#did edit it the shading is still rather off but its pretty fine actually was just being all down that day

[cent-scratchnsniff]

sanguine desire

[minty-mumbles]

To Honor, In Ink

Summary: While the chain is staying in the Karakara Bazaar, Wild heads off to Gerudo town for the day. He comes back sporting a new tattoo.

Author's Note: This was inspired by some people talking about the boys getting tattoos, specifically @gaylactic-fire. Really, only the second half of this is about tattoos... oh well

Read on AO3 Here

EDIT: You can see Wild’s Tattoo Here

EDIT 2: @bunnyambushed drew Wild's tattoo as well! Check it out here

~~~

The group had stumbled in the KaraKara Bazaar late last night. So late that it had nearly been morning. The entire group was exhausted. They had come across a particularly vicious pack of infected Keese a few hours before they arrived, and it hadn’t turned out well for them.

Keese, even the infected ones, weren't that difficult to take down. Unfortunately, there had been a lot of them. The swarm had been at least a hundred strong, and the old verbiage that there was strength in numbers had some truth to it. Especially when there were a couple bokoblins hidden in the swarm you didn't know about.

Sky had ended up with an arrow in his arm, courtesy of those same bokoblins. The rest of the group had been quick to take them down, and at that point, Time had given Warriors permission to use the fire rod that Legend had lent him. That had taken care of the keese nicely. Legend had to wonder why they hadn’t just done that in the first place.

He groaned, pushing himself up from his comfortable bed. Wild had taken one glance back at the exhausted group yesterday, and silently slid the extra rupees across the counter to pay for the extra soft beds. Usually, there would have been an argument about one of their own spending extra rupees on the others unnecessarily, but they were all too exhausted to care. Wind had already fallen asleep on Warriors back. Hyrule had been swaying side to side, and Sky was only staying upright because Twilight was supporting him.

No one had protested the thought of even more comfortable beds.

Legend had to admit, the extra soft beds did wonders. That had been perhaps one of the most satisfying nights of sleep he’s had since they had been at his own house in his own Hyrule. He had been sharing the bed with Four last night, which he had internally rejoiced at. Many of the others had a tendency to take up more than their share of the bed space. Four was the opposite, liking to curl into a little ball to sleep.

The small hero was already gone from the bed when Legend woke. In fact, most of the group was already gone from their beds. The only ones still in bed were Twilight, and Sky, who was awake and propped up in bed, reading a book. He’d likely been confined to bed rest by Hyrule, at least for the mourning.

They had managed to heal the worst of Sky’s injury, but it wasn’t perfect, and he would need extra rest to be up to traveling again.

Legend suspected that they would be staying in the Bazaar for a few days. Not that he was complaining. These beds were damn comfortable.

He stood, nodding at Sky as he put his outer tunic and boots back on. Clasping his belt around his waist, he stepped out into the morning sun.

The sun couldn’t have been up for an hour yet, but Legend could tell it was already shaping up to be a scorching hot day. As they were in the desert, that was to be expected. Legend predicted that most of them would be shedding their outer layers before noon.

He could see Four and Time over by some merchant stands that were set up in the shade of the tree. Four looked like he was haggling over some fruit, while Time was chatting with some other customers.

Wind was already in the water, swimming around like a dolphin in the shallow pool in the middle of the Bazaar. Warriors were nearby, keeping an eye on him, dipping his feet in the pool as well.

Legend looked around curiously, not spotting either the cook or the traveler anywhere. He swallowed the reflexive panic that rose in his throat. The champion could be reckless sometimes, but even he was not blasé enough to say someplace was safe when it wasn’t, and he had assured them last night that no one needed to stay awake to keep watch.

Anyways, none of the others were panicking at all, so it was probably fine.

And now that he was paying attention, Legend could hear Hyrule’s voice coming from around the corner of the building. As he rounded the corner to investigate, he found not only Hyrule, but also Wild, and a man wearing a frankly astoundingly large pack.

Hyrule was bartering with the man over what sounded to be the price of some bugs. Legend recalled that Wild had pointed this kind of bugs out to the group, and called them Cold Darners. Apparently, they were very useful in the making of heat-resistance potions.

Legend knew he was usually one of the only ones of the group that paid attention when Wild spouted off random bug facts. Not that the others were trying to be offensive, and Wild never seemed disappointed when no one but Legend was listening to his lecture about different types of fish or flowers

Legend figured that the information just went in one ear and out the other for the rest of the group. He, on the other hand, paid strict attention when Wild spoke about the natural flora and fauna of his Hyrule.

These portals were unreliable, and if Legend ever got stranded in Wild’s Hyrule without the champion, he wanted to be prepared. This was the kind of information that you wanted to absorb when you could. He knew from experience that he might end up thanking himself for it later.

Apparently, Hyrule had also been listening to what Wild had been saying yesterday, because he was now forking over enough rupees to buy enough of the bugs to make heat-resistance potions for all of them. Legend was impressed by his forethought. Legend himself probably wouldn’t have thought of potions until he himself was already halfway to sunburned.

As the merchant wandered away, Hyrule offered the bugs for Wild to store in his slate until they were ready to make the potions.

Wild waved him off, and the three started moving back to where the rest of the group, including a groggy-eyed Twilight, was gathered around the pool. “I actually have some things to do in town today. I have a few things I need to get, and I have an appointment I need to make. I had thought I would need to reschedule due to all the, well...” Here he gestured vaguely to the group, and the rest of them hummed in understanding. ”But, ehh, we're here, so might as well go…”

He trailed off, pulling out his slate, considering its contents. After a moment, he shrugged off his thoughts. “Anyways, you’ll want to keep a hold of those things yourself, Hyrule.”

Time spoke up from where he and Twilight had joined Warriors in dipping their feet in the pool. Twilight and Warriors had already shed their outer layers to try and combat the heat, and Time apparently hadn’t even bothered to put on his armor at all. “Do they have a leader you could ask about any sighting of black blooded monsters? You might as well ask while you’re there.”

Wild nodded, a smile overcoming his face. “Yeah! I’m on pretty good terms with the Chieftess, Riju. We go sand seal racing sometimes.”

“Well,” Time began, “take one of the others, and ask her, and then do what you need to after.”

“Ahh,” Wild winced. “I’m probably going to take a while, and you guys won’t be able to get in, remember? Women only.”

“So how do you get in?” Warriors asked, brow quirked.

Wild snorted at that. “You’ve already gotten a hint, though. It shouldn’t be that hard for eight heroes of courage to figure it out, should it?”

“Hold on,” Warriors protested, ��since when have we gotten a hint?”

That actually got a laugh out of Wild. “You’ve held what I’ve used in your hands before, Wars. Figure it out.”

With that, he tapped on his slate, dissipating in strands of blue light before Warriors could protest.

~~~

Wild was gone for most of the rest of the day. Hyrule sat down shortly after he departed, and made the heat-resistance potions, which everyone had been thankful for.

Legend had been right in thinking it would be a hot day. The Gerudo scattered around the plaza seemed unaffected, but all the Hylians were sweating buckets. By mid-day, everyone had shed their outer tunics. Those of them who were able to tan, and didn’t burn after an hour in the sun even took off their under-tunics to try and cool off that little bit more. Legend himself would rather not look like a cooked lobster, so he had kept his tunic on.

Many of the younger heroes joined Wind in the pool, as well as Twilight. (Legend sighed internally when he saw that, and braced himself for the inn to smell like wet dog that night.)

Wild was gone for both lunch and supper, and the only one who had been willing to cook was Hyrule, they had bought some fruit and pre-cooked meat from the stands, and made a meal out of that.

It had been decent, but not as good as what they had seen the champion cook before. Legend had particularly enjoyed the bananas, but when he went back to buy a few more, the seller had glared at him suspiciously. Eyeing the way she was fingering her blade, Legend decided to go with another slice of hydromelon instead. The seller calmed down after that.

Warriors sat around for a good hour or two, trying to figure out how exactly the champion was getting into town. Legend didn’t really care one way or the other, but the puzzle of what he was using to get into town was good, and Legend couldn’t resist a good puzzle. He had run through all the weapons he had seen Wild use, and the items he had in that slate of his but he couldn’t come up with anything. The paraglider, maybe, but Legend didn’t think Warriors had ever held that. Warriors wasn’t able to think of anything either, by his dejected expression.

After the worst heat of the day was over, Warriors convinced Wind and Hyrule to come try sneaking into town with him. Legend tagged along, eager to see what shenanigans the three would get into. The look Time sent him told Legend that he would also be bailing them out of jail if they got in any trouble.

