#going to concerts alone/sitting far away from who you came with has just become normal to me now

[starrygalaxy04]

The MLQC Boys With an Agoraphobic S/O Headcannons

Victor

Victor was an observant man

So of course he noticed that whenever you would come to give your monthly and quarterly reports how you always seemed to stand as close to the center of his office as possible

He also noticed when you were on set you tended to stay away from people or congregations, often looking for reprieve if the people around you became noisy

And most importantly, you never sat in corners. Even if you two were going out on a date or were having dinner at Souvenir, you always got skittish around crowds or wanted to make sure that you had easy access to get up and leave

So he put two and two together fairly quickly

Because of that, unless you expressly wanted to go to a place where there were people, he would just take you to Souvenir so that you and him could have all the time (and space) that you needed so that you would feel comfortable

He would mention upcoming functions, suggesting that some of them might be beneficial to attend, but never ever forces you to go to a dinner or event

After all, your comfort and safety comes first above all things with this man

If you do end up in a scenario that triggers your agoraphobia, this man is here to get you out of the thing that triggered it, leading you to a spacious, open, and quiet area, waiting for you to calm down before even thinking of embracing you because he's scared it'll make it worse

He will definitely take you home and tell you to go relax while he cooks you a wide variety of comfort foods and makes some pudding for you

Was not surprised when you told him that calls and texts from him made your anxiety spike a lot

He knew he was a bit intimidating on the outside but once you got to know his cuddly interior calling and texting him slowly became easier

He will strongly suggest seeking treatment, but only when you feel like you'd be ready for it

Lucien

Lucien, being the neuroscientist he is, understood agoraphobia in and out

His first notion that you had it was the fact that you would constantly drown out noise with earbuds or headphones blasting music and you tended to walk through crowds as quickly as possible, as well as avoiding people you didn't know when you walked

It became a mutually understood thing between the two of you without you even having to say a word about it

He would stick closer to you in public as a way to assure you that he was there and that nothing was going to bother you

Definitely links your pinkies together

Dates to places like parks and nature trails were a thing he enjoyed to begin with, but become the main thing you both do when you go out

Makes sure you're with him every step of the way so that you don't get lost because he knows you would lose it, and so would he

If your agoraphobia is triggered, he will find the closest empty space, making sure to pull out your earbuds in case there isn't a place to drown out the noise

Once you're open to him touching you, he'll gently wrap an arm around your shoulder and let you lean on him until it passes, sometimes he'll rock you gently if you want him to

He's very patient with you, this man never sleeps anyways so he'll stay up with you as long as you need if it hits during the night

He straight up becomes your talk therapist, and he slowly helps you get over it, though it still comes back sometimes

He tries to get you to at least text people more, but in a gentle nudging sort of manner considering even texting him causes a lot on anxiety

He never gets mad at you for it, though

Kiro

Kiro was so sad when he found out that you had agoraphobia because this man lives in crowds

You always came to visit him in the dressing rooms and now it made sense more than ever as to why you did it, also why you looked uncomfortable when he had begged you to sit in the front row with the raring crowd of fans around you

Is immediately upset with himself and apologizes profusely about it

You're the one who has to reassure him that you were okay and braved it because you felt like you could handle it and not because he was forcing you to

Even though you can't come and watch his concerts like he wants, he finds another way

He gives you private one-on-one concerts in the comfort of your own home, serenading you like there's no tomorrow

Singing to you is also his way of calming you down when the agoraphobia hits

He'll sing soft little love songs or hum gently, far enough away that it won't make it worse but close enough so that you know he's with you

He's a snack fanatic so you best believe he has all of your comfort snacks ready in his arsenal

He'll give you lots of cuddles, letting you lay on him so that you're comfy without making you feel trapped

Took forever for you to get used to his abrupt and energetic phone calls, but when you did this boi deadass did a whole happy dance

This man even got you to video chat with him when he was off on out-of-country filming trips

He just wants to see his S/O happy without that fear, though he will ask you to seek treatment for it

Gavin

Gavin had already known that you were agoraphobic, you'd had that fear since high school

He always makes sure that you're comfortable no matter where you are

Even if its literally your home, your safe space, he will check multiple times over to make sure you're feeling alright

Doesn't ever force you to go out unless you want to, this man would rather stay in bed and cuddle with you anyways

Dates often consist of stargazing, its a big open field while looking up at the sky full of stars

He can admire both you and the stars (admiring you being a huge bonus)

He's big on not pushing boundaries so if you feel like you need time to just be alone he'll give you that space without question, waiting for you to call his name or seek him out before he gets close to you again, as much as it pains him because this man is a cuddle bear

He orders food almost every day, so its no question that he always answers the phone

Was very happy when you told him that you could answer calls from him without internally panicking

The only time you're reliable when replying is when he texts you, so Minor normally asks Gavin to ask you about something work related

If you decided to seek treatment for it, he would be with you every step of the way, literally

If the STF doesn't call him in for a mission, he will physically be next to you for everything

[lulzyrobot]

Pokemon Dynamorph AU Masterpost

Based on THIS POST 

The short of this AU is that the climax of the Eternatus fight had an even more profound effect on the Galar region and its people. The excess energy made people fuse with their pokemon! Oh boy! So below the cut I’m going to outline all the ideas behind this AU thanks to everyone’s asks showing an increasing curiosity about all this! I’m used to writing original content, nothing based on an existing property so bare with me…

Events Leading Up to The Dynamorph Event

So for this AU, the events of the game leading up to the Eternatus conflict are the SAME except for some details. 

Gloria/Victor and Hop never encounter Zacian or Zamazenta. The Rusty Sword and Shield were lost to time.

When Leon goes to confront Eternatus, he is joined by everyone up on the roof. The Gloria/ Victor, Hop, Bede, Marnie, the Gym Leaders (minus Opal because she’s back in Ballonlea enjoying retirement.) 

This confrontation happens AFTER Gloria/ Victor beats Leon, for simplicity’s sake.

So when everyone confronts Eternatus, thanks to Rose’s eager impatience to do good for the Galar region, they are unable to stop it properly since Zacian and Zamazenta are nowhere to be found. Instead, the combined efforts of everyone force Eternatus to flee.

But not without releasing an overwhelming blast of Dynamax energy.

The blast rippled throughout a portion of Galar, and had a chain reaction with power spots and the dens of the Wild Area. When the dust settled, the pokemon everyone had out that they were using in the big fight were...gone. Not in their pokeball, just..gone. Naturally, people assume the worst but they have a lingering feeling that the Pokemon are still...here somehow. But they don’t know why. So when everyone’s calmed down, and clean up begins, they all go their separate ways.

About a day passes, and then it starts to happen. From the time of the blast and when the changes start to happen externally, everyone experiences some oddities superficially (better hearing, acute sensitivity to stuff etc.)

 Leon was in his newly acquired office and the just obtained Battle Tower. He had the blind closed, sat in the darkened room thinking over everything that happened, and his loss of the Champion title. When the changes started happening, he nearly burned the office, leaving claw marks in his desk, the floor, and the walls. The noise attracted someone from the Battle Tower staff and he yelled at them in panic to call Sonia. His own phone started ringing. It was Hop.

Gloria/ Victor (I separate them cuz it's more of a ‘who you imagine in this role.’ Can only have one Champion) were being briefed on Champion duties and what that entails. It’s a boring meeting, but they excuse themself to go to the bathroom. In reality they duck away outside to just get a breather. They suddenly feel a sharp pain and start to change, probably biting into their arm to muffle any scream to prevent causing a scene.

Bede headed back to Ballonlea, distraught that Hatterine was nowhere to be found. He wanted to distract himself by continuing his gym leader training, but Opal sat him down for some tea to talk about grief and loss. She’s way older and definitely has experience in that field. What she doesn’t have experience in, is what to do when your protege starts growing traits of a pokemon…

Hop, after that whole ordeal, missing Dubwool, and having lost the gym challenge just had so many feelings to vent out, he wanted to just scream. So he heads deep into the Slumbering Weald to just scream out his frustrations. When he sits down after tiring himself out, his changes start happening. In pain, scared, and alone, he calls Leon.

Marnie went back to Spikemuth with Piers. Team Yell welcomed them with open arms and gave them the idea to have a tribute concert for the pokemon they believe they lost. Marnie declined, electing to stay at home and be alone for a while. She didn’t want to be around people right now. Then her changes started happening, and she uncontrollably let out a burst of electricity, causing an outage in Spikemuth. 

Piers, meanwhile, was setting up for an impromptu concert. He dealt with his feelings by doing literally anything to distract him from them so yelling into a microphone for a couple hours seemed like a good idea. Just as he was about to test the mic, a huge power surge came from his place and shut down all of Spikemuth’s power. Concerned for his sister he runs off stage, taking alleys as a shortcut. In his adrenaline he doesn’t even realize his changes started until he tripped over his own new claws and writhes just outside their place.

Raihan, being in Hammerlocke, wastes no time in helping with the clean up. While at the highest point in the city, he and his gym trainers were hard at work. Until Raihan collapsed, trying to hold himself up with his broom. His trainers looked on in concern and horror as he began changing, even starting up a sandstorm in the process. As a result, one trainer almost gets pushed off the roof but, bearing through the pain, Raihan leaps in and grabs them in time.

Gordie and Melony head back to Circhester. On the way, they had talked a lot about their issues and gripes that had torn a rift in their family, in earnest. The assumed loss of their pokemon worked as good common ground to remind them about the importance of family. They were both at Melony’s home when it happened. The heat and cold put a completely new kind of barrier between the two.

Bea wanted to get her mind off everything that happened by training in the outskirts of Stow-on-Side. She pushed herself too far, and her pokemon urged her to stop. But she fought them off. At first with difficulty, but then as her changes happened, more easily. Her pokemon backed off and started looking for help.

Alister, figuring that his Gengar maybe wandered off on its own again, headed to the graveyard during the night. One of Gengar’s favourite spots. For a moment, Alister thought he heard Gengar’s chuckle and it’s cry but turned to see nothing. Something compelled him to look down at himself and he could see himself becoming translucent and a suspicious shade of purple. He had always had an affinity with ghosts but becoming one was something else entirely. Ensue panic attack.

Kabu returned home to quietly meditate and think rationally about everything that happened. In a trance-like state, he could feel Centiskorch right there next to him. He felt at peace. The smell of burning snapped him out of it, however when he realized he, as well as a good part of the room, was on fire. He quickly escaped, realizing the fire didn’t hurt him. 

Nessa just wanted to be alone, so back at Hulberry, she walked along the docks, shrouded in early morning fog. Her changes started happening, but she really only felt itchy as the scales came in. Upon checking her phone, did she herself in the screen’s reflection and freak out.

Life moves on and Milo had a farm to tend to. His family urged him to take a break but he smiled back at them and assured them he was okay. He wasn’t. While working was when his changes happened. His whole family rushed to his aid. And again, through a smile, he insisted he was okay.

Oleana was working feverishly on getting money together for lawyers and bail money to get Rose out of his self-imposed jail sentence. She knew all he wanted was good for the region, but he was just too blind to see the potential damage he was causing. She wanted him to have a second chance. But her changes slowed her down. 

Rose, in a cell, reflected on his actions. How rash he was that he didn’t see the big picture. He should’ve listened. When his changes happened in his cell, he was horrified. Not at what happened to him, but what was no doubt, happening to the others. And probably more. What had he done? He needed to fix his mistake. 

The ones present at the event were not the only ones to change, however. This was happening all over the region, closer to power spots (which includes the towns, but the morphs aren’t all as drastic) and the wild area (trainers fused with wild pokemon and went hostile. This is covered in depth in another section). After one of the quickest trials, Rose had offered to the court that instead of a full prison sentence, he spent his entire resources and wealth into funding on solving this new, now coined ‘Dynamorph Crisis.’ They agreed and the Macro Cosmos got to work.

