anyone in the public see them.

He dived forward to snatch up the papers, collecting them in a pile. He went for the briefcase next, but he found that whoever had bumped into him had beaten him to it. Following the hand with his eyes, he traced a visual line up the arm and eventually to the face and shoulders of the person.

Yusuke Kitagawa.

“Apologies, Akechi. I hadn’t meant to stumble into you quite so… vehemently.” The artist stood, picking up the briefcase and clicking it shut. He chuckled. “I was merely attempting to get your attention, but you seemed somewhat out-of-it, so I guess we ran into each other a little too hard.”

Goro flushed. He was embarrassed at having lost his composure, but he was also worried the artist had seen a part of his true nature. He scanned the other boy’s face, but all he saw was a pleasant look, his head slightly tilted. He must have been confused at Goro’s lack of response.

The detective prince cleared his throat. “Why, h-hello, Yusuke. Funny meeting you here.”

“Yes. I was passing by the area and saw you passing by as well. Are you headed to work?” Yusuke nodded his head towards the courthouse.

Goro nodded. “I am indeed, Yusuke.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I apologize for snapping at you. I’ve had a few restless nights, and I fear the stress of it all is finally catching up to me.”

Yusuke smiled gently. “Not an issue. I myself have experienced those types of nights. I understand completely.”

The two stood there for a moment, neither one saying anything. Deciding to break the silence, Goro gestured towards the item in Yusuke’s hand. “Thank you for saving my briefcase, by the way.”

The artist nodded, handing the item to the detective prince. “Of course. It was partially my fault that it was dislodged from your hands anyway. It was the least I could do.”

Goro accepted the briefcase. He quickly opened it up and deposited the papers that he had collected before clicking it closed again. Smiling wryly at the artist, he quipped, “You didn’t happen to sneak a peak at any of the documents in here, did you?”

“I did not. I wasn’t going to intrude on your personal business.”

Goro wasn’t sure if Yusuke was completely telling the truth, but he decided to trust him for now. “I see. Well then, I suppose I’ll be seeing you –”

Yusuke cut him off quickly. “Later tonight. Akira has called a meeting, and he wants to make sure that we can all attend.” He gave Goro a serious look. “We are going to be infiltrating the target’s palace today.”

The detective prince thought it was a little unusual not to mention Sae by name, but he figured that Yusuke was keeping it a secret since they were talking in public.

“I see.” Goro nodded. “I’ll be there. Please text me the details later.”

“Of course.” Yusuke stepped back. “I will take my leave now. Take care, Akechi.”

Goro echoed a similar sentiment before turning to walk away. As he did so, he thought he felt a slight… touch on top of his gloved hand.

He snapped his head around, but Yusuke was already walking away, and he was gone in seconds.

Goro inspected his hand. Had Yusuke really just…?

He shook his head. Of course not. It must have just been his imagination. Shaking off the thought, Goro turned and walked the few remaining steps toward the courthouse.

He passed through the doors and into the building, seeing Sae at her usual place in the lobby. She was scanning through a newspaper, her eyes darting quickly around the page. He could tell that she was only mildly interested in what she was reading, and that it was more of a cover to disguise what she was really doing. Namely, waiting for the detective prince to arrive.

He decided that he shouldn’t keep her waiting any longer – she could get as dangerous as her sister when she was irritated. Clearing his throat, the boy called out, “Sae-san! How have you been?”

The prosecutor looked up at his voice, and immediately folded up the newspaper, placing it on the coffee table in front of her. “The same as always. Let’s get to work now, shall we?”

Goro grinned. “Just as curt as ever, I see.” Sae glared at him. Hm… perhaps that was too much of a tease? He was finding it a little hard as to where he should draw the line, seeing as he was so sleep-deprived. “A-anyway… I just need to get the papers out of my briefcase, and then we can go up to your office to discuss them.” He sat down to open up the item.

Sae sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Why not just get the papers out in my office?”

Goro smiled. “I thought we could discuss on our way. I know you’re not always one for conversation.” The woman merely hummed in slight annoyance and said nothing.

As the detective prince clicked open the briefcase, he found the documents that he was looking for. But as he went to reach for them, he saw that there was a separate piece of paper that didn’t quite belong. He couldn’t remember putting it in there.

“I wonder what this is…” Goro murmured, pulling it out. It was folded up, so he slowly undid the fold, his eyes scanning across the message written in delicate script.

‘Akechi,

It would be my honor to take you out to a dining establishment of your choice, hopefully one that falls within my budget. You are an extremely handsome individual, and I would be very interested in getting to know you better.

Please let me know your answer after our strategy meeting tonight.

Yusuke’

Goro spluttered. When had…? But, of course! The artist must have snuck this note into his briefcase when he had picked it up. Had that entire encounter been planned from the beginning…?

At Goro’s gasp, Sae turned to look at him. “What’s wrong? You seem oddly flushed.”

The detective prince shook his head, willing his blush to fade. “N-nothing, Sae-san. Just… uh… I have to use the restroom!” He cringed internally at his childish response, but nevertheless slammed his briefcase closed and ran towards the bathroom, taking it with him.

“But… with your briefcase?” He heard Sae mutter in confusion just before he was out of earshot.

Kinda weird but kinda funny I hope! I think the reason that Yusuke was able to slip that note into Goro’s briefcase without noticing was because Goro was so focused on staring at the artist’s gorgeous face… or something like that anyway!

Tomorrow is the last day. That means that anyone who has been following this story can use process of elimination to figure out what the last one-shot will be. I will see you all tomorrow!

[a-k-a-ruenis]

Confession

Rating; General Audiences

Fandom; Aldnoah.Zero

Relationship; Kaizuka Inaho / Slaine Troyard

Part 4/?

Story under the cut!

Alternatively, please click here to read it on my Ao3!

Despite having offered to assist Slaine with his research report, Inaho finds himself simply staring at the blond, not hearing a word that comes out of his mouth. His brown eyes flicker between Slaine's own teal ones, and the papers in his hands, then back to his eyes, and – he really is trying to pay attention, but he realised a few months back that his favourite colour is the colour of Slaine's eyes. Resting his head on his hand, he attempts to actually pay attention this time..

...

Slaine is far too invested in his report to notice Inaho staring at him, and continues to read at an even pace, “.. planetary locations indicate that the next..” He slowly trails off upon raising his head, “Are you even listening to me?”

No response.

“Inaho?” Slaine calls, frowning now.

“Mm?” Inaho murmurs, blinking and focusing to find the blond upset with him.

“You weren't listening to me,” Slaine says, a mixture of disappointment and hurt on his features, “You were the one who offered to help me proofread my essay. If you aren't going to..–”

“I'm sorry,” Inaho apologises quietly, watching as the blond's eyes widen, “I'll pay attention.”

Slaine's cheeks darken somewhat in pleasant surprise, and he brushes a tuft of platinum out of his face. He returns to looking at his paper, grip tightening on it somewhat. “The current planetary locations indicate that the next alignment of planets will be..”

Inaho finds himself gazing at his older sister instead of eating the takeout she had ordered for them – every Wednesday, she orders pizza or whatever Inaho requests – and he sets his chopsticks down after a few moments of her not noticing. “Yuki-nee,” he calls, easily earning her gaze, “I want to talk to you about something.”

“Sure, Nao,” Yuki says almost immediately, swallowing what rice she had been chewing. She also sets her own chopsticks down and pushes her plate aside; she has recognised that she does tend to get overexcited over certain things, and does not want to make a mess. Smiling expectantly at the younger brunet, she laces her fingers together and leans against the table, patiently waiting for Inaho to continue.

The brunet stays quiet for a moment, his brown fixing to Yuki's own lighter coloured eyes. He is not going to beat around the bush. “I like Slaine,” he says bluntly, watching Yuki's eyes widen, “in a romantic way.”

“You..” Her face is blank for a few moments, and Inaho only gazes at her blankly. “You do?!” she asks, features shifting to that of sheer delight and elation, “I'm so happy for you, Nao!” Yuki leans over the table and grasps Inaho's hands in her own, squeezing them affectionately as she grins at him, “No wonder you've invited him over so often! I knew he interested you!”

“Erm..” Inaho stares at her, wondering if he should correct the first statement.

If Slaine thought he was only being invited over to satisfy Inaho's romantic interest in him..

That would be bad. Very bad.

“I actually only realised I liked him a few days ago,” he tells the older brunette, “I invited him over often because I wanted to befriend him.”

Please do not tell him otherwise. He's finally comfortable being here.

“I would appreciate it if you didn't say anything for now, Yuki-nee.. or take any unnecessary steps in an attempt to improve our relationship,” he says softly, recalling how Yuki tried (extremely) hard to set him up with Inko (for as long as they have known each other), Rayet (a year ago), and even Asseylum when she first transferred in. It was..odd. Inaho was unaware at the time that his romantic interest would only apply to one specific person.

Yuki looks horrified: “I would never!”

“.. thank you,” Inaho murmurs, knowing that her fake horror is meant to tease him. He smiles at her slightly when she relaxes into a loving grin, and allows Yuki a few more questions.

“You're going to tell him, right?”

“I'm.. thinking about it,” Inaho says carefully, “I don't.. want to ruin our current relationship. Slaine finally trusts me enough to spend time with me, and.. to take that away from him would be..”

Yuki nods somewhat, frowning a bit at the dilemma.