They didn’t have any luck, and were back at the bazaar in time for dinner, Legend’s wallet thankfully as full as it had been when they left.

~~~

Wild only showed up after dinner was over. The sun had already set when he finally made it back. Legend wondered what had taken him so long. He had mentioned an appointment, but hadn’t specified, so the group was left in the dark.

Wild strolled leisurely into camp, and plopped himself down at their fire. Legend could see, even in the dark, that he had switched out of his normal clothing into something that looked much more appropriate for the heat, if a little revealing. He barely wore anything except a pair of pants and a pauldron on his shoulder.

“You took a long time,” Twilight noted, “run into any trouble?”

“Nah,” Wild shook his head, then changed the subject. “I didn’t see any of you in town. Couldn’t figure it out?” He shot a smirk at Warriors, who had to shake his head in defeat.

“He tried sneaking over the walls plenty of times,” Legend supplied, smirking. “They eventually placed a guard on him, so he had to give up.”

Wild gave a grin at the mental image of Warriors sulking while under the strict gaze of one of the gate guards. “I could have told you that. I can’t tell you the number of times I got thrown back over the wall before I figured it out.” Legend could have told Warriors that too. He had, in fact, but the captain had seemingly taken that as a challenge. Legend hadn’t minded, as it was amusing to watch.

Eventually, he had gotten bored, though, and had struck up a conversation with the guards, hoping to wrangle some information out of them. Unfortunately, the guards did not; have anything to tell him. They had just insisted that there were no exceptions to the rule, not even the Hero of Hyrule. They insisted that they hadn’t even seen the man in a few weeks.

When he told Wild this, he unexpectedly chuckled, waving him off. “Yeah, they would say that, wouldn't they? They definitely saw me, they just wouldn’t have told you. Besides, where else could I have gotten this done? The artist there is the best one I know.” He stood, turning to display his bare back, and the fresh tattoo that was inked there.

Wind was the first up, nearly bouncing in excitement. “Wow! Did it hurt?”

Wild laughed “Yeah, getting a tattoo hurts. Thankfully I don't have any scars where it’s placed, so it was easier for the artist, and less painful for me.”

The rest of the group slowly gathered around to admire the design. It was placed along the upper half of his spine, between his shoulder blades. It was relatively simple, as it would have to be to get it done in one day. Four colored spheres in a neat row, with an animal within each one. The top one was blue, with an elephant. Then there was a red one with a lizard, a green one with a bird, and the last yellow with a camel. Vines with blue flowers that Legend had heard Wild call Silent Princesses wrapped around the outside of the design. It was simple but elegant.

“I got it in memory of the champions,” Wild explained unnecessarily. They all knew the tale of the other champions and their divine beasts. The symbolism was obvious. “The flowers are Zelda’s favorite, but they're also, uh, common symbols of mourning....” Here, he trailed off, looking like he was lost in memories. Legend cringed.

Ugh, feelings.

Now Wild was upset. Legend never knew how to fix these types of situations, but as the silence dragged on with none of the others saying anything, Legend drew himself up to interject. None of the Links were particularly good with words, or subtle, and even those who were the best with words, like Warriors or Twilight, could stick their foot in their mouth easily.

This meant that they, more often than not, choose to leave the talking to someone else. Unfortunately, there was no one else this time, and one of them would need to break the awkward silence that was no doubt only making the champion feel worse.

“Wow!” Wind, bless his good timing, chimed in before anyone could say anything. “It looks so cool! I want a tattoo too. Granny said I could get on when I turned sixteen, but she wouldn’t know. Will you take me? Please!”

Wild, thankfully looking less uncomfortable, smiled at the sailor. “I don’t think that you’d have the time. I talked to the chieftess while I was there, and got some information about increased Yiga attacks. As long as Sky is feeling better, we’ll probably leave tomorrow.” When Wind sighed in disappointment, Wild pointed out “And besides, you weren't able to make it into the town anyway, and the tattoo artist doesn't do out-of-town appointments.”

“Oh, right…” Wind trailed off, obviously thinking of other places he could possibly fulfill his goal of getting ink injected into his skin.

Personally, Legend could see the appeal in getting inked. Wild’s designs were beautiful, and had significant meaning to him. Legend thought he might not mind having a small hibiscus flower tattooed somewhere.

However, he couldn’t imagine why anyone would willingly put themselves through the pain of getting a small needle jammed into them hundreds of times. It seemed like an unnecessary pain to go through, and Legend wasn’t one to intentionally put himself in pain.

When he said such out loud, Warriors laughed. “What, are you too tender-skinned for that?”

Legend scoffed. “Well, I don’t see you with any tattoos either, pretty boy.”

“I do have some,” Warriors smirked. “Just not where you can see. Army regulations.” He stood, stripping off his tunic. Across his chest, detailed in a bright gold that glimmered in the firelight, was the crest of Hyrule. On his back was a depiction of the master sword in black and white along his spine.

“That\’s impressive work,” Sky hummed. “Not many people get tattoos in Skyloft. The rocks we need to make the ink with are rare, so people don’t usually bother. Only a couple of people actually know how to tattoo.”

“That makes sense,” Warriors said, shrugging his shirt back on. “I guess rocks are hard to come by on a floating island. They're a finite resource.”

Wild nodded. “The tattoo artist I went to requires you to bring the materials that she needs with you. She‘s good enough that people come from all over to get tattooed there, and she can demand you bring your own materials. Mostly a lot of charcoal, but also some plants and other kinds of rocks to make the ink colored.”

Hyrule piped up from where he was sitting. “Do you have any, Sky? Being a chosen hero of Hylia seems like it would be special enough to warrant a tattoo.”

Sky nodded, but didn’t elaborate, and the rest of them left it be. When someone in the group didn’t choose to elaborate on something, the rest of them knew better than to push them. They had learned that lesson the hard way. Even something as innocent as a tattoo could have bad memories attached to it for the heroes.

“What about you two?” Wind questioned, gesturing towards Twilight and Time. “You guys both have tattoos, obviously.”

Time replied with a completely straight face, staring at Wind. “These aren't tattoos. They’re scars, a gift from a demon I… encountered.” He said it with such a blank face that Legend could see even Twilight couldn't tell if he was being serious.

“Ah.” Wind said, squinting at the old man suspiciously, before he seemingly decided that it wasn't worth asking more questions. He turned to Twilight. “What about you? Your tattoos actually kind of look like the markings on Wolfie. He’s your pet, right? Did you get them in honor of him?”

Legend couldn’t help but snicker as he watched Twilight trying to sputter out an answer to that.

Four took pity on Twilight, and started to show off his own tattoos to change the topic of conversation- a cluster of four swords surrounding his right forearm. Each had a different color gemstone in its hilt, Green, Blue, Purple, and Red.

As the conversation moved on, visions of small hibiscus tattoos floated in the back of his mind. Maybe getting one wouldn’t be so bad, in an inconspicuous place.

Putting yourself in pain on purpose did sound stupid. But Legend had done a lot of stupid things in the past. Getting a tattoo in memory of someone, to honor them, didn’t sound like it would even begin to stack up against the other idiotic things he’s done.

And besides, he’d been in plenty of pain before. He was sure he could handle a needle, right?

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers GRAND EDITION for Switch ;; More, Blood ー Kou [After Story]

ー The scene starts outside by the lake

Kou: Oooi, Yui! This way!

Yui: Ah, yeah! I’ll be right there!

Kou: This lake is so pretty! The water is crystal clear!

*Splash*

Kou: Also, look! The sky is reflected on the water’s surface, dyeing it a beautiful blue color!

I can take a picture while we’re here, right?

*Snap*

Yui: ...Fufu.

Kou: Whaaat? Why are you laughing? Did I do something?

Yui: No, that’s not it. I didn’t mean it like that...

Seeing you have such a good time is making me happy as well.

Kou: Oh, that’s it? Of course I’m happy!

After all, there’s such a beautiful blue sky spread out right in front of me!

Yui: ( He’s right...I’m underneath such a pretty clear sky together with Kou-kun... )

( I feel blessed too. ) 

Kou: Say, Yui. Let’s look at the photos in the shade of the trees over there.

Our collection has grown quite a bit already.

Yui: Yeah!

ー They walk towards the shade

Kou: Let’s see...

Yui: Wah! So pretty...

Kou: These...If I recall correctly, we took them in the country we stayed at up till recently, right?

There’s not a single cloud in sight, it really just screams ‘the blue sky’!

Yui: Ah, this is a picture of the sunset.

We took it right as the sun was setting, so the blue and orange hues are mixing together, it really is beautiful.

Kou: You’re right.

I still like the blue sky the very best, but I’m quite fond of this sunset as well.

Yui: Really?

Kou: Yeah. It feels like the boundary between day and night, giving off a mystical vibe.

Yui: Mystical...

Kou: Ah. You just made fun of me a little, didn’t you?

Yui: I-I didn’t!

Kou: I wonder~? What you’re thinking always shows right away on your face, you know.

Yui: I swear I didn’t...! I was just wondering what exactly a ‘mystical’ vibe is like...

Kou: Whatever~ 

Yui: Geez...Hm?

Kou: Ah.

Yui: I-Is this...a photo of me!?

( I’m asleep...Which means... )

...You took this in secret?

Kou: Ahーah, I’m busted, huh?

Yui: Come on! Kou-kun! Taking pictures of me in secret is so mean!

Kou: Sorry, sorry~ But your sleeping face was just too cute, you know...

...Say? Forgive me? ...Nn.

*Smooch*

Yui: Nn...

...Guess I have no other choice.

Kou: Ehehe. Thank you!

Since you’ve forgiven me...Ey!

ー He lays his head on her lap

Kou: A lap pillow...You don’t mind, right?

Yui: ...It’s embarrassing.

Kou: Who cares? We’re the only two people here anyway. Right?

Yui: Y-Yeah...

Kou: Ah, but you make the cutest expressions when embarrassed, so can I take a picture?

Yui: N-No way!

Kou: Eeh~ That’s a shame.

Yui: ( Geez...Kou-kun... )

( But...Right now, he seems very precious like this... )

Kou: Ah, look at this picture.

Yui: Which one?

Kou: This one. I wanted to take a picture of the starry sky, but it wouldn’t show up very well...

I guess this old camera we got just doesn’t cut it?

Yui: You got this one from a cameraman you knew through your job, right?

Kou: Exactly. When he gave it to me, I never thought I would actually use it one day.

But right now, it has really proven its worth.

After all...There’s tons of skies inside this roll of film.

Yui: Yeah...You’re right.

ー Yui looks up at the sky

Yui: ( Ever since we left Kaminashi City... )

( We’ve been traveling around the world. )

( Visiting various places, experiencing different emotions (1)... )

( And every time we look up at the sky, Kou-kun will happily press the shutter of this camera. )

Kou: ...Why have you suddenly gone quiet?

Yui: No, it’s nothing.

Kou: Really? Okay then.

Being able to spend time together with you under the blue skies...

And resting my head in your lap like this really puts me in the best mood.

Yui: K-Kou-kun...

( Hearing him point it out again made me embarrassed. )

Kou: ...That just leavesーー There we go. 

*Rustle*

Say, Yui. I’m a little thirsty...

Yui: Eh!? ...Ah, yeah...

W-Will this work...?

Kou: Yeah...Perfect.

I honestly never thought a day would come on which you willingly offer yourself like that.

Yui: That’s...I mean, right now I really have no reason to push you away...

Kou: ...!

...Geez...Don’t come complaining to me later after stirring me on like that.

Yui: Eh? Did I say something?

Kou: Not reallyー...!

*Rustle*

*Thud*

Yui: Kyah...!?

*Rustle*

Kou: ...Thanks for the meal~

ー Kou bites her

Kou: ...Nn...Nn...

...Nn...Haah...Your blood really is so delicious...

Yui: ...

( How strange... )

( I could have never imagined this when Kou-kun sucked my blood for the first time... )

( But right now...I think I want Kou-kun just as badly... )

( I feel at ease...Just by having him by my side ) 

Kou: ...Nn...Hah...You’re kind of out of it today.

Yui: Eh!?

Kou: Make sure to fix your attention on me (2)...Nn. 

Yui: ...!? Ow...Kou-kun! You bit me on purpose just now, didn’t you!?

Kou: You’re at fault for spacing out. That proves you had something on your mind, right?

Yui: Well...

Kou: See, I got it right! ...I’ll make it so you can’t think of anything or anyone but me.

...Nn...Haah...Nn...

Yui: Ah...

Kou: ...Nn...You’re so cute...Yui...

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the town

Kou: Today was so much fun.

Yui: Y-Yeah...

( Personally I found it rather embarrassing though... )

Kou: Huh? Your face is red, you know? Could it be...You’re recalling what happened earlier?

Yui: ...!

Kou: Bull’s eye, huh? You really are so cute.

Yui: O-Oh come on! Stop teasing me...!

Kou: Fufu...

Yui: ( Uu...How embarrassing... )

Kou: Hey, Yui.

Yui: Y-Yes?

Kou: There’s actually one more request I’d like to make while you’re embarrassed anyway.

Yui: A request...?

Kou: Let’s hold hands.

Come on, you don’t mind, do you?

Yui: Ah...

Kou: There’s nobody who would recognize me here.

Yui: Yeah...You’re right.

Kou: Hooray!

Yui: ( Kou-kun seems happy...When he’s happy, so am I. )

Kou: ...Hm?

Hey, Yui! Look at the display over there!

Yui: Eh...?

Something on the public TV screen (3) caught your eyーー Ah!

( Kou-kun’s on TV...!? )

Kou: I wonder what they’re saying about me?

Yui: U...Uhm...

( I did learn this country’s language a little but...Hm... )

...The Japanese idol...Mukami Kou...has gone missing? ...I think.

Kou: Heeh...They’d actually report it all the way over here as well.

Yui: ( Right... )

( To Kou-kun’s fans, it must seem as if he has suddenly vanished off the surface of the earth... )

Kou: ...

Yui: ...

( I’m sure the people who liked him must be extremely sad... )

( ...I wonder if we did the right thing...? )

Uhm...Kou-kun?

Kou: ーー I don’t have any regrets.

Yui: Eh...?

Kou: I bet you were thinking if we did the right thing while looking at the screen, weren’t you?

Yui: Uu...

Kou: You’re such a fool.

Yui: A-A fool...?

Kou: You said that you’d prioritize me over anything and follow me.

I feel the same way.

I left everything behind too. ...Except for you, Yui.

Yui: Kou-kun...

Kou: Well, there’s of course times where I wonder how Ruki-kun and the others are faring...

However, I will no longer hesitate. As long as you are with me, I won’t have any regrets either.

So...Don’t worry.

...Okay?

Yui: Kou-kun...

You’re right. I don’t regret my decision either.

Kou: Mmh! Let’s head home then?

Yui: ...Yeah!

( Together with Kou-kun, we can overcome any hurdle )

( I strongly felt so the second we leaped into the air together. )

*TIMESKIP*

Kou: Are we done shopping now?

Yui: I think we got everything we needed, so it should be fi...Ah!

Kou: What’s wrong? You forgot something?

Yui: I forgot to buy pasta...

Kou: Ehー! But we actually got our hands on some clams! But we can’t make vongole bianco without pasta!

Yui: Sorry! I’ll quickly go back!

You wait here, okay?

Kou: You’ll be fine by yourself?

Yui: Yeah. It’s right there.

Kou: Okayー Come back soon, okay?

Yui: Mmh. I’ll get going then.

ー Yui runs off

*TIMESKIP*

Yui: Phew. I successfully bought the pasta.

( Thank god I remembered before we got home... )

( Kou-kun’s waiting for me, right? I better hurry ba...Hm? )

Did this store always look like this...?

( Re-opening...It got a complete overhaul and became a jewelry store. )

( They’ve got a bunch of cute accesories out on display... )

( Ah... )

( This ring is so pretty...! )

( The blue is almost likeーー )

???: Hmm~ So this is the kind of stuff you like?

Yui: Eh!?

Kou-kun!

Kou: Geez~ I came looking for you because I was worried you were taking such a long time.

Yui: Ah, my bad!

Kou: It’s fine, really. Something caught your eye, right?

However, I didn’t expect to find you glued to the display window of a jewelry store~

I guess you’re finally reaching that age (4) as well, huh~? 

Yui: T-That’s not it...It just happened to catch my attention...

Kou: This ring? 

Yui: Yeah...Look at this blue gemstone inserted in it...

I thought it looked a lot like the color of the sky we saw together yesterday.

Kou: Yeah, you do have a point. It’s a clear, beautiful cerulean hue.

Yui: Right? It’s super pretty, so I was captivated by it...

Kou: Hm...

Ah! Your birthday is coming up soon, isn’t it?

Shall I buy it for you?

Yui: Eh?

I-It’s fine!

Kou: Eh~? Why?

Yui: We...should be careful with our spendings for now.

( We decided to choose where we’d settle after visiting various places. )

( So right now, we are living off the money Kou-kun had saved up through his job. )

Kou: Are you sure? I’ve got plenty of savings, you know?

Yui: That might be the case but...

I mean, that ring is really expensive, right?

Kou: Hmm, it is but I’d say this is a normal price for a ring?

Yui: Still, right now we shouldn’t.

Kou: So you basically don’t want a present from me?

Yui: T-That’s not true...! I’d be happy with anything you’d give me. But...

I’m still in no position to receive such a wonderful ring...

How to put it, I want to have grown to the point of feeling worthy before you gift it to me...

Kou: Hmm...?

Well, I figured you’d say something like that though.

Yui: I’m sorry for stopping by here.

Well, let’s head home then.

Kou: Yeah...

...

But, I still...

*Snap*

Yui: Kou-kun, what are you doing? You might get yelled at for taking pictures!

Kou: Ehー? Really? But it’s so pretty, you want to preserve a memory of it, no?

This makes for a proper blue sky as well after all!

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to their home

Yui: Dinner’s ready!

Kou: Uwaah, it smells incredible! The pasta you make really is the very best, Yui!

Yui: Fufu, you still haven’t tried it, right? You might be even more impressed once you have a taste!

Kou: Oh!? Someone’s brimming with confidence, huh?

Yui: Today’s dish turned out extremely well.

So I’m sure you’ll like it as well.

Kou: Really? Let’s hurry up and eat then! Thanks for the meal!

Yui: Thanks for the meal.

Kou: Nn...Nom, nom...Yeah, it’s good!

Yui: Really!?

Kou: Yeah!  No wonder you were so confident in it!

Yui: The clams were being highly recommended at the market today after all.

This has to be the dish I’m the most proud of so far...!

Kou: The taste might be the best amongst all the plates you’ve made as well!

Yui: Fufu, I’m glad.

Kou: Well, I’ll happily dig into any dish you make though.

Mm~ All done!

Yui: Eh? You’re already done?

Kou: Yeah, so...Seconds, please!

Yui: Fufu. I made sure to prepare lots for you, so one second please.

Kou: Hooray! I can probably go for two more plates!

Yui: Hang on tight, okay?

Kou: Roger!

*TIMESKIP*

Kou: Thanks for the meal~

Yui: Thanks for the meal.

Kou: Ah, I’ll handle the clean-up.

Yui: You sure?

Kou: You made me such delicious vongole bianco after all.

Let me do this much, okay?

Yui: Thanks, Kou-kun. I’ll be counting on you then, okay?

Kou: Yeah, leave it to me! ...Ah, you know, Yui.

Yui: Hm?

Kou: You really did like the ring we spotted today, no?

Yui: Hmm, I did think it was lovely. It was such a beautiful blue color after all.

However, I...

Kou: Okay, okay, stop! I know. You don’t want it (5), right?

Yui: Yeah...I don’t want anything.

I mean, I’m already so happy just to be living together with you like this.

Kou: I feel the same way.

I really am glad you’re here with me.

Say, let’s continue living happily together from here on out, okay...?

Yui: Yeah...!

ー The scene shifts to the bedroom

Kou: M-neko-chan said there’s nothing she wants but...

I still want to do something for her...

...Besides, a ring holds a special meaning...

Okay, I’ve made up my mind...!

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the living room

Yui: ( ...Hm, I just need to check the seasoning of the soup and then it’ll be ready, I suppose? )

Kou-kun! Dinner will be served soon!

...Huh? No response...

( Lately he’s been cooped up in our room quite often. )

( He never quite did that in the past, so I wonder what has gotten into him? )

ー The scene shifts to the bedroom

*Cling cling*

Kou: Geez, I never thought things would end up like this...

Ahー I can’t do it...!

*Cling*

Kou: It has improved a bit compared to my first attempts, but it’s still no good.

They said even a beginner should be able to pull it off, but this isn’t my cup of tea...

Ever since I was young, Ruki-kun has been telling me that I’m too careless of a worker...

*Cling*

Kou: But...I have to...bring this to a good end so...

Oh? It’s actually looking decent? Maybe I got the hang of it?

Okay then! Gotta keep going like this!

I told myself I wouldn’t give up, so better give it my all!

Besides, I’ll definitely finish it in time...!

*Cling*

*TIMESKIP*

Yui: ( ...Kou-kun’s late... )

( Lately he’s been leaving the house on a whim more often. )

( I wonder if he’s out again? )

( Whenever I ask, he just says he’s going on a walk or something like that... )

( I wonder if something happened...? )

ー Kou enters the room

Kou: I’m backー

Yui: Ah! Kou-kun...! Geez, I was worried because you just wouldn’t come home!

Kou: Ahー My bad? My stroll got a little prolonged, you could say?

Yui: Ah...Right.

( If something were up...he’d for sure talk to me about it...Right? )

I’ll make dinner now, so hang on, okay?

*TIMESKIP*

*Chop chop chop*

Kou: Heey, Yuiii~

Yui: What’s wrong?

Kou: I’m totally starved!

Food, quick!

Yui: Fufu, it’s almost ready so wait just a little longer?

Kou: ...Don’t wanna.

ー He sneaks up on her

*Rustle*

Yui: Wah...Wait, Kou-kun...!?

( He wrapped his arms around me from behind...!? )

It’s dangerous to do this while I’m cooking, you know?

Kou: But I’m home now...

Yet you won’t pay attention to me at all.

It’s boring.

Yui: Well...I’m making dinner right now, so it can’t be helped...

Kou: Then you don’t need to make food.

Yui: ( Says the person who was crying about being hungry just now... )

Kou: But, well...

Yui: ...Hm?

Kou: This kind of makes us seem like newlyweds, don’t you think?

Yui: Eh!?

ー Yui drops something

Kou: Ahaha! You’re way too shocked!

Yui: But...!

Kou: But it’s the truth, right?

Yui: Uu...

Kou: Then, let’s do something that fits the image of newlyweds!

Yui: Eeh? What will you do then...?

Kou: Hmー ...Taste-test the food?

Yui: ( Pretty sure he just wants to have a bite... )

Then...Can I ask you to taste the soup?

Kou: Leave it to me!

Yui: Uhm, I’m pretty sure the spoons are over there...

Kou: Wrong, right?

Yui: Eh? What am I getting wrong?

Kou: You’ll feed me, won’t you?

Yui: Eeh!? Really!?

Kou: We have to act like newlyweds, so that should be a given!

Come on, you hold the spoon.

Yui: ...We’re actually doing this?

Kou: Of course! Come on, aaaahn~

Yui: ( ...This is embarrassing...But... )

S-Say ‘aaahn’...

Kou: ...Nn...Mmh~ It’s good!

Yui: Really!? I’m glad!

Kou: Then it’s my turn next, right? Okay, open wide!

Yui: Eh? ...I’m fine...

Kou: Why are you being so modest? Come on, say ‘aaahn’!

Yui: A-Aahn...

Kou: Fufu~ Well done.

...How does it taste?

Yui: I-It’s good...I guess...?

( To be honest, the flavor was the last thing on my mind... )

Kou: Then are you done cooking now?

Yui: Yeah. Seasoning the soup was the last task on the list.

Kou: Okay! Let’s hurry up and eat!

Yui: Good idea. I’m hungry too.

ー They move to the table

Kou: I’m digging in!

Yui: Thanks for the meal.

Kou: Nom...Nn...You knowーー

...Whoops, I shouldn’t talk with food in my mouth, huh?

...Nn...You know, Yui!

Yui: What’s wrong? Was it not very good, perhaps...?

Kou: Ah, that’s not it...But aren’t you forgetting something?

Yui: Forgetting something?

( What could that be...? Did something happen? )

Kou: Hahー By the looks of it, you’ve completely forgotten.

Geez! Get a grip on yourself! Tomorrow’s your birthday, remember!?

Yui: Ah...Right.

Kou: We’ll go out to buy whatever you want to eat tomorrow, so don’t forget!

Yui: No way...It’s fine, really.

Kou: Don’t say that! We have to properly celebrate your birthday.

I’ll buy your favorite food and even prepare a cake!

Understood?

Yui: Y-Yeah...

Kou: ...You don’t seem very happy though? ...You don’t like me celebrating your birthday or something...?

Yui: Oh no! That’s not true! It’s just...I didn’t think you’d say that so, I...

Kou: Stop! I’ll listen to the rest tomorrow, so don’t say it just yet!

Yui: R-Right...

( My birthday...I never thought Kou-kun would celebrate for me. )

( I’m looking forward to tomorrow...! )

Kou: That being said, we gotta head out early in the morning tomorrow to do the shopping. 

So you better hit the hay soon?

Yui: Eh?

Kou: I’ll clean up too, okay?

Come on, you should hurry and get ready for bed!

Off you go!

*Rustle*

Yui: Wah! Hold on, Kou-kun!?

( I wonder what has gotten into him...!? )

Kou: Goodnight!

Yui: Y-Yeah...Goodnight?

ー He pushes her out of the room

Kou: Phew...I guess the coast is clear now...?

*Flip*

Kou: ...

...Tomorrow...huh?

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to town

Yui: ( Kou-kun acted a little off yesterday... )

( But today he seems to be his usual self...I guess? )

Kou: Yui, give me your bags.

Yui: Eh?

Kou: It’s heavy because you bought a lot, right? I’ll carry them.

Yui: Ah...Thank you.

( Kou-kun’s so nice... )

Kou: Are you sure you bought everything you want to eat?

Yui: Yeah, this is plenty! I was able to buy it all so...thank you.

Kou: Really? There’s really no need to hold back though.

Yui: ( Kou-kun says that but...I bought quite a lot already, I think...? )

( I wonder if we’ll be able to finish everything... )

( I have to make sure we can preserve whatever leftovers we may have. )

( I suppose I could turn the fruits into a jam...? )

Hey, Kou-kun...

Wait...Huh...? Kou-kun...?

( He’s gone...Don’t tell me ,did we get separated because I spaced out...? )

( Oh no... )

For now, I’ll look around these parts...!

ー Yui starts running around

Yui: Haah...

( What now...? He’s not here either... )

Kou: Ah! M-neko-chan!

Yui: ...Kou-kun!!

Kou: Thank god! I was wondering where you had run off to!

Yui: I’m sorry. Seems like I blanked out for a bit.

Kou: I’m sorry too!

Yui: No way, you don’t have to apologize.

It’s because I got lost in thought...I’m to blame, I truly am sorry!

Kou: ...Fufu~ We’re so weird! We’re both apologizing, huh?

Yui: But, I...I was shocked when you were suddenly gone...

Kou: I started panicking when I realized you were gone too, you know?

Either way, I’m glad I found you. Let’s head home holding hands so we don’t get separated again.

Come on, give me your hand.

Yui: Yeah...!

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the living room

*Cling*

Kou: Ta-dah! It’s time for the long-awaited cake!

Here you go. This is your slice.

Yui: Wah, thank you!

Kou: You really are a maiden at heart to choose strawberry shortcake~

Yui: ...What do you mean?

Kou: ...That it’s cute.

Yui: ...!

Kou: Geez~ You always start blushing right away...

You really are like a strawberry, you know? I’d love to eat you...is what I would say, but!

Right now, the real strawberries get priority.

I’ll give you mine!

Yui: Eh? ...But...Then you won’t have any.

Kou: I’m fine. You’re the star of today after all!

Yui: ...Fufu, thank you!

Kou: Fufu~ Ahー I guess I might as well sit next to you instead of across then.

*Rustle*

Kou: Pardon the intrusion~!

*Thud*

Yui: Well then...It’d be a shame to let the cake go to waste so let’s give it a taste?

*Cling*

Kou: Ah! Wait!

Yui: W-What’s wrong? You’re suddenly shouting...

Kou: You know, we have to do that! That!

It’s a birthday cake, so we should put a candle on top and have you blow it out!

Yui: Ah...I guess so?

Kou: Of course! That’s a given!

I’ll give it to you after I’ve put on the candle so hold on tight, okay?

*Rustle*

Kou: Hmー Here, all ready!

Yui: Thanks!

( I’m pretty sure I haven’t blown out a candle since I was a child... )

Kou: Well then...Will you blow it out soon?

Yui: Yeah! Okay...Here I go?

Pheew...

ー The lights go out

Yui: ( Wah! It’s pitch black! )

*Rustle*

Yui: ( Eh...? He grabbed my arm... )

Kou: Happy birthday, Yui.

Yui: Kyah...!?

Kou: Fufu! Mission complete!

ー The lights go back on

Yui: Geez...Everything went black all of a sudden, it spooked me.

Kou: I’m sorry, I wanted to surprise you.

Yui: ( Speaking of which, he said ‘mission complete’, but what does that mean...? )

Eh...?

( A ring...!? )

Kou-kun...This is...

Kou: Yeah. It’s my present to you.

Yui: ( It looks like the one we saw at the jewelry store the other day... )

( But the shape seems a little different... )

Kou: Hmm...I thought I did a pretty good job though.

Well, the fact that it’s a little oddly shaped is its charm, a selling point!

Yui: This, did you perhaps...?

Kou: ...Yeah, I made it myself. I’m no good at handiwork, so I couldn’t do a very good job though.

Yui: You made this ring for me...!?

Kou: Yeah, I sure did!

I actually wanted to give you something and went to go buy the one they were selling at the store. 

However, it got sold right before me.

Then when I told the people at the store that I wanted the ring no matter what, they suggested I would make it myself.

That’s how I got them to teach me how to make a ring this whole time up till today.

Yui: Up until today...The whole time...

( Then all those times he was gone lately. )

( Or when he suddenly disappeared earlier as well... )

Kou: Also, look at this!

*Rustle*

Kou: This was my first attempt, but it barely even looks like a ring, huh?

...Look, it’s just an iron scrap, don’t you think?

I really gave it my everything.

Yui: Yeah...I can tell, don’t worry.

Kou: Also, I realized.

Yui: What did you realize?

Kou: That you probably wouldn’t have been happy, even if I got to gift you the ring which was up for sale.

Up until now, I always thought that it was natural to return the favor when a person gives you something.

...However, now I no longer feel that way.

Yui: ...

Kou: I don’t want anything in return.

Because I already know that something much better exists beyond that.

Yui: Kou-kun...

Kou: So, even if the appearance is a little shabby, this is the proof of my love for you!

Yui: Yeah...Kou-kun...I...

( Oh no...The tears are... )

Kou: ...Fufu, you’re so happy it’s making you cry?

Yui: Yeah...I’m overjoyed...! After all...You made this for me...!

Kou: Ah...

...Mmh. Thank you.

Yui: ( Kou-kun said the shape is a little strange but. )

( It’s such a lovely ring... )

( And above all, I’m happy knowing that Kou-kun made it himself. )

( I can tell just how much effort he put in... )

I’m happy...Kou-kun, thank you. Thank you so, so much...!

Kou: Ahー Come on, dry your tears?

Yui: But...Uu...

( I can’t...stop these tears... )

Kou: Well, I’m happy knowing you like it this much too though...

Oh, geez! Lift your face?

...Nn...

*Smooch*

Yui: ...!

Kou: ...Done crying?

Yui: ...Yes.

Kou: Your crying face is cute too though. ...Nn...

*Smooch*

Kou: ...Hey, scoot closer...

...Nn...Nn...

...Even your tears are sweet, huh? ...Nn...

Yui: ...Kou-kun...

Kou: ...Nn...Haah...

Yui...I love you...

...Thank you for being born into this world...Nn...

Yui: ( I love you too, Kou-kun... )

( Thank you, Kou-kun... )

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the outside

*Snap*

Kou: ...Yeah, we’re having lovely weather today as well.

Oi, Yui! This way!

Yui: Wait, Kou-kun!

You walk way too fast...

Kou: Sorry, sorry~ The sky just looked so pretty.

I couldn’t sit still.

Yui: I do understand how you feel...The sky is so clear after all.

But even so, leaving me behind is just mean!

Kou: Like I said, I’m sorry! ...So forgive me?

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: ( Wah...Kou-kun embraced me... ) 

Kou: Hm...In the light, you can really see the flaws.

Yui: ...Hm?

Kou: I’m talking about your ring. It didn’t quite catch my eye yesterday though.

But the shape is a little crooked, don’t you think?

Yui: It’s not.

Besides, I will never take this ring off again.

After all...This ring is the proof of your feelings.

I could search far and wide, I wouldn’t find a single ring in this whole world quite as lovely.

Kou: ...Really?

Yui: Yeah! For sure!

Kou: I see...

*Rustle*

Kou: Hm...

Yui: Kou-kun?

Kou: ...Right. Won’t you let me slip that ring on your finger one more time?

Yui: The ring?

Kou: Yeah.

Yui: Yesterday, I gave it to you in the dark after all.

*Rustle*

Kou: And there just so happens to be such a beautiful sky.

I want to put this ring on you.

...Underneath the blue skies I admired for years.

Yui: Kou-kun...

Kou: ...Can I?

Yui: Yeah.

Kou: ...Ever since I was born, I have seen a lot of things.

I went through a lot of pain, and experienced many hardships.

Yui: Yeah...

Kou: But, I met Ruki-kun and the others, as well as that man...

I learnt about a blue sky which isn’t confined by a circle or a square.

And...I found you.

Yui: Mmh...

Kou: I thought I had nothing left, but right now, I have you.

That is all I need. I don’t want anything else.

I swear on this misformed ring, underneath the sky...

I love you...Yui.

From here on out, for eternity...

...How about you?

Yui: ...Me too...I love you...!

Kou: Yeah...Thank you.

Let’s be together forever.

I love you, Yui...

*Smooch*

ーー THE END ーー

Translation notes

(1) Literally she says ‘to be emotionally moved by various things’ but that sounded rather stiff in English, so I translated it a little differently. 

(2) Literally he asks her to ‘point her consciousness/awareness towards him’. 

(3) I actually have no idea what these are called in English but they’re the large TV screens which may be attached to buildings or put out in public to display important events, etc. In Japan, these are super common in big cities but here in Belgium - for example - you rarely ever see them. ^^;;

(4) Kou uses the term 色づく or ‘iro-duku’ which is often used to refer to the ripening of fruits or the reddening of leaves during fall time. I assume in this case, he wants to imply that she is becoming more mature. 

(5) The verb 要る or ‘iru’ literally means ‘to need’, but it is often used to reject something as well, in which case ‘want’ seems more fitting in English. 

[wayhavven]

Love’s Philosophy

Gift fic for @mewsly as a part of @loveinwayhaven

Pairing: Adam Du Mortain x Detective Orianna Moreau

Rating: All

Word Count: 2712

Notes: Ah! I’m so nervous to post this! I really hope I did your detective justice, she seems amazing 🥺 I went for sort of mid-romance vibes... this is also the first time I’ve written Adam, or anything TWC actually, so I have been a little worried about how he comes across as well. I really hope you enjoy😅

Summary: Adam spends some time in the library.

Adam grunts as his large fingers slip over the leather bound books on the shelf. He’s tucked away right at the back of the library in the bunker, looking for absolutely nothing in particular. If each title that flicks in his peripheral is decidedly not something else, then, well, he wouldn’t notice. And he certainly doesn’t notice the mug ring on the coffee table at the end of the row. Still wet. He can say with ninety-nine point nine percent accuracy that this is a result of a sickeningly sweet, creamer-laced coffee, probably left half full and forgotten momentarily because it’s owner had been perusing the shelves for something else about the supernatural.

And then it catches him, an old—perhaps very early edition if he remembers right—edition of Pride and Prejudice. She doesn’t know it’s here, because he’s sure she would’ve said.

But when he reaches for it, his hand stops by itself. It drags across the direction toward the dark corners, moving at speed until—plod. Something leather-bound with a worn bookmark partway through. As he gently slides it out, Adam notes the gold type font on the front: a poetry anthology. Shelley, to be specific. He knows a lot of these by heart, three-hundred odd years of people raving about the rakes and romantics will do that to a guy. All the same, he’s sure to thumb carefully to the bookmarked part. The spine squeaks as it opens, a quiet yawn where Adam is waking it from a nap. A little dust flies up and is highlighted in the strips of dim lamplight from above. He looks up briefly, checking his surroundings. Not that the detective would be able to come anywhere near him without his pheromones going off. Even if he wasn’t a vampire, he’s sure he’d recognise the sound of her footfall underwater. Because he has to know to protect her properly, of course.

The page the book has squeaked open to has one poem on it: ‘Love’s Philosophy.’

Adam, not particularly taken with poetry for the most part, doesn’t know this one. Only the very famous ones when it comes to Percy Bysshe Shelley: ‘Ozymandias,’ ‘To a Skylark,’ ‘Stanzas Written in…’