How the Dynamorph Actually Works

Bare with me because this is where I kind of bend canon and make assumptions about things for the sake of explaining how this AU even works. So. Eternatus caused all this by basically converting things into energy. On humans, it would just tear them apart. On pokemon it would just turn them into dynamax energy temporarily. The normal situation is that dynamaxing makes the pokemon grow and change form, yeah? Well for this AU, the pokemon, seeing that their trainers are potentially going to die, decide to fuse with them to ‘fill in the gaps.’ Saving them. At first, it appears like they were able to change into the parts missing, but after a while, the pokemon traits start showing, which is my excuse for why the actual changes were delayed. 

The severity of the dynamorph is dependent on proximity to the blast/ powerspot. And just personal preference if you wanted to make your own trainersona dynamorphed (which I totally encourage! It’s fun and I like seeing what you all come up with!!). 

Dynamorphed trainers gain the physical traits, special abilities, movesets and odd quirks that come with the pokemon they are dynamorphed with. (Bonding with Morpeko makes you hungry, bonding with a Xatu lets you see the future, etc) Though, since the humanity is still there, they are able to curb some of the more aggressive quirks with diligence.

If the pokemon bonded is not fully evolved, applying the correct evolutionary method will evolve and change the outward appearance of the dynamorphed trainer. Normal level up are accomplished by fighting, not by age. 

Since being part pokemon, the trainer is a lot more resilient and could, if they REALLY wanted to, fight other morphed trainers. Trainers feel the type weakness and resistances. They would faint just like a pokemon fight. Potions and pokemon centres would help them recover. Though death is still something that can happen. 

Trainers fused with food-like pokemon are not edible please don't eat them, there's a place where the food stops and the flesh starts and we don’t need to find out where that is ok??

Normal pokemon that are caught and trained will REFUSE to attack a dynamorphed trainer unless absolutely provoked. So you can’t really have a pokemon battle where a dynamoprhed trainer is beating up a pokemon or vice versa. That’s messed up.

Dynamorphed trainers cannot be caught in any kind of pokeballs. That’s also messed up.

They cannot breed to make a weird hybrid plz stop asking.

Dynamorphed Trainers can NOT be Dynamaxed. Too much energy, man.

Trainers CAN bond with more than one pokemon, but that's where complications start to occur. The more pokemon bonded to the trainer, the harder it is form them to hold on to their humanity. 

1 Pokemon = Okay

2 Pokemon = A struggle to keep humanity, but it’s possible.

3+ Pokemon = This is not a person. It is a hostile beast.

There are no legendary pokemon/ ultra beasts dynamorphed. They’re all in other regions and wouldn’t be in the Galar region when it happened so there just wouldn’t be. But if ya’ll make one with one anyway, I won’t stop you but the legendary pokemon may be too strong for a trainer to handle.

If the pokemon’s nature is different than the trainer’s than it might affect their personality. The extent of this is varied.

**No two dynamorphs look the same! If you have two trainers bonded with like...a Pikachu for example. One might get yellow fur, ears, and a tail while the other only gets a tail and the cheeks. Go nuts.

If the pokemon dynamorphed with the trainer is the opposite gender, the result is whatever you want. 

Speaking of complications, that brings us to the next part…

The Wild Area Trainers

During this whole event, I previously mentioned that the Wild Area was significantly affected. Those unfortunate enough to be out camping during the blast had the chance of 1 of 3 things happening:

They dynamorphed with one of their pokemon. 

They dynamorphed with with more than one of their pokemon

They dynamorphed with one or more wild pokemon Examples found HERE.

In the case of being bonded to a wild pokemon, this takes a heavy toll on the trainer’s mind as its constantly fighting with a wild pokemon. This causes them to lose their minds and become hostile, just like a wild pokemon. Unfortunately a large number of “Wild Trainers” roam the Wild Area. Their previously caught pokemon usually try to flee or stick around to protect their trainer out of sheer devotion. As mentioned before, they cannot be caught with a pokeball. But the region is working on a program to deal with this. …

How the Galar Region is dealing with the Dynamorph Crisis

Professors Sonia and Magnolia are appointed the top researchers, being granted the resources of the Macro Cosmos thanks to Oleana and Rose, wanting to atone for his mistakes. However the government, doubting Rose’s competence, sends out their own officials to oversee and make decisions. (I have no idea how the government of this region works. Is there a parliament? Is the gym league the authority? I’ll say for this AU there is actually a system of government…). 

They have labs and rehabilitation centres set up to be able to study and help help dynamorphed trainers cope and eventually go back home. They are not kept there against their will. Most, anyway. The main cast were quarantined in a lab/ facility for the early stages of the crisis so they could learn/ test their capabilities in a safe environment. Shenanigans ensue. Because of this, the crisis put a hold on the gym challenge league entirely. 

At first, the authorities wanted to keep this under wraps in case their morphs were an isolated incident but quickly realized that was going to be impossible. Travel to and from the Galar region became incredibly restricted. Dynamorphed trainers are not allowed to leave the region, for everyone’s safety (don’t want to risk an outburst that could harm anyone :c ), but unchanged people were free to travel once they were confirmed as ‘human’ by a mandatory test. 

The Wild Area became a huge problem, what with Wild Trainers running about. Defenses were set up just in case to prevent Wild Trainers from wandering into populated areas and causing havoc, though a few occurrences still happen, what with flying pokemon and all. Eventually, a special force was assembled that consisted of consenting dynamorphed trainers that were tasked with going into the Wild Area and subduing and retrieving Wild Trainers to bring them to a more secured location to help study them and to try and find a cure. And to confirm to families the fate of their missing family member(s). The attempt is to be as humane as possible. 

The special force (Do I really wanna call it Dynaforce? I feel like I’m abusing the prefix if I do), consists of all the current gym leaders, Piers, Leon, Victor/ Gloria and a bunch of other trainers who signed up who are 18+. (you don't want to send kids out doing this kind of dangerous work, I know pokemon is all about children taming powerful animals but you gotta draw the line in the sand somewhere. Gym leaders are exempt because they why not. They insisted and already proved their strength to the region. It’s an AU based off a fuckin game/ anime.) This force has two jobs:

Go into the Wild Area to subdue Wild Trainers and bring them home

Protect the towns in case any wild trainers get in. 

So what happened to Eternatus if it just escaped? Theories indicate it might be living in a massive den in the heart of the Wild Area, waiting to strike again. There are a lot more Wild Trainers near this area, so excursions here are difficult.

Is a cure eventually found? Honestly this is just an AU so that's up to you. My personal answer is no. Improvise. Adapt. Overcome. //Bear Grylls voice

So….this is a lot. This is just some silly AU that inspired me to expand on it for fun since you guys showed a lot of interest! I’ll edit this as I get more asks about things I may have missed, but I will be going in and deleting a lot of previous asks so I can clean up my blog a bit. I had WANTED to keep a lot of this ‘secret’ cuz I wanted to draw stuff for it. I STILL WILL DRAW for it, but realistically I don’t have the time or energy ahah. Especially for an AU of a published franchise aha. 

If you want to make a dynamorph trainersona, totally go for it! Just tag me when its done! I love seeing what people do!

[cocovikings23]

New Start - Chapter 3 (Modern Ivar x Reader)

Chapter 3 : The dinner

1 month later...

You've been working at Ragnar & Sons Corporation for a month now and everything is going very well. Hvitserk and Ubbe have become more than colleagues, they are also your friends. There is a strong respect between you. Hvitserk stopped flirting with you a few weeks ago. Ubbe is like a big brother to you, he takes care of you, he is very attentive to your personal and professional needs.

Björn and Sigurd are also part of your "Lothbrock" circle of friends. But they remain more independent than the others. Sigurd works in the family company but he has another activity outside the company: music. He started a band with friends. Björn is the eldest, he has a wife and children, he is ready to succeed his father when the time comes. He is lonelier than his younger brothers and is closer to his mother, Lagertha. You knew that Ragnar had cheated on her with the mother of the other four Lothbrocks, but family stories are always complicated so you didn't want to ask too many questions.

And Ivar ... Ivar, just like himself, you have met him in meetings and you only talk to him occasionally when you have to get him to sign contracts or other administrative papers. You haven't spoken about the elevator incident in all this time. Ivar was always condescending to you. You made sure that you didn't end up alone with him in a room because you were more than embarrassed by what happened despite the fact that the scene kept popping into your head. Sometimes you would stare into the void and think back to the pulpy lips that crashed into yours that night. The warmth of her body toning up against yours...

It's Friday, just a few more hours of effort before a good weekend of well-deserved rest. You arrive at the office with three lattes, you enter the room, your roommates have already arrived. In the end, you haven't moved into the office you were meant to move into, because the agreement with Hvitserk and Ubbe is more than perfect, finding yourself alone in an office depresses you in advance. They have gladly agreed to let you stay with them. You put a sweet kiss on their cheek and give them their morning drink. They're sitting behind their computer, already getting down to business. You imitate them, open your laptop and start writing a report, which you must give to Ivar by the end of the day. Your heart is tightened when you think her beautiful blue eyes are going to turn to you, that you'll have to go to her office alone. But your thoughts are interrupted when Hvitserk calls you.

"Y/N? What are you thinking about? ».

"Oh nothing, I... I was just thinking about the weekend," you say shyly. You feel your cheeks slightly warm, you hope they don't notice.

"Do you have plans? "Ubbe asked with his little smile that always makes you smile,

"Well no, I was just thinking that I'm going to sit on my couch, watching movies... or series while enjoying a good pizza... or sushi" you reply with amusement.

"Very good program, if only we could do the same", Hvtiserk continued with a small pout.

"Ragnar has been back for a few days and tomorrow evening Mother is organizing a dinner for Father's return, would you like to join us? »

"It's a great idea! "shouted Hvitserk, he got up from his chair to come to your office, knelt down with his hands joined together under Ubbe's amused look, "Please say yes! You will know Mother and Father. How can you refuse this beautiful face and these beautiful green eyes? But if it's a family dinner, Ivar will be there. You're doing a flip-flop, and having Ivar with you at her parents' house may not be a good idea. You hesitate for a long time, the brothers are impatient to know your answer but you end up accepting... for them.

The end of the day came quickly, you closed your report, printed it, and went to Ivar's office for validation. You are in front of his office door, knocking discreetly. "You knock discreetly. Come on in! "Ivar shouted through the piece of wood that separates you. You enter, carefully closing the door behind you. "I've come to sign my file for you, I've finished the report. If you validate it, we can send it tonight. "Put that there," he replies with a head movement to show the corner of his desk. You take it back. "Ivar, I wouldn't want to insist..." "Pardon? Are you trying to give me an order? "he whistles between his teeth, his eyes widened. "No, far be it from me, but this is a big file, the sooner it is finalized the sooner we can sign an agreement. "You lowered your head and told yourself that you had said too much while waiting for the titan's wrath. "Do you know who I am? I am YOUR boss! I decide when I have to sign the fucking papers! OKAY?! Now get out! "he shouted these words. You don't insist, it's no use, you turn around and walk out of his office. Maybe going to the Lothbrock dinner isn't such a good idea after all. But you promised the boys you would come. You sigh and go back to your office, Hvitserk realizes something is wrong. "Is everything all right Y/N? » "Yes, yes, it's okay, your brother again, who yelled at me...". Ubbe and Hvitserk look at each other, they manage to understand him without talking to each other. The end of the day was silent between the three of you. You leave the office, wait for your Uber in front of the building, Ubbe and Hvitserk wave goodbye, you answer them with a little smile and a wave.