Slaine has been over enough for her to see that he does indeed struggle with relationships and interactions. Although, as of late, his most recent visits involve him being comfortable enough to wander around the house without supervision or escort. He even wanders into Inaho's room sometimes, though he always asks before he does. He likes the books the brunet has on the shelf in there, as well a few movies and documentaries.

“.. is it alright if I invite Slaine over for dinner while you're at work?” Inaho asks, earning a cheerful grin.

“Of course!” Yuki hums, agreeing without so much as a question of why. Anything to help her little brother in his romantic endeavours.

Kaizuka Inaho has no idea how he is supposed to tell Slaine Troyard how he feels about him.

.. or rather, it is more a question of 'should I tell him?' versus 'how much do I value my friendship with him?'

He does not have an answer to the first question – yet – but he highly values his friendship with the blond, and not just because he finds him interesting. He genuinely cares about ensuring Slaine is happy and well taken care of now that he is in a better, emotionally healthy environment. And.. because he cares so much about Slaine's happiness.. if he were to want to be with someone else, perhaps her, Inaho would support him.

“Inaho.”

The stern voice draws Inaho from his thoughts, and he once again realises that he had stopped paying attention to Slaine.

“What did I just say?” Slaine asks, testing the brunet's ability to focus. He looks unhappy, upset, but thankfully, not angry – his teal eyes are only narrowed somewhat, and his arms are crossed against his chest, fingers digging into his arm.

“.. I apologise,” Inaho says quietly.

Attempting to lie would be futile.

Slaine sighs quietly, dropping his gaze to Inaho's hand; a few short moments ago, when he realised the other was no longer paying attention, he noticed Inaho rapping his fingers against the desk as if in deep thought. He stopped upon Slaine calling his name. Setting his papers down on the shared desk between them, Slaine seats himself across from the brunet and gazes at him pointedly. “Are you angry?”

Inaho blinks, confusion flickering across his features. “No,” he answers honestly, “Why would you think that?”

The last emotion I would feel toward you would be anger.

“Upset, then. Are you upset about something?” Slaine amends, initial disappointment disappearing as he continues to stare at the brunet, looking over his normally blank features. He has put in extra effort trying to unravel the enigma that is Inaho Kaizuka, and has come to figure out a small amount of his tells.

Inaho smiles unexpectedly, but smiles more around friends or doing things he enjoys. When he is upset, he does that rapping thing with his fingers, and his features are either stone or mixed with just a hint of annoyance. When he is angry, he gets even more quiet than usual, and when he does speak, it is curt, hard, and cold.

“I'm not upset, no,” Inaho murmurs, pulling his hand off of the desk. He rests it on his lap, brown watching as teal flickers downward.

“But something is clearly bothering you. You've been off your game this past week,” Slaine points out, and, rather than looking amused by the fact, he actually looks a bit concerned. “Normally, listening would prove easy for you, given you speak so little. But you haven't been able to focus. What's such a nuisance that even you can't even find easy to bottle up?”

“I realised I have feelings for you.”

.. is what someone would illogically say, completely disregarding their potential partner's feelings on the issue. Inaho has no intention of throwing Slaine's feelings out the window, not at least without first asking if he even returns.. –

“Inaho?” Slaine calls, leaning forward slightly to catch the brunet's eyes.

Inhaling sharply upon seeing how close Slaine is to his face, Inaho cannot help but notice the pickup in his own heart rate. “Yes?”

The blond pulls away slowly, that concerned look still on his features. He purses his lips, not saying anything for a minute or so as he stares at the other. Then, he slowly starts to put his papers back into the small folder beside him, neatly stacking the papers so that they are straight and aligned with each other.

“What are you..–”

“Shush,” Slaine says, though he still does not look nor sound angry or upset in anyway. Leaning down slightly, he grabs his bag and pulls it upward onto the table. He deposits the folder in it and closes the clasps once more.

“Slaine..–”

“Let's go to my place,” Slaine interrupts, standing up and slinging his bag over his shoulder, “I'm starting to get hungry, and there are no snacks here.” He starts to walk out of the classroom, glancing backward at the brunet.

Inaho nods slightly and grabs his own bag, slowly following after the other, “Alright.”

Slaine, Inaho has noticed, is not much of a cook. He does cook well, but does not seem to branch out.

After Slaine informed him of his Icelandic origin, Inaho has noticed that some of what the blond cooks reflects such; he cooks a variety of seafood, potato dishes, and, rarely, lamb – lamb is expensive here, which leads to Slaine rarely buying it, even if Asseylum is willing to foot the bill. Slaine also cooks a few Russian dishes, which usually include potatoes, and sometimes prepares soups or porridge. He seems least knowledgeable on Japanese dishes, though has improved since Inaho bought him a recipe book.

Today, Slaine is preparing salmon and potatoes.

Despite Slaine having told Inaho to “go watch TV or something”, he is instead sitting in the kitchen watching as Slaine prepares the food. “Do you need any help?” he asks, already knowing the answer.

“No,” Slaine says firmly, turning his head slightly to frown at his guest. He continues to chop up the potatoes, setting them in a large pot filled with already boiling water. He had finished with the fish awhile ago, and it is sitting, already seasoned, on a grill with low heat.

Inaho goes quiet, gazing at Slaine from behind. He can see Slaine's long eyelashes at this angle, Slaine's lips.. –

He looks away immediately, mentally reprimanding himself. He knows Slaine dislikes it when he stares for extended periods of time, not that the blond noticed when they were attempting to review his research paper.

Staring makes him uncomfortable, he reminds himself, dark eyes narrowing as he gazes pointedly at the table. “.. are you reading the book I gave you?”

“The recipe one? I read it every now and then,” Slaine answers, pausing for a moment. He turns his head to look at Inaho again, and cocks his head. “You've been spacey lately. More than usual,” he murmurs, looking almost concerned once more.

This is Slaine's way of asking, “Are you okay?”

Setting his knife down and stepping away from the counter, Inaho looks up, realising that Slaine is finally done cutting the potatoes. They are now all boiling, and the fish is cooking, allowing the blond to sit down beside Inaho.

“Are you sick?”

Are you okay?

“I'm.. not sick, no,” Inaho answers.

“Is your eye hurting again?”

Are you okay?

“My eye is fine. It hasn't hurt in a few weeks. The paint was cleaned out soon enough to stop any permanent damage,” Inaho says, listening to Slaine sigh softly at the response.

He looks relieved.

“Why are you bothered, then?”

Why are you not okay?

Inaho's resolve falters.

Slaine is worried about him, even if he does not look or outwardly act like it. He noticed the change in behaviour, knew something was off a few days ago. But only decided to comment on it when it was clearly obstructing Inaho's ability to focus and work properly, when he was unable to ignore it any longer.

Inaho eyes the blond, watching as his eyes narrow further. “Can I tell you at the end of this week? Saturday?”

The question causes Slaine to blink in surprise.

“I need to think about my answer. I don't want it to come out wrong.”

I don't want to say it in a way that upsets you.

Slaine bites his bottom lip, frowning at the comment. He nods suddenly, once, twice, and looks away. “That's fine,” he says, nodding a third time, “Just.. don't think too hard about it. You'll end up hurting yourself.”

I want you to be okay.

The corner of Inaho's lips twitches.

Inaho pays attention for the rest of the week.

He stares, but not in the way that makes Slaine uncomfortable, nor in the way where he seems like he is not paying attention.

He responds, offers help and aid for Slaine to use to fix or adjust his paper.

And Slaine does not ask about what is bothering him again.

Saturday comes, and Inaho realises that Slaine is anxious standing before him.

The blond is fidgeting, teal eyes narrowed as he gazes at the brunet standing calmly in front of him. His fingertips are turning red from how hard he is gripping the straps to his bag, and his foot is digging into the dirt.

“Are you sure you don't want to sit down?” Inaho asks, glancing toward the empty benches across the small pond. He is worried they might fall in if Slaine reacts badly.

“I'm fine,” Slaine insists, shaking his head somewhat, “Just – just get on with it already. What's been bothering you?” He says the words too quickly; worry is laced within his usually careful tone.

Inaho pauses, then clears his throat. “I have something to tell you, then.”

“I figured as much, Orange. Please just..–”

“Wait,” Inaho interrupts, holding a hand up. “What I say may very likely change how you feel about me. You could come to despise me. Do you still want to hear it?”

Slaine hesitates, chewing on his bottom lip. His gaze slips for a few moments. “I.. doubt you would say something so horrible and thoughtless that it would make me hate you. But you're dense enough to say something that would unintentionally piss me off..”

Inaho has done so before. On multiple occasions.

But Slaine is right; it was unintentional.

“.. even so, I don't think you would brood over something for so long only to upset me. So.. say it,” Slaine says, words eloquent and quiet.

Alright then.

“I've realised recently that I have feelings for someone. Romantic feelings.”

Slaine sputters.

His face goes red, and he raises a hand to cover his mouth, gaze immediately slipping to the soft ground under his feet.

Inaho takes a step forward almost instantly, thinking that the blond is upset or – God forbid – crying. “Slaine?” he calls, gently putting a hand on his shoulder.

The blond starts to tremble, and quiet noises escape his lips.

Is.. is he cryi-..

Slaine raises his head, tears in his eyes, mouth still covered, “Oh my God!”

Inaho pulls away.

He's laughing.