Reading for enjoyment as a rule isn’t his thing. But the little he does recall never really lit anything in him. He has never felt how he was told poetry should be making him feel. Maybe he is too worn from years spent focusing on most things aside from feeling. Absentmindedly grazing his thumb over the page, feeling each grain of the pulp on his finger tips, Adam finds his eyes wandering back to the wet mug ring on the coffee table to his right. Drying now, the sheen dulling to match the light wood. It’s nice wood, light, fresh, slightly enthusiastically holding the weight of forgotten books. Adam’s a little lost in the colour. Because it echoes in his mind a similar colour that has been the focus of many an accidental daydream.

Suddenly, he’s seeing pretty light brown eyes; caramelly, iridescent when they’re in that one chair in the office where the sun has a chance to shine on them. Lighting up when she learns new things, particularly those of his world; the supernatural world. Creasing a little in the corners when she makes the odd sarcastic quip. Dilating every so often when he’s talking to her, for reasons he isn’t sure.

One of the books on the table is leather-bound in a deep red, and Adam finds himself imprinting the image of coils of long hair that exact shade into the space he stares at. Adam actively does not enjoy that his brain wanders like this. That it seems to veer off task for silly reasons.

He shakes his head. If only he had a use for sleep. He doesn’t often find himself wishing that, but these days… perhaps more often. Perhaps he wonders what he might dream of.

But he doesn’t want to lose the control of consciousness. It keeps him in check. It keeps him able to protect the detective.

And he doesn’t want to lose control full stop. Doesn’t let himself think too deeply about any of it for fears he may push himself past retrieval.

Adam finds, as he stands there almost frozen, that his mind wanders to a day not so dissimilar to this one. When he had been reading late, against his wishes, for some information Rebecca requested.

—-

With each line he reads, Adam can feel his biceps twitching to get some combat under his belt. This is more Nate’s expertise; he’d far rather be out trying to get one up on Morgan. But, alas, he has been given other responsibilities. And he always fulfills his responsibilities. He finds himself sighing each time he turns the page, increasingly frustrated that he actually seems to be learning less.

Like a saving grace, the library door creaks open and he looks up from where he stands by the window. One hand in his pocket, one under the old book. Detective Orianna Moreau enters, a candle highlighting the high points of her soft, deep brown skin, shining in the light-hued eyes which find him almost immediately. Her silhouette casts subtle grey shadows on the wall behind her as she nears him.

He’d known she was coming, of course. He always does. But it’s always a different thing actually seeing her. Like he’s never completely convinced she’s really there.

She smiles gently at him, nearing with the candle in her grip melting down itself, flickering.

“You’re up late,” she says, placing the candle down by him on a ledge. “I thought you might need a bit of light.”

Light. Like her. Her charming, friendly, easygoing nature always lights up the room. Adam reveres it sometimes. Sometimes he doesn’t.

It makes him a little nervous, actually. And he hates feeling nervous. Hates losing himself in the light when he has to focus on work and tasks.

“Thank you.”

He doesn’t say anything else, but is acutely aware as he remains standing in his spot, that the detective goes to sit on a nearby sofa. She’s supposed to be researching too, so it’s not too odd, but humans do have to sleep, after all.

“Should you not be asleep?” He turns just enough so that he can see her from the side of his face.

“I have to learn this, and want to. There are far worse ways to be spending an evening.” She smirks at him, suggestive and amused. “Come and sit with me.”

At first, Adam was going to outright point-blank say no. So he’s not completely sure why his legs carry him over to the sofa and lower him down beside her. But far enough away that there’s significant space between them. She laughs and rolls her eyes, scooting over next to him. The small amount of her body which presses up against him sends a shock of ice up his veins. She’s warm, so warm, that he feels like his ice is melting a little. It’s almost terrifying, but Adam doesn’t move. Doesn’t show outwardly how he’s feeling. Lets his thigh burn quietly as though he’s already extinguished the flames.

The book in his hand drops to his lap, his other hand twitching on his thigh. She gives him that smile again and his heart almost stops. Settling back into the cushions, Orianna picks up the book from his hands and starts to dig into it.

“I was reading that.”

“I know, but you weren’t enjoying it.”

That she seems to know this about him, though, isn’t lost on Adam. He believes himself to be stoic and mysterious perhaps, but maybe Orianna can see past that. Through it. The way Nate always does.

She holds the book in her left hand, her right sitting on her thigh somewhat restlessly. Just inches from his own. Ensuring that she’s pouring all of her attention into the book, which she seems to be, Adam drops his eyes subtly to her hand. Unsure why, but seemingly doing things of his own accord, Adam’s impulse is to make contact with her. His pinky falters, reaching out a little by itself, quivering in a way he isn’t used to. A way he isn’t sure he likes. Nonetheless, he uses its movement to bolster the moving of the rest of his hand. Slowly, millimetre by millimetre, Adam lets his hand move away from his body. Slip across to the detective’s. He places his down on top of hers gently, encompassing it, letting his fingers and thumb curl around its shape. He doesn’t dare look at her, but he can’t miss in his peripheral the smug beaming grin which takes over her expression.

They sit like that a long while, Adam still, holding her hand. He should be frustrated that he’s not getting anything productive done, but he can’t be. Something about her hand in his means he cannot be anything other than content and a touch conflicted. The detective’s expression never falters as she reads, doesn’t worry when she has a hard time turning the page with the use of only one hand. Seems quite amused by it, actually. Adam chuckles himself a little internally, unable to stop the smile which spreads over his face. With his free hand, he reaches over and turns the page for her.

“Thanks.”

“It is my pleasure.”

When the detective repositions their hands, winding hers around and up, so that their hands are completely joined, Adam can’t help but finally look at her fully. She squeezes his hand, and looks up at him too. Their eyes bore into each other, melting.

It had all been going so well until Farah bounded in like a puppy with a new toy. Quickly, rushedly, Adam pulls his hand from the detective’s.

—-

He thinks about that day a lot. Wishes he didn’t. Wishes he didn’t think about a lot of things pertaining to the detective.

As though on cue, the fine hairs on his arm stand to attention, and his ears zone in on the sound of smart shoes on the linoleum. She’s coming back.

Forcing his eyes back down to the page, Adam has completely forgotten what he had even been looking at. ‘Love’s Philosophy,’ that’s it. Shelley.

She’s entering, though, and he can’t focus himself enough on what he’s holding to seem entirely nonchalant. Doesn’t give himself enough time to consider that it probably isn’t in his best interests for Detective Moreau to see what he’s holding. She’s bold, flirty. She’d pick up on something and make a remark that would have his cheeks hot and his jaw tightening in a way he doesn’t want it to.

Through the gap in the shelf he can just about see a fitted pencil skirt, shirt tucked in, emerging into the library. She’s holding another book, something supernatural focused that smells a little of blood and Adam isn’t sure where exactly came from.

Next thing he knows, she’s rounded the corner.

“Oh.” He hears her from the side, always debating how the next words will come from his mouth. She just seems a little surprised he’s there, is all. “Hi.”

He can hear the smile in her voice, senses how she places her book down on the coffee table he’d been so fixated on before. The title looks to be written in Haitian Creole.

“Hello. You have been busy.” He nods to the table. She grins. There’s always a sparkle in her eyes when she’s learning new things; especially new things about the world which only opened up to her not so long ago.

“Always have to know more, you know me.”

He does. Knows her scent, the exact amount of time which passes between each step she takes, how she shines like the sun whenever something otherworldly occurs. Knows she would be interested to know about the early edition of Jane Austen he completely accidentally came across. Knows that a large part of him wishes he didn’t know these things.

“What are you reading?” she asks, the tone of her voice something Adam hadn’t even realised he’d been yearning to hear.

“I am not. I picked it up. I will be putting it back now,” he nods, hesitating at the sight of the page. His eyes drag over the words subconsciously: heaven, sweet emotion, sunlight, moonbeams, kiss.

Things which are meant to be pretty and emotive and only seem to be making him think of the one thing he doesn’t really want to think of.

How maybe he doesn’t believe in heaven, but that it might be something close to her eyes when she smiles. Or how sweet emotion is something that Adam doesn’t feel like he can achieve, but if he were to, maybe it would be because of her. The sunlight which shines on her in her office, which highlights her features and matches her personality. Moonbeams… electric, softly-glowing, other-wordly. Kiss… well, he tries not to focus on that one.

But he also thinks sometimes he thinks too much and of too absurd topics. That he shouldn’t allow himself to think these things. He has responsibilities. Duties.

He might have closed the book and placed it back when he hears her start to near, but he feels a little too frozen on the spot.

“Shelly,” she smiles again, pulling down on the corner of the book so that she can see the contents of the page. “A love poem! Romantic,” she teases, in the way that only Orianna knows how.

“I was just interested in the bookmark.”

“Oh, that might have been me, I like this one.”

He nods, moving to close it, but his hand is caught by Orianna instead. He stiffens, the brush from her climbing up the brim in his arm right the way to his heart. Reminding him of when he’d held her hand before.

“Let me read it again.” She smiles, letting her eyes drift back over the page. She’s stubborn, so there’s no point arguing. Not that he’d have much reason to, anyway. Adam finds his curious eyes slipping over the page, too, and he reads the words in front of him.

The fountains mingle with the river

And the rivers with the ocean,

The winds of heaven mix for ever

With a sweet emotion;

Nothing in the world is single;

All things by a law divine

In one spirit meet and mingle.

Why not I with thine?—

See the mountains kiss high heaven

And the waves clasp one another;

No sister-flower would be forgiven

If it disdained its brother;

And the sunlight clasps the earth

And the moonbeams kiss the sea:

What is all this sweet work worth

If thou kiss not me?

When he pulls his eyes from the page, he looks to the woman beside him. She’s mouthing the last line, subtle warmth on her face, and it’s impossible to not focus on the movements of her lips as she rolls through the vowels and consonants.

“Yes, it’s lovely. Just as I remember.”

“I suppose it is not awful.”

She lets out a little snort. “You hate reading for pleasure.”

The smile he returns is ever so miniscule. She’s absolutely right, but seeing her find joy in it makes it not so bad.

He’s drawn in by the pull of her eyes again, struggling to find the right words. Creasing his brow a little, he watches her edge a little closer. Finds himself willing down the impulse to hold her hand once more.

She smiles at him, in a way that tells him she knows the look on his face. It’s frozen, unsure, repressing. So she just leans in, and places a gentle, soft kiss just below his ear. Her lips on his skin sear simultaneously hot and cold, soft. She lingers a little, hand ghosting at his jaw. A little cold touch from the jewellery she wears.

That spot feels incredibly warm even as she moves away again. Even as she pulls the book from his hands, closes it, places it back on the shelf.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Adam.”

Adam starts, not even remembering what the date was. Perhaps he’d been a little too distracted.

“I—well, yes. Happy Valentine’s Day, I suppose.”

[carewyncromwell]

*sings* Cinderella...you’re as lovely as your name, Cinderella~...

Okay, some quick notes before we start. Despite the beauty of their work, painters’ palettes were actually rather limited on pigments during the Renaissance, only having three pigments more than artists did during the Middle Ages. The Moly is a magical plant that appears in Homer’s The Odyssey. Hermes gives it to Odysseus as a charm to protect him from Circe’s spells. It’s been most commonly compared to the snowdrop flower by scholars. It also is referenced in the canon Potterverse as a powerful herb that can counter enchantments.

The Willow Song appears as a motif at the end of William Shakespeare’s Othello, though it was written at least thirty years earlier. In Othello, Desdemona sings a few stanzas of it in response to her husband’s growing distance and madness -- to the audience watching the play in Shakespeare’s day, which would already know the song, its inclusion foreshadows Othello and Desdemona’s tragic ending. “No One is Alone” is from Stephen Sondheim’s well-regarded musical Into the Woods, which features Cinderella as a semi-major character -- the song is actually even partially sung by Cinderella in the show!

I edited the art for this section, as you can tell. Badeea’s painting is a modified photograph of the Chateau de Chambord in France, overlaid on top of my own drawing. (Thanks, Lunapic!) This is also my very first time drawing Badeea!! GOD, is she pretty!! I think her eyes are my favorite of all the HPHM cast.

Previous part is here -- whole tag is here -- Katriona “KC” Cassiopeia belongs to @kc-needs-coffee -- and I hope you enjoy!

x~x~x~x

When Carewyn followed up with Andre the next morning, he was quite disappointed when he saw Carewyn wasn’t wearing the new shoes he’d made for her with her uniform. He honestly hadn’t even considered that they wouldn’t be comfortable for walking in -- and honestly, Carewyn could sort of understand why. Andre had never been able to leave the palace grounds, so there no doubt were a lot of practical things he’d just never considered...such as how very flashy royal fashion was, compared to that of the common man. He was pleased with the feedback Carewyn “passed along from her cousins” for him, though -- completely unaware of the fact that all three comments were really opinions that Carewyn herself had had about the dress.

“Hmm...that is a good point,” said Andre, his hand resting on his chin. “Red is a beautiful color...but a deep blue would not only bring out your eyes, but it would also perfectly contrast your ginger hair, since blue and orange are on opposite sides of the color wheel...”

His face burst into a bright white smile. “Your cousin Iris really has an eye for colors.”

Carewyn successfully fought back a groan, even as her eyes drifted up off toward the top corner of the room.

“...Well, she has taken up embroidery as a hobby. I suppose when one spends a lot of time doing samplers, one could develop an eye for colors.”

And also create a lot of initialed handkerchiefs to conveniently drop in front of noblemen so they pick it up and return it to you.

Andre, however, reacted with some interest. “Is that so? Hmm...well, maybe when I’m working on your new pair of shoes, I could invite her over for tea so she can give me her second opinion before I give them to you.”

Carewyn had never disliked a thought more in her life that Iris having a say in what she wore -- but knowing that she shouldn’t be the one to sabotage Iris, especially when her cousin would no doubt be able to do it well enough on her own, she put on her best smile.

“...I’m sure Iris would enjoy that very much.”

Sure enough, within a week, Iris had been invited to the palace for tea with the Prince. Carewyn could only imagine how thrilled Iris, her aunt Claire, and Charles were. As for Carewyn herself, she knew it was now time to do as Charles said and stay out of Iris’s way...and so when Iris arrived, she made sure to clean the rooms in her wing of the palace in a different order and not sing so that Andre wouldn’t be able to “check in” on her with Iris in tow. She didn’t think she could stand it if Iris got to look down at her polishing the palace floors.

Her lack of singing, however, did catch Badeea’s attention. When Carewyn collided with the court painter in the hallway, she expressed some concern.

“I missed your accompaniment, while I was painting,” she said. “Is everything all right?”

Carewyn felt guilty as she leaned her broom against the wall for a moment. “Oh...yes, Badeea, I’m fine. I merely...well, my cousin Iris is spending time with the Prince today, so I thought to...well, not draw focus.”

Badeea nodded in understanding. “Mm, yes...some things are meant to be background details, while others are meant to catch the eye straight away.”

Carewyn and Badeea caught the sound of Iris’s twittering, bird-like laughter echoing down the hall toward them. Not wanting to be seen when or if Iris and Andre came out into the hall themselves, Carewyn quickly picked up her broom and went around the corner -- Badeea adjusted her easel under her arm and followed.

“Say, Carewyn,” said the court painter thoughtfully, “why don’t you dress up in that nice yellow and green dress you have and come to the market with me?”

Carewyn blinked.

“I need to pick up some more carbon black and indigo for this painting I’m working on for Andre, but the man who sells those paints loves to price gauge. If you were dressed up all fancy and you slid in a reference to your family, though, he might be less likely to try to rip you off,” Badeea added with a tiny, coy smile.

Carewyn frowned, feeling a bit unsure. “I don’t know, Badeea -- I still have a lot of work to do...”

“You have the whole rest of the day to finish,” Badeea reminded her. “It would only take maybe an hour or two. And it would get you out of the palace while your cousin’s here.”

Carewyn considered the matter. Truthfully she’d been hoping to finish her work quickly so she could stow away back to the library and scan more troop deployment records...but she really did hate the thought of bumping into Andre and Iris, not just because of how much Iris would hate Carewyn getting any attention and therefore delight in tormenting her in front of the Prince in order to puff herself up, but because she didn’t want to provoke Charles’s ire unnecessarily.

“All right,” she said. “I’ll go change.”

Not long later, Carewyn had put on her mother’s old dress, pinned her hair up, and joined Badeea by the front gates, and the two headed into town on foot. The sky was still rather gray -- it had been raining and thundering for the last couple of days, and there was still a lot of mud in places. Carewyn was glad she was wearing her worn brown shoes under her gown rather than the pretty heels Andre had made for her -- particularly since nobody would likely be looking at her feet.

The shopkeeper in question was indeed a bit intimidated when Carewyn offhandedly referred to “her grandfather, Charles Cromwell” -- and soon enough, Badeea had been able to skip most of the haggling she would’ve normally had to make just to get her paints at a decent price. They left the shopkeeper’s stall, several jars of paint in hand.

As fate would have it, as they walked at the market, someone else was also shopping, and at the sight of the familiar dress and mane of ginger hair, he ran up to meet them.

“Carewyn!”

Carewyn and Badeea both looked up, to see Orion striding up to them. He once again wore his slightly-too-clean, but modest white shirt, olive breeches, and boots, and he was carried a basket full of henbane.

Carewyn’s red lips spread into a smile. “Orion...hello.”

Orion brought a hand up to his chest and offered her a short bow.

“It seems the stars favor us after all, my lady,” he said, the corners of his own lips kissed with traces of a wry smile.

Carewyn shot a quick glance at his basket and quirked an eyebrow.

“Purchasing some more incense?” she asked pointedly.

Orion’s black eyes sparkled. “I’m afraid we’ve already used up what I bought previously. Fortunately the gentleman from last time remembered my face and didn’t give me too much grief.”

“That’s fortunate.”

Carewyn glanced at Badeea to Orion and back.

“Orion, this is Badeea Ali -- she’s the Crown’s court painter. Badeea...this is Orion Freeman. He helped me retrieve my horse the other day.”

Badeea’s dark brown eyes were very bright. “Ah, yes -- KC had said that you were thrown off your horse. Thank you for helping Carewyn, sir,” she added to Orion.

“It was my pleasure,” said Orion. “What’s the subject of your next piece, if I may ask?”

“A foreboding sky and a distorted reflection,” Badeea replied.

Orion looked intrigued. “That would explain such dark shades. Who commissioned the piece?”

“The Prince,” said Badeea. “But his request was just of a view of the entire palace, from a distance -- I was simply inspired by the rainstorm that passed through a few days ago, and how the turrets of the palace looked reflected in the castle moat.” 

“I wonder how the castle of Royaume would see itself, if it had eyes,” said Orion levelly. “Would it see its beauty, or would it be the type to be critical of its flaws?”

“Hm...or would it see the beauty of its flaws?” asked Badeea.

“True,” granted Orion. “Flaws make us more human -- would that make something more beautiful, by serving as contrast to our strengths?”

“Flaws aren’t something you should simply have to accept,” said Carewyn demurely, her arms crossed. “One should strive to be better than one already is. Even if one is only human, that doesn’t mean they can’t work to be something better.”

Orion turned to her, interested. “And what would be better than being oneself, my lady?”

“Being a better version of oneself, of course,” Carewyn said, sounding matter-of-fact. “One can always be kinder, braver, stronger...more cunning, more passionate. One can always learn more, and do more, and be more.”

“Yes...but it seems like those could be crippling expectations to hold over yourself, to never be enough,” said Orion, and although his expression was very inscrutable, his lips twitched with something of a frown.

“Perfectionism is a disease that affects every artist sooner or later,” said Badeea sympathetically.

Her dark eyes flitted from Orion to Carewyn thoughtfully.

“I must be getting back to work on my painting...would you like to join us at the opposite bank, Mr. Freeman? I would be happy for some feedback on my work, before I present it to his Highness.”

Orion glanced at Carewyn for her approval -- she offered a small smile, and his lips turned up in a full smile of his own.

“I would be honored.”

So the three set about finding a less muddy spot by the castle moat, across from the palace. They found one right by a beautiful willow tree, where Carewyn very carefully lowered herself onto the grass. Badeea fetched her easel and chair, setting it up so that she had a good view of the castle. Orion looked over her incomplete work appreciatively.

“It looks like it could breathe, were it a living thing.”

“Thank you,” said Badeea. “Now then, I’ll need to concentrate while mapping out the sky, so no initiating conversation, please. These paints stay on fabric just as well as my canvas, so they won’t easily wash out. I would appreciate some accompaniment, though, Carewyn.”

Orion glanced at Carewyn curiously. Carewyn avoided his eye.

“Badeea, I don’t think -- ”

“Ah, ah,” said Badeea, holding up a gloved finger quickly, “no conversation. Accompaniment or nothing, please.”

She then set about mixing certain shades and color spotting sections of canvas.

Carewyn frowned. It was one thing to be singing while she was working herself, to pass the time, but Orion’s focus was still largely on her, and it felt weird. Still, she thought to herself, it wasn’t like she was bashful about singing in front of others, exactly -- she knew her voice was more than serviceable. There was really no harm in it. So, glancing up at the willow tree above her head, Carewyn rested her hands in the grass, leaned back, and sang.

“The poor soul sat sighing by a sycamore tree --

Sing willow, willow, willow...willow...

Her hand in her bosom, her head on her knee --

Oh willow, willow, willow...willow...

She sighed in her singing and made a great moan --

Sing willow, willow, willow...willow...

‘I’m dead to all pleasure -- my true love is gone --

Oh willow, willow, willow...shall be my garland...���”

Carewyn felt Orion’s dark eyes on her at the start. Before long, though, his eyes had fluttered closed, and he sat in perfect silence. As he listened, his shoulders loosened and his expression seemed to clear of all tension or pretense, like a child peacefully falling off to sleep. Badeea painted and shaded to the sound of Carewyn’s low, melancholy singing, adding white highlights to the dark gray and black shadows to create a cloudy sky with sunlight poking through.

When Carewyn was finished with the song, Orion slowly opened his eyes, meeting her gaze again at last. His eyes were oddly hesitant, almost shy.

“Y -- ”

He hesitated. Then, his black eyes softening handsomely, he closed his mouth, and it slowly spread into a smile gentler and warmer than Carewyn had ever seen before. He clearly approved.

Carewyn smiled in return and inclined her head in a silent “thank you.”

Carewyn sang some more songs until Badeea had finally finished and Orion and the two women had to part ways so that Badeea and Carewyn could pack up the easel and finished painting and bring them inside.

The following morning, Carewyn was surprised by KC pulling her aside to hand her a packet of what looked like handwritten sheet music.

“Your friend Orion stopped by a little while ago to give this to you,” she explained.

Carewyn was taken aback.

“I reckon he must’ve hopped over the wall,” said KC, unable to fight back a laugh. “I caught him strolling through the southwest gardens. I told him I’d bring it up to you, so that he wouldn’t get himself in trouble.”

Stunned, Carewyn looked down at the sheet music, shifting the pages so she could scan each line. Her blue eyes softened, growing deeper and darker with emotion, as she read the words and notes.

“...This...this is beautiful,” she whispered. She looked up at KC, unable to fully keep the awe from her face. “...You don’t think he wrote this?”

KC shook her head. “No, he said it was a song he learned when he was young, and that he tracked down the sheet music for you since he didn’t think he’d be able to properly sing it for you. I’ve never heard it either, though.”

Carewyn spent her meal times and about an hour before bed that night perusing the sheet music so she could learn the song. The following day, she felt confident enough to sing some of it while she started about cleaning the Queen’s Chambers.

“Mother isn’t here now...who knows what she’d say?

Nothing’s quite so clear now...feel you’ve lost your way?

You decide alone...but no one is alone.

You move just a finger, say the slightest word --

Something’s bound to linger...be heard...

No one acts alone...careful -- no one is alone...

People make mistakes -- fathers, mothers --

People make mistakes,

Holding to their own...thinking they’re alone...

Honor the mistakes everybody makes, one another’s terrible mistakes...

They could still be right -- they could still be good.

You decide what’s right -- you decide what’s good.

Just remember...”

“Carewyn!”

Carewyn stopped sweeping and looked up, to see Andre striding through the opened door of the Queen’s Chambers toward her.

“An -- your Highness,” Carewyn corrected herself very quickly, after noting who’d accompanied Andre.

Just behind him in the door frame was her dark-haired cousin Iris, dressed in her best rose velvet and her own almond-shaped blue eyes narrowed with loathing at Carewyn over Andre’s shoulder.

Andre, perfectly oblivious to the silent tension between the two cousins, gave a laugh.

“Oh, Carewyn, we’re not back to that again, are we? It’s ‘Andre,’ ” he said with an indulgent smile. “I haven’t heard that song before -- did you learn it recently?”

“Ah...yes,” said Carewyn. She could feel Iris’s fierce glare burning a hole in her face over Andre’s shoulder even without looking at either of them.

“It’s really quite lovely,” said Andre. “Please, do sing the rest of it when you’re able.”

“Of course, Prince Henri.”

Carewyn was absolutely not going to call Andre by his nickname in front of Iris -- she knew how Iris would shriek her head off about it to Charles.

Andre sighed and shook his head in something like tired amusement.

“I was hoping we’d catch you on your rounds,” he said conversationally. “I’m just about finished with your new shoes! Iris said your favorite color was ash gray -- I’ve never really worked with that color before, so it’ll be a bit of a challenge -- but I’m sure I’ll find a shade that might suit you...”

Ash gray? Running with the ‘Cinderwyn’ nickname, then, are we, Iris?

Carewyn forced a smile. “...Thank you. That’s...very kind.”

Feeling more uncomfortable by the minute, she quickly rushed over to pick up her full dust pan with her other hand.

“Forgive me, I really should go and empty this -- ”

At that exact moment, Iris had strode forward, bumping Carewyn’s shoulder in just such a way that the pan was knocked backward onto Carewyn, covering her, her orange and tan dress, and the floor with all of the dust, dirt, and grime she’d swept up over the last hour.

“Oh!” said Iris in feigned surprise. “I’m so sorry.”

Her gaze, however, was just as hard and unapologetic as it had been when she’d ripped the sleeve off Carewyn’s dress at home.

“Carewyn!” said Andre, concerned. “Are you all right?”

Carewyn coughed.

“...Yes, of course,” she said, her voice very hard and stoic in the back of her throat. “It was merely an accident.”

She shot Iris a cold look as she looked over her now thoroughly ruined uniform and the dust and dirt all around her feet.

“Please, go on ahead with Iris, your Highness. I’ll clean up this mess.”

Once Iris had successfully steered the reluctant-looking Andre out of the room, Carewyn closed the door, took off her dress, and finished cleaning the room in her undergarments, so as not to spread the dust and ash around any further. Then, very carefully, she darted across the hall from the Queen’s Chambers to Andre’s, so that she could fetch the high-necked, gold-embroidered dress made out of white linen and light blue velvet he’d recently finished for her from his walk-in closet. After all, she told herself, she needed something to wear while she was getting her uniform cleaned -- and well, at least Iris would be less likely to ruin this dress, since Andre had stitched it himself.

Holding her dusty, ashen dress in a folded pile against her chest, Carewyn headed downstairs toward the laundry. On her way through the entrance hall, though, KC -- who’d just come out of the library -- ran up to walk alongside her down the hall.

“Seems your friend is back.”

Carewyn’s messy ponytail flapped over her shoulder when she looked at her in surprise. “Orion?”

KC nodded, her lips curled up in a wry smile. “I thought I saw someone hopping over the wall through the library window, just now. Shall we go investigate?”

Carewyn bit her lip, looking down at the ruined uniform in her arms.

“Let me drop this off at the laundry first,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”

Carewyn ran down the stairs and threw her uniform into one of the tubs to soak, before quickly doing her hair up in a simple, but slightly more presentable braided bun and hurrying back up to join KC. The two women then headed out to the gardens, only to hear something of a scuffle.

“A man with innocent intentions does not hop over castle walls,” said Bill’s voice, though it sounded much lower and harder than Carewyn was used to hearing.

“In this case, sir, I assure you, I do.”

“You will declare your true name and business at once, sir, or I shall see to it that you’re locked in irons and hauled before the King himself -- ”

“Bill!” cried Carewyn.

Bill looked up, startled. The ginger-haired castle guard had slammed Orion back-first against a tree, holding him up off the ground by his collar with one hand, but at the sight of Carewyn and KC running forward, the suspicion and righteous anger in his face dissipated instantly.

“It’s all right, Bill,” Carewyn reassured him. “He’s a friend.”

“Put him down,” said KC.

Bill looked from KC to Carewyn in confusion, before glancing at Orion warily, but he nonetheless did as they said. Once he’d lowered Orion to the ground and let go of his shirt, the dark-haired man calmly adjusted his collar and picked up a satchel that must’ve come off in the struggle off the ground.

“Thank you, Carewyn...Lady Katriona,” he said pleasantly, as if he had not just been in a loose choke hold.

KC grimaced. “Orion, I’ve saved your butt twice now -- we’ve more than gotten to the point of you calling me KC.”

Orion smiled wryly. “I’m glad of it.”

Carewyn, however, still looked a bit harried. “Orion, what were you thinking? Hopping the wall...it’s no wonder Bill thought you were up to no good!”

“Well, the gate was locked, and no one was there to greet me,” said Orion airily.

“Well, of course the palace of Royaume has very strong security,” Carewyn said exasperatedly, “the royal family lives here.”

“I must wonder how the royal family ever receives visitors, then.”

“They don’t,” said Bill rather coolly. “They invite them, and very rarely, at that. And they clearly didn’t invite you to trespass on the grounds.”

Orion was unfazed. “Well, fortunately, I wasn’t looking for such an invitation, to begin with. I merely wanted to give this to Carewyn, as a gift for Madam Ali.”

He reached into his satchel and pulled out a jar of unusually shiny silvery-white paint. Bill, KC and Carewyn’s eyes all were very wide as Orion handed the jar to Carewyn.

“I asked a few people where best to locate materials for paints,” he explained. “One man pointed me to a flower that grows at the border called the Moly. He made this paint himself. I don’t think any colors  like this are made and sold at the market, so I thought I would bring along one of his jars for Madam Ali, so she might use it for her next project.”

Carewyn’s light blue eyes were very bright and touched as she looked up at Orion.

“Orion...it’s wonderful,” she said, her soft voice incredibly warm. “Badeea will love it.”

“You said he used the Moly?” asked KC, as she took the jar from Carewyn and looked at it. “Maybe Badeea could mix up some more paint of her own, then.”

Bill glanced at Orion with a raised eyebrow. “Or the Crown could simply buy it from the vendor who sold you that paint.”

Carewyn noticed a strange, almost skittish glint flicker through Orion’s eye.

“...I’m afraid that jar was a favor, not a purchase,” he said softly.

“I think Badeea would be fine with making her own, Bill,” Carewyn said firmly. “The Crown wouldn’t want to set aside extra money for materials anyway. It’d be a lot cheaper to make a paint like that in house than to buy it from someone else.”

Despite his frown, Bill nonetheless sighed and nodded. “...True. Charlie’s needed a new set of scratch awls for ages.”

Orion looked pleased. “I’m glad I could be of assistance.”

“Perhaps the next time you want to see Carewyn, you might figure out a way to do it that doesn’t require you scaling walls like a prowler,” said KC amusedly.

Carewyn shot KC a slightly reproachful look. Orion’s muted smile rather resembled that of a satisfied house cat.

“I’d be happy to arrange more regular meetings outside the palace, if Lady Cromwell would be open to it,” he said, his black eyes sparkling as he glanced at Carewyn.

Carewyn raised her eyebrows coolly at him. “Once again, Mr. Freeman, you seem to have an unusual amount of freedom, if you’re able to consider allocating time just to meet me.”

Her lips then spread in a wry smile.

“Still...I can hardly sit by and let you get arrested for trespassing on my account. I have some time available late tomorrow morning, before noon. I could meet you by the gate then.”

Orion grinned. “I’ll look forward to it, my lady.”

[kryptsune]

Till Death Do You Part {Part 1} (UF Frans)

🌼Hummm I wonder why this is getting reposted with fully new edits. Could there be a reason I wonder?~ 

It was common for a girl such as herself to be betrothed to another even if she didn't know of him truly. A frightening prospect to promise your life to someone you had never met. Someone she knew so little of. Tonight was the night that they would meet and speak weeks before they would pledge themselves to one another. Just thinking about it made her nervous, hands fiddling with the fabric of her dress gently. Any moment now. 

 She was made up to look the most beautiful she had ever before but even then she was anxious, a shy and timid thing. Her auburn hair was styled in ringlets by her face amongst the bright ruby of a satin dress. Why had her father arranged such a thing? Wasn’t love the most important feeling? What if that was a luxury should would never be able to afford?

The young Lord yawned as he adjusted his cufflinks, going through the motions as always. He figured she would be just another pretty face, no mind to stimulate him, "I give her a month..." he murmured to himself before setting out for his first meeting. She was pretty, of course, and he always played the handsome and charismatic young suitor, "You must be the oh so lovely Lady Frisk."