You arrive at home, you swing your Louboutin across the room, your feet make you suffer at the end of the day. You take a hot shower to relax. You put on your white bathrobe, tie your belt and arrange your wet hair in a bun and fall asleep on your couch. You wake up with your head loose, your hair in a mess, still in your bathrobe. You fell asleep without realizing it, but at the same time it's normal given how tired you've been this week. You receive a text message from Hvitserk asking you if you are still ok for tonight, you answer that yes you will be there by 7pm as planned.

It's 6:30 pm and you are still not dressed. Hair and make-up yes but still with your towel tied around your chest with your underwear underneath. You hesitate between two outfits: sexy girl with a short black dress with a light neckline or casual girl with flared pants and a white lace top? Your heart swings... You're opting for the dress after all you felt comfortable enough with boys to dare this kind of outfit and it's been so long since you've worn a dress.

Your Uber has just arrived in front of your house, you jump in your Louboutin pumps and get in the car. After a journey of about thirty minutes you arrive in front of the Lothbrock Manor. A sumptuous dwelling dating from the 50's, there are beautiful exposed wood panelling on the outside with ivy growing along the beautiful walls. You go up the driveway of the house to a large oak door with wonderful Viking motifs carved on it. You don't even have time to knock when Hvitserk opens the door, he has heard your Uber arrive, he throws himself on you and takes you in his arms.

"Y/N! You came, that's great! Come in, I'll introduce you to Father! "There were two benches: on the first one sat Aslaug, Sigurd and Ubbe and on the second one there is a couple you don't know and of course Ivar. As for Ragnar, he is leaning against the fireplace that dominates the room, he tells his adventures in England. All eyes rose to you and Hvitserk as you entered the living room, all but one pair of eyes: Ivar's eyes remain fixed on the fire that is slowly burning in the fireplace.

"My dear Y/N! "exclaims Aslaug as she stands up and takes you in her arms, "I am so happy to finally meet you, the boys have told me a lot about you".

"Thank you Madam, I am delighted to meet you too" you answer politely.

"Please, you can call me Aslaug, ma'am, it's nice when you're sixty," she replies with a wink. The boys stand up to greet you in turn, complimenting you on your evening dress, which obviously does not leave them indifferent, but you are used to them.

Ivar still hasn't looked at you, he sits with his back to you. Ubbe takes your hand and takes you to Ragnar "Y/N, I introduce you to our father, Father this is Y/N, our colleague and friend".

"Finally, I put a face to this name, delighted Y/N, I am Ragnar. So you are my new employee and you have won the hearts of our collaborators and you have won the hearts of my sons. "he says cheerfully.

"I am delighted to meet you Mr. Lothbrock, I am very lucky to work for you, this is really a great opportunity for me.

Ragnar smiles "Come on, I'll introduce you to my oldest friend and his wife, Floki, Helga, this is Y/N, my newest recruit, well, Ivar hired her but she works for me" he says laughing. The couple gets up, Helga hugs you " Hello Y/N, I'm happy to meet you, as Aslaug said, the boys talk a lot about you ", you feel your cheeks blush.

"If I didn't know them so well I would say that they have a crush on you," Floki said, "Nice to meet you, I am Floki, friend and associate of Ragnar, you will have the chance to work with me sometimes.

"Nice to meet you too, I hope I won't disappoint you" you say shyly looking at Ragnar and Floki.

You move away from them and apologize, you walk cautiously towards Ivar who has not moved since your arrival " Hello Ivar, how are you? "he sighed before raising his head.

"I'm fi... fine", he finds your eyes, his face changes, he seems to be more soothed.

"Your parents are really very nice, Ivar."

"You are sublime tonight", he looks at you with envy, his eyes wrinkle slightly and his face closes. You know that from that moment on you will not be able to have anything more from him.

Dinner goes very well, everyone is laughing, you are sitting between Hvitserk and Sigurd. Sigurd talks to you about his music, about the concerts he plans to schedule when he and his band are up and running.  Hvitserk teases him by telling him that he bores you with his music. You are laughing between the two brothers bickering. Ubbe discusses business with Floki and Ragnar, Aslaug and Helga talk about cooking, and then there's Ivar at the end of the table who doesn't let go of his teasing brothers. The jealousy that emanates from him is palpable. You have a sudden urge to go to the bathroom, you ask Hvitserk where you can find one in the house, "Go to the first floor, first door on the right, you will find a bathroom". You thank him and apologize when you leave the table.

You go up the varnished wooden stairs, you arrive on the first floor, a long corridor is created in front of you, you see a half-open door, curiosity takes over, you decide to enter. You discover a room, decorated rather soberly with a library full of books of novels on one side and books on business strategy courses on the other. You walk to the desk next to the window overlooking a large garden, there is a camera, an Ipod and a Mac on it. You look at the pictures hanging above the desk, you see a beautiful blonde, smiling, she is really beautiful next to her is Ivar. You can't believe it, Ivar is smiling, he looks...happy. Never in a month have you seen him smiling as much as in this picture. You are hypnotized by his smile, his happy face that you can't hear that someone has entered the room.

"I'm not disturbing you ! ». It's Ivar he's furious, you can feel it in his voice. You turn around to face him.

"Oh I'm sorry Ivar, I...I saw that the door was open and...", you're terrified of being fired, and his anger is coming at you.

"And that gave you permission to enter without being invited, didn't it? »

"Ivar, I'm really sorry, I'm going to leave"

"NO!", his tone makes you jump on the spot, "What did you want to find out when you came in here, huh?! »

"Nothing, I swear to you Ivar! I'm sorry I shouldn't have come back", you lower your head regretting your mistake, you overwhelm your stupid curiosity. If there was a room you shouldn't have gone into, it was Ivar's room.

He continues to preach to you, "You wanted to know what little Ivar was like? If he had friends, girlfriends? Did he?!  You wonder who could love this being with destroyed legs? "He comes closer to you, you hear the click of his crutch. He's only a few centimeters away from you. You dare to speak out again, "Ivar, can you believe me, please, I didn't want to be too indiscreet when I came into your room".

"My teenager's room... more precisely" he whistled between his teeth, "I'm not blind, I see you with my brothers, laughing...".

Surprise, you chain " Yes we get along well, I like them, they are nice ".

"What about me? Do you like me? " he asks with a hint of vulnerability in his voice.

"I don't know you as well as you know your brothers, Ivar, you seem... special, but not in a bad way, you are mysterious... and I like that", you gently caress his hand.

Ivar quickly and firmly passes his hand behind your neck, he crushes his lips against yours. You kiss him back, your body is on fire from the inside, your stomach is boiling, you feel palpitations in your belly. His tongue mixes with yours, he pushes you to his desk, his body crashes against yours. He passes his other hand under the hem of your dress to caress your hip. He brings his kiss down to your neck. You feel his tongue travel a soft path from your mouth to your collarbone, you groan under his caresses. Suddenly, he stops, looking at you with a slight perversion.

"I think we have to go back or else my brothers will come looking for us.”

You couldn't even find words to nod, you followed Ivar to the table, pretending to get lost. The dinner ended quietly, it was time for you to go home, you thanked Aslaug for his excellent food. Hvitserk insists on dropping you off at home, but you have already paid your Uber in advance. You go back to your apartment, thinking about the best kiss of your life, have a beer in your fridge and settle down on your couch, turn on the TV, there's no way you can sleep now, your mind is too boiling. Someone rings your doorbell, strange because you're not expecting anyone, especially at this hour. You open the door and you find... Ivar...

Oh no, the night is going to be complicated...

@youbloodymadgenius​ @therealcalicali​ @peaceisadirtyword​ @zuxiezendler​ @flowers-in-your-hayr​ @vikingsbifrost​ @vikings-imagine​ @hvitserkmarcosource​

[alch3mic]

in between. (drabble series)

chapter three (words.)

prince!sans x gender neutral reader. 3k+ word count.

please be advised for themes of anxiety, panic attacks, self-doubt, some light cursing and sadness.

* the third chapter of the series, this time focusing on our dear underswap sans, prince! he has no official fic as of yet but has his own tag here on my tumblr that you can check out if you wish to learn more about him! thank you all very much and i hope you enjoy!

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words shall never hurt me.

....

Bullshit.

...Whoever came up with that stupid rhyme must've never heard a cruel word spoken to them in their life!

...

...Or maybe they were trying to sell themselves the world's biggest lie...

....Because... words.. hurt.

They snapped.

They stung.

They burned.

They engraved themselves upon his bones as permanent reminder of his worth.

"Coward."

"Freak!"

"Idiot."

"Weirdo."

They sloshed and swirled inside his skull, drowning him in the waves of their meaning,  pulling him down further and further with their weight like an anchor tied to his legs. They sang like a horrid symphony that refused to let him rest, violins screeching their painful notes while the drums bellowed out their laughter at him.

It was so loud.

So loud.

So.. damn.. loud...!

He..!

Couldn't think.

He couldn't breathe, he was...!

....

...Shaking.

He could hear his bones rattling as an accompaniment to the symphony of word in his head, his eyelights refusing to focus and the world practically became a blur around him. Every single thing was fading from his sight. The colors, the shapes, all of it falling away as the sounds sang louder and louder, drowning everything else out. The air felt putrid with every breath he tried to take in, making him want to gag on the horrid taste of it all.

"...ns.."

..Why..

Why did he think he could do this..!

After... what they said to him..!

After everything they.. they..!

..No...

No..!

He was..!

"......ans..!"

His teeth were chattering.

Clicking.

Tapping.

Adding to the unending concert of syllables as they picked up their pace and momentum. They were hitting their high point, the music of words becoming louder.. and faster and..!

His soul was pounding so painfully too, he feared it might just burst from his ribcage.

"sans!"

Panic.

He was panicking and.. and..!

He needed to..!

...

..Papyrus..

...

He could barely make out his brother's features anymore, his name becoming lost to the noises eating him alive.

What was he saying...?

'breathe.'

No.. he.. he couldn't..

He was choking.

Coughing.

Sputtering.

The air was refusing to enter his body anymore no matter how hard he tried.

The air was just too..!

He.. he couldn't..!

His magic was buzzing as it couldn't ventilate properly, straining and pulling against him, making his head spin further out of control.

He..

He couldn't do this.

He.. wasn't.. strong enough..

"You're.. not the person I once knew."

The words they were..

They were going to.. swallow him whole.

"Look at what you've become!"

"What's happened to you, Sans?"

He doesn't know.

He doesn't know!

He doesn't-!

"You're nothing but a shadow of yourself now."

No-! He's-!

He's still here!

He's still himself!

He's just-!

Just...!

"W-w-why di-did you... b-become l-like...this..?"

How the hell was he suppose to know!!

"...How.. disappointing.."

The words were..

Breaking him.

It hurt.

It hurt.

It hurt!

It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt! It hurt!

"sans!"

No.. please..

..Not him too.

Please.. he..

Couldn't take it anymore.

It was too loud it..!

It hurt too much.. he... he had to get away!

He had to get away..!

From this!

From them!

From those people he thought were...!

Just... get away...!

GET AWAY FROM HIM!

GET AWAY!

GET AWAY!

GET AWAY!

.....

And so he ran.

....

Or... he tried, until his brother caught his arm.

"sans! wait, please-!"

But he snatched his arms back, not wanting to hear anything anymore.

He just couldn't...

..Take anymore words...

.....

So he fled...

Out of the room.

Down the hall.

And away from those people...

....

His shoes were stomping against the floor as the tears filled his eyesockets, making the once blurry world a complete mess of runny colors and odd shapes.

How stupid was he... to believe he was strong enough to face them.