Slaine raises his other hand, placing it over the other, and laughs loudly into them, hiding what Inaho assumes to be the biggest grins he has ever had around Inaho. His laughter is loud, genuine, and so so sweet.

Inaho has heard Slaine laugh; snickers here and there, quiet laughter, but nothing so real as this.

Laughter turns into coughs as Slaine gasps for air, and he crouches down to cough into his hands, slowly starting to calm down. “Why..–” He snickers, raising his head to gaze up at the brunet, “Why were you..” He coughs again, cheeks red from the lack of air now.

Inaho gazes at the other, watching as his laughter eventually subsides, allowing Slaine to stand back up.

Slaine has the biggest smile on his lips. An amused, mischievous grin, but a grin nonetheless. It is the most he has ever smiled at Inaho. “Why were you brooding over something like.. like that?” he asks, wiping the tears out of his eyes, “I.. never imagined you'd be able to act like that, but I suppose you are normal. Who is it, then? Who has you all out of sorts?”

Brown fixes to teal. Then, in a serious, quiet tone, he murmurs, “It's you.”

The colour from Slaine's face drains, smile disappearing from shock. “Wh.. what..?”

“I like you, Slaine,” Inaho murmurs.

Slaine falls silent.

All traces of amusement and his grin are gone, replaced with what seems to be utter shock and confusion.

Inaho remains motionless, staring at the blond, waiting for him to react in any way.

Positively, negatively, anything that does not include this unnerving silence. He finds himself anxious. Slaine could react in any way and Inaho would be relieved.

And then, finally, after minutes of stunned silence, Slaine speaks: “I'm the one you've been agonising over?”

He sounds like he is in disbelief; his voice is quiet, somewhat shaky.

“Yes,” Inaho responds seriously.

Slaine swallows, and then licks his lips. His eyes dart between Inaho and the pond, as if he cannot decide what to settle his eyes on. He looks.. uncertain, now, as if he really does not believe the brunet. “What do you – what do you like about me?” he asks slowly.

Inaho immediately understands what he is getting at. “I like the way you smile when you think no one is looking,” he says softly, taking a careful step forward, “I like how your eyes light up when you're enjoying something. I like seeing you happy.” He does not hesitate with his words, knowing that any delay at all would cause Slaine to take back his initial feelings.

Taking an instinctive step backward, Slaine blinks at the action, but shows no outward signs of distrust and discomfort. “I'm.. not an agreeable person. It's hard to get along with me,” he tries, voice still shaking.

Don't say that.

“We can make it work, if that's what you want,” Inaho points out.

The blond finally seems to relax somewhat, and lets his guard down. His balled-up fists return to a normal resting position, and his shoulders drop. “I wouldn't make a very good lover. I'm not trusting.”

I know what you're trying to do. It isn't going to work.

“We'll take it as slow or fast as you want. I don't mind either way.”

The corners of Slaine's lips tug upward. “I could get bored. I could leave you,” he whispers, though the words do not sound serious at all. They sound teasing, if anything, like a child playfully taunting another.

“If I make you happy for even a short time, I would be content,” Inaho murmurs.

Slaine cannot help it, now – he allows himself to smile finally, smile sheepish and filled with relief. “You really don't mind?” he whispers, his comments having absolutely no affect on Inaho's resolve.

“I don't. I'd like to be the one to make you happy, Slaine,” Inaho says softly.

Laughing softly, Slaine nods somewhat, raising his head a bit to meet Inaho's dark eyes. “I.. accept, then, Inaho Kaizuka. I believe the term here is, 'I'm in your hands, now'?”

Slaine smiles at him again – not the sheepish smile, but a small, happy grin that Inaho is positive means he is content with their new status. “So, you're my lover now, right?” he asks quietly, sitting across from the brunet on the floor.

They have a kotatsu between them. Inaho had set it up immediately upon them arriving, and had sworn under his breath about it being too cold to stand around for that long outside. It had been his idea, however, for him and Slaine to talk in a park. He thought it would be more comforting if they were in neutral territory.

“If you'd like to use that term, yes,” Inaho nods somewhat, both his legs and hands under the warm blanket. “Personally, I'll be referring to you as my 'boyfriend' from now on.”

The comment causes Slaine's cheeks to flush, but his smile widens just a bit.

“I..” Slaine hesitates, gaze slipping to the kotatsu's wooden surface, “I.. never said it. But, I.. I do like you. The same way you like me.”

“I would certainly..–” Inaho starts to say, stopping himself midway.

It would be better not to tease him right now. He's happy.

“Thank you for saying that,” Inaho amends, gazing at the blush dusting Slaine's cheeks. He leans forward slightly, resting his chin against the wooden top, and gazes up at the blond.

Slaine does not seem to mind, straightening himself so that he can properly gaze back at his new boyfriend. “What are we..–”

“I'm home!!”

The sound of the door opening causes the blond to jump in surprise, and the two teenagers turn their heads to find Yuki walking toward them, in her police uniform. She still has her gun and baton at her belt, and has a grin on her face.

“Welcome home, Yuki-nee.”

“Hello, Yuki..”

Yuki hums at the greetings, and settles herself down on the sofa in front of the two. “I'm here for dinner. I have to return to work in an hour. Do you two want to order takeout?”

Slaine looks to Inaho, still getting used to the two feeding him and not expecting a meal in return.

“That would be nice,” Inaho offers, nodding slightly.

Yuki pulls her belt off and sets it carefully down beside her, both weapons still in their holsters. She then removes her walkie from the belt on her chest, and pulls her cellphone out of the pocket behind it. “What should we get..? Any preferences?”

“Nothing spicy, please,” Slaine says.

“I don't have one. Order what you'd like, Yuki-nee,” Inaho murmurs, turning his head to gaze at her.

She hums softly at that, and starts to dial in a number..

.. “By the way, Slaine and I are dating now.”

[x-men-x-imagines]

Imagine #18 Charles Xavier - Part 2 (Request)

Requested by Anon: hi! so can i request a charles x reader one shot that ive been thinking of? ok so first of all y/n and charles were super close as teens but y/n died at around 19(got mixed up in smth), charles was devastated and hes still not 100% over it as an adult so when the xmen find a mutant who can control time he ends up asking them to go back and try to save y/n? and they try and they have to convince her to stay safe bcs ‘theres some1 who needs her’ or some cute shit like that?..but if u do this thx!

Not my gif

Words: 1552

Warnings: typos, fem!reader, time travel (?)

A/N: This is part 2 out of 3, the last one will probably be up some time next week. Enjoy! xoxo

Part 1 - Part 3

“Y’know, I wonder”, Peter said in a singing voice, skipping down the sidewalk next to a way more serious Jean. “I wonder, why they picked us.”

“Probably, because they know, how much we care about Charles.” “And you do care a lot for him, don’t you?”, Peter teased and shoved his elbow into her side. Jean blushed slightly. “Don’t be absurd, you know that I’m with Scott, you jerk!” “Oh, this isn’t about Scott or no Scott, I don’t know a single person, who doesn’t have a crush on the professor. And I’m not even gay! Or am I?”, he laughed out loud.

“Yeah, sure. So, about the plan.”, Jean interrupted. “We need to find y/n. Raven said, if not on campus, she’d probably be at the library, but I think know that we can get in without any kind of identification. I don’t know, how thrilled they would be, if we showed them two IDs from the future.”

“See, that’s why you have me!”, Peter cheered. “I’ll be in and back out before anyone notices anything. Damn, good thing y/n is a mutant as well, or else she would be in for the shock of a lifetime.” He didn’t sound concerned at all.

In front of an impressively huge stone building, complete with pillars and ornaments, they came to a halt. “Wow! I didn’t even know that was here. Does that exist in the future as well?” Jean shot him a glance from the side. “Maybe you should slow down once in awhile to appreciate things like architecture. It’s all about general knowledge.” “Yeah, but what do I need that for, if I can just look anything up in a split second? It’s not like anyone would ever know!”

“You’re really fidgety today.”, Jean commented. “Yeah I had a coffee.” An expectant silence formed between them, before she added: “So, are you gonna get her?” “Oh, yeah.” And with that, Peter disappeared, only to return moments later and, much to Jean’s dismay, empty-handedly.

“She wasn’t there.” He sounded slightly disappointed. “Are you sure?” “Yes, I’m sure, I checked every room twice. What’d you think, took me so long, huh?” “O-kay. So now what?”

“In hindsight, it probably would have been a good idea for Raven to just give us her address. I mean, we don’t really have the time to search every building in the city, not even you could do that.” “Try me.”, Peter grinned. The sun was going down already, Jean realized nervously, which meant that they only had about a day left, until Sammy would get them back. “Well, given our current success rate, we might actually not have a choice.” “Oh, come on, we’ve only tried the library, the college and two cafés.”

“Whatever. Let’s get some food.”, Jean murmured. It’s not like she had expected this to be easy, mainly because she had never time-travelled before, but also because the professor was usually the one organizing any kind of mission. They probably would have found you by now, if the professor had been involved, Jean thought. She couldn’t help but smile, as Peter opened the diner door for her, greeting her with an exaggerated bow.