Frisk didn't know who or what to expect as she twirled slowly to see whose baritone voice was addressing her. Was this him? The young lady picked up her dress taking a little curtsey out of respect. It was the proper greeting for a lady, "Yes Sire, though such flattery is not necessary. Frisk will do just fine." She had beautiful sparkling blue eyes like dazzling sapphires and a smile warm like the first rays of the morning sun.

She watched as he took a sweeping bow, "I would be your betrothed, Lord Red Fontaine." His hand extended out to her desiring the feeling of her own, "My... your beauty is astounding, I do not flatter my dear, there's no necessity for it.” 

Well, he certainly was the charmer, “Forgive me, my Lord. I was uncertain and a lady should never assume. I thank you but I must confess my own thoughts on the matter, beauty only runs so deep. There are far more important qualities in a person.” She gingerly slipped her hand into his own. This was a gesture that most male suitors practiced at the time. The true test for her was his reaction to her confession. 

He lifted that dainty pale hand, brushing his lips over the skin. A smile pulled at the corner of his mouth as he laid on his almost supernatural charm, "Quite right my dear. Beauty fades overtime, but the mind...oh the mind is wondrous in what it can do...It is a true rarity to find both qualities." She was different from the other pretty faces he had charmed over the centuries. Something told him this was going to be quite interesting. 

Most men she had conversed with wanted dull and shallow girls, all things which she was not. That gentle kiss he laid on her hand did cause her cheeks to warm in a sweet pink glow, “Such a refreshing perspective my Lord. I am used to dulling the mind in pursuit of shallow appeals. As you can see I do not hold my tongue.” It was better, to be honest about who she was then proclaim a temperament that she could not uphold.

He could not contain the smirk that twisted his mouth, perhaps she would prove to be a challenge nearly after 400 plus years, "Indeed, I too find your outlook refreshing. It's so rare to see a young lady of the times actually use the mind they possess." His voice was soft as he pulled her closer to him.

Cobalt eyes locked with his as she was brought close enough to feel the velvet of his suit. She considered him swoon-worthy, a gentleman, and he agreed with her view of intellectual stimulation. A rarity if she ever knew one. Her nerves fluttered away, “It is unfortunate. I hope that I do not disappoint. I must confess my nerves have been keeping my attention all day until this point."

One of her many distinguishing features were those eyes that held a vibrancy to them that he hadn’t seen in all his centuries, "As they should... After all, women are expected to bow and behave for their men." He gave a boisterous laugh and waved a hand dismissively, "Bah with that. I want my bride to be herself. Something I suspect you'll do, won't you?"

She seemed like such a sweet little thing. Usually, the ones he chose were vain or dim-witted. They jumped on him as soon as they saw his looks but not her, "A good mindset to have my dear, come let us take a walk and speak more." All he got was that sweet smile and those gemstone eyes filled with newfound curiosity and excitement, “I can only ever be true to myself, my Lord. Nothing more.”

He smiled at her agreement, endeavouring to know her fully and of course more playing to what she liked, but he found he had to lie less around her, "Truly, I've had a wonderful time my dear. I look forward to our wedding and future life."

Frisk was the happiest she had ever been because of his genuineness. She wasn’t quite sure if she loved him but he made her smile and treated her like a human being, not just some prize to be won or a doll to display, “As do I.” That genuine smile practically caused her face to glow.

He kissed her forehead chastely knowing full well he had to play his hand sweetly for now. The young bride to be couldn’t deny his sweet forehead kiss was enough to melt her as his hand slipped from hers. There was no doubt that she was smitten with him. His voice was that baritone that would cause one’s knees to weaken, "Wondrous my dear, I shall see you quite soon~"

As he always intended of course. He left her soon after dropping her off back at her home, slipping into the shadows as he returned to his own estate. His mind wandered as he strolled past the lamps posted at every street corner, their flames bright behind their glass cases. As with every game they played he would relay his findings to his two older brothers. They would exchange their progress and in turn joke about their victim’s coming demise.

His return home prompted a sit down by the roaring fire and a glass of wine as he let them speak. Carthus, the second eldest, reclined upon the ornate fainting couch that rested to the right of the main sitting area. The eldest, Gered, took a seat to his right.

The conversation left him at odds even as he barely processed to the words that slipped from his mouth. His two brothers on the other hand reveled in the drab game they had been toying with for more lifetimes than he cared to count.

Carthus smugly teased his younger brother with her potential thoughts of him as the moon rose to cast its silver light upon the land. The beams slipped through windows casting a somewhat eerie glow within the room. He of course had no such worries of the dark but what about her? He could just hear his brothers mockery about how hypnotized by him she probably was, "Honestly brother what do you think she will taste like?~" 

Despite his emotional confusion he placed a smirk on his face, leaning back, and taking a sip from the wine glass cradled in between his fingers, "She is rather spirited and I believe pure as well. A rarity. It did not take much to have her wrapped around my finger, brother, but you are well aware of what I am capable of." The smirk forced on his lips grew as he spoke, “I believe this time that the game shall be won by me. My bride to be will be easy to please~”

Gered chuckled from his place closest to the flames, "We shall certainly see. I cannot wait to see how this game will come to a close... of course, we shall see how our lovely ladies stack up when the time comes to evaluate."

Carthus was back to his teasing, leaning forward to make a point of it, "I cannot wait to see the look on her face when she finds out what you really are in her last moments of life." It caused him to pause. What would she think of him regardless of the outcome? No mortal had survived to tell others about the brothers. They usually lasted a few months once the wedding vows were finished.

He cleared his throat to respond to his brother’s rather sadistic humor, "Oh it will be quite sweet I assure you." The three laughed in unison as they toasted to their manipulative vice, “Their faces are always precious right before you devour them~" If he was honest he did not even remember most of them. They were a meal and nothing more. Those blue eyes, however, stuck with him even now.

The following day he would meet with her again though the visit was more of a surprise to her. He found her lounging beneath the shade of an old tree and drawing silently. A few sticks of charcoal were scattered about the lush grasses at her feet. 

He put on his best smile as he drew a single red rose from his coat pocket and dangled it in front of her sight, "Good morning my dear one."

She blinked in surprise, that soft flush painting her cheeks, "Good morning. You took me by surprise for a moment. I am overjoyed to see you again so soon." Truly she never felt so affectionate toward another before. Her smile only grew when he took a seat beside her, "As am I my dear, I simply could not wait to see you once more."

Though her joy was genuine she still retained doubts in her mind. The idea of an arranged union was not one that usually ended happily. She gently set her book aside as she smiled at him sadly, "Is such a thing true? I wish for you to be honest with me and I shall do the same.”

Red inclined his head for a moment before brushing his fingers over the soft, cool skin of her shoulder only to find a strand of long auburn hair to toy with, "I am being honest with you my dear, that certainly seems an odd request. Do you think I am only telling you sweet words that you expect to hear?" That was exactly what he was supposed to be doing. 

Frisk looked out over the water as her pink lips curled upward. A smile but one filled with sadness. He had rarely seen such an expression on such a pretty face before, “I apologize. I must keep a healthy skepticism. My heart flutters when you are near and yet it feels too good to be true.” Maybe that was because it was.

How to assuage her concerns? He truly did not know how to do so since he was the root of the deception, "Ahh I see." His back came to rest on the tree behind him as he made himself more comfortable, "I can see why... to potentially find one that we belong with. It's an amazing feeling I think. It truly feels as if nothing else matters."

The look still painted on her face gave off that aura of doubt. He could usually sweet-talk his way out of anything but she was far too sharp to fall too easily for his floral language and sweet promises. Her eyes now remained trained on the ground, “I fear I do not deserve something so wonderful.”

A comment like that shocked him. It was baffling, "why ever not my dear?" Curiosity swam within his eyes as he moved to tilt her chin up. What a sweet and pretty thing she was, so fragile and yet so strong at the same time.

“I am cursed for what runs in my blood is dark. A power unnatural and forbidden.”

A curious response, "Oh? What might that be my dear?" Forbidden? Dark? Unnatural? What could she possibly harbor that would lead her to believe that she deserved ill-fortune? The irony was that he was the worst omen she could have possibly received. 

Her lips parted as she kept her attention on her betrothed, letting the word linger on the soft breeze that lifted her hair, “magic.”

A mortal with access to magic? A mage? A witch? She was rare indeed in more ways than he originally anticipated. Perhaps that was why he had been drawn to her, "Magic?" His tone housed a sufficient amount of curiosity and he wondered if now he had to be more careful. If the power of the mages slept within her blood then even his own abilities may not work on her. 

She nodded softly, “Yes. It’s a part of me and it feels right and beautiful but... it’s known as something evil.” A lie she had been told nearly the entirety of her life.

As an immortal being infected by dark magic himself he knew that all too well. His past was far from joyous, "Magic.. is one of those things people will..." He sighed pulling her closer to him. How much would he be able to tell her without implicating his rather... bloodthirsty condition? She deserved some form of comfort, "The things that people do not fully understand become a threat. Even if such a thing is no more harmful than the smallest butterfly.”

He truly understood her even better than she could have hoped, “Something that they do not understand they seek to destroy or punish. Even something frightening does not mean it is evil or has ill intentions.” Her eyes fluttered open as her hands began to glow softly, when she opened them there was a small illuminated blue flower nestled in the center of her palm.

He smiled, letting a gentle finger stroke one of the magical petals, "Magic can be beautiful... It can be deadly. It is like a sword. It depends upon how you use it."

Her cheeks darkened further as he spoke, "That is what I believe as well. It is hard to try and hide who I truly am. I fear no one would understand or be afraid of me. It's why no one truly knows but when I am around you I feel as though I can speak my truth. Forgive me."

His hands reached for hers closing them around that luminescent blossom, "There is no need for forgiveness my dear. You need not hide anything of yourself from me. For I hide nothing from you." He smiled at her. Why did he care what she thought?

She scooted a little closer to him as his arm came to wrap around her as he held her closer to him. That gentle breeze soothed her as she enjoyed the afternoon. He would be able to feel how much joy she got from just being in his company, "I have been very lucky. Perhaps this is not a curse after all.”

He had a desire to say more but he kept his words simple, comforting, “Of course it is not. It is a natural part of you that should be nurtured not diminished. You shall never have to fear such judgment from me.” For I am something far worse.

Frisk rested her head gently against his shoulder feeling free from whatever chains kept her prisoner before, “I know. No one has ever looked at me the way you do it’s...” She toyed with the hands resting in her lap, “Nice to know you accept me for who I am.”

He smiled. "Of course I will Frisk. You are quite wonderful.”

She rested there in silence with him. It was so peaceful and all the following days were the same. They both began to know each other better just by speaking their minds. She even practiced some magic when they were alone so that she no longer lived in fear of it.

When the day of the wedding arrived everything seemed to go by smoothly. She had been nervous at first but the moment she said "I do" he could see it was one of the happiest moments of her life.

In the depths of his mind, he thought it was the dumbest choice she could ever have made, but his face remained with an overjoyed smile, exactly what was expected.

Even...perhaps...

When he pulled her toward him for the kiss that would seal their vows, he felt something. This was far more than just a childish game of superiority. She could be different and then this wretched cycle could end. 

Until death do us part

There was only one problem...

Death... had already parted them…

[aggresivelyfriendly]

Tryst-Chapter 10

I did it! I finally edited this thing. Still not completely happy, but they are, so 🤷‍♀️s! If you enjoy let me know. I love a like, reblogs are love, and anons are lifeblood! 😘!!

Tam

Inglewood

There seems to be an equilibrium they have reached, Helene decided one balmy afternoon home alone of her tiny apartment patio. She pictured it like a piece of a Johnny Cash song, them walking the golden line in the middle of U.S. streets. If they were to veer either way the emotional equivalent of oncoming traffic would flatten them.

Though she supposed that line felt pretty roomy, like an estate broker's favorite word, spacious.

Maybe it's a tightrope, and any imbalance means they smash upon the hard, unforgiving ground.

Helene had convinced herself that this was her own conception, that her lover, her boss, her Harry, didn't feel it as well.

Until she heard the album.

She'd been at the Paris listening parties, so she'd heard snippets, and she'd been in the studio a time or two, so she had heard rough stones being polished to diamonds, chord progressions and roughed out lyrics and melodies. That was all up until this point.

Helene was offered a choice, the whole of staff was, to hear the album early or with everyone else.

She had declined. Because she had a very clear picture of what it was about, who it was about. It stung. Not because she was unaware of his sorrow, or how he missed her, the other French girl, the one worthy of homage, but because, she had been there too- with him too. Every step of the way and through Paris and Rome, and Japan and Australia too.

It hurt.

As much as her eyes were open, muscle memory of the drill, the words cemented on her brain to console herself. He was in an open relationship, Helene was not in that relationship, she was simply a reason for the unbolted window. Always making cameos, never the headliner.

So, the album, as great as she kept hearing it was, would be confirmation of her role, or lack thereof. She wasn't ready for that truth.

She'd better get ready. Helene would be hearing it soon no matter what, and seeing him. It had been a little bit since Cancun, but the show was going on, and she was involved, expected. It wouldn't do to cry over her lack of lyrical odes in front of the fans, they all knew her name and face, and she wasn't so good a liar they'd believe a disclaimer of happy tears.

Before the first show went on, her own show needed to get on the road. It was time for her to break a leg, or her heart as it were. Her set up was optimal for a breakdown.

Empty hotel room, qui Tissues on the toilet seat, qui Full hot bath, qui Goblet of red wine, tout a fait.

Helene was as ready for heartbreak, or it's residue if that's where she was now, as ready as one can be.

Her clothes are easy to quit, sweats and a TPWK tank exclusive to crew. The water is hot, her skin will redden to match her tear streaked face.

The level of melodrama she's reaching for this is impressive to even herself.

"Allons-y" she mutters and presses play.

And Clairemeant, she loves it. From first cord, she can imagine being in his stupid convertible driving to Shanghri la. Helene wishes he had played this when they went, a moment of California dreamin. She knows the next couple, as everyone does, in his world at least. Soon the whole world probably. They were radio besties, not just friendly.

It's the next few tracks where her preparations pay off. The tears come. For him, for her, and for Helene herself. The worst part isn't even her own pain; the waterworks are for Harry. She can hear his broken heart and bad decisions.

God, she hopes he does not count her among those.

But She, She is a new place to be. It's exactly what she would expect him to make and miles beyond expectation.

Then Sunflower, god, is it ridiculous to feel like there are glimmers of them? If kraft services counted as kitchens. It's the toothpaste. It's the fact that on their first go, they didn't know each other. Not really. She was his employee. She knew him, intimately, from all the watching, much less creepy than it sounds when it was her job. But she was somewhere between an insider and an outsider. Always an observer, never a participant was the lot of a photographer.

Except when Harry pulled her into the shenanigans, onto his lap, or some other harmless flirty gesture she couldn't forget.

Helene never lived in a canyon, though all of Paris seemed to rise around her some days. That one was nothing to do with her, and after a couple songs reprieve her heart seized all over again.

Helene loved that he'd made a song for his motto. It had all the silly he made cool. Even if he broke her heart sometimes, she loved how her kindness grew watching him cultivate and sow his own. The harvest was in the venues, and her heart.

After that happy high, she's not ready for the closer. Though she suspects she may never have been, no matter practice or preparation.

Fine Line throws her, thrills her, and makes her think.

Is it her? Is it them? Is it like most of the rest,  Camille?

Helene is aware she is simplifying. Music isn't exactly clear in its inspiration or intention. There may be shades of her throughout.

In this last song, she feels more than shades.

Had they ever been anything besides a fine line? Somewhere between one thing and the next.

She hesitates to think something more, that denigrates their friendship. Romance isn't necessarily superior, that's a bought and sold fairy tale she has tried to unlearn.

But, if she is honest, being together would have felt like more, better. Because she wanted him, wanted him to want her.

Some of the lyrics trouble her.

She didn't think she was unknowable though. Maybe at the end, when she let him open her completely everywhere, and then promptly hopped over into one territory and only tread their old familiar line  accidentally once.

Could she ask him? Would she? Tomorrow?

Non, that's not like her. Helene's direct in desire, but not in definition. Probably why they got stuck walking the line.

But they were alright. What a comfort that was.

Whatever the truth, the inspiration, when she heard it live, tomorrow, she would pretend or hyperextend. Believe. She'd believe it was about her.

———————————————————————————

Helene always forgets what it's like to see his face in person, be in a room with him. On paper and in her mind when she is away, she can rationalize. 'He's handsome. But not extraordinary. You know better looking men, have shared more time with some.'

And then he is nearby, and her entire body is aware of him.

Moreover, so is everyone elses. That is his power, super prowess. He has this energy that galvanizes every libido in range. The hell of it, it turns on a dime and you want to ruffle his hair just after riding his face. He's so sexy and frustratingly endearing.

His gap between adorable and sexy is so small, and bowtied to perfection.

"What's new pussycat?" He whispers near her left shoulder before she can even fully take him in.

"Enfin!" She could see the rear of her brain case. Harry turned her body into his hug and was responding to her exaggerated exclamation.

"See Jeffrey, I told you she had the best eye roll!" He giggles a bit and holds her long, in that way anybody else probably couldn't get away with. Someone might rightly think they'd tasted every part of one another if he didn't hold everybody like this.

Helene takes the opportunity to smell him. He always smells good to her, even his stink. Sweat drenched and ball's empty or dandied up and stage worthy, he tasted like her first meal out when she returns home to Paris.

" I cannot believe you remember that conversation." She said into his neck.

It quelled his laughter.

"How could I forget the look of disgust on you and Sarah's faces. Too good to not use!"

"You gonna use it on Sarah too? Or would Mitch put your nose between your pretty eyebrows?"

"Don't mock my eyebrows!" He pulls back, but she's still within the walls of his body, bracketed by his arms. "They just grow like this."

"Qui," she snorted. "Don't forever I've photographed you being groomed, ma belle."

"She's  just cleaning them up! I swear."

"She just took your man card Harry." Jeff 's snickering.

"He didn't have a man card since long ago." She and Jeff laugh together.

"Heeeey!" His offended face goes soft around his smiling eyes. He tilts her body away from the small backstage crowd and she wonders where they are going. She's still going; her toes have all but left the ground while he leads her with his whole body.

She follows her heart.

Helene always feels small, but he makes her feel deliciously tiny. He leads her down a corridor, past people he waves to and she would have stopped to hug in other circumstances. She'd missed this circus family. Finally, she just has to ask, "Harry, where are we going? I don't have my equipment." If he wanted her to capture the moment, she needed a camera. He did this sometimes, this drag to a piece of personal history or set up he saw well in his mind's eye. His enthusiasm always contagious.

He didn't exactly have that energy going on now, he seemed nervous rather than excited.

"That's a bit unfortunate. S'ok though I only want a mental picture of your face. When you tell me." He pulls her through a door, a different dressing room from last time, which she realizes upon entry is actually an office.

"Where are we?" Helene asks as he positions himself between her and the door like she might make a break for it.

"Irving's office." He explains off hand. "Now tell me, what' d you think?"

"Quoi?" She can feel the screw of her face to the left. She has no idea what he could mean, she'd been so busy keeping up with his footsteps, she had no idea what he was on mentally. They didn't always connect easily, he wasn't always an open book, but she'd figured out how to crack him a time or two. It was easier with a camera at her eye, or both of them naked.

"Of the album, my album." He pinches his bottom lip and wrings his hands a tad.

"The album?" Her brain's slow. Why were they talking about this?

"You' re the only one who hasn't text me, or responded. That's included I mean."

"Included?" What?

"Please stop repeating me in one word questions, Helene!" He looks up and blows out a breath. "Did you like it? Are you upset?"

"Upset?"

"Helene!"

"Harry, lower your voice."

"Apologies." He takes her hand. "Now, did you like it?"

Ah, it was easy to forget how praise was like water on a neglected plant to him. He just wanted assurance that her love of his work would fill her photos again.

"Qui, clairement, it's gorgeous."

"And?" He looks, she couldn't quite place it, Like a puppy trying to sneak into your bed. Hopeful but preemptively scolded.

"And?" She opens her palms to him, subconsciously trying to release his nerves about whatever he's asking her opinion of.

"Did you hear it? At all." He rolls his eyes, but it was so clearly at himself that Helene takes no offense. "Hear us I mean?"

"I didn't want to presume." She starts after a pregnant pause.

"Presume, tournesol, presume." He leans close and she can really smell him. Not pungent like Mexico after hours of sun, or after a night on stage. But, days lazing or loitering in Italy under warm skies.

She shakes her head at him. She felt a spark of recognition that she'd classified as hope during that song, but, "that one is not all me."

"No, not entirely. It is an idea, a feeling fleshed out, but an ode none the less." He assures her, all eye contact and vulnerability.

He's closer now, enough to touch. And she could have? Would, but she had a more important question, a deeper song to address. Though she had to admit, most days Sunflower was her favorite. "Am I in any others?"

"Glimpses. Though one is mostly you." He gives her an encouraging smile, mischief around its edges.

She sucks in a breath. She really wants to know, she's become so much more that she was since she met him. Braver, kinder, richer in many ways. Could she be direct as well? What would Dominique, her most forward friend, do? "And the ending. That feels like a beginning?"

"Fine line?" His dimple's out. Helene might feel upset that he's a cat and she's the mouse if he wasn't a Tom to her Jerry.

"Qui, fine line?" If she just lifts her hand, his jaw will fit just so, always has., or the beautiful curve of his shoulder.

"That one," he's smiling like the time he presented her cake on her birthday. "I realized in Mexico is you!"

"Not until Mexico?" Now she didn't want to touch him, not even his fine shoulder.

"I knew while writing, the glimpses of you, but only one part was, her, was" he swallowed. She hoped it wasn't still pain slicing his throat as he forced the feeling down. She'd even take regret. "Camille" he took her hand. More friendly than the conversation. "The rest, the hope, is you." The nerves were foreign to him when he was with her, he didn't wear them well, his only awkward fit.

Helene let's her eyes fall closed while his breath wafts over her face. That was more Harry. The taste of caffeinated mint. The familiarity messes with her head, it's a bit false but never forced.

She wants to accept his compliment, even though he's undercut it with an inconvenient truth. Their relationship was not one. They were friends, they slept together sometimes, he was her boss and her muse. But they were never together, and  "that's nice, Harry, but, forgive me if it seems, well convenient."

"Convenient?" Oh, his brows are as tangled as his growing curls. Damn him.

"Me belle, it's hard not to notice who is not here, but everywhere on the album." He narrows his eyes in response to her observation. "And I also have someone else to call baby."

"You're with someone?" His pretty brows nearly touch above his nose.

"Qui." It was a bit of a stretch, really. A man she is dating, fucks occasionally. They're not exclusive, and she likes him, Rene, but no more has developed With anybody else, since she gave Harry Carte Blanche with her body. She had liked him, them, a few of them, thought they had potential. She supposed they still did, it just hadn't developed. Helene has never pushed them down the hill.

It hadn't stopped her from being with Harry in Mexico.

Helene talks about him now, hoping it will slow down the ball rolling from the top of the hill in Harry's mind. If he'a just realized he wrote about her and still believed sharing that notion just after she spent several hours marveling, begrudgingly, over his words to another woman, her clothes would fall off over one song for herself, well, he might be right. But she needed some kind of defense mechanism.

She's lacking a chastity belt, Rene's specter would have to do.

"How long?" He asks quietly.

"A bit." She wasn't going to give him details. That was showing him the chinks in her honor.

"Oh, ok, well, that's good." He clears his throat, looks at her with murky eyes. "I'm happy for you."

"I'm happy for you, as well." She hugs him, to touch him and reassure him. "This album, tour, will be a great success."

"Yeah, yeah." He says trying to believe it. "Now that it's out there, I hope so. But we are going to make it fun. You up for some fun, Helene? This time out?"

She's  confused, last time was fun, but she supposed her life was changing so fast, she had no grand expectations to carry on her shoulders and no one broke her heart during tour.

That came after. He must be going into this round with a different attitude.

"Yeah, fun sounds good." He high fives her and she can't help but laugh at him. It turns into another hug, and all the distancing she'd done during this conversation ceased when he kissed her flaxen hair.

"Break, break a leg, Harry." He smiles, the nerves making it quiver just a bit as they go their separate ways.

—————————————————————————— The album closer is approaching and Helene is suddenly nervous. Sunflower kinda made her shake, luckily it's such a damn happy jam, her feelings didn't sweep her away. It's already been a magical night, and she knows the magic doesn't end with the album. Harry has some amazement up his pink sleeve.

His outfit had been distracting, not like Paris or Madrid, but it's so pretty and such a cute silhouette. Helene realizes while she is snapping away. It was distracting because she wanted it herself. It might overwhelm her small frame, but that pink would look good on anyone. He might loan it to her, Sarah and Mitch wore his clothes sometimes.

She's at least as close.

Closer.

He says something before he begins, and it's loud so Helene has to translate it twice, figure out his words and then think them in French. The song's started before she realizes he's said its a difficult song to perform for the first time.

She can't put her finger on why, but she feels for him, for herself. Her brow is knit up like that time she tried to make a Christmas scarf and the little piece of her heart she took back from him breaks free from its stitches and goes to him, right where he stands on his big stage.

The music starts and it's the build that gets her. Just like the first time. She admits she listened to this one repeatedly, Listen one- physical experience, listen two- listening for the glimpses she thought she had caught of herself. Listen three- cry time.

Helene does not want to weep, but it seems she might be in good company. Harry's doing his closed eyes thing. She teased him about that onetime.

"Is it easier to hear how good you are if you close your eyes?" She'd asked this from the head of the bed while he lay across the bottom rubbing her feet.

"What?"

She supposed it was a nonsequiter. "When you sing and when you fuck, you close your eyes sometimes. Is it so you can focus on the screaming?" She pushed him with her foot and gave him a flirtatious smile.

"I don't need to hear the screams to know I'm good." He'd smirked at her and she would have kicked him off the expensive high hotel bed, but he continued too quickly, "To be honest," oh he was serious now, "It's when I get emotional. Or I need to focus."

"Like to hit a note?" She likes his explanation. He keeps his eyes closed sometimes when he's inside her. She hopes that, she, makes him feel; she's too afraid to ask him about that though.

"Or to make you hit a note!" He'd dropped his emotional temperature quickly, grinned and tackled her. "Let's see if we can get you to a G7!"

She did not hit any whistle notes, her orgasm had actually been pretty silent, but the build up had been harmonious.

The conversation came back to her now. His eyes were definitely closed, as they had been during Falling, and a few other times. But, he'd said this was hers, theirs, and he seemed to be feeling, if her memory served, and she remembered so much about Harry, she trusted it.

And then, as her eyes are unquestionably about to spill over to wet the forum floor with her fellow Harry fans, his open. They find her like he's been tracking her all night, and that may be true, though that is more her job, to always be aware of him and his location. But she's rooted there now. She may never leave this spot, Because there is emotion in his eyes, it's not humid like hers, but it's intense.

He eventually shifts to connect with a paying customer, but Helene is a mess. She has to go back stage to collect herself.

She almost misses Stevie, and even if he wrote songs about her, Helene is fairly certain she would get fired for that. The rest of the show is a blur. She snaps it by muscle memory.

Helene also doesn't stay for the after party, it's all to much. It's a departure from her normal behavior, she would almost always stay, with her camera, and to be with everybody. Tonight she's planned to. She missed them dearly, she just couldn't after that moment.

Harry doesn't have that luxury, it's his party, which is why he doesn't knock on her hotel room door until 3am.

She thought she'd got away with it.

Helene's still awake, barely, and when she answers the door, she knows she's mussed. He's seen her like this before, he's caused it. She's too tired to care much.

"Harry," she sighs. "It's late, Cherie."

"You left, and I needed to talk to you." He walks in like he owns the place. She supposes he did pay for it. He just turns to look at her, and if she didn't already feel exhausted beyond measure, those eyes on her may have sparked the fire he lit long ago in her belly.

"Go ahead." The sooner he unburdens himself the better, she looks longingly at her bed.

And then he just sighs and says, "are we?"

She's doubts the face she makes is attractive, "are we what?"

"Alright? Are we alright?"

God, that's a major question. What they are is a shadow of existence, some half way place between what they could have been, what they should be, and then what they are. It a very strange set of loops, like the comparison charts from school. They are colleagues, no doubt, friends, thankfully, and lovers, occasionally. Do any of those designations mean they are alright?

Because she doesn't want occasional lovers. She's put distance between them because she wants more. Halfway is not alright to her.

"Helene?" Oh, she's just been biting her lip this entire time. She really wants to go to bed, but, they should get this done before tour. Does she tell him she wants to be the dead center of his life, or just leave it at they are alright and go to dreamland.

Either are scary in their own right and he's distracting.

He's wearing comfy clothes, the yellow shirt and large trousers she'd snapped him arriving at the forum in. The shirt hugs his body and it makes it difficult for her to pretend she doesn't want to be really open about her feelings. Sometimes isn't enough, not anymore, maybe not ever.

"Let's sit."

"Uh oh." Harry exhales.

"Uh oh?" She looks up at him.

"Is the next sentence 'we need to talk?'"

"Well, we do, or you wouldn't be here on the wrong side of the sun."

"Fair enough." He sighs and sits back, his head hits the back of the couch. He's stretched out, and her small frame would fit well between his hips and chin. She's tempted to do it, to straddle him. Then the talk won't happen, and all these things will be left up in the air. And she will be narrative adjacent, still.

But she's in his narrative, right? If the song is about her? Is that enough?

So she sits with him. "Harry," she takes his hand and he looks so hopeful. "What does it mean to be alright?" Helene is surprised by her own question. It's direct, perhaps not as direct as it could be. She's unsure what he's asking. Is he asking her for more of the same? Today's same, where they are flirty friends and colleagues. Or the alright of yesterday, where she's his friend and employee with benefit.

That's not alright.

Or does it mean something else, something more. Like the feeling after the build in the music, hopeful, open ended: a chance taken.

He finally yanks his eyes open, and Helene remembers he performed an entire concert and went to an after party. That he is center stage in many peoples life. Is she insane to want to be his locus? Harry opens his mouth, then closes it.

"I guess, I don't know."

Helene nods. It's not a surprise, he just wants harmony and everybody happy. He may not have thought beyond them being ok on the surface. He's not ready for the conversation she thought he was asking about.

"We're fine Harry. You're tired, you should get to bed." She stands to show him to the door,  is suddenly back to wholly exhausted herself.

He's shaking his head.

"Harry's it's 330. We need sleep."

"I didn't like that you left."

"You don't get to make me stay at a party. It's not part of my duties."

He's still shaking his head. "No, I'm not saying this right. It's not alright."

"What isn't?" God, she's frustrated, wants him to be clear.

"That you don't want to be around me. I miss you." Well that's obvious for him, and wrong.

She closes her eyes. "Did you ever consider, maybe it's that I want to be around you too much."

"What do you mean?" He looks puzzled but there is light around his eyes, blue skies and clouds.

She sighs. Someone has to be vulnerable, Might as well be her. She knows how straightforward he just was must pain him. "I mean, I don't want to be with you at the party," he's cringing. "well, not just." She takes a fortifying breath. "I miss you too, but I miss what we could have been as well. And I can't," she could do this. "I can't just sleep with you when you are feeling lonely anymore. We are either friends or we are more. It's not fair to me. I can't walk the fine line anymore."