After everything they went through.

After everything they said-!

..He was..

....

He was still a coward.

....

And so he fled, like cowards do, every bone in his body screaming at him to just keep going far, far away from the source of those painful word.

From the people who.. he thought he trusted, a long time ago.

Who he thought would understand, but in the end they...

....

..Mocked him..

"The sky?"

He still remembers the disbelief on their features.

"Wait.. seriously? That's why you've been hiding inside? You're scared of the sky?"

...Yes...

"Sans it can't hurt you. Everything fine."

...He.. knows that...

"Then why?"

He.. doesn't know....

"I can't believe this!"

He.. can't either..

..What was...

...What was wrong with him?

"You're nothing like the skeleton I knew before."

..No.. he' still..

...Here..

"What happened to him?"

He doesn't know..!

Stop.. talking to him like he's someone else..!

He's right here!

He's still right here!

Why are they...?

"What happened to the 'Wonderful' and 'Magnificent' Sans?"

HE DOESN'T KNOW!

.....

...He just... doesn't... know anymore.

....

..Just like now, he didn't know where he was running to.

He didn't have much of a destination in mind, just that he had to go.

He just wanted to get.. away..

"ˢᵃⁿˢ!"

Just get away...

Away from this.

From the pain.

From the looks on their damned faces as they spoke those hurtful words that tore his mind and soul apart piece by piece.

They treated him like he wasn't aware of what he's become!

As if he didn't wish with every damn fiber of magic in his body that he wasn't like this!

A coward!

A disappointment!

An idiot who's so afraid of the open world around him that he couldn't even step outside anymore!

He-!

He wanted to go back.

He wanted to go back...! He wanted to go back!

He wanted to go back to who he was, before all of this but..!

....

The person he once was... was gone...

..He vanished into thin air the moment he took one look up at that sky on that fateful day..

...And the terror he felt had almost swallowed him whole....

..Or maybe it did.. and all that was left was a husk of a skeleton who use to have more confidence than he knew what to do with.

Now the simplest of words could.. break him.

And that.. was the hardest thing of all to accept.

....That somewhere along the way he had..

...

...changed.

And so.. like a coward he ran, wanting to hide somewhere no one would find him so he could lay there for all of eternity without a single thought in his head until he dusted. He was tired of this. He was tired of feeling this way! He was tired of them and these walls and that damned sky that struck fear into his bones every time he looked at it.

Why..?

Why..!?

Why couldn't he be.. him?!

Where did he go?

When did he lose himself..?

Who...

..Who was he...?

The quiet hallways threatened to split his head open as his thoughts poured all over the place, causing his soul to spasm and spiral out of control while he desperately tried to breathe in, but the air still refused to enter his lungs.

He needed something..!

Something to replace the noise..!

All of his hiding spots were inside and if he stewed in his thoughts much longer he really was going to come undone!

He just needed.. something...

Anything..!

Make it stop.

Make it stop!

MAKE IT STOP!

Woosh.

....

He drew in a heavy breath, all at once the scent of rain hitting his nasal bone and the sounds of water hitting the roof, disrupting the symphony.

Softly.

Gently.

Then harder, tapping and thundering against the roof as it...

Washed away the words inside is head.

....

...But they were still singing.

Even the sounds weren't enough.. he...

Glanced further down the hall, to a set of doors that led...

..Outside...

...

...

He swallowed, desperately chasing the harmony that made all the words fade away and taking a few careful steps towards it...

"ˢᵃⁿˢ!"

.....

Before running off.

....

..Right through the doors, throwing them open with what strength he had left and letting them close behind him as he bolted out into the rain.

It splattered and splashed against the tile, filling his head with nothing but their sounds as the droplets tapped against his empty skull. That tight burst of energy was fading from his chest, gradually falling further and further away as the fatigue set into his bones and he slowed down.

He finally come to a stop in the middle of the garden.

Gasping and heaving, he finally managed to take in some  fresh air that filled his body with its cold embrace and overwhelmed his humming soul with relief. The rattling of his bones ceased... and soon he gained control over his breaths, willing his legs to take just a few more tiny strides further out to where no one could find him.

Out, past the normal confines of the garden and into some rose bushes...

...

He was.. exhausted..

Glancing around, the normally pink flowers scattered along the bushes were diluted by the cloudy skies above and harsh rain that thundered all around them. His shirt now stuck to his bones, sending a chill down his spine and making him feel heavy but.. he didn't care.

The symphony had silenced.. leaving him..

..Empty...

...and alone.

....

..Eventually it was all to much as his legs gave out, sitting down to the muddy ground and placing his skull on his knees as the world continued to rain down on him.

And it poured.

And it poured.

And it poured.

All alone in the garden, without a single thought in his head, Sans suffered.

The pain of it all marched on in his bones, gripping and grinding, threatening to break him apart bit by bit.

It hurt so badly and yet..

Yet there were no sticks, and no stones.

Just words.. and the marks they had left on his soul.

And it hurt.

And it hurt.

And it hurt.

And he was sure he would finally just break...

And his soul would finally give in..

And he'd come undone at the seams.

And...

It.. stopped.....?

He could still hear the sounds of the rain all around him, crashing and thundering upon the bushes and muddy grass, but it stopped tapping against his skull and instead began hitting something... else.

An umbrella..?

Sans picked his head slowly, still having so little energy after his fit of panic and looked up.

You smiled at him sweetly as you stood beside him, holding up an umbrella above as the world continuing its downpour.

..Ah...

...You..

....sat down.. right beside him in the mud, sheltering the both of you under the clear plastic umbrella as you glancing up at the clouded sky with a small look of peace on your features.

..Not a single word uttered from your lips.

..Instead you sat by him..

And even in the dull and grey world around you both..

He swore he could see your eyes shine.

He.. didn't know what to say.

The words just didn't come.

Normally his whole head would be buzzing of things to blurt when you were around, but they were all washed away with the rain.

...

..But maybe he didn't need to say.. anything.

At least not right now..

So slowly he let go of the tension in his chest, relaxing his shoulders and taking a few deep breaths as his eyelights also hesitantly traveled to the sky above. That once endless blue abyss was now covered under a patchwork of gray clouds making that ceaseless void just.. disappear.

In a way he almost felt like he was back underneath the mountain again and.. a strange form of peace also found its way to his soul.

...As did the tears.

Quietly they gathered, because even when the words weren't present in his mind.. his body still ached from the pain that they had caused. Somehow it even felt worse than any sticks, stones or even broken bones. Nobody could believe how much he was hurting because there were no physical wounds, just the throb left in his soul from their brutality. They ached in a way that couldn't be healed by magic... in a way that couldn't be explained or cured..

It's clear that they had.. no idea what they were doing to him anymore.

How badly their words had hurt him, because he tried to hide it all under fake smiles.

He wasn't.. unbreakable anymore.

Somewhere along the way.. he had become so fragile...

And yet they still stacked all of their expectations on top of him.

...Then they mocked him when he just couldn't keep up...

....

He..

...blinked once, catching something on his peripheral vision and glancing towards you again.

Carefully you held out a handkerchief to him.

....That was..

The same one he gave you... those few months ago, when those delicate tears had been falling from your eyes.

....

"...I..." he began softly, tearing away his gaze for a moment as a wave of embarrassment washed over him at his current state.

He was a complete mess with his shirt coming undone, soaked to the bone and his eyesockets brimming with tears.

"..THANK YOU.."

All this time he had built himself up to you as a perfect prince.

He was so desperate for you to.. see him as that....

Kind, strong, charming.. and most of all brave.

..And.. now he's tarnished all that hard work by running and crying in the rose bushes like a coward. Still, he tried to gather what remained of that broken image and took the handkerchief from your hands, wiping away his eyesockets.

Heh...

He really was pathetic wasn't he..?

And.. a liar.

....And you..

Must surely hate him now.

"...FORGIVE ME, MY DEAR.. I JUST.."

The words left again as the rain stole them all away with their pitter and pattering...

"It's okay," you said softly gifting him that gentle smile of yours again. "There's no need to apologize or explain yourself to me."

..Why..?

Everyone else practically demanded an explanation out of him.

Why was he like this?

Why did he lock himself up inside?

...Surely you wanted to know too right?

So, why were you..?

You didn't say anything else..

And neither did he.

So the two of you sat quietly in the middle of the rose bushes as the world poured out it's tears all around you for what felt like a small eternity.

Until he stood up suddenly and pocketed that handkerchief.

"..Sans..?"

He smiled at you rather sadly, but offered his hand. You clearly look up at him a little confused and a bit worried, but didn't hesitate to take it as he helped you stand up as well. The both of you were coated in mud now and the refreshing rain began tapping on his skull once again.

"..Did you want to go back..?"

"...NO," he said softly, taking a moment to admire then gentleness in your expression. "BUT STRANGELY I DON'T FEEL MUCH LIKE SITTING IN THE MUD AND CRYING ANYMORE EITHER.. SO.."

The words threatened to leave again, but he shook his head and steeled his resolve.

"WOULD YOU DANCE WITH ME?"

..He couldn't help but love that surprised look on your face...

..But he loved it even more when you smiled at him, and without a single moment hesitation you threw the umbrella to the ground and let the rain begin to douse you too. He lightly took your hand in his, placing the other on the wonderful curve of your hip as you put your free hand on his shoulder. The two of you fell into an easy and comfortable rhythm, the same one the two of you always fell into when you danced, with nothing but the downpour to accompany you as you swayed.

Just like with the rain, you always brought such an easiness to his soul.

You were always so refreshing and calm, and with you it always seemed like his troubles were so far away. A part of him really believed he could just be himself around you..

..Perhaps that's why he's always so desperate to hide it all behind charming smiles and lavish words..

He didn't want to.. scare you away.

He didn't want you to look at him in that way everyone else did.

He wanted to keep you right here, with the rain dousing you both as your clothes stuck to your form, with wet hair and a sweet and gentle smile that was reserved just for him.

....

..He..

He wanted this to be the fairytale he always read about as a babybones...

With a truly happy ending...

And he really thought he had it now that he had you with him here...

No longer a friend just visiting, but... you now called his place your home.

And you gave him your love.

....

..But.. life keeps going.

And the past.. comes back to haunt you in the shapes of people who you once thought of as friends.

.....

....Would you..

...Become the same way.. one day..?

.....Was this happily ever after.. only temporary..?

He.. didn't want to let go..

He wanted to stay here, under the rain and lost in this fantasy...

..but he did, staring at the wonderful expression on your face as you took the hand from his shoulder and lightly placed it on his cheek. It was a touch so gentle and full of love, he couldn't help but lean in to it and let out a small breath.

"CAN YOU PROMISE ME SOMETHING, MY DEAR..?"

"..What is it..?"

He hesitated for a moment, watching as the droplets of rain gently glided down your face, dousing your hair and your clothes.

"...WOULD YOU..?"

..Again the words fell away.

He took in a struggling breath, trying to push them out but his fears kept them wound tightly inside his chest. He never wanted to be without you again. He never wanted to think of a day where he would wake up and you wouldn't be by his side. He couldn't stand the thought of you becoming... like them..

You were.. so good.. and.. he was...

"Sans."

...

..He never wanted a day again where you wouldn't say his name so tenderly...

....

You took your other hand from his and also placed it on his face.

"I promise, I'm not going anywhere."

....

"I'll always be right here for you."

.....

"Because there's no one else in the world I love quite as much as the skeleton here before me right now."

....

You loved.. him..

Not the person he was before.

...But him.. as he was now..

....

..And that's exactly why he could never let you go...

So instead he pulled you close, burying himself in the comfort of the crook of your neck and letting those quiet words of love soak into his bones..

Softly.