There was only one free table and Jean accepted it thankfully. Only seconds later, a waitress appeared, offering them breadsticks and the menu. “So, where else could we look? There are some other cafés and restaurants.”, she started listing her suggestions and trying to pull Peter’s attention away from the menu, only to once again lose it to something seemingly very interesting behind her back. “Peter!”, she hissed, immediately regretting it. She tended to get a little curt when hungry and tired. But Peter simply shot her a meaningful grin before placing his eyes back on the object of his attention.

“I don’t think, we’ll have any difficulties finding her.”, he stated in a tone that seemed almost dreamy, just as Jean turned around and met the eyes of a truly incredible figure at the table by one of the windows. Shimmering, almost glowing white hair ran down your back like a waterfall, your skin just as indefinably beautiful as your whole form. Even sitting down, your figure emitted a most fundamental kind of elegance, as if your body was constantly being touched by the lightest of breezes.

It had to be you, Jean thought. There was no way that Raven couldn’t have been talking about that girl by the window. You were unmistakably beautiful in the strangest, but also most obvious way that Jean had ever seen.

“Wow.”, Peter murmured and Jean couldn’t help but nod. So you were the person Charles still couldn’t forget, even after almost 25 years of being apart. Subconsciously, Jean stretched out her mind, touching yours, trying to… she didn’t even know why. To see, if your mind was just as extraordinary as everything else about you, maybe.

Charles, please! I asked you not to get into my head., a gentle hum wavered through Jean’s mind and she immediately retreated. Only now she noticed the person sitting opposite of you at the table.

“Looking good.”, Peter commented. Jean had to agree. This was a very different kind of Charles, younger, of course, but also… happier? Less settled, less perfect. Less of a professor, more of a young man. Neither Jean nor Peter had ever known him like this.

“Let’s do this.”, Peter interrupted Jean’s thoughts by getting up, aiming for the table by the window. She grabbed his hand. “Peter, no! You can’t talk to her in front of him!” “Why not? He know that she’s a mutant, how couldn’t he?” Peter gestured towards you. “He mustn’t know! It might ruin everything, change everything.”, Jean insisted. Peter furrowed his brows and sat back down. “Isn’t that our job, though?”, he asked. “Aren’t we here to change everything?”

“Yes, but we need to talk to her alone, we don’t know…” Jean was interrupted by the professor und you, standing up and walking towards the diner door whilst continuing a seemingly rather heated discussion. She could only hear snippets of what you said, but you didn’t look happy and the professor’s eyes bore the kind of expression, that they only showed, whenever a student hadn’t done his papers in class for like the thousandth time. “Oh no, this isn’t good.”, Jean murmured, trying to pick up, whatever your discussion was about, without you or Charles noticing her presence again. Conveniently, telepathy turned out to be unnecessary, as your disagreement got even more heated and loud enough for Jean to hear every word.

“You know what I mean.”, Charles said, his voice sounding urgent, like he was desperately trying to convince you of something. “Yes, I know, but I don’t agree. What do you think will happen, if we don’t do anything, Charles? Who is supposed to stand up for us? People don’t change all by themselves!” “And what if you…” “What if I get hurt? As oppose to countless others getting hurt, because we are too scared to fight? I don’t get it, Charles!” And with that, you stormed out of the door, leaving behind a dumbfounded Charles, who was tiredly rubbing his face, and a dining room full of silent, nosy people.

“Is this my queue to run after her?”, Peter asked, shoving a whole breadstick in his mouth before disappearing without waiting for an answer. Jean dropped a few dollars on the table, for their drinks, before running after him, but not without stealing a last glance at the desperate professor. Seeing him like this, with you, and hearing what you had to say, she suddenly realized, how important it was not to fail this mission.

Raven had said, that you could change everything for the mutant community, that it had always been your dream to fight for equal rights and to someday change the fate of all of you. And hearing what you had said to Charles, Jean actually believed her. Yes, in her time, mutants lived out in the open, but what they had still wasn’t anywhere close to equality. To maybe change history, to save you and give you the chance to fight for what was right, for what you believed in… Up to this point, Jean had only wanted to save you because of Charles and because of the fact, that you had been her age, when these men had killed you and that nobody deserved to practically die a child. But this was more and suddenly, Jean thought, as she hasted down the street, following the direction, in which you had disappeared, suddenly, she was so thankful to have this opportunity, to be able to make a difference.

With a sudden gust of wind and a wide grin, Peter reappeared in front of her and made her jump. “Jesus, Peter!”, she cursed, placing on hand on her racing heart. “Where is she?” Jean looked behind him.

“I followed her home. It’s only a few blocks from here, but I thought, it might be weird, if a total stranger just jumped her in the dark, you know?” Jean nodded, though slightly disappointed. “We can just go to her house tomorrow morning. Slightly less creepy, if you ask me.”, Peter grinned. “We should probably find a place to stay for the night.”

[aceprosecuties]

This has taken far too much time to get out, and for that I’m sorry, but here is part eight of my Blackmadhi series ‘The Dawn Will Come’!  This is most likely the second-to-last chapter and introduces Amara into the story!  Thank you for all your patience with me!  5576 words.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

AO3 Link

As promised, Rayfa had ordered the chefs to prepare a banquet for the royal siblings and their guest to celebrate Nahyuta and Simon’s victory in court.  While Nahyuta was still curious about what she and Simon had spoken about during their little outing after the trial, he figured it was something that he could speak with her at a later time about (especially considering that Simon continually refused to speak about the specifics no matter how many times he inquired about them).  For now, though, he was just happy to see that the two of them were apparently getting along…as well as they probably could get along anyway.

After all, when they all congregated for dinner in the main dining hall, Simon was still teasing Rayfa and calling her by the nickname he established for her.  And Rayfa would try and retaliate but would become flustered and would stomp her feet, causing Simon to just laugh and rustle her feathers even more.

But Nahyuta smiled – they liked each other, in their own unique ways.  It was obvious.  Unlike previously, there was no maliciousness in anything they were saying, and he swore that he actually saw Rayfa smile uncharacteristically warmly at Simon when his eyes were placed on something other than her.  

Rather than wait for a servant to do it, Nahyuta pulled out a chair for Simon, and was about to take a seat next to him when he heard a calm voice from the entryway.

“A king offering his guest a seat before himself? That’s unexpected.”

Simon could swear he had yet to see Nahyuta’s head whip around quite that fast before.  When they all looked over towards the unexpected visitor, Simon saw a tall and very lovely woman gracefully walking towards the table.  She had a flower pinned in her long almost-white hair and had markings on her face that slightly resembled Rayfa’s, only hers seemed more elaborate.  

Judging from her appearance and her regal atmosphere Simon believed that she must be-

“Mother,” Nahyuta addressed the woman, rushing over to her and bowing slightly before kissing her hand.  “What are you doing here?  I was told that you wouldn’t be back until this weekend.”  Simon wasn’t really sure what the protocol was in terms of what he should do, so he watched as Rayfa stood up from her seat at the table, and mirrored her actions.

“Well, when I hear through the grapevine that my son has brought a consort back to the palace with him, I had to come see for myself.”  Her eyes traveled from Nahyuta to Simon, and Simon felt more than a bit uncomfortable under her clearly judgmental gaze.  “Is this him?”

“Ah…yes.  Mother, this is Prosecutor Simon Blackquill.”  Nahyuta brought the former queen close enough so that Simon was at arm’s length with her, but he didn’t hold his hand out to shake hers…simply because he wasn’t sure if that would be considered rude at all.  What was the proper procedure for something like this, anyway?  “Simon this is Her Mercifulness Amara Sigatar Khura’in, former queen and…my mother.”

“Your Highness,” Simon greeted with a polite…and very small bow.  He didn’t like the idea of bowing to anyone, but he figured that he probably should try to be cordial with Nahyuta’s mother.  After all, he had no idea what power she still held – she might have been the former queen, but that still had to carry a decent amount of weight amongst at least the guards.    

“Your Mercifulness,” Amara corrected, smiling.  Despite the upward curving of her mouth, Simon could tell that she was not exactly happy – there was something in her eyes that he couldn’t entirely read…she shared that similar aura of mysteriousness with her son.  Perhaps she didn’t like the way he looked – not surprising, as he was not dressed for a royal court and didn’t look even half as elegant as her children.  Or maybe she just was uncomfortable with the idea that Nahyuta brought back a foreign stranger to the palace at all without first getting her approval.

“My mistake,” Simon said, still trying and failing to read her expression.  It was frustrating, and he knew he had to be a bit more delicate with his interactions with her than with her children.  “I hope I didn’t insult you.”

“Not at all,” she said, continuing to smile that unfriendly smile.  Simon hated it.  It reminded him of too many false grins he once believed were true.  “But I am surprised that Nahyuta did not inform you of my proper title prior to this.”  She flashed a look of what Simon could only guess was distaste at her son.

“I didn’t think you two would be meeting, is all, so there was no need.  But, now that you’re here, shall we eat?”  Nahyuta was clearly uncomfortable despite his politeness; his entire body had stiffened and his posture had even straightened slightly, which Simon hadn’t even thought possible before.  

“Yes, I think that is a good idea.”  

Before Amara could sit down, Rayfa ran over to greet her mother; Simon noted that the former queen’s expression transformed into one that was much warmer and more genuine when she looked at her daughter. The two spoke in their native tongue as they went back to the table and took their seats; Simon was careful to not do so before either one of them.  

“So,” Amara broke the silence that had passed over the table as they were served.  “Prosecutor Blackquill, is it?”  Simon nodded, and she continued.  “I should congratulate you for your victory in court today.”