He's looking at their interlaced fingers. A drop hits her hand.

"Harry?"

"I'm sorry." He whispers

Her heart breaks. He doesn't want this. She tries to take her hand from his. Dammit, why did they have to do this in her room? She can't run away now.

"No, no." He looks  up. Why's he sad when she's getting rejected? "I'm sorry I took you for granted, or made you feel like you were my second choice."

She'd not said that.

"I can read between your lines, Helene." He touches her cheek. "I had feelings for you, but I was already with Camille. And then, I was mourning. And it takes me bloody ages."

She wants to role her eyes. She supposes it's kinda true, but he was mourning his rejection.

"I've realized since then, my heart was bruised, but my ego was what got broken. And I wasn't in a place to offer you anything. Not until Mexico, but then things just got busy and we didn't talk."

"We never do." She purses her lips.

"We need to." He holds her chin in his hands. "So, I'm asking. Will you cross the line with me?"

God, her heart is swelling, and she's afraid to look at his face. Is he really asking what she is hearing? "Harry, amor, what does that mean? I can't speak in metaphors." She can, but it's trouble with him. He's a metaphor himself with his figurative edges and blurred meanings.

He sighs, chuckles to himself, and lets go of her hand. He cups her face and draws her eyes up to the tide pools of his. The tides in, he's teary. "I want to do it together, not have you cross the line hoping I follow, or me waiting on the side for you thinking you understood what I was asking for. But together."

She huffs, she stilll, always, doesn't know what the fuck he is talking about. "What line Harry?" She assumes when someone is holding your face gently you shouldn't be yelling in their face in return, but he is so frustrating. "I still don't know what you are saying."

He laughs at himself, or at her, or them. "I'm saying, we should do this, you and me. Like a real relationship. Not just when we are together on tour or meeting up for me to work. But you come home with me to London, or Malibu, or wherever. Or I go with you to Paris, and we don't leave."

"Are you suggesting we move in together?" She's smiling, finally. The edges of her lips would be at her  earlobes if they could be. "You may want to ask me to be your girlfriend first."

"We've been moving at a glacial pace for years. But that's not really what I meant—"

"I know." She shakes her head fondly. "So?"

"So-" he takes a big breath. "Will you be my girlfriend, Helene?"

Oh god, this is what it feels like to look at the sun. To be the sun. "Yes!" It's a whisper, but full of emotion if not voice.

She's not sure why she is so overcome by it that she can't speak, but she can move, she's straddling his lap a moment later.

He laughs, "it's hard to kiss you when you are giggling." But he's vibrating along with her and his bunny teeth clack against hers just as much. His hand is in her hair and it's not until it slides down to cup her jaw that she can't laugh anymore.

Not when he is looking at her like that. His heart is in his eyes and her face is in his hands. Harry's eyes always sparkle, but the combination of mirth and awe shakes her like an earthquake.

The kiss goes better then, or it more closely resembles a kiss, in that their lips form to one another, going from right angle to straight line to acute in time. His tongue has always been devilish and she wonders if it's vocal training that renders it so.

She's more vocal than him, as always, and she's panting his name when his hand engulfs her throat before sliding her silk pajama top off her shoulder to kiss her neck, collarbones, the tops of her breasts. Her nipples stand high on her plum sized mounds and they always trill along the roof of his mouth deliciously. His other hand is around her hip and he's gripping it fiercely to move her over him.

She's halfway there on his question alone, but their venue seems a bit uncomfortable. Helene almost reconsiders her position on their positioning when Harry has that perfect mouth between her breasts and below and the back of the couch is perfect to hold onto while she arches back, back, back. She's bent in two when he pulls her up to his mouth.

This time she is getting his teeth. Why's he giggling again, this is serious business? If she could just concentrate, get him to focus for a moment, she can have her first orgasm of the night.

"Harry, Cherie." She tríes again, her tongue ready to slide over his lips and into that pattern that makes her shiver when his teeth block her again. "Please kiss me!" She's frustrated.

"I was going to ask you if you wanted to move to the bedroom, girlfriend, but you're very focused." He's still smiling and her ire melts at the appellation.

Does she want to go to the bedroom? She won't have the back of the couch to hold onto, but she will have Harry.

She stands and drops her loose shorts. As is usual, Harry has most of his clothes on and she's suited up for her birthday.

"Alright." He breathes and she's in his arms and he's finally giving her the tonguing she loves en route. Her in the altogether seems to have finally got him from mirth to girth, pressing against her and filling the void at the apex of her thighs the way only he has.

She's happy Harry seems to have been enjoying their bodily arrangement as much as she is, when he sits on the side of the bed and maneuvers to the middle with her still draped around his waist. He's said before he loves how maneuverable she is, and she is loving her tiny stature at the moment too.

Her hands are pulling his t shirt free and tossing it away. She loves the golden hue of his skin, he's always a little tan, even in winter. The milk and honey of their bodies against one another always delights her. She goes for the button on the jeans she'd like for herself. They won't fit her, but he always fits, snug at first and then just right.

He kicks them free and then she's back on top of him doing the wiggle to get his inside her, pressing over the largest part before the pressure keeps up and then everything slips into place, the audible pop of his tip still her favorite part.

They both exhale, and smile into each other's eyes. Helene touches the corner of his eyes and they twinkle back at her. "Hi boyfriend."

He chuckles and she moans over the tiny vibration it causes. "You're ready then?"

He already knows the answer to this question. Helene braces her hand behind her while she nods and then his hand is beneath her ass flexing her pelvis over his own.

He really is her prince of rock and roll. She rolls up over him and rocks over his dick until he's closing his eyes and drilling her hips. He's split her open, bottom up and it's intense.

"Give me a minute." He chokes after less time than she expected.

"Too much?" She likes that the shoe is on the other foot, usually she needs a break from his unrelenting physicality, Harry the athlete in the bedroom as well.

She supposed it takes emotion to force Harry to a quick release.

She's keeps flexing around him until he puts his head to her collarbone and then looks up to glare at her. "You're walking a fine line!" He says before he laughs at his own joke.

"I'm not waking anywhere. I'm loving you." She let's that sit there while her hips are quiet. That's all she's going to say about that. He stares at her intensely.

"Let me see you love me, then." She likes when he gives orders, even when their sex is closers to making love than fucking.

Helene obliges him, caves her belly back and starts the ride again, notches her head next to his, like the teeth of zipper, so she can watch with him.

It gets her there, but he's a little ahead of her. He's stilling her hips again. "Stop." It's a beg.

"Just come bebe." She whispers into his sweaty skin.

"You're not ready." He protests.

"We have all night, you can spread me open, all. night. and all day tomorrow, and after." She smiles at him. "All the time in the world to know me!"

"Yeah?" He's gleeful like a kid finding tooth fairy money.

She nods and starts moving, directs his gaze down. The edge of pleasure closer than she expects. Harry is rarely wrong about pleasure. Helene's happy her climb surprises them both.

She reaches the peak and plummets with him on the rollercoaster of emotions tonight's brought. Screams with the thrill.

It's more than fine, the white light explosion behind her eyelids. They've found the right side of the line.

They'll be alright.

[thestuffedalligator]

The Scholar of Gondor

There was a day’s travel between Undertowers and Hobbiton.

This was less a consequence of the actual distance between the two and more the fault of the state of the road. Namely, there wasn’t one. Thirty-five years of carts had carved two long furrows through the hilly lowlands, and these looped and turned around the hills like a very bored giant had spent an afternoon trailing its fingers through the dirt to make interesting designs. It was generally understood that a road was going to be built eventually, and in the meantime the Westmarch-hobbits and the Old-Shire-hobbits came to enjoy the distance from each other.

But gossip in the Shire never seemed to actually follow the roads. It soared on the open wind, travelling as the crow flies, so what was news in Undertowers somehow became known in Hobbiton in a matter of hours. If it was particularly scandalous gossip, it made the trip in minutes. When Fíriel Fairbairn was caught snogging Donnamira Brandybuck two Yules ago, it had spread across the Shire so quickly that it had reached back to Donnamira a full two minutes before it had actually happened. By that point the two decided that, what the hell, best not to tempt a paradox, and ducked into a parlor closet.

News about the Scholar of Gondor reached Hobbiton a full thirty minutes after the Scholar’s horse clattered to a stop in Undertowers.

This was news because it had been a full sixty years since King Elessar had declared Men as forbidden from entering the Shire. And what was worse, this human had been permitted entry into the Shire upon the orders of King Elessar himself. Worse still, the Fairbairns were apparently allowing it to stay in their home.

This was just too much for the Old-Shire-hobbits. Why couldn’t the Big Folk keep to their own and leave us in peace? And on Elessar’s orders, no less. What did Elessar think he was?  King? As for staying with the Fairbairns, well -

Most hobbits stopped at that. Well. You just didn’t talk about that sort of thing.

***

Fíriel “Sharkey” Fairbairn - a nickname she had picked up by general acclaim somewhere in her tweens - was doing her own research in her family’s library. This mainly consisted of pretending to read Herblore of the Shire while trying to inconspicuously stare at the Scholar of Gondor.

She was, Sharkey decided, rather pretty in a tall sort of way, all dark, wavy hair and brown face. If she was wearing a leather tunic and hunting spiders in the forest, she’d probably be the spitting image of an elf. Instead she was wearing a grey dress and robe that was somehow fashionable in Gondor despite it making her look a bit like a grounded thundercloud, and she was currently hunched over a massive pile of hobbit books, one hand pressing open The Red Book of Westmarch, and the other scrawling notes down in a small, leather notebook.

Sharkey considered herself to be rather attractive - she had to have been, to wind up snogging Donnamira Brandybuck two Yules ago - but even in her sharpest jacket and brightest trousers, a base animal instinct warned her that the Scholar was out of her league.

Sharkey closed Herblore with a snap, pulled her pipe out of her jacket pocket, and made an obvious show of nonchalantly cleaning it. “How’s it coming?” she asked.

The Scholar nodded. “A bit slow, I’m afraid,” she said. “I’ve only just finished There and Back Again.”

Sharkey had experimentally puffed on the pipe to test it for blockages and suddenly inhaled a glob of charcoal that lodged itself in her throat. “Al-ready?” she managed between coughs. “You - just - got here - two days ago!”

The Scholar hummed. “It’s a very short book,” she said. She looked up. Sharkey noticed that her eyes were a stunning shade of grey and, just then, full of curious worry. “Are you all right?”

“Never better!” Sharkey said in a strangled tone. She made one more hard, wheezing hack, and the glob came out into the crook of her elbow.

“What I don’t get,” Sharkey said, changing the subject after a sufficiently embarrassing pause, “is - you’re here to study The Red Book. I get that. But we gave Gondor a copy of The Red Book just three years ago, right?”

The Scholar tapped her quill on the notebook. “Well, yes, and we’re very grateful for it. But the academics of Gondor believed that it deserved some… clarification.”

Sharkey quirked an eyebrow. “Clarification?”

The Scholar nodded and flipped through some pages of notes. “Bilbo seemed to have something of a fanciful imagination, and inserted some creatures from hobbit folklore into his writing.” She got to a page almost black with Sindarin. “There and Back Again has stone-giants, skin-changers, were-worms - were-worms!” She looked back up at Sharkey. “What the hell is a were-worm?”

Sharkey allowed the image to form in her mind. “Something like a werewolf, I reckon,” she said after a moment. “Only it turns into a worm, not a wolf. Stands to reason, right?”

There was a pause as the Scholar thought up the image as well. “No,” she said.

Sharkey grinned. “Oh, what, you’ll accept eagles, trolls, goblins, and dragons, but-”

“They’re history,” the Scholar said. “Giants and mewlips and gorcrows and Tom Bombadil - those are mythology.”

There was a thoughtful pause. “I admit it’s a fine line,” the Scholar said. “But I can see it from where I stand-”

“Tom Bombadil’s mythology?”

“Er - yes,” the Scholar said. She held up The Adventures of Tom Bombadil and gave it an accusatory wobble. “I suspect your Frodo inserted him into the story to add some levity to his travels. He’s a folklore figure. A hobbit fairy tale. He’s not actually real.”

Sharkey frowned. “Isn’t he?”

There was another thoughtful pause. “I… thought so,” the Scholar muttered. “Up until just now, anyways.”

***

It turned into something like a pattern - Sharkey pretending to read some new book in the library, catching up on how the Scholar was doing. Sometimes this turned into the Scholar asking for clarification. Sometimes this was, “A later edition of this could really do with more mentions of Arwen,” or, “Look, just because Aragorn mentions the Beornings doesn’t mean that they can turn into bears.”

Then, somewhere in the middle of Blotmath:

“You’re - you’re asking me if my grandfather ever fucked Frodo.”

The Scholar shrugged. “I’m not necessarily suggesting that the two consumated the relationship, but if you look at the subtext-”

“My dear, sweet granddad, who loved my grandmother very much, and decided to leave for the Undying Lands the moment she died-”

“Well, who’s to say what happened before he got married? I’m just saying, it’s very convenient that Rosie only gets mentioned towards the end of the-”

“My lovely, gentle Grandpa Gamgee-”

The Scholar slapped a hand onto the table. “Your Grandpa Gamgee had a legendary virility among hobbits, and was considered for his time to be the most attractive hobbit in the Shire, Frodo would be insane not to get on that.”

“This is hell,” Sharkey said. “I’m in hell and you’re the devil. Everything makes sense now.”

The Scholar laughed, a clear, beautiful noise that set certain parts of Sharkey’s brain on fire. “I suppose hobbits don’t talk about that sort of thing, do they?”

“In the Old-Shire, definitely. But Undertowers is different.”

“How so?”

Sharkey shrugged. “It’s a new town,” she said. “When hobbits heard that there was a new place, a place away from the gossip, a lot of the ones who were disgraced in their old towns migrated over. A lot of that was for-” She made a vague gesture. “Travelling by ship with Gimli and Legolas, if you catch my meaning.”

The Scholar raised her eyebrows. “I had no idea.”

Sharkey puffed herself up, and pulled on the lapels of her jacket. “I pride myself as being the foremost authority on the subject.”

The Scholar leaned across the desk to her. Sharkey could suddenly see the little droplets of dried ink on her cheek, the shape of her lips, the thunderstorm in her grey eyes. “It’s a theory I’m… less experienced in, but certainly willing to study.”

The library was the biggest room in all of the Fairbairn Hallow, with ceilings that stretched up to a full ten feet. It was suddenly entirely too small and cramped to breathe in.

Sharkey licked her lips. “D’you - what do you say we get out of here and get a drink?”

***

The door to Elfstan’s study banged against the bookshelf built into the wall, dislodging a butterfly collection and Herblore of the Shire.

In the round doorway, significantly ruffled, gently swaying, and, an observer would have to be very close and deal with the very strong smell of hobbit-brewed whiskey to spot it, with dark lipstick smeared across one side of her mouth, was Sharkey.

“I AM,” she declared, “THE GREATEST HOBBIT WHO EVER LIVED.”

Elfstan apparently ignored her. “Write it down for posterity,” Sharkey continued. “On this, the sixteenth of Blotmath in the year 1487 (by Shire Reckoning), I, Fíriel Fairbairn, achieved the unachievable, and okay we just made out a little before she passed out, but that’s pretty good for me, and hey, why aren’t you paying attention?”

Her brother handed her a sheet with some scrawls across it. She read it, closing one eye to shut out the three other images swirling in her vision. “Sindarin,” she said flatly. “Oo-ee.” She looked closer.

“Are you sure?” she said, the dread chill of sobriety reaching its fingers into her hindbrain.

“I think so.”

Sharkey looked back at the sheet. “Damn,” she muttered. 

***

The Scholar was up in the tower of Elostirion, apparently to see where the palantír had once been until it was put on the ship that carried Frodo and Gandalf off into the Undying Lands.

Hobbits said that they could see all the way to the Sea from the top of Elostirion. Sharkey was firmly of the opinion that they were full of crap, mostly because by the time she’d managed to get to the top of the tower, her mind was mostly preoccupied with not dying.

“Stairs,” she wheezed once she’d made it to the top of the tower.

The Scholar was looking out over the railing. She made a sound, not really laughing, more a puff of humour without any of the effort behind it. “The hangover’s probably not helping, is it?”

“Definitely not.” She walked towards the opposite railing. “Don’t mind me, I’m going to throw up over the side.”

“I would’ve thought you’d inherited your grandfather’s constitution,” said the Scholar behind her. It sounded like she was smiling.

Sharkey wheezed over the railing until her mouth stopped tasting like she’d gargled pennies. “Granddad never had to deal with stairs while hungover,” she said. “Confusticate and bebother, I don’t know how you did it.”

The Scholar made another sound like laughter. Sharkey wiped her mouth, looked out over the railing, and said, “But I reckon it must be different for half-elves.”

There was silence. A breeze drifted through the tower, Sea-borne warmth now chilling into proper wintery discomfort.

The Scholar sighed. “How did you find out?”

Sharkey nodded and turned. The Scholar was still looking out over the opposite railing. “Elfstan’s been studying Sindarin. ‘Unglittering Gold’ - ‘All that is gold does not glitter’ - it wasn’t really a subtle pseudonym.” She added, “Er - I mean, your high-”

“Don’t,” the Scholar said. “Please don’t. I’m not that, not here.”

Sharkey took the point. “I’d like to know your name, though,” she muttered. “Your real one.”

The Scholar of Gondor turned her head and gave Sharkey a sad little smile.

“Eldariel,” Eldariel said.

Sharkey nodded. “The princess-”

“No, Sharkey, I’m not. Not here.”

“But you are.” Sharkey suddenly felt like throwing up over the rail again. “Oh ye heavens, you’re the prin-”

Eldariel whipped around, grey and black cloak and dress swirling like a woolen thunderstorm. “No, I’m not. Not here, Sharkey, do you understand? Here, I’m a scholar. I can do what I want, study what I wish. That-” she waved a hand vaguely, “-person, that girl, she’s back in Gondor.”

She raked her fingers through her hair and took a deep, dramatic breath. “I am the daughter of King Elessar, the first daughter of the House of Telcontar. Do you know what that makes me?”

Sharkey considered this. “A pri-”

“Nothing, Sharkey. I’m nothing.” She made another noise like laughing, only this time there was no humour behind it. “Worse than that - I’m a token. An asset. Do you know what the name Fíriel is from? It’s from a princess of Gondor who was married off to Arvedui of Arnor and disappeared from history all together. That’s what the princess of Gondor is meant to do, just exist and be happy until you continue the family line.”

She turned back to the railing. When she spoke again, it sounded as though her voice was coming from very far away. “My brother will be the one who takes the throne, and he’ll be the one who’ll stay in history. Stories will be told about the great deeds he’ll do once Father passes and Mother fades away. He’ll go on great quests with Elboron and Elfwine, I have no doubt, and they’ll probably find the Entwives and the Beornings and maybe even the two Blue Wizards. And what will people what remember about me?”

Sharkey looked out over the railing. She didn’t know how far half-elf eyes could see, but for the first time in her life, she thought she could just spot the Sea.

She almost said: The tip of your nose wiggles when you talk.

You hold your forehead in your palm when you read.

You are personally offended by the concept of were-worms.

When you get frustrated, you run your fingers through your hair to try and make it as messy as you can. It never works.

When we got drunk together, we walked out on a snowy night and you started crying. Snowflakes were glittering gold in the lamplight, and you’d decided that it was the prettiest thing you’d ever seen.

Your first kiss felt like revenge against your parents, and I’m terrified to ask for a second kiss because it might taste like you falling in love with me.

At the same time she thought: But people won’t remember that. People don’t deserve to have those moments remembered, written down, because that version of you belongs to me.

But for now - and tomorrow - and forever - that’s what I’ll remember about you.

She said: “To hell with what other people remember about you.”

Eldariel looked over at her.

“To hell with what other people remember about you,” Sharkey said again, a bit more certainly this time. “Maybe centuries later, somewhere, someone’ll read ‘And Old Samwise had a granddaughter named Fíriel Fairbairn,’ and they’ll say, ‘Fíriel Fairbairn? I wonder who she was,’ and they’ll read, ‘And King Elessar had a daughter,’ and they’ll say, ‘I wonder what she did.’

“But by then it’s all a story, and people will forget the truth, or they’ll remember it accidentally, but in some way it’ll carry on. What’ll be important,” she reached up and took Eldariel’s hand in hers, “is what we do today.”

What happened next - who’s to say?

***

And maybe it happened And maybe it didn’t. Oh! Who is a hobbit to say Of those dirty codgers, Those damn gossip-dodgers, Who packed up and all went away.

- Chorus of a traditional Undertowers drinking song

[spidercakes]

It continues!

Edit: my stupid ass forgot the tag list posting so here it is (though some of you still found it lmao): @prettieststarker @readysetstarker @lover-starker @starkerprince @starker-flame @i-am-irondaddy @blush-reincarnated @c6h12o6-work @von–gelmini @caseysroses @darkobsidianquill​

Part One | Part Two

Its been a long time since Tony has done this but sometimes things just feel a little more out of control and this is an easy way to get some of that back ethically. Plus he enjoys it, maybe more than he should. Its not like he’s never considered why he likes the control so much, if that means he’s controlling, and then by extension just like Howard but he’s long ago come to the conclusion that that’s not it. He doesn’t want to control someone per se, what he wants is control over a situation. The fact that other people are involved it more a symptom of how he chose to go about gaining that level of control. And he’s always taken care to not take that away from whoever he’s with because, as Pepper pointed out, he’s not much like Howard if you look further than skin deep.

Still, he hadn’t initially planned to just throw himself back into one of these things, mostly he was catching up with Sam and feeling things out but then he saw Peter. Sam’s not stupid, he knows his type, so he said he’d work something out. And Peter, fuck he’s perfect. A little inexperienced for his taste, and a little on the young side, but Tony is willing to look past that on account of he knows he’s not going to get anything better. He’d done this enough times to be able to pick up on small signs of compatibility and Peter might be inexperienced, but Tony happens to know he’s got more of a submissive side than he knows. Makes sense, for his age, that he hasn’t figured that out quite yet. At his age he’s probably still experimenting with things.

Normally experience is something he prefers but in this case he made an exception. The way Peter responded proved him right enough that he’s not entirely worried about it beyond Peter finding his voice. But the way he’d responded to Tony, handing over his other wrist without him having to ask, lifting his head a little so Tony could put the blindfold on, the way his uncomfortable squirming immediately stopped when Tony had settled a hand on his knee. Yeah, Tony knows Peter will be more than compatible with what he’s looking for.

As it is he’s disappointed that he’s going to have to wait until later to see Peter again but they both have things to do. Maybe this is one of those situations where patience pays off. Tony doubts it on account of he’d be just as excited if not more if Peter showed up now, but he’ll take what he can get. There’s also the slight disappointment of stretching things out a bit, giving Peter time to adjust to something new rather than jumping right into it but its necessary. Tony wants to give him time to gain a level of trust in him before he starts taking away his senses and leaving him to rely more on Tony than not. If he were more experienced it wouldn’t be much of a problem, but he’s not so Tony needs to start fresh.

Not ideal, considering his usual impatience, but he knows that it’ll be well worth it to wait for Peter to catch up.

*

 Peter bites his lip, unsure what to expect aside from what Tony told him in the beginning. He does have to admit that having his own key is pretty cool, mostly because Tony’s penthouse is nice as hell. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing,” he hisses at Liz over the phone.

She sighs, “didn’t you say he like… gave you an outline of what to expect?” she asks.

He rolls his eyes, “if I gave you an outline of child birth do you think it’d prepare you?” he asks.

Liz snorts, “Peter, that’s such a guy thing to say. This is in no way comparable to child birth. But your point is taken. We should throw a party there, seems like a swanky place,” she says like Peter doesn’t desperately need this job.

“Liz, I have hospital bills to pay,” he points out.

“I’m kidding Peter, mostly. But if he’s a dick we can totally trash the place, you know MJ would do it in a heartbeat.” True, and Peter loves her for it but Tony has been more than polite so far and he’s talked to some of the other people Sam employs. Turns out he’s a real stickler for not being a douchebag and he takes his employee concerns very seriously so he’s gained a bit of trust that this won’t turn into a massive shit show.

“I actually think he’s pretty nice,” Peter says, looking over the directions to the room Tony told him his stuff was in. For an apartment this place is a fucking maze.

“Yeah, he hires prostitutes, how nice can he be?” Liz says, distain in her voice.

Peter frowns, “you know I’m the prostitute, right?”

“Obviously, Peter.”

“Yeah, well acting like only losers and assholes pick up prostitutes doesn’t exactly make the job less stigmatizing. Maybe he doesn’t have time for a relationship, or doesn’t want one, you don’t know.” He does know that Tony doesn’t want a relationship with him, which is fine because he doesn’t want one with Tony either. Aside from you know, a good relationship with the guy who is also his boss, technically. God, this is messy.

The good news is that he finds the room finally and breathes out a sigh of relief as he steps inside and goes on the hunt for his outfit. Thankfully Tony has laid it out on the bed for him so he doesn’t need to go far.

“Okay, but do like… normal guys go to prostitutes?” she asks and Peter frowns.

“Yeah, probably. Why is it that sex for money somehow makes the sex dirtier or whatever? Its not like being in a relationship is free and you’re totally financially independent of them unless you make good money. Even platonic relationships don’t escape that, remember the time we all talked Ned out of moving across the country to live with his girlfriend because we’ve be fucked for rent? Anyway, I just think that paying someone to have sex with you is hardly demeaning or whatever.”

He picks up the white teddy and frowns at it for a moment, unsure how that’ll look on him. The pink frilly booty shorts are cute, though, even if they’re not something he’d pick out for himself. He shrugs and tosses Liz on the bed so he can change.

“Yeah but like. Can guys who go to prostitutes even get relationships?” Liz asks and Peter snorts.

“The sheer amount of politicians that go to prostitutes say yeah, they get into relationships just fine. Like, what is the correlation people draw between prostitution and not being able to get sex for free? Is it really less degrading to pick someone up at a bar when you’ve only known them for a half an hour? At least I get paid for my trouble now, my last Tinder date was shit in bed and I paid for dinner.” That was like, forever ago but still. He’d consider what he’s doing now considerably less degrading than that. Tony buys nice lingerie and, to Peter’s surprise, it actually looks pretty nice on him.

He fully expects Liz to have some kind of response for that but she remains silent for a moment. “I guess you make a point there. Did you figure out where you were supposed to go?” she asks.

“Yeah. Also, turns out I look cute lingerie,” he says.

The squeal of surprise is unexpected but more pleasant than their last discussion so he’ll take it. “Send me a picture!” she says and he frowns. “In like. A not sexual way,” she clarifies.

“Is that like… normal for girls? Do you guys just send each other pictures of yourselves in lingerie?” Because that seems like a dream world to him, throw some guys in there and he’s in bisexual heaven.

“Sometimes. Guys don’t do that?” she asks.

Peter squints as he opens the camera app. “Liz, in what world do guys where lingerie?” he asks.

“This one if you’re to be believed,” she points out.

Right, good point. “You know what I mean. No, guys don’t just send each other random pictures in sexy clothing. I sent the picture and if you make fun of me I’ll move and screw you all for rent,” he tells her.

She remains silent for a moment before she makes a small, approving noise. “That actually does look good on you,” she says. “What the fuck.”

“What the fuck what?” he asks, checking himself out in the mirror. He… didn’t expect to actually like this but he doesn’t mind.

“That style of lingerie looks like total shit on me and I’m mad it looks good on you,” she says. Peter grins because jealousy is a good emotion to have in this case. And if Liz thinks he looks good Tony definitely will.

“Die mad about it,” he tells Liz, who snorts and starts laughing.

“Don’t let the lace give you too much confidence,” she tells him despite the fact that he’s not wearing any lace. Its more of a sheer gossamer material that shines a little and compliments his skin nicely. He thought the white on his pale as shit skin would make him look like a fucking ghost but instead he looks etherial. Huh, so maybe this is why women like lingerie so much.

He chats back and forth with Liz for a few more minutes but she has to do homework and frankly so does he so they hang up to go do that. And Peter means to do homework, really, but the closet beckons and he has to hang up the clothes he changed out of anyway so he goes over to check it out.

His opinions on Tony’s taste mostly improve minus the yellow… thing that’s probably the most hideous shade of yellow Peter has ever seen. But the rest? Its clear that Tony has a thing for red and black, which makes his current outfit kind of a strange choice and that makes him curious but he does like most of the rest of the stuff in the closet. There’s a few things that are… well, strappy enough that he’s confused how to put them on, and a couple things that don’t look that great, but otherwise Tony clearly has talent in aesthetics.

“I didn’t think you’d take to the lingerie,” someone says and Peter lets out an accidental scream and tosses the garment thats in his hand. He turns to find Tony in the doorway looking amused.

“Oh my god, give a guy a warning!” he says, hand pressed to his heart.

Tony doesn’t look any less amused, eyes bright as he looks Peter over. “That looks nice on you,” he says, gesturing vaguely at him.

Peter looks down at himself and grins, “it does, doesn’t it? I was worried I’d come out looking like fucking Casper but thankfully that was not the case,” he says.

Tony snorts and starts laughing, “god, its been forever since someone has referenced that around me. I’m kind of surprised you even know what Casper is,” he says.

Peter doesn’t mean to say it but it slips out anyway. “Okay, boomer,” he says out of pure instinct and thankfully Tony bursts out laughing.

“One, I’m not that old. Two, you always this sassy or is this new?”

“Um. Depends, usually its a comfort thing. Sorry I called you a boomer,” he says.

“Its fine. The youths know how to make a good meme, I’ll give you guys that,” Tony says, smiling still.

“Well, the economy is shit so all we’ve got is depression humor and memes so we gotta make it good,” he says, considering his choices for a half a second before figuring fuck it. He could stay here all day or he could figure out what the rest of the night will be like and go over to Tony, see how he reacts. As it turns out he mostly looks like he wants to devour Peter but he keeps his hands to himself even if his thoughts are pretty obvious on his face. Peter wraps his arms around Tony’s neck, a silent way of giving him permission to touch him, and leans into him. “So we’re watching a movie, right? What am I supposed to expect?”

Tony looks pretty ready to abandon the movie idea but he doesn’t. “Your choice,” he says and Peter grins.

“Star Wars?” he asks excitedly.

“Baby, which Star Wars movie? And if you list any of the prequels I’ll fire you,” he jokes.

Peter wrinkles his nose, “A New Hope, obviously. Ew, why would I subject us to Jar Jar?”

Tony snickers, wrapping his arms around Peter’s waist. “Thank god. I met someone who liked Jar Jar Binks once and I’ve never been the same.”

*

He’s been staring at the skirt for like fifteen minutes and no one is home. Everyone else has classes or work in MJ’s case so really, there’s no harm if he steals Liz’s skirt from the floor of her room. No one will ever know and he’s never even had thoughts like that before and- well, okay, that’s not exactly true. He’s always liked the aesthetic of skirts, its just that he never really considered them on him before. But the way Tony reacted when he saw Peter in that lingerie, the way he kept looking at him all night…

He didn’t expect to like that feeling so much and skirts are pretty, he’s always liked them…

Fuck it, if he hates it he can put it back and its not like Liz would ever know so he sneaks in, snatches it from the ground, and sneaks back out. They’re probably the same size so this should be fine. Once in his room and slips it on and sure enough, it fits perfectly though it sits different on him than Liz. Probably on account of she has hips and he doesn’t, not really. But it does sit nicely over his butt so there’s that.

He grins, snatching his phone out of his abandoned pant pockets and moving his mirror in front of his bed so he can try and take a decent picture. It takes some finagling and a little work but he finally manages to get a good angle and-

“Oh shit,” he says, desperately snapping pictures as his free hand slips and he falls headfirst off the bed. He sighs, picking himself back up and smoothing out Liz’s skirt before examining the pictures.

He smiles, saving the good ones and deleting the rest before he sends them off to Tony. His favorite is the one with his back arched, the skirt sitting just too high to be appropriate, exposing a little cheek underneath. If he ignores his messy bed in the background its pretty much the perfect picture given the proportions of it. Tony’s response is pretty much immediate.

Wear that tomorrow.

[koalitypop]

how to make a bookworm fall in love with (all of) you || chapter 1 - “nothing”

pairings: OT7 x reader 

tags: love for books, polyamory (in the future) 

word count: 2.9k

chapter 2

a/n: all of the books that have been mentioned are real books and i specifically recommend reading “Nothing” - it is one of my favourite books and it is a great read if you are looking for something rather philosophical. i hope you enjoy the piece! 