Gently.

Then harder, tapping and thundering against his soul as it...

Washed away the words inside is head.

...

..Only leaving him with thoughts of you.

...

And...

How he will do anything to desperately hold on to this.. 

...happily ever after...

[adoredontour]

all the fics i read and loved this month, in order from longest to shortest!

For As Long As I Can Remember (It’s Been December) by green_feelings @greenfeelings 128k

After recovering from a severe accident that causes Harry to lose his memory of three years, he moves to London to start his life over as a star chef. Little does he know that when he falls in love with Louis at first sight, it’s not the first time they meet.

Featuring an unintentional game of hot and cold, Harry chasing memories that won’t come back, Louis burying himself in work to try and forget what he can’t forget, Liam being torn between two of his best friends, Zayn as a moral compass and Niall saving the day with good music and brutal honesty.

got the sunshine on my shoulders by hattalove 124k

five years ago, harry styles left his tiny home town to make it big as a recording artist. he didn't have much regard for what he left behind - a life, a family, and a husband, who woke up one morning to find him gone.

now, harry has everything he could possibly want: he's rich, famous, and adored by everyone he meets, including his boyfriend. but when said boyfriend proposes to him, he's forced to face the uncomfortable facts of his past - and louis, who's spent the last five years returning every set of divorce papers harry sent him.

(or, an au based on the movie sweet home alabama.)

Tired Tired Sea by MediaWhore 113k

As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.

nothing worsens, nothing grows by soldouthaz @soldouthaz 102k

and he sits there quietly with harry’s headphones in his ears while his eyes begin to close, totally unaware that he’s listening to the soundtrack of harry falling in love with him.

or, another roadtrip au featuring harry as the misunderstood hipster, louis as the bitter psych major, liam as the one with the secret boyfriend, and niall as the one who just wants everyone to be happy.

& more under the cut!

Follow Your Arrow by bitter_leaf @bitter-leaf 78k

Harry was the golden child, blessed in every way; Niall was the charming miscreant, a bad boy; Liam was the future-son-in-law parents of daughters dreamt of, and Zayn was the kid parents wished was their son. But Louis, Harry thought, Louis was the special one.

It's senior year and everything is about to change.

somethin’ bout you by missandrogyny @missandrogyny 59k

Of all the government agents in the world, Louis had to go and land the most charming one.

The Recklessness in Water by LarryOn @larryonsimon 50k

Louis Tomlinson is miserable. He's stuck on a family vacation at a lake cabin in New Hampshire when all he wants to do is bemoan his sorry existence and wallow in his sweatpants. As if the humidity and mosquitos weren't bad enough, he becomes the singular target of an obnoxious lifeguard named Harry.

Missed Connection by littlelouishiccups @littlelouishiccups 39k

Soulmate AU where your soulmate’s first words to you are tattooed on your skin.

With a boring and generic soul mark like Hi, Harry is pessimistic he’ll ever find his soulmate or that he’ll realize it when he meets them. But he could always have it worse, like his new friend Louis who had a drunken one night stand with his soulmate a few years ago and woke up the next morning alone.

before we knew by falsegoodnight @risthebrave 39k

“C’mon Lou,” says Zayn after a moment, He sounds even more exasperated than before. Louis sort of has a knack for exasperating people, especially people like Zayn who aren’t usually bothered by his brattiness. “Can’t you give this guy a chance? Harry Styles? Aren’t you curious about him at all?”

Despite his best efforts, Louis still flinches at the name. He really shouldn’t be so affected after all these years. He’s seen the name printed down the curve of his waist in obnoxiously and uncommonly large loopy letters every single day since his sixteenth birthday eight years ago. He’s very familiar with the name Harry Styles.

It sounds pretentious and Louis hates it.

He hates everything about his supposed soulmate.

He hates his large handwriting that stands out like a claim on his skin whenever he’s walking around shirtless. He hates his pretentious name. And now he hates his supposed curls and green eyes and dimples.

-

Or Louis has been skeptical of soulmates for years so it seems like fate when he finally bumps into the owner of the obnoxiously large signature printed into his skin since age sixteen: Harry Styles, a human rights attorney who is firmly against soulmates.

what’s mine is yours to make your own by soldouthaz @soldouthaz 39k

sometimes, the closest harry ever feels to home is louis. it's their shared hotel rooms on tour, their shoes toed off in the doorway next to each other, jackets hung on the same post.

it's everything he doesn't notice until it's been taken away from him.

And Touch Me Like You Never by runaway_train @runaway-train-works 35k

“Lets move back a bit yeah?” Harry clutches at his waist with a free hand and tugs him to move through the crowd until they are almost at the back of the group and settles them both beside the far wall. “There. That better?”

Louis looks up at him, as if he’s a tad dazed. “Uh, yeah, thanks. Can’t really see much from back here either though.”

Harry lifts a shoulder and grins at him, placing a hand on the wall behind Louis to pen him in. “We’ll just have to create our own fireworks then, won’t we?” He says it jokingly with a wink, and Louis laughs but he seems nervous. He must know that Harry is harmlessly flirting. Harry flirts with everyone after all, including Louis.

“Do you think this is a good idea Haz?” Louis asks quietly, almost too quietly in the clamour of the room, his head bowed as he scuffs his shoe on the carpet.

“Stop over thinking it Lou, it’s one kiss. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Or

The one where Harry and Louis agree to be each other's New Year's kiss and it ends up being a lot more than they bargained for.

last blues for bloody knuckles by creamcoffeelou @2ofusmp4

Styles was a name everyone knew. It had evolved into something of a fairy tale, a far away problem that normal people didn’t have to deal with. Louis never thought he’d find himself falling in love with him. When he finds himself pregnant with Harry’s child, he knows he has to leave the life, and Harry, behind. For her sake.

He never expected Harry to show back up on his doorstep five years later.

A mob au.

like it’s a game by soldouthaz @soldouthaz 32k

there is little harry hates more than truth or dare.

and louis.

gathered on wings by Brooklyn_Babylon @twopoppies 32k

As Harry lay by Louis’ side, covered in sweat and come, he knew he should feel ugly, messy, ruined, like the life he’d left behind. But something about the way Louis looked at him, the way his eyes stared at him with want and awe, made Harry wonder if he’d ever feel this beautiful again.

Harry rolled his eyes at himself for his momentary romantic dreaminess. As good as this was, he knew it was nothing more than sex. He literally couldn’t afford to fall for just anyone, no matter how fit they were.

-----

What Harry Styles wanted was to be taken seriously as an artist. What he needed was a new sugar daddy to pave the way. Louis Tomlinson is an artist who isn’t what Harry is looking for. Somehow he still manages to turn Harry's world upside down.

let’s make a thing of cream and stars by missandrogyny @missandrogyny 24k

It doesn't explain why he's lying on the floor, with Harry Styles, of all people, planking on top of him.

As in, seventeenth most influential person in London, pop-star-turned-rock-star Harry Styles. The same Harry Styles who has had countless model girlfriends, left, right and centre. Also the same Harry Styles who has been the subject of Louis' wet dreams since he was about eighteen.

(Or: Louis is a Radio 1 DJ and Harry is a pop-star he interviews.)

Strong Enough by jacaranda_bloom @jacaranda-bloom 21k

The biggest obstacle is still in place, firmly ensconced as a roadblock, cemented in their path and preventing them from moving forward. The thing is, it’s not actually Harry that’s the problem. Harry, for all his faults, for whatever decisions he’s made to lead to him to where he is in his life right now, would move heaven and earth and all that’s in between to help Liam, to support him. No. It’s Louis. He’s the one that has to reach out. He’s the one that has to let go and get the fuck over himself. It’s been five years for Christ's sake. It’s time to move on and suck it up.

“So…” Liam starts, and Louis instantly knows where this is going. He’s actually glad that it’s Liam that drags the subject out from the shadows and into the world. Louis turns to face him, mirroring his position on the couch and nods, ready for him to continue. “Have you spoken to Harry recently?”

Five years after Vertigo goes on hiatus, the band comes back together for a benefit concert. Can Louis and Harry work through their complicated past, or are some wounds too deep to be healed?

you flower, you feast by stylinsoncity @aliensingucci 18k

He's King of the Underworld, but don't assume Louis has it all. He could stand for some excitement in his monotonous, eternal life and maybe, even.....a soulmate.

(Despite not having a soul.)

And along came "Harry".

The Orchards of Jessop by jaerie @jaerie 15k

At age 40, there isn’t much excitement in widower Louis Tomlinson’s life, but wasn’t that the reason he’d moved to Jessop Island in the first place? Back then he hadn’t thought retiring before he reached 30 and moving to the countryside would mean that he’d be doing it alone. Now, just to fill the space, he welcomes lodgers into his home that pass through working as temporary labourers at the orchards just up the road. They’ve all been young adults eager to start lives of their own after one last summer of freedom.

All of them have been much the same, coming and going from Louis’ house with just enough social interaction to keep the house from feeling so empty. But when a global pandemic shuts down the world, being quarantined with a quiet twenty year old who keeps to himself might turn out to be an awkward arrangement. By the time the restrictions have been lifted, their relationship has developed into something Louis isn’t quite ready to give up. With their twenty year age difference, Louis has to be prepared for the inevitable outcome when the reality shatters the private world they’ve been living in. He’s not sure he’ll be able to let it go.

if i had the chance, the things i would do to you by missandrogyny @missandrogyny 14k

Niall sighs. He leans forward, pushing his mug of tea carefully to the side, before bracing his elbows on the table, chin in his hands. It makes him look like some sort of bottle-blonde cherub. "You have quite the fanbase, Harry. I'm not denying that. And you've done a good job of popping out every once in a while in the past two years, just to make sure you're still talked about. But that's all you've done, and I'm not satisfied. I want more." He blinks at Harry. "Don't you want more?"

(Or: AU where Harry and Louis compete in the Lip Sync Battle)

One Way Road To Something Better by femstyles @femstyles 12k

Four years ago when Louis and Harry moved in together, Louis promised Anne that he’d take care of Harry no matter what. But things don’t always go as planned, and sometimes risky choices have to be made.

Inspired by Don't Let It Break Your Heart

baby look what you’ve done to me by ballsdeepinjesus 9k

The next day kind of turns everything upside down, though. Louis gets another lingerie catalogue addressed to Harry. He’s about to toss it when he sees a personalized note stuck to the front; it thanks Harry for his previous purchases and offers him a complimentary six-month subscription to their magazine free of charge. It’s a unisex lingerie catalogue. Lingerie specifically designed to allow for the existence of penises, apparently, judging from the bulging cocks covered in lace that he sees as he flips through the pages. His breath catches in his throat at the thought of a faceless Harry -- mysterious, odd Harry -- dressed up in his purchases, whatever they may be.

He thinks he needs a lie down, to be honest.

[louis moves into harry's old flat. harry gets a lot of mail.]

golden hearts (light their way back down) by fairytalelights @lookslikefairytale 4k

“..So, top or bottom?” Louis asks when Harry tunes back in. And... what? Harry knew he should have been paying more attention but he has no idea how in the hell Louis explaining camp rules to him could have led to discussing sexual preferences this quickly. He must have smiled and nodded at the wrong place one too many times.

or, the one where Harry’s first day as a summer camp counsellor doesn’t go quite as planned.

Still, Somehow, You’re Perfect Now  by FallingLikeThis @fallinglikethis 3k

Harry Styles is Captain of the footie team and all-around popular dude-bro-pal to the entire senior class. He’s kind to everyone from what Louis Tomlinson can tell, and kinder still when he thinks no one is looking. Of course, Louis has been looking. Ever since he transferred schools at the beginning of the year and noticed Harry for the first time, it’s been hard to look away.