“Thank you.”  Simon’s reply was curt but not necessarily rude.

“Though, from my reports, it was not the smoothest of victories.”

Nahyuta grabbed Simon’s hand under the table, squeezing it tightly.  Deep down, Simon knew that Amara was doing what all mother-hen type parents would do: grill their child’s new partner to make sure that they were an acceptable candidate for their precious baby.  Amara probably didn’t want Nahyuta picking a consort whom she did not feel was worthy of his attention, and…most likely saw practically everybody as exactly that.

Still…he just had this conversation with Rayfa earlier. He didn’t want to have it again.

“No, but Nahyuta and I still defeated our opponent swiftly enough,” Simon said, resisting the urge to grind his teeth together. “The battlefield of the courtroom isn’t always clean and can often be unforgiving, but as long as the truth is revealed, it is never injudicious.”  

“Perhaps you’re right,” Amara mused, taking a bite of food with her eyes closed.  “But would the truth have been revealed if you didn’t have an ally by your side?” She took another bite, and Simon had to focus on breathing deeply in order to keep himself calm.  “It makes me wonder about your competence as a lone prosecutor.”

“Mother!”

Both siblings made the same outburst, which surprised both Amara and Simon.  Neither Nahyuta nor Rayfa looked happy, and Amara seemed confused – she expected Nahyuta to protest, but Rayfa?  Had this foreign prosecutor really wormed his way into both of her children’s hearts already?

Who exactly was he?

“Prosecutor Blackquill and I already had this conversation, Mother,” Rayfa said, coming to Simon’s defense and echoing his internal thoughts exactly.  Nahyuta looked at Simon, still wishing that he had given him some of the details of their encounter outside the city.  “Frankly…he is stronger than you think.”  She was direct with her words, but couldn’t make eye contact with anyone at the table.  “You shouldn’t judge him so harshly…”

“Thank you, Rayfa-hime,” Simon couldn’t help but say. When she glanced up at him, his smile caused her to blush furiously in embarrassment and she immediately began fussily pushing her food around her plate.  

“Well,” Amara sighed after a few terribly uncomfortable moments of silence.  “It seems I have upset both of my children and perhaps owe you an apology, Prosecutor Blackquill, as what occurred clearly involves a…personal matter.”

“…Thank you, Your Mercifulness,” was all Simon could think to say.  

The remainder of dinner was mostly uneventful, with Amara questioning Rayfa about her progress in spirit channeling, and Simon just wanting to retreat with Nahyuta back to the latter’s room so he could escape the gaze of the queen mother.  Despite her apology, Simon knew that she was still suspicious of him, for whatever reason, and he had no desire to stay around her for much longer.

“If I may, Mother,” Nahyuta eventually said when everyone appeared to have finished what was on their plates.  “Prosecutor Blackquill and I are going to retire to my chambers now.”

“You two certainly move quickly, don’t you?  I mean, you’re not even married,” Amara remarked, again flashing a look at Simon; it made him feel like a kid facing down his date’s parent for the first time on prom night.  “Irregular for our rulers…but not our regents, I know.”  She added on that last part when Nahyuta opened his mouth to protest.  “It is just an…interesting observation.”

“Good night, Mother.”

Nahyuta walked out of the room with a certain dignity and class that Simon knew he would never be able to achieve.  Once the two of them were alone in the hallway, Nahyuta groaned loudly, finally expressing his true frustration, and pushed his bangs back from in front of his eyes.  “I’m…sorry about that, Simon.  I never expected her to just…show up.”  Nahyuta loved his mother dearly but also knew how protective she was over him and his sister. If he had been able to speak with her prior to this, maybe he would have been able to alleviate some of her initial instincts to stare down Simon as if he was some fierce enemy coming to snatch her child away.

“She’s certainly…regal,” Simon commented, carefully choosing a word that wasn’t insulting, but also wasn’t really friendly.  He didn’t want Nahyuta to think that he believed that meeting went at all well.  

“Now, are you learning to be political?  That’s unlike you,” Nahyuta observed, with a sly grin forming on his perfect face.  Simon just crossed his arms and stared ahead, pointedly refusing to look at Nahyuta.

“Even I know when and when not to say something.”

“Really?  I never would have guessed.”  

Simon finally turned with a scowl, but the insult he had prepared in his head got stuck in his throat when he looked at Nahyuta. He was laughing, but…it was almost a giggle.  In his eyes was a mischievous innocence…as oxymoronic as that sounded, and his lips were parted in a smile that showed off his perfect white teeth.  

Simon felt his face heat up slightly.  Had he ever encountered someone quite so lovely before?

He already knew the answer to that, so he just turned away with a huff.  

Nahyuta was about to say something else, but they both heard the familiar sound of rings jingling.  It was getting rapidly closer, and the two turned around to see the high priestess running towards them.  

“Your benevolence,” Nahyuta greeted her once she stopped in front of them.  “May I help you with something?”

“Actually,” she said, quickly catching her breath. “I was hoping to speak with you.”

“Of course.  What is it?”

“Um…”  Her eyes went from Nahyuta and then to Simon, and then darted back to Nahyuta again.  “Alone.”

“Rayfa what could-”

“It’s alright, Nahyuta,” Simon interrupted. “Rayfa-hime and I already had our private chat, so I suppose it is your turn.”  He turned to her.  “Try not to keep him too long.”

“I’ll keep him as long as I need to, panda head!”

Despite her protest, Simon smiled.

“You know the way?”

Simon nodded at Nahyuta’s question and left the two siblings to their discussion.

He felt somewhat proud of himself for not having to ask a guard or servant for directions back to Nahyuta’s room.  The bed appeared to be in pristine condition – someone must have come into the room earlier that day and put all the pillows and blankets that he and Nahyuta had dragged onto the floor back into their proper place.  

Simon thought for a moment.  

Instead of re-setting up their floor bed, he sat down on the mattress.

It was plush…definitely fit for a gorgeous king like Nahyuta.  Not so much for an ex-convict like him.  Then again…nothing in this palace was fit for him, was it?  Queen Amara made that quite clear without having to even say it.  It wasn’t a truth he was unacquainted with, really.  His newfound friendship with Rayfa and his…relationship – if one could call it that – with Nahyuta made him feel more welcome, yes, but he was under no delusion that he belonged here.

Nahyuta did though.

Something in his chest hurt when he thought that.  

To keep his mind occupied and off that particular topic, he pulled out his phone and texted Athena.  Despite the time difference, he figured it was late enough in the morning over in Los Angeles that she would be awake.  

Are you still picking me up from the airport?

He stared at the screen as he waited for her to reply, hoping that she wasn’t too busy to respond to him.  Luckily, he wasn’t waiting for very long.

Yeah!  Remind me when you get back again?

The clicking noise of his touchscreen’s keyboard seemed to fill the room.  For some reason, it never really bothered him, and he felt no need to disable it. Plus, it drove some of his coworkers and friends crazy, which meant he had to keep it just to annoy them.

Day after tomorrow.  I’m set to land at around noon.

Time differences meant that he was leaving in the morning and arriving to the states in the morning despite around a fifteen hour flight.  He was not looking forward to that flight for a number of reasons, the greatest of which was that he would have a stranger sitting next to him instead of the person he wanted by his side.  

Great!  You owe me a ton of stories, Simon!  Can’t wait to see you! <3

Simon smiled – it would be bittersweet, leaving Khura’in.  On one hand, he was returning home to Athena and his other friends (…mostly Athena, really). Deep down, he missed her terribly, though he knew she would be relentless in her questions about his trip. And she would inevitably find out about his feelings towards Nahyuta and probably would spend the next few days just teasing him about it, in her own way.

He knew she just wanted him to be happy.  

On the other hand…he was leaving Nahyuta behind. He would return to his home and to his Nahyuta-less nights where he no longer had his presence to comfort him and rouse him from his nightmares.  It would be cold and lonely, and he wouldn’t be able to stare into Nahyuta’s green eyes anymore when he was feeling lost.  No more getting frustrated with how beautiful the regent was at all times…

Simon sighed, and actually leaned back so he was lying down on the bed.  It felt weird on his back, but he ignored it as he stared up at the ceiling.  

He wondered if he would ever be able to return to Khura’in again.  Would it be alright to visit even while not on official business?  Nahyuta had been occupied with him now mostly because they were on the same case; Simon couldn’t imagine that Nahyuta could just give all his time to him in the same way otherwise.  Would Edgeworth ever reach out to Nahyuta to ask him for his help again? The prosecutor’s office was still understaffed…Simon liked the idea of Nahyuta returning to the states and staying in his home…though his apartment was not nearly as impressive as this palace.

But…Nahyuta was the current leader of his country…Edgeworth probably would not be seeking his help anytime soon, knowing how busy he was and how many responsibilities he had to his people and his family.

Simon’s stomach felt uncomfortable and twisted.  

When would he be able to see Nahyuta again after all of this?

Perhaps…it was for the best that this arrangement of theirs was temporary.  After all, how long would Nahyuta want to sleep on the floor next to him and wake him from nightmares that were still centered on a man long dead and on the shadow of the one who impersonated him?  

Even though he was lost in his own thoughts, Simon still clearly heard the opening of the door and the footsteps of a person entering the bedchamber.  He sat up and saw Nahyuta shutting the door behind him; he strode across the room to sit on the foot of the bed.  He began removing his shoes silently.