When all 7 members of BTS entered the local bookstore, where you spent every afternoon, surprisingly, you couldn’t be any more annoyed. You could hear that a group of pretty noisy people had entered, but because of the shelves in front of you, you couldn’t see them – all you did was sigh and continue reading the resume of that thriller book you saw everywhere you went.  

Books were your biggest passion. They helped you understand yourself better and were your secret escape universe from this tiring awful world. And after years on years, being supported only by fictional characters and magical worlds, you decided to try to surround yourself with books, as they were one of the not so many things, which brought you happiness and comfort.  

You treasured the few hours you spent every day in that bookstore a lot and there were many reasons about it - it was really warm and cosy, constantly smelled like tea, wasn’t really bright and, most importantly, it was located in the rather calm place in your neighbourhood. It totally fit your imaginations for the best bookshop.  

“Yaah, it smells really good in here”, a boy exclaimed somewhere in the bookstore.

You rolled your eyes, irritated. Was it necessary for this boy to scream?

Many steps coming from different places and a boy’s shade on your right - someone was getting closer to you. “It must be one of those punks” you instantly thought. It wasn’t hard for you to imagine their hands scrunching and creasing the books or not putting them in the correct place, making cold shivers creep down your back. Such a disrespectful attitude towards books wasn’t something you could tolerate.  

The resume of that thriller book sounded promising, but you put it back at its place and decided to continue wandering around, hopefully not meeting any of those nasty sounding people.  

You turned left twice, going to the Young Adult section of the bookstore. The quantity of Young Adult books was astonishing, especially for a bookstore, which wasn’t a part of chain stores. Young Adult wasn’t exactly your favourite category when it comes to books, but as every other thing in regard to books, it was worth a try. Despite that, your favourite book was categorised as Young Adult one.  

A new hardcover edition of Looking for Alaska. Not your all-time favourite, but still a very good read. The new edition was really beautiful, still mostly black as the origina-. 

“Gosh, those idiots again!”

Someone ran into the section out, almost breaking one shelf, making you turn your gaze to him in shock. That person looked pretty interesting - wearing a very old-looking coat, with wide pants and a Ravenclaw sweater underneath, a pretty ridiculous outfit, which however looked gorgeous on him. If you could only see his face, his stupid baseball cap getting in the way.

The boy looked at you and sighed. “Ah, sorry-” at first starting in Korean, “Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you,” then he continued in a very bold American accent.

He made a bow-like movement and continued looking for whatever he was looking for. Fortunately, you were able to get a few glances of his face. Olive tan, beautiful brown hair and sinfully plump lips, as his tall and fit figure wasn’t seductive enough. It was a miracle to see such a handsome boy in a bookshop.  

He cursed behind you, obviously not finding the book. You were trying to carry on with the resume, when after one not very well-coordinated clumsy movement, he was standing dangerously close to you, still searching.  

You tried not to send curious glances every two seconds, but, God, it was so damn hard. His eyes jumping around the shelves in between the tittles, trying to find one, so focused, with his lips slightly opened, making him look immensely cute.

Someone shouted something from the other end of the bookstore. And then, you remembered.  

He must be a part of this noisy group, which entered a few minutes ago. He probably wasn’t so smart as he seemed, maybe he spoke English, because he’s Korean-America, despite not looking as one. He's probably buying a book for his girlfriend, as a late gift for an anniversary. Or for a cousin. Definitely not for himself.

“I found it!” he screamed, pulling a book out.  

Nothing by Janne Teller. Your favourite book.  

Okay, this changed the things a lot. You could say something, you had the rights to do so. Maybe, just maybe, you were a bit too harsh on him, maybe he truly was buying the book for himself, maybe he’s even a bookworm, just like you. You could just simply praise him, nothing overboard, only acknowledging the fact that he has made a great choice.  

“Good choice. It’s my favourite book.” you remarked in Korean.  

The boy turned to you so fast, you were afraid he would bump into you just as he did a few minutes ago into the shelves.  

“It’s mine too! I reread it every mon-… Wait, you speak Korean?” he was so excited to speak about the book, it took him some time to figure out that you are speaking in his native language, despite obviously not being Korean.  

“Would I be looking for a book in a Korean bookstore, if I didn’t?” you chuckled. Pronunciation, accent – you sounded as a native speaker.  

“You speak really well! It’s surprising. Korean is a very difficult language and not many people are able to speak as well as us Koreans do! Not that you look dumb, I mean you look nice, even smart... Oh, God, don’t mind my blabbering.” he ended up getting all shy and blushing.

“It’s alright, I get that a lot.” you laughed more at his cuteness than at his words.  

It seemed like he was interested, so you had to give it a try and follow. And how could you not, such a man shouldn't be passed.  

“I am Namjoon.” he added, giving you his hand for a handshake.

“Y/n.” you simply replied, taking it shyly.  

“So, you said that Nothing is your favourite book?” Namjoon said, his voice full of excitement.  

“Yeah, it is. I mean I love numerous books, but Nothing changed me. It’s written so well and the plot is fantastic. The fact that the author used children to be the main characters of such book, that is such a bold decision and she could have failed so many times...” you blurted out before being interrupted by Namjoon.  

“I know, right! It sends such a deep philosophical message! Gosh, I am so happy I found a fellow lover of Nothing. Most of my friends can’t really understand the book or just don’t read it, because they find it too tough. I hate it when people are afraid of reading books with philosophical messages, just because there isn’t any action or so!” Namjoon continued, gesturing around.  

“Namjoon-ah, did you find it?” a tired raspy voice asked with a slightly higher tone.

“Yeah, I found it” Namjoon waved his friend off with an eye-roll.

“Wait a minute”, you continued, pretty suspicious, “you said that Nothing is your favourite book and you reread it every month, but why are you buying another copy then?” your brows scrunched, thinking you had caught him in a lie.  

“I know that it sounds really dumb, but my roommate’s dog ruined it. You don't want to know about the argument we had afterwards. Thank God, the copy wasn’t signed or he would be dead.” Joon explained.  

“No, it’s fine, I got you. I have heard and seen this, numerous times,” you tried to laugh the situation off, feeling the conversation dying, hoping that Namjoon would say something else.  

“You have a dog?”  

“Oh, no, no, I don’t...”  

“A dog person?” He tried to guess.  

“More of a cat person actually.” you laughed, your eyes focusing on the slight smile on his lips.  

“Just like Jimin. He’s another one of my roommates, and he loves cats. Unfortunately, we hardly make time to take care of Yeontan”, that must be the dog, “what about another pet. But, you see, there is another one of my roommates, his name is Yoongi, and he kinda has some cat looks, so Jimin must be fine, I guess. Oh, I talk too much, sorry for being so annoying.” Namjoon got all shy again.  

“You’re not annoying, not at all. I can reassure you, you are a great person to talk to. But, with how many people do you live with? I mean, you have already mentioned three roommates and a dog.” you laughed slightly at the very end.  

“Well, I actually live in a dorm with my six members. We are in a group, like a musical group, like a boy band.” Namjoon explained again and again.  

“Yeah, I got it the first time.” you smirked.

“Goodness, I don't know what is happening to me, really, I am not like this usually.” Namjoon got all red and flustered.  

All shy and confused – was it because of you? Well, maybe not, but still you had to continue, the moment too alluring to overthink right now.  

“No worries, it’s cute, you're cute.”  

God, Y/n, shut up. Now that was a little too much.  

He smiled.  

Okay, a smile, a smile is good, not too promising, but good. Maybe he likes you, or at least thought that you weren't a weirdo or a psycho.  

Why were you thinking so much about it?  

“Have you picked up anything?” Namjoon asked.  

A book. Any book. Just pick one, Y/n!

You were in panic. Pure panic. Which book should you pick up? If you just pick any book, randomly, there is a very high chance that you will pick up a not well-written book, a bad one, about a certain uncomfortable theme or just a book, which he doesn’t like.

The thriller!  

“Yeah, there is one at the thriller corner, which caught my eye!”  

You weren’t lying. That resume of that book sounded promising and you wouldn’t mind buying it now, as you didn’t have any particular idea what you want to read.  

“Do you usually read thriller books?” he asked, leading you to the thriller corner.  

“I wouldn’t say so. You see, most of the time, I just want to read a certain type of book – sometimes I want to read something rather philosophical, sometimes I want to read fantasy, sometimes I look for historical novels. It depends on my mood, I guess.” you simply answered, trying not to sound indecisive.  

“Literally, same. I just don’t get it how people read the same type of books they whole lives. It’s like being at the same place your whole life.”  

Namjoon’s comment made you smile, he was so cute gesturing around.

You picked up the book. Just the thought of buying a book made you feel happy – a new world you can explore, new characters to meet. The same way people were excited before going on a vacation, you were when you were buying a book, and truly, there wasn’t anything more normal for you than that.  

“Stone Bruises by Simon Beckett. Interesting.” Namjoon murmured, peeking over your shoulder to see the title of the book.  

“Have you read it?” you asked, tuning over to meet his face, incredibly close to yours.  

“Never heard of it.” Joon giggled.  

“No matter what I do or where I go, I always see it, so, I guess, I should read it. It sounds promising.” you explained, turning your head back to the book, embarrassed by the closeness.  

“That might be your next favourite book then.” he mentioned, moving a little, so that he isn’t so close to you.  

“Oh, I don’t want to compare any other book to Nothing, I always end up disappointed afterwards” you laughed, heading to the pay desk.  

“I got you” he added, somewhat putting an end to your conversation.  

Oh, no.  

You didn’t want the conversation to end. It shouldn’t end. He was cool and smart and... God, so handsome. And even if you had no chance with him, at least you should try.  

You had nearly reached the pay desk, once you both pay for the books, you would go out of the bookstore and that was it. The end. He wouldn’t ask for your number, why would he, you hadn’t even spoken for a long time or flirted at all. And his friends? They would for sure start to make noise again. That was it. No chance. You couldn’t even come up with an idea what you should say, panicked and scared that you might say something incredibly stupid.  

“You have managed to make another one to buy Nothing!” the boy at the pay desk exclaimed.

“No, it is actually my favourite book too, I just need another copy” Namjoon laughed, showing off the book.  

This was the perfect chance to tell him something. About the book? No, he already knows everything, it’s his favourite...  

“So, Y/n has found a fellow Nothing fan then? Knowing how many people love this book, you might be soulmates.” the cashier teased, taking the book from Namjoon’s hands.  

Soulmates? Literally, he had to say that?  

You sent the boy behind the desk a very angry look, ready to say something to make the situation better, being interrupted by a loud thud.  

And, of course, his friends!  

“Yah, Park Jimin just don’t pick such big books with your small hands, you always end up dropping them. I am so tired of your messes, really!” the boy started by screaming, but was whining at the end, talking ever so fast.  

“Sorry, hyung...” another boy whispered.  

Namjoon left the pay desk, going to his friends, leaving you without giving you any time to say something.  

“Hyung, it wasn’t actually Jimin who made a mess.” Namjoon sighed.

“Ah, and how do you know? You weren’t even her-”  

“Would you stop screaming?” Namjoon cut him off, a few sighs following his words.

You couldn’t hear what Namjoon was exactly saying to his friends. You were just so disappointed in the fact that your conversation has ended like this, only being able to think about all the bright future you could have had with him if you had found something to tell him when you could. You paid for your book, your mood a bit parky after this development of the events, ready to continue with all the other stuff you had to do today.  

“Guys, this is Y/n. Y/n, these are some of my roommates – Jimin, Jin and Yoongi.”  

Dear Lord, these men were handsome!  

Jimin was a not so tall man with an angel-looking face, sinfully plump raspberry-pink lips adding to his beauty. His blue shirt did more than enough to show his bulked up upper body. He was carrying a small book in his hand, The Notebook in particular.  

On the other hand, there was Jin – tall, fit and exceptionally handsome, staring at you with deep brown eyes. His enormous shoulders made him look even hotter, while the cute Super Mario bag charm on his backpack was telling you about a rather childish and cite side of him.  

Last, but definitely not least, there was Yoongi, again, not so tall, a bit pale, but hot as hell, licking his small pink lips, while looking directly into your soul. Truly had some cat vibes going on. The headphones around his neck and his overall a bit baggy clothes didn’t let you know much about his figure, but you were already thinking about who exactly you were interested in, now as you have seen pretty much half of this band.  

“I’m Y/n!” you smiled, trying to empty your hand.  

“You speak Korean?” Jimin asked, his lips parted open, all pouty and cute.

“Yes, I actually live here” you said trying to put some more confidence into your voice.  

Then, again, as always, your conversation was interrupted. Now, by the barking of a dog outside.  

“Oh, Yeontan must be getting angry, we have left him for too long outside.” Namjoon said, gesturing to the other boys to get outside, while waving bye to the boy behind the pay desk.  

This for sure was a weird end.  

“Bye!” the cashier waved at you, smiling.  

You waved back, sighing. It wasn’t meant to end like this.  

You exited the bookstore, being met by the frisky wind of Seoul.  

“Y/n, wait a minute!”  

Namjoon?  

You turned around, hoping for the best.  

God was finally at your side.  

“I’m sorry that I got out so quickly, it’s just, we have to take extra care of Yeontan, he is a small dog, you know” Namjoon was about to start blabbering again.  

Just behind him, you saw Yoongi, Jin and Jimin and another three figures, all squatted down, surrounding a very sweet-looking dog.  

“Oh, yeah, I got you, no worries” you tried to laugh it off, being mesmerised by his looks, now that you can see him at light.  

“You see, I was hoping we can exchange numbers. So we can text and stuff like that. Or maybe KoalaTalk?”  

Damn, yes, God was at your side.  

[mymindsmadness]

Dear Drarry, the final installment

I was going to save this for Fanfic!Friday, but it’s the conclusion, so I thought it needed its own day. Yes, the Dear Drarry series is coming to an end! 

I’ve so enjoyed writing these, but I think it’s time for them to come to an end. As this is the final in the series, I played around with the idea of multiple POV’s. So in this we’ll see both sides of the conversation between Harry and Draco. 

In this one:

Draco knew that after the war, everything had to change. Starting with the life debt he owed Potter… maybe he’d just write instead. He never expected to keep writing...

Warnings: EWE

EDIT: Shout out to Anon that pointed out it was Vincent that burned in the fire, not Greg! Idk where my head was lol

Previously:

Dear Mrs. Malfoy || Dear Mum and Dad || Dear Ronald Weasley ||

November 28th 2001

Dear Potter,

I wanted to formally thank you for returning my wand now that I have paid my debt to the wizarding world. Mother would also like to extend her gratitude. 

As I’m sure you’re aware, even before you chose to testify at my trial, you were owed a life debt on behalf of my family for what you did the Room of Requirement.

Debts aside, I’ve come to realize that I’ve never really thanked you for choosing to not let me be consumed in the fire as Vincent was.

So… thank you. I’m sure you doubt the sincerity of my gratitude due in no small part to our history, but please believe me when I say I am begrudgingly truly thankful.

Now, if we could perhaps come to terms on a way to settle our life debt, I would be happy to leave you to your life as ‘the most promising auror in wizarding history’. It seems the Prophet has not bored of featuring you. I suppose congratulations are in order to both you and Weaslet Ginevra.  

I’ll be awaiting your owl,

Draco Malfoy

◢◢◢◢◢◢

 December 3rd, 2001

 Dear Malfoy,

How do you manage to sound like a ponce in a letter?

You don’t need to thank me for saving your life, Malfoy. And you don’t need to pay me back either. It’s not something I did to get one-up on you. I would have saved anyone. I’m sorry I couldn’t save Crabbe.

And don’t even mention the Prophet. They’re just as untrustworthy as ever. Ginny and I broke up over a year ago; we just kept it quiet. She’s been dating some bloke from an American quidditch team I’ve never heard of. They just got engaged. Naturally, the Prophet saw the ring and jumped to conclusions.

I saw that you and err… Astonia was it? I saw your wedding announcement in Quibbler. I didn’t know you and Luna were friends.

Seriously, don’t worry about any life debts.

Harry Potter

◢◢◢◢◢◢

 December 16th, 2001

Dear Potter,

Did you seriously write ‘err’? You know you don’t have to write everything you think, don’t you?

Astoria and I were engaged to be wed, yes. That arrangement was set up long before I was even born. Seeing as I am venturing away from the pureblood traditions and beliefs that got me imprisoned in the first place, I called off the wedding. Normally, I would entertain my mother’s wishes, but Astoria and I didn’t quite see eye to eye – or rather we saw a certain aspect very simil

As I share her interest in men, I didn’t think it fair to enter into a marriage with her. Although I do not hide who I am, I would prefer you didn’t sell that information to any papers.

Lovegood and I are on speaking terms. I find her presence to be calming, if not entertaining.

As for the life debt, it’s not as simple as dissolving it. There are magics that bind. Traditionally, I would have to offer you my first born as a potential match for one of your children. Seeing as I don’t have any children and doubt that you would care for my first born, we must come to an agreement that suits both parties.

Draco Malfoy

 ◢◢◢◢◢◢

 December 18th, 2001

Dear Malfoy,

Me? Me sell information? I think you have me confused with a pointy git we went to Hogwarts with. No, I would never sell information to the papers. Perhaps I’ll have badges made though. Bright green ones that read ‘Malfoy’s Bent’. It seems only fair.

I don’t want your first born. I doubt I’ll even have a first born of my own. Looks like we have something in common after all – Ron would be mortified. Ginny and I split because I was finally able to admit to myself that I fancy blokes. I suppose it should have been obvious when I followed you aro

If you have to settle this ridiculous life debt why not just give me a book or something, yeah? It just has to be something doesn’t it?

Forget that last. I just asked Hermione and she looked at me like I kicked a house elf. She said it must be something important, but I don’t really need anything. And I don’t want to take anything that’s important away from you.

Look, I know we’re not exactly friends, but a bunch of us are going to the pub before the holidays to celebrate. It’s on the 22nd. You should come. We could talk about all this life debt business over a pint and you can make Ron turn that shade of red that makes his hair look orange.

Harry

 ◢◢◢◢◢◢

 December 27th, 2001

 Dear Potter,

I only now just recovered from the hangover that concoction you made gave me. Did you know that it was impervious to hangover potions? I didn’t even think that was possible. I suppose it was worth it to watch Weasley sweet-talk a coat rack for the better part of an hour.

It occurred to me Christmas morning that we never did get around to talking about the life debt. Mother asked about it last night at dinner and was sorely disappointed with me for not repaying you yet. I know you’ve had very little interaction with my mother, but she is not someone that you want to be cross with you.

Draco Malfoy

 ◢◢◢◢◢◢

 December 28th, 2001

Malfoy,

On assignment. Not sure how your owl got through the wards. I’ll write you as soon as I’m back.

You called me Harry that night. You could, you know? Call me Harry.

 ◢◢◢◢◢◢

 January 6th 2002

Dear Granger,

I’m sorry to be writing you. I know despite the evening we spent at the Leaky Caldron we are not exactly on speaking terms. First, I want to apologize for the way I acted in school. I have a vague memory of apologizing the night of the 22nd, but as I can hardly remember it, I don’t think that should count. Perhaps you would allow me to buy you lunch one day this week to apologize properly? I prefer it be in muggle London so I will actually be served.  

However, the reason I write you is because I haven’t heard from Potter in quite some time. I do not know him well enough (nor do I feel comfortable) to seek him out at the ministry. Last I heard he was on an assignment. If he wanted to stop talking to me, he could have just stated as much.

Regards,

Draco Malfoy

 ◢◢◢◢◢◢

 January 7th, 2002

Dear Malfoy,

I think lunch would be lovely. We’re far too old to carry on this ridiculous feud. I remember you starting to apologize, but then you started rambling about the colour green. Perhaps we had all been too liberal with Harry’s ‘special drink’. Still, it would be nice to get a proper one. Maturity or not, you said some pretty awful things. 

As for your question, no I haven’t heard from Harry. Or Ron for that matter. They’re on the same assignment and were due back yesterday. Though, it’s not unusual for their assignments to run long. If I hear anything before you do, I’ll write you myself.

Try not to worry. Harry is a very competent auror.

Sincerely,

Hermione Granger-Weasley

Deputy Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement

 ◢◢◢◢◢◢

 January 7th, 2002

Dear Granger,

I’m not worried.

Why would I worry about Pott

It’s not as if I care if someth

How is Wednesday for lunch?

Draco Malfoy

 ◢◢◢◢◢◢

 January 11th, 2002

Dear Draco,

It’s okay that I called you Draco isn’t it? It feels silly to still be using each other’s surnames. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to write you sooner. We got caught in a magical vortex and had to walk out of the jungle with a muggle guide. But that’s confidential, so pretend I never said anything.

Hermione told me you had lunch yesterday. Well, I think that’s what she told me. I hardly stayed at the DMLE long enough to get debriefed. I’m exhausted and a mess but I wanted to write you as soon as I got home.

Hermione also said something about you asking after me? If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were worried. I like it.

I kept notes while I was out there. Little things I saw and wanted to remember to tell you. Ron thought I was losing my mind. Forest fever he called it, but I don’t think that’s right.

I think I’ve just gotten used to writing you. I look forward to it now. Don’t let it feed that abnormally large ego of yours.

Since I wrote enough down to send you another letter and you insist that we talk about this life debt, why don’t we have dinner tomorrow? I can even cook if you don’t feel like going out.

Harry

 ◢◢◢◢◢◢

 January 11th, 2002

Dear Harry,

I’m glad to see you’re recovering from your delusions well. Terrible thing that is, losing one’s mind. And you had so little to spare from the start. I’m glad to hear you’re okay though. I know you have a history of personal injury.

Be careful, Potter. Wanting to share things with me? Wanting to cook me dinner? One would think you were a Hufflepuff in search of a date.

Draco

 ◢◢◢◢◢◢

 January 11th, 2002

Draco,

Okay, it’s a date. Seven work for you?

And if we’re going to date, and I was kind of hoping we could, you should call me Harry.

Harry

 ◢◢◢◢◢◢

 January 11th, 2002

Harry,

Bleeding Gryffind..

Seven is fine. I’ll bring wine.

See you then… Harry.

Draco

 ◢◢��◢◢◢

 March 12th, 2004

Harry,

This really needs to stop. My mother is insistent that we settle our life debt. We’ve talked about this for years – years, Harry.

And before you ask, no. It can’t be a book or a broom or anything else you’ve found lying around and tried to pawn the life debt off on. It has to be something meaningful to me – to the Malfoy name. Something that holds the essence of life and is equal to the gift you’ve given me by saving mine.

I know you’re on assignment, but I also know that you’re able to receive and respond to owls – Hermione told me. When you get home we’re going to settle this once and for all! I’m very cross with you. I might even throw away those tattered trainers you insist on keeping.  

I want this settled Harry! Start thinking about things!

Draco

◢◢◢◢◢◢

 January 11th, 2002

 Draco,

I’ll have you know that I’ve actually given it a great deal of thought. Something that is important to you. Something that holds the ‘Malfoy essence’ which I still think sounds incredibly dirty as I’ve already held the Malfoy essence on several dozen occasions.

It seems you can repay me with your first born after all. Or rather, your life. I’ll take that last name too, while I’m at it.

Should have just waited a few more days and I could have asked you properly. There’s a ring in my bedside table, you spoiled git.

Harry

P.S. Don’t touch my trainers or I’m revoking my proposal

 ◢◢◢◢◢◢

 January 11th, 2002

Harry,

Did you just… 

You didn’t just…

You absolute Neanderthal! How on earth am I going to tell people (my mother!) that you proposed via letter!?

  ... However...I suppose it does meet the requirements… and the ring isn’t terribly gaudy. It will serve the debt.

Now hurry home so I can say yes properly.

I love you, you ridiculous Gryffindor.

Draco.

[rayadraws]

Hello this is the shitty princess squad anon. AAASHSHDHHSHHDSHSJS THANK YOU SO MUCH AHSHDHAJSDDHSSH I LOVE YOU SJSHSUSHHSSHSSBAHAHSHSHSSH. Yeah Garou as Belle 'cause he is a monsterfucker is a work of galaxy brain. Nobody want to mess with that frying pan, nor its owner. And thank you so much for that Jasmine! Garou. You make him look good in her outfit.

Hehehe you’re VERY welcome and thank YOU for giving me lots of inspiration! In fact...

(2k, SG/GS, swearing otherwise no particular warnings)

”Y’alright?”

Genos looked up at the sky. Silently counted to ten.

He’d messed up - of course he had. Same as always.

”Heeey.”

The call was followed by a foot roughly prodding his side where he laid on his back, on the cracked asphalt. Monster was somewhere off to his left, very dead.

”I’m not carrying you home, get up.”

With a sigh, Genos finally pulled himself into a sitting position, looking down at his torn leg and his missing foot. It wasn’t a large injury in the grand scale of things - he’d certainly been through much worse, plenty of times - but the timing was exceptionally bad. If he’d lost an arm to that stupid sentient road sign he could have replaced it easily, he had several spare sets stuffed in his side of the closet, but a foot… he’d need Kuseno for that, and a visit to the lab would take hours, hours he didn’t have. Not today.

”Oi. People are starting to flock, now that that thing is dead,” Garou grumbled. Crowds of civilians were still… difficult for the former villain.

”Fine.”

Pushing himself to his remaining foot, Genos grabbed Garou by the shoulder for support, slowly limping back towards his and Sensei’s apartment.

-

”I’ll just have to cancel. That’s all there is to it.”

”Oh boo-hoo. I thought you didn’t even want to go, and now you’re doing the sad cyborg eyes at us?” Badd gave him a pointed look.

It was true - he initially hadn’t been especially pleased to receive the invitation from the HA. A donation drive in the form of a masquerade - as if most heroes weren’t already dressed in questionable outfits on a daily basis! Every S- and A-ranked hero had received an invitation, as well as the B- and C-ranks most beloved by the public. Saitama-sensei was not one of them. Not that it made a difference - each invitation included a ”plus one”, and after considering his options, Genos had naturally insisted that Sensei come with him. He could count it as date night, Genos had argued, one that included free food and entertainment. And as Saitama-sensei agreed to come, Genos found himself growing cautiously optimistic about the whole affair.

Badd, probably simply to be difficult, had invited Garou. The man was still viewed with great distrust by the HA and the public alike, but Genos supposed if he did manage to behave himself, being seen along high-ranked heroes might improve his reputation. And if he didn’t... well, it’d be amusing to watch the chaos go down.

Genos hadn’t been too concerned about the dressing up part. He’d planned on wearing his trusted bunny ears and tail paired with his suit, the one with the suspenders. What he really looked forward to was spending the evening with Saitama-sensei. Maybe they could even dance together…

Except now there’d be no dancing, or walking, or even standing up unaided.

”What’s the big deal? Just have your mans carry you around, I know you’d love that,” Garou snorted. Looking at him, Genos quietly wondered what he had planned to dress up as. Maybe he still had that faux wolf head stashed away somewhere…

”Yeah man, that’d be romantic as shit, right? It’d be just like Cinderella!”

”Cinderella lost her shoe, not her goddamn whole ass foot!” Garou countered, throwing a pillow in Badd’s general direction.

”Yeah, well, this is the cyborg version so there!”

Genos tuned out their bickering, looking down again at his torn leg. It had stopped sparking and it wasn’t painful, but it was damned inconvenient. He didn’t have anything to stick into it to make a temporary peg-leg, did he? Doctor Kuseno would certainly not approve of that kind of repair, but on the other hand, he did often tell Genos to try to get out more and do more fun things... He wasn’t even sure if this would even qualify as fun, but the doctor did also say that he’d try to catch the drive on TV and see if he could spot Genos, and yes, Saitama-sensei too of course, and… well...

He looked up with a start, broken from his train of thought as the door slammed from the end of the room.

”What’s happening? Where is Badd going?”

”To pick up your dress, Cinderella.”

”What?”

”I told him you weren’t listening even if you were nodding!”

-

”This was not made with cyborgs in mind.”

”Yeah, well, I don’t think any costumes are. Just… don’t make any sudden movements and you’ll be fine.”

Genos wasn’t wrong - the dress clearly was not made for someone of his size, nor his long legs. The skirt ended just below his knees rather than his ankles, and it strained dangerously tight over his chest. He’d put on the most slender arms he had at home and the elbow-length gloves did fit, but only very barely.

”Look at me, and hold still,” Badd continued, hairbrush in hand.

Mildly confused, Genos twisted on the chair so that he looked straight at him, then froze as Badd brushed his hair for him. With deft fingers, he tied a large bow - matching his baby blue dress - into his hair. He seemed so at ease - as if he’d done it a million times before. It wasn’t a skill set Genos would have expected S-rank hero Metal Bat to possess, but-

”Oh. You do your little sister’s hair.”

”Yuh,” Badd muttered through the bobby pins in his mouth. He put a couple into Genos’ hair to keep the bow in place, then stepped back to admire his handiwork.

”A beautiful princess,” Garou muttered from where he laid sprawled across the folded futons. ”Where’s your prince tho’?”

”Shut up,” Badd told him. “Go find a broom.”

”A broom?” Genos asked, carefully prodding the bow. He wasn’t accustomed to having something in his hair. Even though the bow weighed so little, he felt very aware of it.

”Don’t touch it!” Badd warned, then jutted his chin at Garou in a nod as thanks when he returned with the broom.

”Yeah, it’s your cane, Cinderella.”

”Oh.”

”Fits your character and all! We put thought into this!”

Carefully Genos took the broom into hand, standing up. It looked dumb. He looked dumb in an outfit so poorly fitting but… well, it’d have to do, he supposed.

The bag Badd had come back with didn’t look even half-empty yet and he leaned forward, trying to get a peek.

”What’s the rest?”

”Well, we decided we should all match n’ shit. That should rake in the donation money, right? They said we should divide ourselves into teams to fight over who gets the most donations, so we figured hey, team Princess!

Genos stared as Badd extracted two more dresses, one bright yellow and one in alternating pink and purple.

”Hell yeah! Time to be a monsterfucker princess!” Garou cried out happily.

-

”What’s your name supposed to be again?” Genos asked.

”Ra-pun-zel. Ugh, don’t you have a fancy computer brain to help you remember stuff?”

”No,” Genos huffed, feeling oddly vindicated as Garou thumped Badd on the back of his head and tsk-ed.

”Ow! Okay, so, I’m Rapunzel, Garou is Belle and you’re Cin- Deshiderella.

”Disciple-rella? Fine.”

”See, we’re all doing great.”

Genos was not accustomed to walking down the street in a dress, but despite limping along on one leg in a far too tight outfit, he seemed to be faring better than his companions.

”...the fuck you keep your balance in heels?!” Garou yelled as he once again near lost his balance on a bit of uneven asphalt.

”Just shut up and be grateful they had heels in your size!”

Their bickering continued the way it always did, sharp but well-meaning, until they finally reached their destination.

There was… a lot of people. And paparazzi. Of course.

Genos blinked as the cameras turned to the trio of princesses. Was he imagining things, or were they going off much more rapidly than when the previous group of heroes had passed through?

”Demon Cyborg! Metal Bat!”

”...the Hero Hunter..?”

”Such glamorous costumes!”

“You look precious! Absolutely precious!”

”Demon-sama, what happened to your foot?!”

”He’s Deshiderella now!” Badd yelled as he pulled the other two through the door.

-

Garou and Badd found Genos a chair that could actually hold his weight, mercifully placed him near one of the snack tables, then wandered off to do who knew what. Bother someone, probably.

Slowly chewing on a small sandwich, Genos contemplated how different the evening was turning out compared to how he’d originally planned it. He was supposed to have shown up looking his most dazzling, impressing Sensei not only with his looks but with the surroundings - the music, the people, the… everything. Who cared about donation drive competitions, that had never been what this was about, not for him anyway.

And now here he sat, in a too-short dress with a broom for a cane and no sensei at all. Where was he? Before they’d left, Badd had called Saitama as he was on his was back home, to tell him something - he wouldn’t tell Genos what. But he had promised him that Saitama would meet up with them at the party. But they’d already been here for 18, 19… almost 20 minutes now...

He was once more startled out of his thoughts as another chair was pulled up near his, together with a pleased ”Cyborg princess!”

”Fubuki.” He crossed his arms over his chest, fabric straining over armoured shoulders.

”You look wonderful. That shade of blue suits you. It is a little short, though.”

”We didn’t have time to shop around,” Genos replied, attempting to subtly pull the skirt down. He lifted his eyes to take in all the... sparkles. ”Your dress is very… shiny.”

”Mhm. Is the food any good?” As she asked, Fubuki had one of the little sandwiches float through the air to herself.

”It’s fine.”

”So, where’s your prince?”

”I… don’t know. I came with Metal Bat and Garou.”

”Ah, yes, last I heard they were bothering Amai Mask.”

Genos smiled faintly to himself.

”Which donation team is in the lead?”

”Ah,” Fubuki grinned at him. ”Well, ’Team Princess’ has made a strong impression it seems, but so has the little joint project Sweet Blizzard, despite not being as… coordinated as you three. It’s about evenly tied, right now, between the top A slash B ranked heroes and the three little nobles.”

”Four!” Badd happily corrected as he stepped up to them. His hair was a mess and he looked sweaty, but pleased. ”How’re doing?”

”Fine. Bored.”

”You won’t be for long,” Badd nodded towards the main entry, a ridiculously large set of double doors covered in (probably plastic) gold. There was still a steady stream of people dressed in all manners of costumes passing through, if gravitating towards sexy versions of Other Things. Genos wasn’t sure what he should be looking for, unless- oh.