All My Friends Are Here by abrighteryellow 

He is about to decline, though. If he has to sit through forced merriment, the least he can do is avoid participation at all costs. He is about to, but then the guy with the microphone is looking out into the crowd. He’s saying things, too — about rules and prizes and team names. At least, Louis assumes so. He can’t really hear him over the ringing in his ears.

“Alright, mate. I’ll play.”

A pub quiz has invaded Louis’s favorite dive. Fortunately, it comes with a charming host.

Front porch and one more kiss by Femstyles @femstyles <1k

A goodnight kiss on a front porch

BONUS: (rereads)

Unbelievers by isthatyoularry @isthatyoularry 136k

It’s Louis’ senior year, and he’s dead set on doing it right. However, along with his pair of cleats, a healthy dose of sarcasm and his ridiculous best friend, he’s also got a complicated family, a terrifyingly uncertain future, and a mortal enemy making his life just that much worse. Mortal enemies “with benefits” was not exactly the plan.

Or: The one where Louis and Harry definitely aren’t friends, and football is everything.

Close to Nowhere by angelichl @angelichl 34k

“I will kill you in your sleep,” Louis threatened as he quickly stepped out of his jeans.

“I don’t think that would work very well baby, seeing as you talk to dead people all the time.”

“I’ll kill you in your sleep and ignore your ghost. And don’t call me that.”

Louis and Harry are psychics who kind of hate each other. They go to Tennessee to investigate a haunting.

led by your beating heart by missandrogyny @missandrogyny 24k

Nick leans over. "Oh," he says, his voice smug. "Who is that?"

Harry just blinks at his phone. "Um," he manages to stammer out.

"Who's that, Harry?" Nick asks again, but this time he raises his eyebrows and smirks. Harry knows Nick is just teasing, and that he's not really looking for new Harry Styles gossip, but, um. He might have found something. Accidentally.

Harry opens his mouth to speak, but all that comes out is another 'um'. He really needs to work on translating his thoughts into words. But then it probably wouldn't be any helpful right now, would it? His mind is as blank as a newly erased etch-a-sketch.

"Oh," Nick says again, this time gleefully, seemingly having picked up on Harry's distress. "Looks like we've got a story here! Are you going to call or delete her number?"

Her number. So Nick thinks it's a girl. Well, Harry can't blame him: 'Lou' is kind of an androgynous nickname. His stylist's name is Lou.

But this Lou, well, Louis, he's kind of, really, really not a girl. He's really pretty though, which, is something.

(Or: AU where Harry's in One Direction, Louis isn't, and they reconnect over a game of 'Call or Delete'.)

[aliciameade]

A Thousand Cuts

Title: A Thousand Cuts Author: aliciameade Rating: M for alcoholism and angst Pairing: Beca/Chloe Summary: Beca doesn't realize she needs to get her shit together until it's too late, or, my take on a prompt I was sent to write something based on Taylor Swift’s “Death by a Thousand Cuts.”

Also on AO3

My heart, my hips, my body, my love / Trying to find a part of me that you didn't touch

Gave up on me like I was a bad drug / Now I'm searching for signs in a haunted club

Our songs, our films, united, we stand / Our country, guess it was a lawless land 

Quiet my fears with the touch of your hand / Paper cut stings from my paper-thin plans 

My time, my wine, my spirit, my trust / Trying to find a part of me you didn't take up 

Gave you so much, but it wasn't enough / But I'll be alright, it's just a thousand cuts

“You don’t mean that.” Beca’s voice cracks over the words; she’s moments from crying and she knows it.

Chloe’s already crying. “The hell I don’t.” Her voice is steady despite the tears. Her jaw is set, the muscles in her left cheek tensing with how hard she’s clenching it.

“Where am I supposed to go?” That’s when the first tear finally hits Beca’s cheek. They don’t stop after that and she doesn’t bother trying to wipe them away. “I don’t know anyone else here!”

“That’s not my problem.” Chloe walks away so abruptly, steps so heavy it makes Beca jump. She’s digging through the trunk that sits at the foot of their bed and pulls out Beca’s duffel bag to toss it onto the bed. “Pack. And get the rest of your shit out before the end of the month whenever I’m not here or I’m throwing it all away.”

Beca’s sure this must be what it feels like for the earth to swallow one whole. Her world’s been ripped out from beneath her feet.

The thing is, it’s her fault. She can’t argue that it’s not. She could have tried harder, not allowed herself to grow complacent. Chloe was someone who loves with her entire being, every inch of her soul. And Beca adores her. Loves her. But she has struggled to keep up with just how much Chloe needs from her in return for all the love she gives Beca. Truth be told, it’s scared the shit out of Beca since the day they exchanged their first ‘I love yous.’ She had even prefaced her confession by saying she will probably mess it all up.

Fucking self-fulfilling prophecies.

“I’m going for a walk,” Chloe says as she pushes past Beca more physically than necessary. “Don’t be here when I get back.”

When the door slams behind her, Beca fights the urge to crumple onto their bed and weep. They’d just made love on it this morning and she thinks if she touches it, it may burn her flesh.

Instead, she grabs the bag Chloe threw onto it and starts stuffing clothes and toiletries into it. Her head pounds and her chest aches with the need to sob but she won’t give this tiny apartment, their first home together as a couple. She fills the bag until she can’t zip it and throws her laptop into its case to swing them both over her shoulder.

On her way out the door, she rips a photo of the two of them in front of their Christmas tree last year off the fridge—not to destroy it, but to stuff it into her bag.

She wonders if Chloe will even notice it’s gone.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Beca takes the train into Manhattan. Brooklyn feels too small, too familiar. She wants the city to swallow her since the earth only pretended to. She doesn’t have a single New York-based contact in her phone except for the ramen house Chloe and she love and the main number for her office. She doesn’t particularly like her job and has made no effort to get to know anyone there. 

In the future, she’ll realize this could be a theme in her life.

She ends up at a hotel by Union Square. She can’t afford it. It’s nearly $200 for the night and it goes on an already precariously charged-up credit card. She’ll move to a hostel tomorrow; tonight, she needs privacy and space and the freedom to have the breakdown she’s been staving off for the two hours it’s been since Chloe told her it was over and threw her out of their home.

Once she gets to her room, she drops her bags on the floor and immediately throws up.

It’s the longest night of Beca’s life.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

She doesn’t get the rest of her belongings back. She’s living in a hostel in a room she shares with five other people, at least one of which is new every night. She has to wait her turn to use the bathroom and to shower and most of the time, there’s no hot water.

The good thing, she supposes as she tries day after day to find a single good thing in her life, is that at $35 per day, she can actually afford her room and board and even feed herself twice a day and keep her phone bill paid.

Thank God for ubiquitous free WiFi.

But that one good thing, just keeping herself in room and board, doesn’t do anything to outweigh all the bad.

She hasn’t spoken to or heard from Chloe in two months. There was no final warning about coming to get her belongings or they’d be trashed. Chloe hasn’t checked in with her a single time.

Not that Beca’s reached out to Chloe either.

She’d thought escaping Brooklyn would help protect herself. Far from away all their usual haunts, she would be safer from the constant reminders of all the moments she and Chloe shared in the year-and-a-half they spent living together there.

Instead, she’s faced with bigger reminders in Manhattan. So many date nights spent there at restaurants and concert venues and theatres and sunset strolls through parks.

“Oh, my gosh, baby, this is so romantic, we have to take a selfie,” Chloe said as she grabbed Beca’s hands to spin them in a circle that almost had Beca tripping over her own feet. “Wait, no! Excuse me, sir?” Chloe asked a passerby. “Would you take our picture, please?”

“Sure,” he said as Chloe handed him her phone. “Tell me when.”

“Just take a bunch,” Chloe answered before Beca had even had a chance to weakly and pointlessly protest the impromptu photoshoot.

Then they were kissing on Gapstow Bridge with Central Park and the New York skyline behind them and Beca forgot why she would ever want to protest such a thing.

She can’t even walk through Times Square without her eyes pricking with tears at the memory of Chloe dragging Beca up the red stairs in the middle of a snowstorm to take a selfie at the top while they kissed wearing beanies and scarves and gloves.

The photo came out looking like they were in a snow globe and felt as magical as it looked. It’s saved in her favorites on her phone, but she refuses to let herself look through that album.

Even when she’s alone at night in a strange place that is her home but feels nothing like it, Chloe is everywhere. She can feel her phantom arms around her waist to pull Beca back against her to settle into sleep. In the shower, her hands travel over her body and she remembers all the times and all the ways Chloe has touched her here, and here, and here.

Alcohol doesn’t help, though Beca gives it her best shot.

It leads to her waking up in the beds of people whose names she only sometimes remembers.

A man she goes home with makes her leave when she won’t stop crying when he tries to touch her.

A woman she goes home with spends the night holding her. They even have sex, finally, in the early hours of the morning. But all Beca can think about is how it’s not right. How she isn’t Chloe and she doesn’t know how to touch Beca as Chloe does. It does nothing to help Beca forget or move on. In fact, it only makes her miss Chloe more.

She stops trying to escape into other people and goes back to drinking alone. It’s cheaper that way, too, which is a nice bonus. One bottle of whiskey runs her $40 which gives her far more drinks for her dollar compared to going to bars.

Eventually, she finds someone in need of a roommate through a coworker and she has a room to herself in Washington Heights. Her roommate is nice, a few years older than Beca, and works for the city’s child services department. She’s a good listener on the rare occasions Beca confides in her when her emotions become too much to take alone.

It turns into a relationship of convenience. They both acknowledge that’s what it is and that they’re setting themselves up for disaster if (when) it ends because someone (Beca) is going to have to move out when things become too messy.

But until that happens, it’s nice to feel at least somewhat normal again. She doesn’t feel like she’s ready to fall apart if someone looks at her the wrong way on the street.

She still thinks about Chloe at least once every minute when she’s conscious.

And usually, even when she’s not.

She knows she’s fixating. It’s too hard to not spend as much energy as she can berating herself for messing up and losing Chloe. It’s delicious torture to hate herself so much and replay the details of every moment of their relationship and pick out every time she fucked up and think about how she could have done it differently, how she would do it differently if she had the chance.

What’s most irritating of all is that there is no one singular cataclysmic event she can blame. It was her series of micro-aggressions, so seemingly small (to Beca), that piled up until replying to Chloe’s multi-scroll-long text message telling Beca that she needed more from her with “k” got her thrown out on the street.

And she knew—knows—she deserved it.

She wishes she could go back in time and slap herself and tell her to get her shit together before she loses the best thing to ever happen to her.

But she can’t. She keeps drinking and it’s never enough to forget Chloe.

Eventually, her behavior lands her out on her ass again, but this time, she expects it. What girl wants her not-girlfriend crying about her ex every time they have sex? At least there’s a discussion first and she’s allowed a couple of weeks to find a new place to live.

A year has passed since she fucked up her relationship with Chloe but, somehow, she’s managed to get her professional life into something resembling moderate success. She’s surprised when she downloads bank statements at the balance in her account to have when she goes apartment hunting. She’s done nothing but pay rent to her now-ex-roommate and buy what few things she’s needed to get by (mostly alcohol). She thinks she remembers an email from HR about a bonus or royalty payout around Christmas…?

It affords her the ability to get her own apartment, a one-bedroom in Harlem.

It also affords her the freedom to indulge in all her vices without someone passing judgment. She can drink herself to blackout. She can have anonymous sex. She can cry until she’s sick or lay on the floor and stare at the ceiling all night in a drug-and-alcohol-induced stupor. None of it really matters, anyway.