Something was wrong.

“…Is everything alright?”  Simon asked from his position on the mattress.  He was staring at Nahyuta’s back, but although he could not see his face, Simon could feel that something was bothering Nahyuta, who didn’t seem to even hear his question.  “What did Rayfa-hime want to talk with you about?”  He rephrased and amplified his voice a little bit, hoping that he would be able to prompt some sort of a response.

“Hm?”  Nahyuta finally reacted, but didn’t appear to have processed the inquiry.  “What was that?”

“Rayfa-hime.  What did she want?”

“Oh…um…”  Nahyuta’s voice trailed off, and Simon felt worried at the obvious hesitation. “You’ll find out.”

Well aware that his answer was not exactly what Simon had been looking for, Nahyuta turned a bit so that Simon could see his face. He offered him some semblance of a smile, but Simon knew that something was deeply troubling him.  Why didn’t he want to tell him?  Did he not trust him enough?  Nahyuta knew much of Simon’s own issues…did he not think that Simon could handle knowing his?  

Rather than protest or force Nahyuta into talking, Simon just crawled closer to him.  When he stopped, he gently took hold of Nahyuta’s braid and slowly began undoing it.  Nahyuta’s hair was fine and smooth like silk, and felt soft against Simon’s calloused and rough hands.  Simon’s fingers moved meticulously – he did not wish to tangle any of the luxurious strands.  To do so would surely be some sort of crime.  

Nahyuta hummed and seemed to relax somewhat, but Simon could tell that there was still something at his core that was bothering him. What on earth could Rayfa have spoken to him about to cause him such distress?  

As Simon finished, Nahyuta’s hair sprawled out across the mattress and Simon’s lap, and he brushed it effortlessly with his fingers.  How long they sat like that, Simon wasn’t sure, but he knew they could be there like that for hours and it still would not be enough for him.  

“Shall we set up on the floor again?”  

Simon thought for a moment before answering. “Maybe…we could try staying on the bed. I’m sure the floor hasn’t been all that comfortable for you.”

Nahyuta turned around with a concerned expression.

“But what about-”

“Nahyuta.  You’ve done so much for me already throughout this trip.  The least I could do for you is actually try to sleep somewhere that won’t bother you so much.”

Before Nahyuta could protest again, Simon placed his hand on the back of Nahyuta’s head to pull him in and bring their lips together.  He felt Nahyuta smile against him as they fell back, their limbs becoming entangled as they refused to pull apart from one another.

-----

A familiar scene.

With darkness surrounding him on all sides, Simon finds himself in chains.  However, he isn’t hanging with his arms suspended in the air, which offers some false semblance of freedom as he finds himself able to move around.  The sound of his chain – connected to a metal shackle around his neck – shatters that impression.

Simon wanders, not sure exactly what or whom he is looking for.  He blindly tries to navigate the blackness, but isn’t sure if he is going in circles or if he is actually progressing forward at all.  

Eventually – after an indeterminate amount of time – he sees a figure in the distance, illuminated like some bright star that he is instantly drawn towards.  Simon heads in that direction, and as he gets closer, the figures features become clearer to him.  Lilac hair in a braid, golden boots with white pants…there was no doubt that the mysterious figure was Nahyuta, his back facing Simon.  

Simon tries to call out to him, but finds his voice to be absent; when he opens his mouth, nothing comes out despite how much he feels he is screaming.  

No matter…he continues his approach, and is slightly more than an arm’s length away when he is pulled back roughly.  He stumbles back and almost falls to the ground, but is quickly able to adjust his footing to stabilize himself.  His head whips around to see his unfortunately familiar captor.

The Phantom is – as usual – wearing Fulbright’s face.  He is holding onto the end Simon’s chain with both of his hands, smiling that damn cheerful smile that is full of nothing but lies and deceit.  Simon tries yelling; he tries to scream at the Phantom to release him, but his voice box remains broken and silent.  He looks back at Nahyuta…maybe if he runs to him he can free himself from the fake Fulbright’s grip…

Nope.

He is yanked back again, and this time ends up falling to the floor as the force of the pull chokes him and strains his neck; his head hits the ground with such vigor that he feels dizzy and is surprised that his skull remains intact.  The Phantom laughs at his misfortune, which spurs Simon to try escaping from his hold again.  He crawls to his feet and tries to push forward towards Nahyuta, who was still not facing him.  Even though he knows his voice is not working, he tries once again to call Nahyuta’s name.

He’s pulled back.  More and more and more until Nahyuta seems so far away from him and he feels the false detective’s torso pressed against his back.  Even though he wants to fight, Simon finds all his energy drained away the moment a gloved hand reaches around and gently wraps around his shackled throat.  He can feel the Phantom’s breath in his ear as fingers began to constrict…the metal seems to practically give way as if it were cloth.

And then, suddenly, a second hand reaches for his neck.

Simon looks to the side as much as he can to see a figure with his own face.    

His Fool Bright and his doppelganger actually lace their fingers together in a faux romantic gesture around his throat and begin squeezing.  They tighten their grip more and more until Simon finds it difficult to even gasp for air…

He reaches out towards the figure that he knows is Nahyuta, in some futile gesture that he deep down knows will not cause Nahyuta to turn and see him.

Please.

His mouth forms that one word before his vision goes black.

And he’s immediately woken up to Nahyuta’s face.

“…Sorry.”  His voice is hoarse – he was almost expecting no sound to come out of his mouth when he spoke.  Simon knew that he was sweating – he could feel the dampness on his face and back, and he sat up from the bed with an audible groan.

“How many times must I tell you that apologizing is unnecessary?”  Nahyuta didn’t seem to care about the wet spots that Simon left on his sheets and pillows, and even kissed his forehead.  “You actually made it through the night tonight.”

At that observation, Simon took the time to look around – Nahyuta was right.  According to the clock, it was just before time for the morning prayer, so Nahyuta was probably going to wake him up soon anyway.  

Some progress, apparently.

“I should…probably shower.”  

Nahyuta had apparently woken up much earlier and so was already dressed and ready for the day.  

“Take your time.  I doubt that you would want to rush in order to go to the temple anyway.”

“You already know me so well, Sad Monk.”

Truthfully, Simon was curious about the morning ritual, but – as Nahyuta said – he was in no mood to rush in order to get over there in time.  He was still a bit shaky due to his nightmare, and felt like he needed quite the lengthy shower in order to cleanse himself, both physically and mentally.  If he was being honest with himself, he could swear that he still felt the constricting of hands around his throat, and he was a bit perturbed with the image of his double locking hands with the Phantom in order to choke the life from him.  

Surely, like all of his nightmares, it had a meaning. One that probably was smacking him in the face.  But also one that he felt no desire to decipher at the moment.

Simon spent his long shower just trying to clear his head of the remnants of his nightmare.  It was difficult – he just couldn’t shake the feeling of breathlessness or the image of Nahyuta slipping further and further away from him.  The feeling of hopelessness settling in and eradicating all his energy to fight against his captor…

He growled and punched the wall of the shower in his frustration.

And he stayed in there long enough for Nahyuta to have returned by the time he finally got out.  

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah,” he answered, partially lying.  But, rather than continue to dwell on that, he quickly added: “So, I hope you have something interesting planned for my last day here, Sad Monk.  We actually don’t have work so you better be able to keep me entertained.”

Nahyuta laughed and Simon could swear it sounded like music.

“I’m always prepared, Panda.  I thought you would have learned that very important lesson after our first meeting.”  Yes, Simon remembered all too well when he tried to challenge Nahyuta’s knowledge of rakugo in court and Nahyuta answered him more adequately than he could have possibly imagined.  

“Ever think that I just didn’t want to learn that particular lesson then?  I mean, you were trying to get my favorite soba shop closed down.”

“Correction: I was trying to get a defendant declared guilty.  Your restaurant closing would have just been an…unpleasant side-effect,” Nahyuta said, bringing his hand up as he explained.  “How unfortunate it would have been for you to have to find a new place to spend money.”

“Sarcasm does not suit a king, you know.”

“It’s a good thing I’m a king-regent, then.”

Simon couldn’t help it – he laughed.  Nahyuta always had a good comeback.  “How fortunate for me to have someone of such high status acting as my personal tour guide.”

Nahyuta smiled and grabbed Simon’s hand.  “Let’s go.”

-----

Simon didn’t want to admit that he felt like a love-struck teenager throughout the entire damn day.  

Nahyuta took him around the city, to some of his favorite shops and places.  Most people were happy to see their regent just walking around and would say hello to him nervously or enthusiastically, depending on the individual.  And Nahyuta was friendly with all of them; there appeared to be only love between him and his people, at least from what Simon so casually observed.  And when they were friendly to Nahyuta, they were friendly to Simon, despite how frightening he appeared next to their beautiful royal.  

They would just be walking around and Nahyuta would grab hold of Simon’s hand or his arm and Simon could feel his heart speed up. It was stupid and he thought himself foolish, but he also refused to pull away.  If he pulled away, he knew he would miss Nahyuta’s warmth.

Nahyuta took him to a mountain that he wasn’t allowed to go up due to it being “sacred.”  Secretly, Simon was happy about this development, since it meant he didn’t have to make that tedious climb and he could instead just remain on (relatively) flat land where the air wasn’t so thin.  They passed by some praying monks, who didn’t stop their task as they walked. Simon joked about how they reminded him of the British Royal Guard, and asked Nahyuta if he could mess with them somehow to see if they would crack.