As was often the case, it was the shiny bald head you noticed first. What was Saitama-sensei wearing… a crown? How did it stay on..?

The most powerful man in the world looked almost small as he carefully stepped into the grand room, easily lost in the crowd despite his brightly coloured outfit. Somehow, he’d managed to find clothes that broadly corresponded with his hero outfit - most of it was yellow, with white accents and if Genos wasn’t mistaken he’d attached his hero cape as well. The boots were different though, and the gloves, and there was a sash across his chest.

Despite the poofy shoulders and knees and loud colours, despite clearly not feeling at ease in this new outfit, Genos was certain he was looking at the most handsome prince in the world.

Prince Saitama.

He stood up, putting his hand on the armrest for support, ready to call out to Saitama-sensei when Badd pushed him back down into the chair.

”Let him come to you!” he growled, and Genos reluctantly obeyed.

It took him a moment, but then Sensei finally spotted Genos and his whole demeanour broke out into relief. He pushed himself through the crowd until he reached the waiting trio.

”Hi,” he waved.

”My lord,” Genos bowed his head from where he sat, noting how his prince blushed at the title.

”My… ’borg. Wanna dance?”

Genos pointed to his leg. ”I can-ah!”

As he spoke, he felt an invisible push, and suddenly he was standing, as if held up by a great pair of invisible hands. It was familiar, but it also wasn’t. How strange to think that different espers could have their own signature… feels. Fubuki was not Tatsumaki.

Gingerly, he took Prince Saitama’s outstretched hand into his own and walked oddly to the dance portion of the hall - he and Fubuki weren’t quite coordinated, so it was somewhat tricky to walk, but at least he could get around without the broom.

He felt Saitama’s other hand against his waist, enjoying the light squeeze he gave him. He looked even more wonderful, up this close.

”Er, Genos? I have no idea how to do this…” he muttered, beginning to sweat.

”Then, let me lead,” Genos smiled, adjusting their positions and hands accordingly. He leaned forward, whispering into the other man’s ear. ”Follow me, my prince.”

-

”I can’t believe we lost the donation drive challenge to, to them. To a cyborg on one leg, a ruffian and a villain. Not to even mention, Caped Baldy!” Amai Mask groaned, downing the rest of his drink. His cat ears had gone askew on his head, but he couldn’t be bothered to fix them. It was rare for him to be this chatty, especially with anyone in a class lower than himself, but that number of drinks would do that to you...

”Well,” Fubuki smiled back, taking a sip from her own. ”They did all coordinate their outfits, and they looked very cute… especially when the prince danced with his princess…”

”How did he even manage that, on one leg?!”

Fubuki smiled at him. ”I haven’t the faintest idea.”

[beer-me-strcngth]

Something Wicked This Way Comes

When: June 22 Where: By the river Who: Bree & Eerb  (Please forgive the lack of editing on this, I���ll update it at a later date I just wanted to get it posted for now)

The river is placid today, its surface calmer than usual and sparkling under the midday sun. Birds chirp in the trees on the island’s shoreline. Summer heat settles over everything, blanketing it in humidity that manages to be almost pleasant, if still a little stifling. The current begins to pick up, gradually at first, but then the river starts to rush. Waves form on its surface. A figure comes skating through them, light bouncing off of her sun-bleached hair. Her feet are bare, floating upon water which bends perfectly to her whims. Her grin is wild and her laughter unbridled; seaweed strands are tangled up in her hair, and a fine film of salt coats her suntanned skin wherever it hasn’t recently been splashed. Despite all the little details, Bree may as well be looking into the flat waters of a clear lake, or a perfectly clean mirror - this person is a perfect reflection of her. When she opens her mouth to speak, even her accent is the same. “You look like you could be having a lot more fun right now.”

Bree blinks at the alternate version of herself -- part of her had been preparing for this since the others had their encounters, but it was still weird. Really weird. "Riiiight. Sure, okay. If this is a parent trap type situation and you're here to tell me that your mom has a picture with half of my dad's face and we're twins separated at birth, I'm gonna need a drink."

"I wish. How funny would that be?" She laughs. Liberty in a single sound. The water around her shifts like it finds Bree amusing, too. "We're not really twins. I mean, I guess we are? In a sense? But not literally in a shared-a-womb way. Besides, I'm too busy doing whatever I want to worry too much about schemes and hijinks. There are always waves to catch and magic to use, you know."

"Sure, I guess. But have you tried schemes and hijinks? They're pretty awesome," Bree said, moving closer to the water. "Like, recently I put out a bunch of catnip for a friend who... you know what, long story. Complicated story. But I digress. You know rivers aren't really great for surfing, right? White water rafting, maybe."

"I remember the catnip! That was fantastic. Aeron never quite puts that in the past, watch out." Her hands are on her hips and she wiggles her toes in the water, perfectly at ease suspended just above it. "I'd be on the open ocean now, but you happen to be on a river. You make do with what you've got. Actually, I'd rather be in the Bermuda Triangle." Her eyes are alight with mischief. "Once, just for fun, I pulled the whole area into a giant whirlpool and sped around so fast I gave myself whiplash. Worth. It."

She frowned at that, trying to figure out what exactly all the implications of those statements were. But that wasn't really her strong suit. "What if I get Aeron like..... a cool sword or something? Will he forgive me? I honestly didn't mean it for him. But also, what the fuck, dude? Are you gonna explain who you are or what you're doing here? Or are we going to just hang out, I'm leaning toward the second one if you want my opinion, always figured I'd be fun to hangout with."

"You could give him magic the likes of which he's never seen. Worked wonders on me." Her smile is completely unbothered even as Bree tries to usher them to the point. "Right right, I came here for a reason. We could totally hang out. Come with me to Bermuda! And, you know, stay." She tilts her head, watching Bree intently. "Sticking around here... It's fine. It's whatever. A little bit stifling though. I was okay with that at first, until I found out that magic doesn't work like we think it does. Bree, there's so much more we can do. I love everyone on the Council, for sure, even the grumps, but the thing itself is kinda... Unnecessary. I've found something better. So I came to tell you about it."

"I never doubted there was more," she said honestly. "The trouble with being reincarnated and relying on my shitty note-taking skills to learn from. But if I'm going anywhere, it's home. Australia home. I mean, Bermuda is officially on the bucket list now because that sounds awesome, but these people would literally die without me. Of boredom, probably. Gimme your spiel. And your cell number. And your go-to karaoke song."

For perhaps a split second, something serious, maybe even solemn, crosses her face. "They really do struggle not to let their seriousness swallow them whole." Water laps at the river shore, inching closer to Bree. "You can go anywhere, Bree. Surf Bermuda, check out some arctic glaciers, be back at Bondi in a second. I'm telling you, the magic we've had hidden away from us all this time? Total game-changer." With a puff of air she blows a lock of hair out of her eyes. "You've kinda gotta throw yourself at it, though. It's a whole-ass-or-nothing deal, and it'll tear the Council right apart if you aren't careful. Guess that's what happens when nobody is in charge."

"Yeah, I'm not actually worried about getting more magic for myself, I'm pretty happy with what I have. It's way more than most people have. But if you know where Feiyan is, that I'm interested in."

She groans almost playfully. "You're asking me the one thing I'm incapable of answering. Or, actually, one of like five. I can try, but I think the effect is supposed to make me look like a fish out of water. All lip, no noise. Feiyan can be found, though, that's the good news. I used all this magic to do that." She hardly lifts a finger and two columns of water rise to flank her. Then they begin to twirl, graceful as dancers, before sliding back into the river. "It's not just raw power - although it's that, too. Have you ever dreamed of commanding the entire ocean, Bree?" The reflection smiles like she's looking right through Bree. Her eyes are a little wild, focused on the horizon. "We are the ocean. Have you ever thought about that? What's a better embodiment of Strength than that?" Her words fall to silence and it lasts for several long beats, until she shakes her head and brings herself back. "But it's not just that. It's being about to teleport just like Mitch, or walk through the world with all your Spidey senses dialed up as high as they go like Justice. It's what The Ancients meant to take away, I suppose, and it's the key to finding Feiyan. Or to destroying the Council as you know it."

"What are the other four things?" Bree asked curiously. She sat on the river bank and leaned back on her elbows, face toward the sun to soak up as much vitamin D as she could. "The ones you can't answer. I know you can't tell me the answers but what are the questions?" Part of her doubted her double would answer that, either. Maybe it was question two. She turned her head toward the bizarro-Bree and shaded her face with one hand. "So, you're me. You made your choice, got the power, whatever. You're here to tempt me to do the same. Why? What do you care, you got your eeveelution, why does it matter if I make a different choice?"

She hummed, looking down at Bree from where the water held her high. "Five wasn't literal, buuuuut, I can't just give you the secret to using other magic - I can only tell you it's drawn from ley lines. I can't tell you who's about to come meddle in the Council's whole shtick, but I can tell you someone is. Stuff like that. I'm allowed to warn you, but I can't give you the answers you need." No emotion shifts over her face to cover her serene contentedness. Even if what she says seems urgent, she herself is as carefree as the ocean. "You're me, right? I'm you. And I kinda care about myself and what I need. Not enough to try to make you do anything, because when has that ever worked on us, but enough to warn you. There's a lot more to being Strength than you know, and was exhilarating to figure out for me. Helped me find Fei. Helped me figure out where I belong. Spread the happiness, babe."

"Yeah, we went to the ley lines. Someone is fucking with them. You know anything about that?" Bree asked. She sighed, this alternate version of her was too.... stoic. The fact that her face didn't give away her every thought spoke volumes to how different the two girls really were. Everything she was offering felt too good to be true -- the proverbial snake in the garden offering endless knowledge in exchange for eternal damnation. "Here's the thing Eerb... You're me, I'm you, so I feel like we know each other pretty well. And... I just don't trust you. There's an ulterior motive here, I don't know what it is, but I know it's there. I know that because I'm a terrible fucking person and given the chance at adventure and excitement I throw caution to the wind every time and fuck things up -- I've read about it over and over and over and I'm trying to break the cycle here."

Her calm surface gives no hint of any currents which may run beneath. "I do. I can tell you it's, uh, interference from others who..." She's thinking of words which won't get her in trouble, that much is clear. "Who know about magic and how to use it. Who aren't on the Council. Is that a good enough hint? I'm not discussing unicorns here or anything. That would be fun, though." She chuckles at 'Eerb' and doesn't bat an eyelash at Bree's candor. Doesn't seem moved by anything at all, really. Maybe her expression gains a hint of seriousness, but even that isn't easily proved. "You don't have to trust me. That seems fair enough. I did just show up out of the blue while you were minding your business. And I'm not asking you to decide anything now! I have to come back later to show you the full extent of this power anyway. So I'll come back, and you can decide then to trust me or tell me to get lost, if you like. Right now is just for giving you everything I can. Right now is for telling you that you an be the ocean, Bree. You can be a lot more than just some person or some Councilor. The Council is going to fall apart over this magic one way or another. You might as well become the force of nature you are, find Feiyan, and get a taste of that adventure before someone steals it from you for good."

saltlord06/22/2019

glittersatan06/22/2019

(,kjhgfghj) (that was so funny i broke character)

saltlord06/22/2019

(you're welcome)

"Come back for Halloween, we can get one of those two person horse costumes but a unicorn. We'll be super fucking magical," she said with a grin. "I'll keep an eye out for Death Eaters screwing with the leylines, if I can... And, for the record, I'm not saying get lost, do what you want as long as it's not hurting anyone, I just don't know what I'm going to do. In my experience when someone offers you something that sounds too good to be true, it usually is. The only exception has been Feiyan. What you're offering sounds a bit like Ultimate Cosmic Power, ITTY-BITTY living space, ya know? So I'll think about it. You can stick around, if you want. We can go do karaoke or like... freak people out with twin-y things."

"Are you afraid of me being some kind of magical used car salesman? I guess that makes sense. I can't promise people won't get hurt." She cants her head, expression pensive. "But that's true no matter what you do. See, once Marcy or Dan or Azra gets their hands on this power... yikes. Let's just say things went to hell right quick and my first instinct was to run away to Australia. Getting between them and their precious power wasn't easy. Hard decisions come with the territory." The little river waves around her grow agitated, sliding back and forth to the rhythm of the reflection's toes tapping the water's surface. "It took me a while to get used to all this... raw power. But magic is a force of nature, and nature's gonna be around long after us." She shrugs and then her grin starts up again. She starts to hum, a little off-key and without much attention to being nice to listen to, before a song tumbles from her laughing lips. "If you change your mind, I'm the first in line! Honey, I'm still free, take a chance on me." She steps onto the shore to accompany her singing with a dance, the water responding in kind. "I dunno the words, duh-nuh nuh nuh nah, something somethi-i-ing, take a chance on me-" She dissolves into her laughter for a moment and then straightens her spine again. "Karaoke rules and we are obviously fantastic at it. I can't stick around too long, though. Bermuda's my hot date."

“See, now I know you’re evil. How can you not know the words to ABBA? I’m going to kick your ass at karaoke.”

glittersatan06/22/2019

(is that her response for real kjhgf)

saltlord06/22/2019

Yeah. That’s it. She intends to think about the rest of it and try to sort it out in her head but talking to her double doesn’t seem to be getting her anywhere? Probably because she’s not asking good questions because she’s... a dummy lol

glittersatan06/22/2019

(i love everything about her)

saltlord06/22/2019

(I’m glad someone does lol)

glittersatan06/22/2019

"I mean, do you want me to be evil?" she asks, not remotely put out by the thought or Bree's lack of faith. "I can try. Not sure I'll be all that good at it since, like, all I can think about is ABBa and curly fries now, but you know how it is."

“No, that seems counterproductive. But I remember learning about doppelgängers and they’re like... always evil so.” She shrugged. “Damn, now I want curly fries. I think there a food truck nearby. Wanna see?”

"Oh, that's totally another thing I can't explain. What exactly I am. Or from when or- well, I can hint, but specifics don't come through. Let's get curly fries. I think the last time I had any was before Nadine went totally nuts and black magicked the whole Lair to pieces." She says it like she's commenting on the weather and then rubs her hands together excitedly. "You know what I love about food trucks? No dress code. I'm totally barefoot and they can just suck it."

“If anyone was gonna do it, it’d be her,” Bree sighed. “But also, I don’t like that you’re just so blasé about Nadine going bat shit and blowing things up. That’s... not ideal.” She looks down at her alternate self’s feet and cocks her head to the side. “If you’ve got access to everyone’s powers, couldn’t you just bamf some shoes here?”

"I got her to stop, so I mean..." She shrugs. "She can't hurt anyone now, and that's what matters, isn't it?" She does a mock tap dance in the sand just for Bree. "I could. I could do anything I wanted, though. Turn my feet into pterodactyl claws if I feel like it. Barefoot is nice, I like sand between my toes."

"Okay, but, ya know... it's June. And this isn't like a beach beach. Gonna be walking on asphalt soon enough. But hey, you do you."

She beams at the suggestion and pulls her knee up to take a step forward. Water rushes from the river to form a bubble floating just barely above the ground, and it supports her weight when she steps onto it. "Shoes are boring unless they're shaped like animals. And I could just bamf up some narwhal-shaped slippers, but this feels more fun."

"It's also super conspicuous? There are muggles around."

At that she groans. "Does that really matter? What are they gonna do, arrest us? Just tell them I'm a street magician and everyone else will come up with some rational explanation for what they're seeing."

"Yeah, and then you disappear and everyone looks at me with questions and I get blamed. Don't tell me you're too spoiled to walk."

"You're the one who just warned me about asphalt!"

"So put on some shoes! Damn, girl. There does not need to be this much drama. And that's coming from me."

She rolls her eyes but there's humor in the curve of her lips. It's the way someone who knows they're being purposefully unhelpful smiles. One moment her feet are bare, the next they're supported by beachy sandals. "Better, Miss Snippy?"

"Yes. And those are cute, you can leave them when you go." With that, she flips her hair and starts walking toward the food truck.

"Bossy bossy," she says as she strolls along after Bree. "And you think you wouldn't be a good leader."

"I wouldn't. There's a big difference between being bossy and making good decisions."

"Well, duh, but you aren't bossy to Azra or Eve or Aeron or anyone when you need them to listen to you." She arches her eyebrows like she's daring Bree to tell her otherwise. "You're a great listener when you try, and you know how to command attention without ever actually commanding. Sounds like leadership to me, but what do I know, I'm only you."

"You know as well as I do that people like Salma and Marcy will never take me seriously, nor should they. And I don't want to be in charge."

"They let their massive egos get in the way. How do they walk around like that all the time? Gotta be hard on their necks, am I right or am I right?" She stops in her tracks, her head cocked to the side. "Well if you won't be in charge, how can you trust anything will get done?"

"I'm not one of those if you want something done right you have to do it yourself types. I trust the people I'm with - yeah, they'll fuck some things up but we're all fuck ups so, what can you do? Micromanaging is exhausting and time consuming and ultimately counterproductive. So says the one book on management I read when I was seventeen. But it was written by flipping Navy Seals, so..."

"Did the Navy train them to flip, do you think?" She hasn't budged. "It's not really micromanaging if you tell them what to do and they do it. It's kind of just, managing. We are all fuck ups, though, that's totally true."

"Who knows," she replied with a shrug, moving around her double to continue toward the food truck -- the more important goal at the moment. "I'm not a manager."

She watches Bree's back as she walks away, her smile vanishing for a moment as her eyes narrow dangerously. Pleasantly she asks, "Then what are you?" and re-schools her face into something cheerful and benign, if a little tight around the eyes.

"A happy -- and hungry -- peon."

"I didn't realize you'd back down so easy from a challenge." It's an obvious attempt to goad her, but then, her carefree smile is starting to strain.

Bree smirked and shrugged. She didn't really think of herself as a happy peon -- it was true that she didn't want to be in charge, but there was also a part of her that wanted to see what would happen with this double if she just continued to do the opposite of what Eerb seemed to want. "Yup. We're pushovers, you ought to know that."

Now she makes no effort to hide her slitted gaze. "What about helping people? Protecting magic? Rescuing Feiyan? You'd rather just stand by and see what happens?"

Bree can't help but roll her eyes and sigh. "Calm down, okay? I'm partially messing with you because I know you're sure as fuck messing with me. But all that other stuff is going to work out -- we're going to find Fei. Magic is always chaotic and it will continue to be chaotic but we'll figure it out and we'll manage as a team -- it's what we do. I'm going to keep helping the council as much as I can, as annoyingly as I can, because they're my family and that's what you do with family. You, on the other hand, are probably an evil double sent from The Darkest Timeline™ to steal my soul, half my socks, and probably my favorite t-shirt, then stir shit up and either leave or replace me like a changeling. I'm not really cool with that but I also don't know how to stop it and I'm morbidly curious so I figure my best bet is to be myself -- an annoying troll -- and hope you get bored and either kill me or that we get a bicycle built for two."

There is a long silence. Nothing seems to move around them, and neither does the reflection. She just watches Bree. There is curiosity leeching into her face now, but it's tempered by wariness, or perhaps disappointment. Then she moves just a little too fast for comfort, coming to a stop right in front of Bree. Their eyes would be perfectly level if her head was not tilted slightly. Her gaze searches Bree's face. "I don't know what to make of you," she says softly, dissatisfaction evident.

She flinched slightly as her double moved in front of her, because that's weird af. "Yeah, I get that a lot." Her voice is nonchalant, but she's tensed to run if needed. (NOT THAT IT'D DO ANY GOOD BECAUSE HOLY SHIT HER DOUBLE JUST BASICALLY NARUTO RAN IN FRONT OF HER)

Her nose twitches. "You're so... tame." She's not bothered by their closeness, leaning her neck back only to get another look at Bree, then closing that distance yet again. "All the jokes and the pretenses. You're like a puppy. You aren't interested in power or doing important things or anything, are you? You just want to play."

"You're supposed to be me, you should know." She takes a step back and to the side, moving toward the food truck again. (She's such a little shit, I'm sorry. Because she knows her evil twin wants her do do something she's going to do NOTHING out of spite. #TheWorst )

"Maybe I should take your place."

"You'd be bored."

"I had such fun before, though... And I'm out of my own friends to drown."

Bree arches an eyebrow, turning and walking backward so she can look at her double while still making her way toward the food truck. "This is the part where I'm supposed to say something like 'touch them and I'll kill you' but if you really were me, you'd know that so I don't have to say it. Thing is, I can tell you're trying to get a rise out of me, I'm just not sure why. You want my life? Seems like you're more powerful than I am, you could murder me right here and now and take it. But you're not doing that, so there's either a bigger goal or something stopping you. I'm not the brightest bulb, but I'm also pretty sure that you're not actually me. I watched Back to the Future, interacting with your past/future self like...erases photos and fucks with the time space continuum. So, if you want something, do us both a favor and come out with it."

Disinterest filters into her expression and she shrugs. "I came here to offer what I have. You don't have to take it, but then I don't have a reason to stick around. Your life isn't important in the grand scheme of things." She turns away, looking back toward the water. "You just get reborn."

"If I'm so unimportant, why bother making the offer at all?"

"I never said you weren't important."

"So I'm important, just not my life? Meaning, what? Strength matters but not the current incarnation?"

She settles a sidelong glance over her shoulder at Bree, her face hard and inscrutable. "You could be the ocean, you know. Unfathomable. Powerful beyond belief, and vital. I don't know why you wouldn't choose that. But you don't have to - it's not something I can force. What comes next will be painful for you if you choose to watch from the sidelines, that's the best I can explain. Too afraid to take a risk and rise to the challenge? Then be afraid."

"Dually noted." She rolls her eyes and starts turns to walk away before turning back and adding, "Oh, and fuck you, too."

She smiles at that, an expression too wide and sharp for Bree's features, but she says nothing at all in return. (bree can exit orrrr engage, anything you want)

saltlordToday at 2:49 AM

Yeah, she's done with this bish

Bored of your threats now, i'm gonna get a snow cone

glittersatanToday at 2:50 AM

in that case picture eerb walking off into the water and sliding right into it to disappear - fancy exits are for chumps 

saltlordToday at 2:52 AM

LOL And then there's bree who's just like, "I thought we were getting food? I think your threats might be more effective when not on an empty stomach." Bree also 100% had a hermione moment as Eerb was walking away and was like "is that really what my hair (and ass) look like from the back?"

[wileds]

so does he have a lower opinion of faunus since a lot of his houses help were faunus

wakes up early, sees this in my email notifs, hewwo ??

i can’t emphasize enough that love grew up a bit sheltered especially in the years immediately after he came into his semblance. his power is activated by shedding blood and being exposed to it. it was not a pleasant experience and it had real legal ramifications between the victim and love (a minor at the time of course) which brought on a surge of protectiveness from his parents as well as them using their political/social clout to win a favorable solution for love, basically sweeping the event under the rug, while also keeping love ignorant about what exactly happened to the person. which is why i still say that he has no criminal record. quite a bad idea in hindsight - love feels certain that he killed them and he was not given the chance to personally apologize to the family for it, if they would even have him at this point, and all of this began his feelings of shame around his semblance alongside its celebration from his tribe as a mark of charisma / a good warrior / what have you, which is why i’m always inches away from saying that love has a bit of a complex around his affinity which is … pretty unfortunately janus-faced when you really think about the contrary natures of his supposed fate: greatness or madness, or greatness even in madness - greatness is the central destiny here, the contrariness bolstered by stories of previous inheritors of their hereditary semblance who always fell into one of the two categories. the inheritor immediately before him was for sure bloodmad. which doesn’t help matters. love has a feeling that he would become so too if he fully indulged his semblance. maybe that’s paranoia or the aforementioned shame talking, but whatever, it’s genuinely how he feels.

why am i talking about semblance again.

back to the point, he was sheltered more after this event. a lot of the house help and hires were faunus so he did spend a lot of time with them when his parents were busy. yes seeing faunus in certain roles affected him, i know how iffy it can sound to say ‘i have a __ friend so i understand ___!’ or ‘i know many __, so __!’ his curiosity about some faunus traits will come across as ignorant or even affronting if done in the wrong way. and a question like ‘can i touch it?’ always vacillates between ok and wtf no. but in actuality he typically doesn’t bring attention to faunus traits at all because then he knows he won’t make a social faux pas and he’s taken way too many etiquette classes to blunder too badly at this point idk how he was as a kid, he was a fucking handful. but today he is a naturally sensitive person. has more tact than you might expect from his abundance. he’s not afraid to apologize or be corrected, at any rate. tends to notice/comment on someone’s overall attractiveness rather than specifics (he takes note of people’s attractiveness like people do the weather. it’s just a part of how he meets someone and it doesn’t need to mean anything). there’s no intentional othering going on when he thinks of faunus or meets one. also like … i’m sure historical figures such as the faunus queen of vacuo who led during the great war + the apparent egalitarianism of the society (but is it tho) has introduced some levity into vacuoan society and into love’s mind even if through history books or lessons or moments of exposure. going too far into the i don’t see species i see people direction is also an issue (kind of like the i don’t see color argument which negates imp history, current social/criminal/etc injustices, prejudice & racism, etc). but. i answered this ask a year ago and it’s still faithful to his attitude.

… after going to shade academy he at least feels ok to ask mai and aris questions too lol, rip if he’s ever said anything awkward or offensive to them. i am sure he has been offensive due to some part of his upbringing.

that said, all of the faunus in love’s life were not in subservient roles while growing up. some of his most impactful tutors were/are faunus. including one of his primary weapons & combat trainers who i am currently trying to create. her name is leila and she’s one of the lakhdari’s (alt name for the akhdar clan which his tribe belongs to) most formidable warriors. even though she flitted in and out of love’s life because she needed to go and kick ass somewhere, she is like one of his most favorite people ever. not pictured: little love, an only child, precocious and celebrated and sometimes feared with very few friends his own age, telling his badass adult trainer that they’re friends now ok? can i visit? what’s your scroll number? then they actually became friends and leila is always like, well, alright i guess. leila is an arabian oryx whose faunus trait are those horns and she is also literally a golden-eyed warrior (they have their own lore for golden-eyed warriors) (it’s a wip from my end but i gesture vigorously at love’s own gold eyes. when i say he’s fated he’s fuckin fated) … leila’s profile post is forthcoming mostly because i don’t know how the hell to edit gifs in ps for her graphic.

AND NOW THE CONNECTION.

the point of his tribe’s endogamy (marriage within one’s own group) is to preserve their hereditary semblance. it already skips generations instead of being passed down faithfully from parent to offspring. there is an element of blood purity for a blood affinity going on here. in a difficult place like vacuo you can understand why one might want to keep a semblance like that close and alive. the clarkia semblance plus their role as prominent dust merchants contributed to their wealth and influence today. in addition, the clarkias are a human tribe. so that reinforces things. the akhdar clan they belong to have both humans and faunus though, hence folks like leila. this dynamic even goes into his and ksenija’s relationship, who are second cousins i think … there was reluctance from some people in love’s life about letting them meet a lot, although their parents got along fine because love’s parents went the exogamous route. exogamy is when one marries someone outside one’s own group. isa married amina who is way outside the kin group although still of an equal (or higher tbh) socioeconomic status than isa, when the general tradition of the clarkia tribe is to marry within one’s own group. basically they all married for love and so they didn’t really give a fuck about faunus heritage when love like, cried and begged to skip out of lessons in order to see ksenija when he was little. family is so important to them.

the clarkias are a failing house because they’re in the dust industry, and that hasn’t been doing too hot in vacuo for a long while. love is trying to help save his family from obscurity. part of this means him keeping traditions and expectations like the above going. part of his decision in choosing to become a huntsman is because of this desire to keep them from obscurity, when the clarkias really have no reason or tradition of buying into the idea of a huntsman when they’ve been warring and fighting against grimm generations before shade academy ever popped up as the ““““only real source of order.””””” so love fully expects to marry a human too. it doesn’t stop who he associates with, befriends, flirts with, or sleeps with. but he’s gonna marry a human. he is currently engaged to one even if they kinda want to break it off, but even then love is gonna marry a human. if anyone thinks that’s problematic please call him out on it but he never talks about his betrothed or marriage expectations unless he has to, not because he’s ashamed (they’re actually very compatible! they just don’t want to marry each other) (also i have not ‘created’ his betrothed yet because this is going to be all disney aladdin / 1,001 nights mythos which i haven’t had the time to watch/read for the past. year … lol.) 

he is a member of vacuoan elite and marriage prospects or who his family has hired / continue to hire seriously does not mean that he personally thinks lesser of faunus, only that he grew up in an environment that has informed his life and expects certain things from him.

[orionsangel86]

13x07 - Watching Notes - Lucifer, Colonel Sanders, Soap Opera story lines and one very grumpy angel of the lord... it must be a Bucklemming episode!

Since it’s a Bucklemming episode, and I have been seriously behind in getting my episode reviews completed, I thought I would instead just write out my thoughts and reactions to the episode whilst watching for the first time. Usually I don’t do this until I’ve watched an episode a few times but what better way to try to process a Bucklemming Episode than to stop and start and write some stuff down? If anything it may help me understand it a bit better.

My full watching notes and reactions to the episode along with my meta thoughts on it are under the cut. It gets pretty long as it took me over 3 hours to watch the whole thing on Friday evening! It’s taken me until now to actually complete the edit and add some pics to show particularly interesting moments. 

The first thing I did on Friday morning was ask a couple of the guys I talk to regularly what to expect from this episode without giving me any spoilers, I always want to check if I should prepare myself for anything problematic or generally horrible. Thankfully I was told that unlike the majority of Bucklemming episodes this one has nothing rapey in it! Yay! Oh how low the bar is already set!

Other than that, @tinkdw and @margarittet told me that it was so bad it was funny, but that there were some stand out scenes.

I felt somewhat prepared. My expectations were buried deep underground as I prepared myself for the worst. I’m glad I did as I didn’t hate it as much as I thought I would. Full notes/review under the cut...

THEN

Asmodeus, Lucifer and Mary, Asmodeus’ plans.

Michael taking Lucifer. 

So the set up is that its gonna be all about Lucifer and Asmodeus. No surprises there. Bucklemming love their pantomime villains. 

Jack noooooo!

I still don’t understand why he hurt them before he flapped off. It seems so silly that he did that after he used the exact same ability to accidentally kill the security guard. But blaaah that was last episode moving on.

Starting with Lucifer giving a monologue. *grits teeth* It’s really hard to enjoy anything when you actually despise the sound of this guys voice.

*sigh*

All these pretty stock filler shots are quite nice, probably a major contrast between our world and whatever Michael did to the AU.

Ok so it IS Michael reading Lucifer’s thoughts. He wants our world. Because of course he does. Look how pretty those shots were. (Noted Richard is directing this so I expect a very pretty episode regardless of how absurd the script is)

I think @amwritingmeta may be right that Michael is gonna be the real big bad and the scary guy this season. I mean someone needs to be because Asmodeus is a laughable pantomime villain. So I am enjoying this. Give me more of Michael and less of Asmodeus. That is far better.

(we were talking about how I miss the old style villains, the Alistair's and Azazel's and Lilith's were truly scary and awesome to watch in action. Asmodeus in 13x02 just made me cringe so I was praying for a truly terrifying villain this season and Annelie said she hopes Michael takes that role. So I’m rooting for him to be horrifying) 