She fits right in with the people she’s finding herself forced to be around more often. She gets wasted with colleagues and A-listers under the guise of networking. She impresses men with her ability to out-drink them despite her stature. And if one of them offers cocaine? She can be the last one standing in the early hours of the morning.

She prides herself on her endurance, though not more than she prides herself on the fact that no matter how hammered she gets, not once has she drunk-dialed Chloe to beg forgiveness.

She hasn’t dialed her at all, for that matter.

She’s never apologized.

She wants to point out that showing up at her former apartment building when it’s dark and the streets are empty repeatedly pressing the buzzer for what used to be her apartment is not drunk-dialing nor drunk-texting.

“Hello?” Chloe’s voice crackles through the shitty speaker and Beca slumps against the wall next to the metal intercom at the sound of it. “Is anyone there? I swear if you kids are pulling this shit again, I’m calling the cops.”

Beca laughs to herself, memories of a group of teenagers that roams the neighborhood raising havoc of the relatively painless variety. Things like Ding Dong Ditch and hiding delivered packages from their recipients. It always infuriated Chloe and made Beca laugh and tell her to calm down, they’re just kids and they could be getting into much worse kinds of trouble.

She considers continuing to ring the buzzer just to keep Chloe on the line; it’s been so long since she’s heard her voice. Maybe she could just sleep on the building’s stoop?

She’s still thinking about it when she hears the familiar squeak of the door opening.

“Beca?”

She wonders if maybe she finally passed out to slip into dreamland because Chloe’s standing in front of her in plaid sleep shorts and Beca’s favorite vintage David Bowie tee.

“Hey, babe,” she slurs.

“What are you doing here?” Chloe takes half a step out of the door and starts to reach for her but stops short. “Are you drunk?”

“What if I am?” she says as she pushes herself away from the wall to stand upright again, though everything feels like it’s tilting. She points. “That’s my shirt.”

Chloe crosses her arms over her chest as if that will hide it. “I asked what you’re doing here.”

Beca has to think hard. She doesn’t remember how she got to Brooklyn. She doesn’t know what time it is. “I’m tired,” she answers. “I came home.”

“You don’t live here anymore.”

“I didn’t say I live here. I said I came home.” She tries to walk forward but trips and finds herself caught by Chloe before she hurts herself. “Cat-like reflexes,” she says with a chuckle before catching the scent of the laundry detergent and lotion Chloe always uses and the tears come out of nowhere.

She’s vaguely aware that Chloe’s helping her walk and it’s up the stairs and into the apartment they once shared, not out to the curb.

The last thought that passes through her mind as Chloe helps her into what was always Beca’s side of the bed is that even through her blurry vision she can see a picture on the refrigerator. A copy of the same photo she’d taken with her the day Chloe had thrown her out, placed in the exact place the original had been for so long.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

She wakes to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. Her head throbs but not too painfully; she rarely gets hungover these days. She knows where she is. She knows the feel of the bed, the softness of the sheets, the scent of breakfast and the sound of the quiet tings and thuds of cabinets opening and closing, of plates, mugs, spoons, and knives.

She doesn’t want to open her eyes. Maybe if she pretends to be asleep she could stay there all day without having to be embarrassed by her actions. She can just hold onto this unexpected return to a past life for a few more minutes before it’s ripped away from her again.

She starts when the sound of a mug being placed on the nightstand near her head comes unexpectedly.

“Morning,” Chloe’s quiet, husky morning voice whispers as she sits on the edge of the bed next to Beca.

Beca grimaces and pulls the covers up over her head. “No.”

“I have to go to work.” Beca didn’t even think about the fact that it was a weekday. Her own schedule doesn’t conform to the typical Monday-through-Friday model. “But I’m going to call out sick for the afternoon and come back at lunch.”

Beca slips the covers down until they’re under her chin. She knows she looks like shit but Chloe looks more beautiful than she remembers her.

“You can stay here until then. Help yourself to breakfast. We’ll talk when I get home, okay?”

Beca just nods, afraid that anything more than that will wake her from whatever dream she’s having. She feels Chloe’s hand on her leg, a brief touch before she’s leaving too soon.

Beca watches her gather her things and leave the apartment, locking it with her keys.

She knows she should go back to sleep. Sleep off the last bits of the drunkenness she can still feel swimming in her. But she’s been thrown back into her old life, her old home, and like so many mornings, Chloe’s just gone to work after making coffee for Beca.

Slowly, she sits up to take in her surroundings. The small studio looks much like she’s remembered it. There’s a lot more of Chloe in it now, though. More photos of her and friends Beca’s never met. The band posters Beca had insisted on putting up have been replaced with generic canvas prints from Target that feature the Eiffel Tower and a recreation of a poster for la tournée du Chat Noir avec Rodolphe Salis. It makes her smile; Chloe’s always had an obsession with Paris and it had only gotten worse after they went to Denmark—but not France—in college.

Driven by her roiling stomach she forces herself out of bed. When she stands, she has to do a double-take looking down at herself. She’s not wearing the clothes she’d left her apartment in yesterday. She’s not even wearing pants. Her legs are bare and she plucks at the shirt she’s wearing to see it’s one of her old concert tees.

A memory flashes of last night, of Chloe in the doorway wearing Beca’s shirt.

It makes her feel lightheaded and she reaches for the coffee Chloe’s left bedside before crossing the room to the kitchen. Everything’s still in the same place and it’s mindless yet spine-tingling to go through the motions of finding something to eat in that room just as she’s done countless times in the past.

She plops down at the small table that she once imagined proposing to Chloe over on a Sunday morning over a cozy winter brunch they prepared together and is about to dig into her bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch that Chloe miraculously has on-hand despite claiming to hate it when she freezes, spoon halfway to her mouth.

On the clothing rack in the middle of the room, the one they had to fight over for valuable space, hang all of Beca’s clothes she’d left behind when she was forced to flee.

Her chair screeches as she pushes it back to rush over and quickly flip through the blouses, pants, and dresses she hasn’t seen in more than a year. She tugs open the third and then fourth drawers of the dresser they shared to find them both still stuffed full of underwear, bras, socks, tank tops, shorts, and Beca’s beanies and gloves she’d really missed that winter. She drops to her knees and reaches under the bed to find the sharp plastic edge of a storage bin and pulls it out. All her shoes, still in their place.

If not for the changes in decor, she would believe she never left. Nothing has changed since her last morning with Chloe.

It’s overwhelming. Chloe had threatened to throw everything away if Beca never picked it up. Beca never did, but Chloe didn’t follow through.

Her head swims and her eyes prick with tears. She thinks she might be sick from the rush of emotions and adrenaline; Chloe hadn’t tossed their life in the trash even though she’d tossed Beca to the curb.

She isn’t sick, though. Instead, she strips off her shirt and crawls into the bathtub and turns on the shower to sit under the spray and cry.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Beca’s heart races when she hears Chloe’s keys in the hallway seconds before they rattle in the lock. She watches the door open slowly, Chloe peeking in carefully until they find Beca sitting at the table.

“You’re awake,” she says as she enters with less care now that Beca’s not asleep. “Did you find something to eat? I brought lunch just in case.”

Beca’s eyes drop to the bag in Chloe’s hand; there are familiar round plastic take-out containers stacked in it and Beca doesn’t have to ask to know it’s from the ramen place they frequented. “I did, yeah.”

Chloe sets the bag on the table and Beca watches her take off and hang up her coat. When she turns back around, she pauses. “Oh.”

Beca wonders what she’s looking at until she realizes it’s Beca’s clothes. “You didn’t throw my stuff away.”

Chloe takes a break as though she’s about to speak but instead she sighs and says nothing in reply as she sits down in her chair to Beca’s left and starts unpacking the lunch she’s brought.

Beca catches her hand when it’s busy setting up soup and sides and Chloe’s entire body seems to flinch, but she doesn’t pull her hand away. “You didn’t throw me away, did you.”

Tears are welling in Chloe’s eyes when they meet Beca’s but she still doesn’t speak.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Beca rushes when she realizes she’s the one who has to do the talking. “But I do. Will you hear me out? Give me ten minutes. Five.”

“Okay,” Chloe says quietly as she pulls her hand back to resume passing out utensils.

Beca waits until she’s finished, until Chloe’s no longer distracting herself with busywork and her eyes land on Beca nervously so she can finally say, “I’m sorry, Chloe.”

The End

[shinobirain24]

Water and Ice- Chapter 11: Ransom

Vytyl Festival

A match where a young man with rusty red-brownish hair. And brown eyes, wearing a black tank and green jeans, and a caped draped on this right arm. Standing with three other huntsmen students against another team of four.

"And here we have Team VSTI, a team who attended Atlas Academy. Featuring their leader, a young man who led his missions into victories. Very smart and quick at his feet. Better watch out, cause he's poisonous. The one, and only, Carlos Vega!" Came to the announcement. A young Carlos then smiled and waved to the crowd. Holding a rose from his teeth.

Female students then get a glimpse. Then he turns to each of them and winks at them. Making the girls either heated from the sight of the student, or fainted. Some however, are disinterested as some regarded him as a show-off. Team RWBY watches, not that they cared as they just want to enjoy the tournament.

"What a show-off. Who does this guy think he is?" Blake complained. Disgusted of how much attention he's getting.

Carlos then spots Weiss and smirk at this opportunity to throw the rose directly at her. Making his supporters jealous. Weiss then catches it. Ruby then spoke up. "Well, Weiss. It looks like he has a thing for you." Weiss is also dismayed for the way he looked at her like he have know her. She drops the rose and walks away from the audience. "Hmph!" She stormed off.

Sometime after the match. Weiss is walking into the Amity Arena to find her friends after recuperating from the nightmare she hated most. That is when she accidently dropped her scroll. "Why, every time?" She sighed. To her shock, A hand reached to her scroll first. "Please, allow me." A male voice offers.

"Oh, thank you." Weiss replies as the man handed back her scroll. "I thought I..." She gasped when she looks up to get a good look at him. Carlos Vega. The heir to the Vega Corporation that invested in dusts, rivaling the Schnee Dust Company. "Y-you!" Weiss exclaimed.

"Pardon me, I believe we have yet to formally been introduce. Miss Schnee. I am Carlos Don Vega." He bowed in respect. "It's a pleasure." He takes her hand and attempts to kiss it. But she pulls it back.

"Um...Thanks." She said awkwardly. She has the need of running before things get too awful. "Well, I have to get going then. My team is probably worried about me." She takes her right foot to get away, but Carlos stopped her in front.

"Please stay a bit longer, mi belleza de nieve. I just wanted to speak to you."

"What is it that you want? So that you can just leave me alone." Weiss demands. That is when he pulls out a rose and holds it in front of her eyes. "The moment I saw you, I knew there is a favor I would like to ask of you."

"And what is that?" Weiss is startled when he pushed her to the walls. "What the-?! What do you think you're doing?!" Weiss yells. And saw the smirk on his face. It didn't look good to her.

"The moment I saw you, I knew we are meant to be one."

"Being one? Oh please, that was plain corny coming from you." She snarked. "And heck, I don't even know you!" She tries to push him away, but to no avail.

"What I meant to say is, I am going to make you my bride." He said. She is appalled for what he said to her. Normally she would turn down every suitor her father picked for her. "Get it in your head, Vega. Your attitude towards women is unacceptable and appalling." She refused. "And I refused to give myself up for a spoiled snob like you."

"Hey Weiss, is everything okay here?" Asked a blonde teenager with gauntlets. Yang Xiao Long. She could see what was going on. "It's fine, Yang. Just some loser who is very delusional." Weiss responded with her arms crossed. Yang then grabbed the back of his neck collar and led him away.

"Alright pal, you had enough fun for one day." Yang then drag him away. Much to her relief.