Unsurprisingly, Nahyuta refused.  But the mental image was enough to get him to chuckle, at least, so Simon considered it to be somewhat of a victory.

The day was perfect – sunny but not overly warm, with a nice cool breeze that kept them both comfortable and close to each other. They stayed away from heavy topics for once, talking about more lighthearted things like Nahyuta’s fondness for burgers and the pranks that Simon often played on his fellow coworkers.

Sadly, it all went by so quickly, and before Simon knew it, the sun had begun to set and they were back in the palace’s dining hall.  

Simon was surprised that Rayfa and Queen Amara did not join the two of them for dinner.  While he was relieved to not have to deal with Amara’s pestering and her empty judgmental smiles…he admittedly missed Rayfa a little bit. Now that he thought about it…he hadn’t seen either one of them all day.  

“So, am I going to be able to say goodbye to Rayfa-hime before I leave tomorrow?”  He asked the question after the two of them finished their meal – which took surprisingly long, as Nahyuta was eating almost painstakingly slow for some reason – not wanting to bring up the subject of his departure for fear that it would spoil his appetite.    

“…Right.”  Nahyuta’s face suddenly fell; perhaps he also did not want to think about Simon returning home.  “Actually, she has been preparing something for you,” he said quietly.  “She requested that I take you to her after we finished eating.”

He sighed as he sat up from the table and gestured for Simon to follow him out of the room.  Even his pace was far slower than usual, which made Simon hesitant. “Nahyuta?  Is…everything alright?”

“…I’m not sure.”

Nahyuta refused to elaborate, and just stared ahead as they made their way through the palace.  Eventually they stopped at a closed door, and Nahyuta hesitated in opening it.  “…Simon.” He turned his face so that he was looking into Simon’s eyes, and Simon could see only profound sadness in them. It was as if he was already mourning something or someone that had not yet passed…like he was expecting something to die as soon as he opened that door.  “I know you don’t believe, but I thank the Holy Mother every day for bringing you here. I…only wish for you to find the happiness that you so desperately deserve.”

“Nahyuta.  What’s going on?”

“You’ll see,” Nahyuta said, with a forced smile that only served to break Simon’s heart.  What was happening?  It sounded as though Nahyuta thought that…whatever they had was about to end as soon as he opened that door.  

But he still pushed it open.

The two of them walked in, and Simon took note of how…bare the windowless room was.  No furniture save for an altar on the far side….some mats had been placed on the floor and there was some spiritual Khura’inese décor hanging up on the walls.  There were some candles lit which contributed soft light for illumination.  

Rayfa and Amara were on the opposite end of the room; Amara was standing slightly off to the side, while Rayfa was kneeling in the middle of the floor.  She was dressed in a robe that had to have been at least three sizes too big for her small frame, and her hair was out of its normal looped style and fell elegantly around her slender shoulders.  Simon had so many questions, but he just followed Nahyuta’s silent lead, sitting on one of the mats on the ground.  

Rayfa was mumbling softly to herself; it sounded like she was probably speaking Khura’inese, but Simon couldn’t actually hear what she was saying.  Amara also appeared to be chanting something; neither of them even seemed to have noticed his or Nahyuta’s presence.

It must have been between ten and fifteen minutes that they were sitting there in that semi-silence.  Simon felt itchy and uncomfortable, especially knowing that Nahyuta was unsettled about…whatever this was.  

Finally, he couldn’t help himself – he turned to Nahyuta and whispered.  “Nahyuta, what is going on?”

“Patience, Simon.”

“We’ve been sitting here for a while…what is supposed to be happening?”

“Hush.”

“Nahyuta, what-”

“In justice we trust!”

Simon froze.  

He turned so that he was facing front again, but no longer saw Rayfa.

Instead, where she was sitting, he looked upon the face of a man with brown eyes, a cleft chin, ridiculous eyebrows, and…a bright smile.  Instead of his styled brown hair, Rayfa’s black strands fell behind and in front of his shoulders, and he was wearing the robe that Simon had just seen Rayfa in not moments ago.  

Simon felt like he had just been physically struck, as the air seemed to vacate his body and leave him breathless.

“F…Fool Bright?”

And the detective – the real Bobby Fulbright – smiled.  It was genuine and true and Simon stared as he listened to Fulbright’s voice.  

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Prosecutor Blackquill.”

[lurkingdorkness]

A Fresh Start Chapter 2

Zack couldn’t wipe the goofy grin off his face as he came back from his training session with Cloud. As he let himself into Angeal’s apartment, it was clear his mood was noticed by the older man.

“Well, you look happy. Did something go well today?” Angeal asked as he left the dishes he had been washing.

“Yeah, remember that cadet I told you I was going to train tonight?” At his fellow SOLDIER’s nod, Zack continued, trying not to bounce around like the excited puppy Angeal always claimed he was. “Well, I sparred with him, and he’s really good. He’s so quick he nearly got a few hits on me. He’s going to be amazing once he’s enhanced.”

Angeal chuckled, happy to see his boyfriend in such a good mood. “Are you hoping to mentor him?”

“Maybe, but I’m not sure how much I can help him honestly. He uses Nibel martial arts natively, and I don’t think I’m quite good enough to figure out how to help him use that to his advantage. I did my best in coaching him on how to pass his classes, but getting him past that point might be beyond me right now. I don’t think teaching is one of my talents.” Zack said, shucking off his boots and belts to flop on the couch next to Genesis. The redhead leaned against him as he barely glanced up from his book. Sephiroth was staring at him now, his head having shot up the moment Zack mentioned anything about Nibel.

His former mentor nodded and settled down in one of the chairs. “Well, if you need pointers, I’ll do my best to help you out. I can’t do much without seeing his skills for myself, but I should be able to point you in the right direction.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it. He’s a good kid and I want to help him out.”

Sephiroth finally spoke up, “You said he knew Nibel martial arts?”

Zack nodded. “Yup, he’s from a priest family I think, so he was taught it from birth. Apparently, the priests for different gods all had their own combat styles. Cloud uses the style for the god of war.” He thought over everything Cloud had told him during their match, and hoped he got it right. Cloud wasn’t the most talkative person, to begin with, but it seemed like if you got him onto the right topic, he could turn into a chatterbox.

Sephiroth hummed to himself, “If I have the chance, I’d like to observe a match. I’ve always wanted to see Nibel martial arts in person. Those videos I found were interesting, but they were incomplete from everything I’ve read.”

“I thought you might feel that way given how obsessed you’ve been with Nibelheim since you found that old file confirming that you were there as a child,” Zack stated, teasing him a little.

Sephiroth huffed, “Given that I know little else about my childhood, can you blame me?” He had his arms crossed over his chest defensively, staring at the movie playing on the television.

“Aw, don’t worry babe, I’m just teasing you,” Zack said, standing and giving his boyfriend a peck on the forehead. Sephiroth just huffed louder and ducked his head, clearly trying to hide his embarrassment.

Genesis finally looked up from his book at that. “Sephiroth, you’re acting as if you’ve never dated anyone before. How long have we been together?” The redhead chuckled as he took in the red brightening on the man’s face.

“Since we were teenagers, but Zack is newer. Besides, it’s embarrassing when he does this with others around.” He was still looking away, determined not to let them see him being weak in any way.

Genesis covered his mouth, trying not to laugh, “It’s just us here, you’re dating everyone in this room.”

“It doesn’t matter, it still bothers me.” The curt tone and glower accompanying the remark made the other three flinch, clearly, they had crossed a line.

“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable.” Zack apologized, trying to see if the general was upset enough to refuse a hug. He wasn’t, so Zack hadn’t pushed him too far again. Sephiroth wasn’t very good at telling people to back up. It wasn’t surprising given who had raised him, but it was still something they were working on. At least he felt comfortable enough with them to enforce his boundaries in a way that didn’t involve clamming up and storming off.

“I’m sorry love. I need to watch what I say.” Genesis apologized, reaching over Zack to rest a hand on his.

“You do, but I don’t wish to discuss this anymore. Zack, would I be able to observe a spar with that cadet friend of yours?”

“I’m not sure honestly. He’d be nervous if I told him who exactly was watching. I’m not sure he’d be okay with anyone watching. He’s pretty shy.” Zack frowned, thinking of how reserved his new friend was proving to be.

“Just ask him without giving a name. Perhaps he���d accept Angeal watching as well to give some help.”

Zack shook his head. “I really doubt he’d be okay with that. He looks up to Angeal for sure and he’d get anxious. I’m going to be sparring with him when I have time, I’ll float the idea when I think he’s more comfortable with me.”

“That’s fair, let me know once you’ve discussed it with him.” Zack grinned, and right as he opened his mouth Sephiroth snapped out, “Don’t you dare make some stupid joke about your last name.”

“Fine, no name puns, I get it. That wouldn’t be Fair after all.”

The others groaned, and Sephiroth said nothing, his face blank as he picked Zack up and deposited him outside, shutting the door in his face. “Aw, Seph, isn’t this a bit harsh?” The only response was the lock clicking. “I still have a key you know!”

The door opened to show Sephiroth giving him the most unimpressed glare he could manage. “I will not listen to your terrible attempts at wordplay, Zackary.”