Oh look classic Bucklemming love their torture scenes. Even if it is Lucifer so I don’t care (Can’t he just stay in that hanging Iron Maiden for good?)

Yup Michael is evil. I like it.

Interesting shot of Lucifer hanging behind the statue of Christ on the cross. That is… well its ironic in a way but also potential foreshadowing. If they give Lucifer a redemption arc I swear to god I am gonna be so fucking mad you will never stop hearing about it. Lucifer cannot be compared to Jesus in any way shape or form. Just NO. Look I’m not religious here but I hate this character and after what he did to Sam he deserves nothing but an agonising death. I will not accept a Lucifer redemption arc.

Okay rant over. Moving on.

Dean has a tiny tea cup. I just wanted to point that out… do they always have tiny teacups? I thought that they were manly men who don’t drink out of tiny cups!

(EDIT: In HINDSIGHT THE TINY TEACUPS FORESHADOW KETCH AND HIS POSH TEA DRINKING)

Okay so what is so great about this scene between Sam and Dean is that it is the total opposite to the scenes we are used to when the missing person is Cas. The fact that it is SAM that is super worried and DEAN that is doing the consoling is just so refreshing and it speaks VOLUMES about the way they each feel about Jack and Cas respectively. Sam developed a bond with the kid. It’s really nice. I hope that is developed.

I know that everyone already talked about the promo scene for ages whilst I was out the other night and only caught glimpses, but I love that Dean is finally using singular terms. He is not talking about him AND Sam here and Cas knew that immediately.

“Sorry darling, my family hate you. You can’t come with me”

That is basically what this moment is. They are such husbands.

The fact that he let Cas go though with just a “Don’t do anything stupid” I mean I wasn’t expecting that because I thought Dean would be far more worried and controlling but again it is nice to see him letting go of his control issues. He trusts Cas, and he accepted Cas’s reasons for going alone (which for once made perfect sense) so I am actually okay with this.

So wait, whilst Cas is looking for Jack and we have Michael/Lucifer stuff in AU world, Sam and Dean are gonna go hunt witch killers? That’s…. okay then…. I’m not sure I understand Bucklemming’s reasons for that but maybe it will make sense later. (who am I kidding from what I have been told nothing makes sense this episode and I just have to go with it – fine. The two main characters aren’t even getting in on the main plot. Whatever. *shrug*)

Oh god Asmodeus you are not scary and your weird purring is dumb.

“I have news of the Jack”

The Jack? Ok now I’m laughing. What?!?

Asmodeus that is some serious manspreading you are doing there. Stop that. I can see your bulge and it is not sexy you evil Colonel Sanders.

(Edit - Dean validating this fandom reaction to Asmodeus later is rather therapeutic - at least bucklemming are aware their OC is STUPID but poking fun at him does not make them seem clever)

Tbh this whole conversation comes across as stupid. I can’t take any of these scenes seriously I’m just laughing and trying not to cringe.

A hunter on the pay roll? Well that is definitely gonna come up later. What happened to the Winchester leadership strategy from last season? I thought they got all the hunters rallied up and on side?

Back to apocalypse world and hey Mary got mentioned. Where IS she?

No DON’T wail on Mary for a while. Does this mean that Michael has her locked up too? I hope he’s not torturing her. Urgh that would suck.

I like the light shining through the cross towards Michael. Very nice shot again. It frames Michael as being this holy and righteous character... actually they did that before:

In the first scene they also had light shining from behind him. I like how this is basically a subversion of a classic story telling trick in film making where the good character/ hero is the one bathed in light to symbolically portray him as pure and honest and trustworthy (like an angel) but this time around Michael IS an angel with his holy light, but it is anything but good. 

Anyway...

Whenever Lucifer talks I switch off. It’s not very good for meta purposes.

Why is his shirt so sparkling white? How is this possible in a alternate universe? This makes no sense logically in this world. Symbolically though it is a sign of purity, cleanliness, goodness... all things we should totally not be associating with Lucifer so this is interesting. Redemption arc. *oh yay* >.>

So Michael has already been exploring opening alternate universes eh? Well, that once again opens up future storylines I suppose. Nice set up, Bucklemming got all the foundation stuff didn’t they?

Hey Kevin! You look terrible. Score a point for Bucklemming for actually bringing BACK one of the characters they brutally killed off.

Ok so with Kevin comes the Angel tablet and another spell that requires angel grace? Talk about a big call back. I smell another possible story foundation.

Wow so Lucifer gets his grace taken almost the exact same way Cas did, to be used in a spell the same way Cas’s was, in a season where they both act as father to a Nephilim son, and apparently team up this episode too? It’s almost like they want to make the audience see a mirror here or something?

Lucifer being a Cas mirror makes me extremely uncomfortable. Trust bucklemming to try to compare my most beloved character with my most hated character. I hate them a little bit more now.

The call backs to season 8 ARE interesting though. Kevin himself is going to through the audience right back to that season, so is the angel tablet, now this with the grace stealing. We are supposed to connect the two. 

Obviously the big themes of season 8 were the toxic codependency, the angel’s fall, Cas’s brainwashing at Naomi’s hands and Destiel. Hmmmm...

Winchesters on their witch hunt. How is this relevant to the story?

KETCH?!?

SAME SAM.

My reaction was the same as the Winchesters. I’m getting whiplash in this episode already and I’m only 10 minutes in. They better have a good excuse for why Ketch is alive.

Hello Witch Daniella. “I know you don’t like witches but I also know you help people who are in trouble”.

This was a good line. Because it’s something that encourages the reading (that some people still refuse to see) that the Winchesters don’t work with absolutes here. There are always shades of grey. Their primary goal is always to help people before they kill things. 

Also a call back to last seasons following the Ketch reveal. Ketch who sees in black and white against the Winchesters who try to focus on the “saving people” part of the tagline first.

Again with the whiplash. Lucifer is giving Kevin a lecture like he’s a good parent. All this Lucifer being right and good is making me nauseaus. It’s almost like Bucklemming are hoping to get #dadifer trending on twitter. (I sincerely hope this didn’t happen)

“Michael is a monster, pure evil”

Way to force the exposition down the audiences throats. I get it. Lucifer is the one we are supposed to root for. Sorry you irritating horned hamsters, it ain’t happening. (I should mention that Horned Hamsters is courtesy of @margarittet which I find way too funny so stole from her *love you*)

Kevin called our world “paradise world” which again, I find very interesting especially in terms of what Cas was brainwashed into thinking by Jack. Cas babe, I think you were tricked – unintentionally mind, but still. Never believe in paradise. Ever.

Welp so that explains one worry we had anyway. Lucifer got back to our world so Cas doesn’t get stuck in the AU at least. So where the hell is Mary? Is Mary not in this episode? See I really need to pay attention to the cast names at the start OTHER than Misha Collins. 

Why is Lucifer wearing a wedding ring? Who’d he marry? Or has he always wore a ring since Nick? Is this just something I have chosen to not see ever in all of Lucifer’s episodes? If so that is purely a sign of me getting old and looking for rings whenever I see men on instinct now. Jesus Saz...

Lucifer you have no grace. You can’t blow people up anymore. Also that was another call back to Cas in 9x01. WHY are they trying to make Lucifer like CAS? STOP IT!!

“My ex husband is Lucifer” Okay I’ll give them that I liked that.

More torture up close. To be expected.

Oh god I can’t with these Asmodeus scenes. I’m sorry but they are awful. All I do is laugh and cringe.

Back to the random witch case that makes no sense and oh yay, more violence and this time against women! Bucklemmings favourite thing!

(I’m sorry I did warn you that this would be a running commentary on my thoughts so its gonna get wanky)

More whiplash and now a shout out to Rowena! We knew she was coming back at some point so it’s good to finally get a story in place for her.

Tying Rowena to Ketch though is possibly tying the BMOL to the Grand Coven which is what we WANTED FOR SEASON 12 so I hope we get that. Even though I still don’t see how Ketch can possibly be alive and at this point I hope it is hilariously unbelievable and idiotic in classic bucklemming fashion because I am enjoying this so far for its absurdity.

Who the hell is this? Ketch’s evil/less evil twin??!

Holy. Fuck.

(I have had to pause and laugh out loud for about five minutes)

I swear to god that I typed that before it was said in the show. I did not just add it in later. I can’t stop laughing.

So is Supernatural now Day’s of Our Lives?!

Oh god. Bucklemming. When Dabb finally fires you maybe you will be able to get work on an American Soap Opera.

Tell me we aren’t actually getting an evil twin plot? (good twin? Just as bad as the first twin? Who fucking knows. Or cares. Wow.)

I mean, Tink was right when she said it was so bad it was laughable. I didn’t think I’d actually laugh out loud but there we go.

I pressed play and Dean says “Do I look stupid to you?”

Bucklemming this is your entire audience right now.

I did like Dean’s little “Woo” there.

So Ketch has a less evil twin brother who failed Kendricks and went to become a paid for hunter. Okay. Sounds fake but okay. I don’t know whether to keep up my suspicion and go with Dean’s gut or to actually just accept that Bucklemming are legitimately this lazy with their writing. what is real?

“Isn’t that’s what we hunters do? Kill the bad thing”

I like this because it is in opposition to what Daniella said earlier. There is a silent question being asked there: “What is it that Sam and Dean actually do?” Is their primary role to protect? Or to destroy? Again it feels like the set up of a much bigger story arc and theme.

Also it’s the kind of thing that KETCH would say. 

“I don’t care how good this story looks, I ain’t buying it” Dean you keep saying my thoughts. I don’t know how to take that. Do Bucklemming just accept that their audience is gonna hate their stuff now? Why are they reading my mind and putting my thoughts in Dean’s mouth! ARGH! It’s giving me a headache.

“There’s Ripley’s Believe it or Not Weird, and then there’s weird that’s just straight up bull” Soooo like every other episode of Supernatural versus episodes written by Bucklemming? Yeah thanks for reading my mind again Dean. Hahahaha!

I kinda feel like there is an undercurrent of self deprecation in the writing here. Like Bucklemming are poking fun at their own absurdity. I’m not sure how comfortable I feel with them being self aware - it’s like they are finally starting to consider how the fandom may react and are playing with that through the characters... are Bucklemming being... smart here? o_O

Dean not buying it though is the classic clue. Dean is always right. So maybe Ketch is just lying. I mean, come on. I really hope we don’t get an evil twin plot because this is so stupid. Dean is always right. That is like rule 1 of SPN. Please don’t screw this up. 

I feel like there is a bit of a mirror going on here.

Sam sitting opposite Ketch no.2, mirroring his position, talking about how he admires his brother, wanted to be like him.

“like you I understood my brothers issues and why he did what he did”

This sentence has a dual meaning because of the way he phrases it with the “like you”. We can read it as Ketch no 2 talking purely about his brother and Sam’s understanding of him, but there is also a reading there where he could be talking about BOTH their brothers and their issues. That was in fact what I heard on first watch.

Sam understands his brother’s issues. That’s what I took from that. Whilst that could mean a bazillion and one things about Dean, there is only one theme that has been constant this season so far and Sam always seemed to not quite understand, or at least not voice any real understanding. Here it is textualised that he does. Interesting.

I mean also the fact that this guy is defending Ketch makes me again think that he is just Ketch and this evil twin stuff is bullshit because I don’t even want to believe Bucklemming would be that lazy with their writing.

The fact that Dean was mirrored to Ketch last season as well, to then talk about regret opens up a whole can of worms about Dean’s own regrets and guilt and what he still carries around with him. This whole conversation has honestly been the most interesting so far this episode because it just seems to be laying foundations for more excellent therapy and development for the Winchesters. In a season that is supposed to be exploring the themes of parenthood and of lost fathers, well… that is something that perks me right up.

YAY CAS I WONDERED WHERE YOU GOT TO!

Wait so let me get this straight. The angels are going extinct (makes sense since they keep killing them) and they think that Jack has the power to create more angels? Like God?

My face is pretty much the same as Cas’s right now.

Shout out to Metatron and the fall. Hmmm they are proper trying to remind us of season 8 in this episode. I wonder why…

Can I just say though, I know it’s not ACTUALLY what they are implying, but the idea of Jack being enslaved so he can create new angels has so many icky connotations to it. I mean this is basically what they are saying right? That they want Jack to be their angel breeder? I mean I GET that such a thing doesn’t actually involve any biological acts of reproduction here since angels aren’t BORN but the concept is still icky to me. It’s icky enough to get my ick factor going and I swear guys I’m not TRYING to find faults with this episode but urgh. Bucklemming. Always have to have SOMETHING icky in there. I thought Daniella’s description of what Ketch No. 2 did to her was icky enough.

“He belongs to all of us”. Dude. He is not a possession.

Hey at least Cas was able to hold his own against three angels there. That was pretty good. Seriously though the fighting choreography is amazing this season.

Lucifer saves Cas by majorly pea-cocking and I have several things to comment on:

“What are you doing back in this world?” “What are you doing alive?” “It’s complicated” “Same here”

I already enjoy it. God I love Cas. I like this exchange. I can already tell that he is going to make the rest of Lucifer’s scenes far more bareable for me to watch.

Cas’s angry face is awesome. Look at angry Cas! Stab him already!

And also:

“Woah Cowboy”

BAHAHAHAHA! Yeah Cas is officially a cowboy and this makes me very happy.

Also, I picked up on this earlier but now it is super obvious to me. The super white shirt with a tan coat. 

I mean it couldn’t be more obvious if they tried. Jack was dressed practically the same way a few episodes ago. Lucifer is not only another Cas mirror himself, but also therefore a symbol of goodness. I hate that. This redemption arc and framing Lucifer as the good guy thing is really driving me mad.

Lucifer wants to save the world… Oh please.

I just gotta stop for a minute and appreciate how pretty Cas is here. Look at him. Bask in his beauty with me for a moment. He looks SO GOOD compared to the last few seasons. They were proper trying to make him look tired and downtrodden and weak these past few seasons because of his depression arc and it is SO REFRESHING to see him look so hot and badass again. I missed you Cas. You sexy thing you...

Okay moving on...

Cas and Lucifer sitting in a bar with Kingdom beer looming overhead. Kingdom beer is Dean’s heavenly beer, so I find it interesting that it is over Lucifer. I hope someone metas this properly as beer signs have never been my forte.

“The last time we were together you killed me”

“The last time we were together you stabbed me”

“Oh I’m sorry”

I love sassy Cassie here. I’ll give Bucklemming this, I am enjoying their dialogue.

“Instead of the butt of heavens joke”

“I am not the…”

Oh Cas honey, they all think you are in love with a Winchester and regularly boning him against heavens rules so yeah, you are certainly the butt of their jokes!

(This is an edit and not notes from my first watch but look at the way the light shines on Cas. This is very much the same as it was with Sam and Dean in 13x02 where the light has the effect of prison bars. We theorised at the end of 13x02 that the prison bar lighting on the boys was symbolic of their emotional prison, where they were both still repressing their true emotions at the time. This time the prison bar lighting is much more ominous. Cas will be imprisoned by episode end. Interestingly the lighting doesn’t shine on Lucifer which leads me to speculate that Lucifer will escape from Asmodeus’ prison and leave Cas behind - which will piss me off but I can’t see any other reason why the prison bar lighting would only be on Cas and not on Lucifer too. Nevertheless it is another interesting way to use lighting and cinematography to portray foreshadowing.)

“I need to talk to Sam and Dean”

*head bang* lol

“Jack. Your sons name is Jack” Yeah you tell him Cas! 

“Oh my dad” oh dear. They keep on using that now. I swear it started in fandom. 

Anyway I love Cas being so grumpy and resistant to this, even though I kind of feel like Cas wouldn’t even hear Lucifer out. It feels too much like they are trying to reignite the Cas/Crowley dynamic and I think Cas would really be far more wary of Lucifer - don’t get me wrong Misha does a great job of portraying Cas’s hesitance and suspicion but I don’t see why he would even hear him out really. This all feels like another way that Bucklemming are trying to push for the audience to root for Lucifer - which so far has been one (of many) major gripes about this episode.

The Winchesters are officially the new Bobby. Lots of phones for different places! Its nice to see stuff in canon that we have head canoned for a while. 

“evil colonel sanders” DEAN STOP READING MY MIND (I scrolled back up and yep I totally used this exact phrase - wow Bucklemming are so fandom aware now its scary)

“Yes I would like to see you too, sooner the better”

“smooth was never your strong suit”

Lol Dean senses something was wrong because Cas came on too strong for him. What even WAS that Cas? Was he actually trying to hide his real conversation with Lucifer by being all clingy with his husband?! WHAT?

Okay so backing up and considering this for a moment though, of all the things Cas could have said there, let alone maybe just telling Dean that he was with Lucifer and saying “Fuck you Lucifer I do what I want” because WHY would he have hid the phone call from Lucifer in the first place? But then to say something like THAT leading Lucifer to just think he was being a needy husband well. I dunno what to even make of it. 

But Dean immediately knew something was wrong because of Cas being over needy. Poor thing thinking Cas coming on too strong is actually a call for help... argh these two are so annoying.  

“You did tell him not to do anything stupid”

“Right and when’s the last time that’s worked?”

Oh Dean.

Now I REALLY think something is gonna go wrong. Dean is always right…

Urgh Asmodeus.

Of course Asmodeus wants to keep hell. That wasn’t exactly a shocker. 

“this new version seems a little more screwable” Really Bucklemming? REALLY? Stop trying to make Lucifer into the good guy. Stop trying to make him sexy. He is NOT screwable. He is abominable. I will fight this arc with every ounce of my meta being. Urgh. I don’t even care that this was supposed to be a funny joke for the fans. Go AWAY. 

Ten bucks says people are now shipping Asmodifer. *shudders*

@elizabethrobertajones​ is this a contender for #worstshipontheshow? Or does that title still belong to Crowlatron?

The bar was called “Nick’s bar”. Ha. Ha. *slow clap*

Why do these demons have angel blades? When did this become a thing?

I am loving the fight scenes this season. Very epic. Oh look Ketch No. 2 escaped and is helping them.

“If you’d done the prescribed cavity search you’d have found it” haha oh lovely. Lets hope he meant his mouth. Though Ketch always seemed to rather enjoy Dean’s attention... I have no doubt he’d enjoy any ‘cavity searching’ from Dean.

Maybe THAT is the worst ship on the show?

“What’s become of your angel?” I am pretty sure this is actual Ketch if he is already calling Cas ‘your angel’ to Dean. How would the new guy know to pick up on the subtext between them otherwise? He hasn’t even seen the eye sex yet!

BINGO! Actual Ketch it is. 

(that explains how he knew about “your angel” then lol)

Heh. I guess the soap opera evil twin story was too terrible for even Bucklemming to use. It was the classic Rowena revive potion instead. That actually makes sense now and I should have been smarter with that one. How else would Ketch have actually survived. Why else would he have wanted Rowena? I guess that’s how Rowena is alive too then. If that spell just needs recharging then Rowena recovered from whatever Lucifer did to her. I’m looking forward to her return that’s for sure. 

I wonder if Eileen also had a revive spell... 

They better bring her back too. :(

See as I suspected, Dean was right again. We should always trust Dean. When Dean says something feels off he is right about it. He knows. Dean didn’t believe Ketch’s evil twin story for one second. It’s interesting because that story would have almost fooled me if it weren’t for Dean being so insistent that it was bullshit. 

Okay that “Hello Dean” was so wrong it’s weird because it’s Misha’s voice but he was able to say it in a way that was so WRONG. Just like Lucifer in 11x14. Impressive.

(Also I love how everyone in all of existence knows about the famous “Hello Dean” It seriously is Castiel’s catchphrase and the fact that angels and demons know this in universe is glorious.)

I had to listen back to Asmodeus playing Cas on the phone again a few times and wow. It’s scarily cold. Dean should totally know that something was up there. I’ll be rather disappointed with him if he doesn’t figure it out like straight away. 

So Cas is in a cage and Ketch is back and working with Asmodeus now? Huh. I guess at least Cas being in a cage is a better way of getting rid of him for a few episodes than having him off on some hypocritical mission for heaven or god forbid “riverboat gambling” again.

I also guess this means that Ketch was the “Hunter on the payroll” at the beginning of the episode.

That wasn’t as terrible as I was expecting... huh. I am oddly surprised and pleased at that. What do ya know.

Final thoughts

Watching this whilst writing out my thoughts actually really helped. I was able to process my thoughts instead of getting major whiplash from too much happening too quickly. It ended up being far more palatable for me. (My second watch actually bored me to tears except for Cas’s scenes so there you go - I think I would have been far more negative than I was had I watched it straight through first time around). It was definitely too much crammed in as usual for Bucklemming, and the instance in the plot to make Lucifer a ‘good’ guy is driving me around the bend. The Ketch stuff was completely nonsensical and I am 100% opposed to him being back (the one character I would have been perfectly happy with staying dead completely). 

I can’t take evil colonel sanders seriously at all. Now I have watched him in 2 episodes I can’t help but cringe whenever he is on screen. Its worse than pantomime villain, its pantomime villain in an amateur primary school production bad. I’m sorry guys, but just nope. Even the on screen jokes about him from Dean couldn’t lighten a terrible stereotypical villain created by seriously lazy writing. 

Michael is actually pretty horrifying though and I am looking forward to what will happen there. I think he is the actual villain to root for and I hope he disintegrates Asmodeus in a puff of smoke. I am extremely annoyed that Mary wasn’t in the episode though. They could have given us something more than we got. I liked Kevin’s return and what he said about choice and paradise, though I feel he is vastly different from our Kevin in how broken he seems to be. No fighting spirit. It just shows Michael’s cruelty in the subtext and makes him even more intriguing for me.

I loved every Cas scene. Of course. Even when Lucifer doesn’t shut up Cas was perfect. He was so handsome in this episode too! In my opinion, Cas made this episode. For once Bucklemming didn’t write him grossly out of character so I’ll give them kudos for that. He did well, and he was interesting and funny and his constant exasperation and suspicion and Lucifer was spot on. He was me. Though if he was truly me I would have just stabbed Lucifer in the face. Pfft. 

So Lucifer. This was totally Lucifer’s episode. He held the most screen time and pushed the story forward. I am of course extremely biased because I despise both the character and the actor who plays him so I found it very difficult to maintain focus on anything he said, but one thing that seems certain is that he has been set up for a redemption arc. I am furious about this. I hate that they are dressing him as a Cas mirror (yes I know that Lucifer has been a dark Cas mirror since season 5) and setting him up to “save the world” and I hope that Dabb takes a far more intelligent path here and turns this story on its head. Obviously Lucifer still has selfish ambitions. ‘Fixing’ Jack so he doesn’t “favour the mother” being the one interesting point he made where he didn’t seem like the good guy. The rest of the time he was just trying to convince Cas to help him stop Michael which at a surface level seems like a really honorable heroic thing to do, especially since Michael is being framed as a really bad and villainous character. I guess time will tell what happens with this. Hopefully other writers will have their own take on Lucifer’s story and we’ll see more of his totally evil and abhorrent side in future episodes because honestly, Lucifer playing the hero makes me physically sick. 

I’m disappointed the Winchesters had so little to do. Especially Sam, he is such a reactive character right now and its pissing me off that he is so sidelined whilst his abuser and tormentor for years gets to stand in the spotlight. It upsets me that the show writers don’t consider these things. Sam needs a central role in this season and I’ll be pissed if he doesn’t get it. Obviously from an objective meta analysis viewpoint I can see WHY Sam wasn’t so integral to this episode, and I did find his sincerity and hope in Ketch’s lie being the truth interesting. Sam is so desperate to find the GOOD in the world right now and this seems to be clouding his judgement. I will be very interested to see how Sam reacts to Lucifer wanting Cas’s help. 

All in all it wasn’t the WORST Bucklemming episode, but it was pretty stupid and cringeworthy throughout. I’m just happy they didn’t totally butcher Cas and made him act in an idiotic way. Though I think they could have made him MORE resistant and not try to portray them as a comedy duo. Hopefully from this we will get some interesting stuff with Asmodeus pretending to be Cas for Dean like a repeat of 11x11 so fingers crossed for that.

I also genuinely hope we get some Cas in the coming episodes and not a massive gap until we see him again. It makes no sense in my opinion to have this story move forward without Cas and Lucifer since the entire mytharc plot right now appears to revolve around them. I guess we will just have to wait and see. Bring on episode 13x08.

[cuddlysmii7y]

Salt and Sugar (Ohmtoonz)

If its one thing Luke knew for sure about Ryan, it was that he only drank the sweetest of coffee. Luke remembers stealing a drink of Ryan’s coffee as a joke only to gag at the amount of sugar in the beverage. Another thing Luke knew for certain was that Ryan wasn’t even a quarter of the way awake until he had his coffee with at least one shot of espresso. Usually on cold winter mornings, Luke would hide the coffee machine just so he would have an excuse to bring a sleepy Ryan back to bed for snuggles.

Luke tried to contain his wild grinning as he heard Ryan coming down the stairs.

“Good morning, sunshine.” Luke smiled. Ryan looked at him with bleary eyes and mumbled something incoherent, which Luke had learned was him saying ‘good morning’. “How’d you sleep?” Luke asked as Ryan trudged over to the coffee machine. Ryan just shrugged as he poured himself a cup. Ryan let out a huge yawn, letting muscle memory take over and dump spoonfuls of what he thought was sugar into his coffee. Luke had to cover his mouth with his fist in order to not just lose it. Ryan sat down oblivious to everything going on around him. Ryan sleepily rested his head on Luke’s shoulder, dazedly looking up at Luke. The way Ryan looked so peaceful, it made Luke start to second guess his earlier actions. Ryan nuzzled his neck, already starting to doze off. “Come on, you can’t fall asleep on me already, babe.” Luke chuckled lightly, his voice staying soft and silky. “Especially with your glasses still on.” Ryan scrunched up his nose. “You have coffee breath.” Ryan said, his voice still deep with sleep. Luke just kissed Ryan’s nose. “You wanna go back to bed or fall asleep at the table?” Luke watched as Ryan tried to blink the drowsiness out of his eyes. Ryan shook his head. “I need to get some editing done before a recording session.” Luke held his breath as Ryan picked up his coffee. Ryan closed his eyes in relaxation and took a big drink. Time seemed to slow down as Luke watched Ryan’s face contort into disgust. The tiredness flew off of Ryan’s appearance as his taste buds were violated with the taste of salty, strong coffee. The substance was immediately spat back into the mug as Ryan sputtered in surprise. “What the fuck was that?!” Ryan gagged. “I don’t know. What was it, Ohm?” “Luke, what did you do to my coffee…?” “Well, it did wake you up effortlessly, didn’t it?” Luke tried to contain his amusement. Ryan stared at him blankly. “You’re the worst.” “There’s no need to be so… salty, Ohmy.” Luke grinned. “You… put salt… in my coffee…” “Technically, you did.” Luke pointed out. Ryan stood up, leaving his dishs on the table, which was something he never did. “I have some editing to do.” “Aw, come on babe!” Luke reached out to catch Ryan’s hand. But Ryan kept walking. Luke sighed. “So it looks like its just you and me, Buddy.” Buddy looked up at him for a minute before prancing after Ryan. “Well fuck.” Ryan had been giving him the cold shoulder all day and it was driving Luke crazy. Sure he was use to not seeing the other when one of them was out on travel, or when one had a jam packed day of work. But even then they’d still send texts or light conversations during breaks, normally accompanied by spontaneous room vists for kisses. Now since none of these interactions were happening, Luke didn’t know what to do with himself. Luke had tried to appease his boyfriend by making Ryan’s favorite lunch dish and leaving it outside his door. But when Luke checked the hallway an hour later, Ryan’s door, which he had expected to be opened by now, was still shut and had an empty plate and glass sat in front of it. The only thing Ryan had said to him at all that day was that he was going to take Buddy for a walk. Luke had been trying to distract himself with editing all day. He couldn’t think of how to make it up to Ryan. He wished he could just buy Ryan a giant stuffed animal. But he knew Ryan was too practical for that. Luke sighed before deciding to call his other best friend for advice. Luke blindly hit the last discord he used with Delirious. “Jon, I need help. I really fucked up.” Luke sighed. “Cartoonz?” A different voice replied. Luke looked up to see he wasn’t in his personal server with Jon but a group chat. “Oh fuck, sorry guys. I must’ve hit the wrong discord.” “Your finee.” Jon laughed. “What’s the matter?” Evan asked, his voice coming through the speakers again. “Its something really stupid…” “Just fucking say it! You’re already here aren’t you?” Brian said. “I’m sure its not /that/ bad.” Brock chided. “Ryan’s been giving me the cold shoulder all day.” Luke sighed. “Oh you must’ve really fuck up.” Marcel said. “Thanks for the reassurance.” Luke grumbled. “What’d you do?” Jon asked. “Okay so this guy loves his coffee. Like absolutely can’t live without it. And one thing he does is just drown it all in ungodly amounts of sugar.” Luke started. “You didn’t do what I think you did, did you?” Brian interrupted. “Depends.” “On what?” “What do you think I did?” “Switch the sugar with cocaine?“ “What the fuck?! God, no!!” “What the hell, Brian?” Evan asked encredulisly. “It was a legitimate question, okay?!” Brian tried to defend himself. “No, it wasn’t!” Marcel cracked up. “Do you normally drink cocaine in your coffee, Brian?” Jon laughed. “Well, no but-” “Then why was the the first thing that came to your head?!” Brock chuckled. “I don’t know! I’m Irish!” “What does- ugh, nevermind. Luke, did you put salt in Ryan’s coffee?” Brock asked. “Maybe?” “Luke! You can’t do that to a man’s coffee!!” Jon laughed. “It was just a little joke to make him not want his coffee and go back to cuddling! I didn’t know he was gonna get so upset about it!” “Oh my god!” Evan laughed. “I told him I was sorry! Like a lot of times!” “And then what happened?” Brian asked. “He ignored me and took his dog on a walk.” “Ooo he’d rather spemd time with his dog over you. That’s rough.” Marcel said. “Its… ruff.” Brock giggled. “Shut up, Brock.” Brian laughed. “No, that was a good one!” Evan giggled. “Alright, so Ryan’s pretty romantic, right?” Jon asked. “Uh, I guess so. Why?” Luke asked. “Then we’ve got ourselves a gameplan.” Jon said with an audible grin. Ryan sighed as he walked through the front door. He unhooked his dog’s leash before kneeling down to take off the doggie protective shoes. “You want some water, Buddy? You did such a good job today!” Ryan smiled, rubbing his dog. He stood back up and stretched his legs. He kicked off his shoes before following the jack terrier into the kitchen. “LUKE, WE’RE BACK!” Ryan called out into the house as he always did after a walk. Ryan grabbed a glass from the cabinet and got some water before noticing Buddy run in circles in front of the fridge. “Oh what? You think you get a treat?” Ryan laughed lightheartedly. Buddy let out a “yip!” “Well, it was kinda hot out. BUT just this once. You won’t get one everytime we go on a walk.” Ryan smiled as he went to the fridge. He paused, remembering that he didn’t hear Luke when they came in. He was about to pull out his phone to text the other when he noticed a note on the fridge. Ryan chuckled and shook his head. Ryan put the sticky note aside as he open the freezer. He heard Buddy bark in excitement. Ryan giggled as he kneeled down. “You ready? Alright, here you go!” Ryan dropped an ice cube on the floor. Ryan looked back at the note as Buddy pounced on the frozen treat. “Go out back ;)” Ryan eyed it in suspicion. He left Buddy pushing his ice cube across the floor and walked across the room towards the backdoor. He opened the shades on the door so Buddy could see where he was going. Ryan gasped when his saw the backyard. The back patio was strung with fairy lights. A warm glow was cast over the seating from the varity of candles lit all around. Ryan pulled open the sliding door and stepped out. Ryan walked a couple steps, admiring the display in awe. “Luke?” Ryan called out. He paused for a second to see if he could hear him. “You out here?” Ryan walked around until he came across their hammock, all set up between two trees. Then warm arms wrapped around his waist from behind. Ryan smiled knowly as he leaned back into the familiar embrace. The pair stayed like that for a few seconds, just basking in each other’s presence. Ryan felt the chest up against his back vibrate with a low hum. Ryan tilted his head back and looked up at the face behind him. Luke’s eyes were trained on his face, trying to gauge his emotion. Ryan giggled and made a kissy face at him, getting a light kiss on the forehead in response. “Wanna lay down, darlin?” Luke finally asked, his voice rumbling. “I’d love to.” Ryan smiled. They started towards the hammock, holding hands, before Luke stopped. “Luke?” Ryan looked back at him. “How the fuck are we gonna get in together?” Luke said, staring at the hammock. Ryan looked at Luke for a second before cracking up. “What?! It’s a serious problem we have here!” “Well we just, uh, get in it?” “And how do you suppose we do that? Hm?” “Get in how you’d normally, but together?” “Fuck it. Let’s try.” It had started with a lot of elbowing, awkward kneeing, and one time of nearly falling out before they finally settled in comfortably. Their legs were tangled together. Ryan was half on, half off of Luke’s chest. Luke had one arm under Ryan’s waist and the other hand caressing Ryan’s hair. Luke started peppering kisses across Ryan’s jaw before moving to his neck. “I’m sorry for switching your sugar. I didn’t mean to make you mad.” Luke mumbled against Ryan’s neck. Ryan pulled himself up so he could look into Luke’s eyes. “I’ll forgive you on two conditions.” Ryan said. “What?” “First, you never mess with my coffee ever again.” Luke laughed. “Yeah I think I learned my lesson with that one.” “Well I’m glad.” “What was the other condition?” Luke asked. “That you keep cuddlin me like this.” Ryan giggled. “My pleasure.” Luke kissed him sweetly as he guided Ryan back into the crook of his arms.