“Ouch, I won’t do it again. Just don’t make me sleep alone. I need my cuddles at night.” Zack pulled out his best puppy eyes.

Sephiroth heaved a heavy sigh and stepped aside to let him back in. The rest of the night was spent discussing their days and plans before they all retired to the big bed Angeal kept so they could all sleep together. Zack had a bit of difficulty falling asleep, thinking over his plans for the next day and getting excited. He had always loved making new friends and he had a good feeling about his new little blond buddy.

Cloud and Zack quickly found a routine for their sparring sessions. If Zack wasn’t on a mission, they met up in the mornings on Saturday and on Wednesday evenings. A few months in and Cloud was improving in leaps and bounds. Zack was really worried that he was getting to the point that he couldn’t help him any further, and if that was the case, then maybe Cloud wouldn’t want to hang out with him. The thought bothered the SOLDIER enough for him to finally address what he had discussed with his partners.

“Hey Cloud, let’s take a breather. I needed to ask you something anyway.”

Cloud froze, breathing picking up and eyes widening as he fiddled with the practice sword he had been using. “Uh, what is it?”

Zack quickly waved his hands, trying to reassure the blond. “It’s nothing bad, I promise!” He couldn’t believe he had forgotten Cloud’s anxiety, given how they had met. “I was just talking with my mentor since I’m worried you’re getting beyond where I can help you. He can help, but he’d need to watch us spar to offer any real advice. My friend who’s into Nibel martial arts also wants to watch if you don’t mind.”

Cloud didn’t look any more relaxed. “Isn’t your mentor Commander Hewley? I really doubt he has time for some little cadet.”

“He was the one who offered, so don’t worry about taking up his time. He can watch from the observation room if you’d prefer.”

“I really don’t want to waste his time. He doesn’t need to deal with weird fans on top of everything else.” Cloud was trying hard not to fidget, just thinking about the strongest men on the Planet made him anxious. They were far too important to deal with him.

“You’re not a weird fan, you’re my friend. I know you won’t get creepy on him, besides, you don’t need to talk to him if you’re not comfortable. If you don’t want to know that they’re there, I can just not tell you.”

Cloud frowned, thinking it over. “Well, fine. I guess that isn’t any different from the training I get in class. Just don’t tell me until after it’s over, or I’m going to embarrass myself.”

Zack beamed, he knew his boyfriends would be pleased to hear the news. “Okay, no problem. It might be a while until they have enough time to watch.”

“That’s fine, gives me time to forget. Now, can we get back to training? I want to work on that parry, I keep stepping out of range and the instructor is getting on my case.”

Zack nodded, and they spent the rest of their evening doing the same parry until Cloud was too tired to lift his sword again. Zack let his partners know and settled down to wait until they were free to watch.

It took a few weeks before both Angeal and Sephiroth had time to observe, and in that time it seemed like Cloud had forgotten about the possibility of watchers. He had been wary for the first week, but eventually, he calmed down. Now that it was finally the day, Zack just hoped he didn’t give away their presence and upset Cloud.

Zack carefully avoided looking at the window as he worked Cloud through their usual routines. He was having a lot of trouble with one movement and was getting frustrated since he kept switching over to his previous training. “Okay, let’s take a break from this. Why don’t we just have a full spar? Just try to beat me, don’t worry about using the style from your classes.” He really hoped that wasn’t suspicious. He just wanted to show off what his little buddy could do.

Cloud thought for a moment, “Sure, maybe a change of pace for a bit will help. I don’t think getting frustrated is helping me at all.” Zack was relieved, he seemed to accept his excuse at face value.

Zack held his practice sword in front of him and watched as Cloud switched his grip on his own sword and sunk into the distinctive stance Zack had learned was the standard for his fighting style. Cloud quickly came in with a low sweep of his blade to his legs. Zack blocked it and was forced to step back when Cloud quickly turned his momentum into an attack at his now unguarded left side. Zack found himself grateful he was enhanced, there was no way he could have matched Cloud’s natural speed when he was still a cadet.

Zack moved in with a lunge, slowing himself down in fear he would hurt his friend. Not that it mattered, since Cloud had sidestepped and came back with a stab. Zack dodged it easily, keeping himself out of the way of each of Cloud’s strikes. He watched the boy get more frustrated with each dodge and block, causing him to try more and more difficult maneuvers to try to even touch the other man. It was times like this that really showed off how different of a blade Cloud usually fought with. He was proficient with the standard broadsword that was taught to the cadets first, but it was obvious his training had been with a shorter blade.

He really hoped that the others were as impressed with Cloud as he was.

Angeal had been watching closely, taking notes on what he saw. The boy certainly had potential, but he was mainly impressed with how seriously his former student was taking his apparent mentorship of the cadet. He wasn’t giving himself enough credit. He was clearly a great teacher and it was obvious he had a great rapport with his student.

Since they were still going over basics, Sephiroth was paying more attention to the paperwork he had brought with him. Genesis, who had invited himself along, was watching, but his focus was obviously on something else. “Is it just me, or does the puppy have a crush on his little bird?”

Angeal sighed, of course, Genesis was focused on that. “I doubt it, you know how he gets when he finds a new friend.”

“He makes friends with everyone, this is different.”

“No it isn’t, you’re just jealous because someone new is taking up his time. I’ve seen him do this plenty of times when he really hits it off with someone. He was the same way with his flower girl, but even you have to admit by now that those two are just friends.”

Genesis huffed, “Fine, you’re right. I’m still convinced that if he hadn’t been with us already, he would be dating her.”

Angeal sighed, and noticing that Zack had finally started the spar, he elbowed Sephiroth to get his attention. “Looks like Zack was right about him being from the Nibel area.” That stance was very similar to the videos Sephiroth had memorized not long after he had happened across an unedited version of his early files in Hojo’s office a few years ago.

Sephiroth snapped his head up from the reports he had been reviewing and focused on the match. His eyes darted, following the fight with an enraptured expression. “He is fast, I just wish he had proper weapons. That style of broadsword isn’t used in the Nibel area, at least not commonly.”

Angeal watched closer, noting points the boy was clearly using moves meant for a different weapon. “You’re right, what sort of weapon do you think he would have used?”

“Well, according to my research, likely a lance or two shorter swords depending on his training. There were other kinds, but the family that uses them is apparently secretive and refused to speak to any of the authors I’ve read. I’d like to ask him about it.”

Genesis snorted, “You’d give him a heart attack, you get intense when it comes to Nibelheim.”

“I’m certain he wouldn’t mind talking to me. I’ll need to convince Zack to introduce us.”

Angeal tuned the others out as he focused back on the match. Cloud was tiring but clearly hadn’t given up yet. He had good stamina as well as speed. Angeal made a mental note to check his files to see what his scores were. It was hard to judge strength from a match with a SOLDIER, not to mention their opinions could bring up areas to improve on that Zack wouldn’t see easily.

The match finally ended after Zack knocked Cloud back and the boy didn’t have the energy to get himself back on his feet before Zack had his sword at his throat. He watched as his boyfriend helped the boy to his feet and sent him on his way with a promise to see him again the next Saturday. As soon as the cadet had stumbled off towards his barracks, Zack came through the door to the observation room they were in, looking hopeful. “So, what do you guys think?”

Angeal thought for a moment, “He certainly has promise, but he needs to work on his patience. He also lets his temper get the better of him, and that could get him killed.”

Zack sighed, face dropping. “I know, he’s getting better at least. What about his sword work? That’s what I’m really worried about since that’s where I feel like I’m just not helping him enough.”

Angeal rested a hand on his shoulder, “Relax, you’re a better teacher than you think you are. I’ll think about what might help him. Perhaps Sephiroth has some ideas?” He looked over at his other boyfriend, knowing that he likely had plenty.

“Yes, but I’d really like to see if I couldn’t help him more directly. That would likely be easier for everyone. I’d like to ask him a few questions to clarify his skills.”

Zack frowned immediately, “I don’t think he’ll go for that. I can try asking, but I can’t promise anything.”

“Please try, I doubt I’ll ever get a chance to ask someone with his knowledge, given what the books say about how Nibelheimers feel about outsiders.”

“Fine, but I doubt he’d do well in a one-on-one situation. It would need to be something with a lot less pressure than that. I mean, I do want you guys to get to know him since he’s my friend, but I don’t want to scare him.”

Angeal thought for a moment, “What about movie night? It’s low pressure, and he doesn’t need to talk if he doesn’t want to.”

Genesis instantly piped up, “No, that’s our night. I don’t want to share it with your latest crush Zack.”

“Hey, I don’t have a crush on him! He’s just my buddy. I just hang out with him so much because we have similar interests, not because I want him or anything. Seriously, you do this every time I make a good friend.”

“Right, I believe you,” Genesis said, rolling his eyes.

“Look, I know you two would get along if you gave him a chance. Just one movie night, that’s all I’m asking for. Oh, and that’s figuring he even agrees to meet you.”

“Fine, but only because I love you. I don’t promise to be nice either.”

“I love you too, just don’t be a dick to him for no good reason. He doesn’t deserve that kind of treatment.” Zack scolded.

“Fine, now can we focus on something else?”

“You know, you weren’t even supposed to be here, so I don’t know why you’re copping attitude.”

Angeal kneaded his forehead as he listened to his boyfriends bicker like children and hoped that this movie night wasn’t an unmitigated disaster.