Weiss cracked her eyes open from that memory. She was about to get up from where she was lying. At the same time she felt weak from all the poison. Falling back down in some bed. She looked at her lower body to see that she is no longer wearing her huntress gear. But rather a white dress with frills at the bottom. And a silver hairpin in her hair. When she looked around, she was sitting on a bed. She is in a room, where there's a dresser. A window where she can see the ocean. She could tell she's on a yacht. "You have awaken, mi belleza de nieve." Weiss gasped to see the man she has always hated.

"Stop calling me by that creepy nickname, my name is Weiss." Weiss scorned. But he ignored that comment. "And, why am I in this dress?! It's awful!" Disgusted being changed into a dress, which reminds her of the rules she have to endure in the house.

"But you are very lovely by that furious look on the face. I hope you can forgive me after our meeting with your father." Carlos tries to kiss her hand again. But Weiss lashes out at him. Showing no interest to submit. "Could you get any more stubborn? You should appreciate that I am giving you the luxury that you deserved."

"I have no interest in living the life of luxury. Neither is the money. Whatever scheme you have here, Vega. It's never going to work. So good day." Weiss began to summon her glyph. But it was no use when it her aura flickered. And her Myrtenaster was already confiscated while she was unconscious. Darn it, he took my weapon.

"Oh, I forgot to mention, your aura somehow saved you from the poison. So you got lucky. However, at the cost of your use of semblance. As long as it is in your body, it was no use." Explained Carlos. "This way, you will honor me by paying the debt." Weiss blinked, she didn't remember anything about a debt. She knew her father has shady businesses, but never in her life she knows about a debt. But it's all connected to her father. "What debt? I don't recall agreeing to this."

"You'll see when your father gets here himself. Oh, there he is." He glanced at the doorway to see Jacques Gele. Formerly known as Jacques Schnee after being married into her mother's family. The results of her family turmoil. She no longer fearing his presence. All she ever has towards him is hate. "Weiss, how a pleasure to see you again."

"How did you get out? You're supposed to be in prison." She snarled. Having the smug on his face. The reason she put her father arrested was because years back, she found out he was running as a candidate for chairman in the council of Atlas. The only crime he committed was conspiracy with murder, by making a deal with a mad scientist, named Dr. Arthur Watts to help him win the election by having an assassin to murder supporters of his rivals to rig the votes. After winning the election, Jacques however, was busted due to having blind spots of hidden cameras.

"Is that any way to address your father?" He retorted.

"You are not my father, you're just a coward who uses his own flesh and blood as pawns." Weiss points his finger at him. Showing him no mercy for all he has done. "It's no wonder Winter left you." She huffed. But her father has other plans, he still somewhat find her useful even if he took away her inheritance. "I know you're still angry with me, but I have other plans to make your life better."

"Is this about the debt you are ordered to pay? If so, I want no part of it."

"Actually, you are part of it. You want to know the reason I was able to convince your grandfather to let me take over the company?" Weiss never want to hear about it, but she grabs the only thing they haven't taken yet. An earring her sister had gave her that also serves as a recording device, should anything happens. As her father continues to speak. He walked towards the window. While speaking to her. Having to be tired doing nothing after sitting in a cell. "You see, I have an old friend who hired me in the place in the Vega Corporation. Montero Vega. That would be Carlos' father. Do you remember him?"

"Yes, just this one time in one of our after parties." Weiss replies.

"You see, he and I go way back. When I was a lad, I have no use of living, until he offered me a place in his company. All was successful, he and I have a lot in common with. It was thanks to him that I have become the high-paid man in all of Atlas. With all the money he paid me, it was enough to convince your grandfather to let me marry your mother as a requirement to take over his company. The poor fool was so weak, he was too desperate to find someway to manage a company. He doesn't know how his daughter will survive. And that's how it all came to this." Jacques explained his story.

"That company never belonged to you to begin with. Mother was still studying back then before she can inherit the business. Grandfather only let you marry her because he was worried for her. Even if he regretted that day to put her in serious misery. At least that's what he told Winter, she was the only person to have confide in him because she never trusted you." Weiss hissed.

"Later on, Montero and I have met again, only to remind me about the debt since I already borrowed his money. Of course, I invited him to your 7th after party of the concert you sang that night. Before I have the chance to speak to him, I noticed his son Carlos taking in interest in you. But you didn't noticed. No matter if you turn him away. He's not taking no for an answer. Then it hit me an idea, why paying up the debt with money, if I can arrange you a marriage? When I told Montero about this idea, he told me that he can accept this as a payment if I can set you and Carlos to make a business joint between both of our companies. And at least he accepted. Sadly, he died in illness. Leaving the debt in his son's will."

"So you sold me out, didn't you?!" She growled. Over the past years, she never thought that her father would put her in a debt. That crosses the line when he would go this far. But far worse when he escaped. Winter would never consent this arrangement, and neither will her mother. But unwilling to voice out because of the fear he would do something to her daughters and son. "As part of the deal, after Carlos is very kind enough to let me escape from prison. And to take back the company. It's ashamed that your sister never knew of his status as she was too busy teaching her students as headmistress to the academy."

"Winter would never let something like this to happen." She snapped. But Carlos took a step closer to her. Weiss stumbled back to the dresser. He lifts her chin. "I'm afraid you don't have a choice. You see, I have already found the individual responsible for the embargo sinking. Whose surname is Vasilias." Weiss gets shaken, she refused to believe this as a weapon for the ransom. "You see, I ran into him when he came out looking for you. That fool didn't know what hit him. But somehow he figured I was right behind him, and surprisingly, he surrenders." She inquired to herself, silently for why would he turn himself in.

"Don't believe me? I'll show it to you." She pulls out his scroll that features security cameras. There he clicked on a window where it was all black and white. But there a person has arms tied between the walls. And he was bleeding badly from all the beating he has taken. There was a muscular man punching him in the stomach. When he move away from him. Weiss is terrified that the man getting lashed out was Neptune. "No, Neptune!" She whimpered. Covering her mouth. Then Carlos leans over her shoulder and whispers to her. "I'm afraid you have no choice but to accept me into your arms. If you do, then I'll spare his life by turning him to your sister. And if you refuse, then I'll have no choice but to drown him into the bottom of the seas." He then walks out the door with her father giving her a smirk. "You have one hour to decide." Carlos waves before exiting. "Feel free to roam around the boat. Just so you know, I have my security team around in case you tried to escape."

What am I going to do? I cannot let him die, Vega will kill him. Weiss then slid against the dresser in distress. Tired of all the threats that's been going on. First She and Neptune are being hunted. And now he's been held hostage as ransom for her to agree to an unwanted marriage. Back as an heiress, she can be a bit of a complaint. But this time, she has to be considerate of others. She will never forgive herself if those she cared about have died because of her. Risking herself is the only option she has to set Neptune free. For him to run and hide without her.

Neptune is in another ship. Restrained by corners of left and right by ropes tied to his wrists. His Tri-hard have also been confiscated. His head is lower from all the infliction he received by all the beating. For that, there are bruises from the upper body, to the lowest. Never in his life he had endure, aside form fighting the Grimm.

What were they planning to do to Weiss? Why do I get the feeling that this is the wrong ship? He thought. He then thought back to the time he saw the figure in the hood and mask. Something in his eyes didn't feel right to him. When he was at sword point by the enemy. Something about that guy felt familiar to me. But where is this coming from? But he has some connection to the Red Eye. Don't worry, Weiss, I'll get you out of this. He thought.

Then the ship shaken with the sound of a boom, there was an explosion imploded from somewhere near the empty room. Through the doorway, all the guards are running the same direction to the exit. The alarms blared in red. "Um, hello?!" He called, but they ignored him. The he saw water leaking from the hall. "Uh oh..." He eye-widened in fear. "Oh no...water...Anything but that!" He moves in sideways to break free from the ropes. But they were too tight, his hands started to leak blood from the rasp of the ropes. "Hey! Anyone here?! A5 least help me out with these!" But the pain stings him so much, he passed out. "Gotta get out...of here...got...to..."

Jacques and Carlos are standing behind the rails of the yacht staring at the ship where Neptune is being held. Jacques is tapping his foot. Looking at his watch for the remaining time limit for Weiss to decide to give herself up or face the consequences. Carlos still hold the trigger to wait for the decision. However, despite the choices he have given her, he is still tempted to press the button to watch the explosion. Then it was too late. Weiss have exit the door to confirm her decision.

"Alright, Vega! You win. I'll do it if you just let him-!" Weiss was interrupted by the explosion as Carlos have already triggered the bomb. To her horror, the ship was burning in flames. There are guards on lifeboats. And Neptune was an exception. "Neptune!" She screamed. Grasping through the rails in bitterness. Tears are running, but instead she has them in full hatred.

"You monsters! You'll pay for this!" Weiss lets her fury out by creating a projection of the ursa. But it failed as her aura shattered.

"Did you already forget that the poison stops your semblance from activating?" Weiss still glared at him while thinking of a way to escape. "It's no use to save him now, it looks like you're about to be mine after all." Said Carlos when he was about to step towards her. Weiss was about to make a run for it. Climbing onto the rails to jump off the ship. Regardless of the height, to save the man she have grown to care for. "What are you doing? This is suicide, and you know it." Said Jacques. Hoping to bring her into his side. But Weiss turned in defiance, and told him, "I would rather drown than to let Neptune die." And with that, she jumps off. The explosion just went on early, which gives her enough time to dive into the sea and swim to the ship. Carlos then turned to three of his guards.

"You idiots, stop her!" They went after her to prevent her from escaping. But they came to late as they were far from the spot and Weiss successfully leaps off.

Weiss then climbs into the ship using the remaining lifeboat still attached to the lever. She made it to the top of the boat, which can lead to the room where Neptune is. First, she had glanced at the weapons. Her Myrtenaster, and Neptune's Tri-hard in a laboratory. She picks them up as needed for their next fight. In a desperate speed, she comes across every room. The dining room, the lounge, nothing came in. The lower she went, the higher the water rises. The last stop, is the boiler room. There she peaked through the window. Luckily, Neptune is nearby.

Walking on water while opening the door. Dealing with the velocity of the substance. "Neptune..." Weiss spoken while rushing towards him. Moving her arms and legs through the water while it has yet to have risen. Neptune then wakes up hearing her voice. He lifts his head. He thought it was his imagination. "W-Weiss...Is that...you?" He stammered, while still enduring the bruises. Instead of focusing in the water, he focused on Weiss as she embraced him in relief. She then breaks from him and saw the scars he has. "Oh my god. What have they done to you?"

"Forget about me, and get out of here. I can't swim and you know it." Neptune refuses. But Weiss determines to escape with him. Knowing she cannot let him live in fear forever. "Stop talking like that. I am going to get you out." Said Weiss. She then unties him, while catching him before he could fall. He fully regained consciousness. "Just followed my lead, okay? I'll bet this'll be the time for me to teach you to swim." The water then rises further near the ceiling. Flowing along with Weiss and Neptune as they held onto a pipe. They know they couldn't last long if they stay there. "When I give the word, keep kicking. And don't let go of my hand." Weiss instructed. Neptune then gets a grip that he didn't have any other choice but to follow along. And puts his goggles above his eyes. "Do you trust me?" Weiss asked. And he nods.

"I do."

"Okay, take a deep breathe." Weiss told him, and they held their breathes for as long as they can. His ears then got clogged by the water. But it didn't matter to him as long as he could see with the goggles. Weiss held his hand to lead him to safety. As instructed, Neptune kicks up and down to keep moving. This is the first time he felt calm about being in the water. When they reached the higher floors again, they resurfaced from the water. They breathed after reaching the stair. They coughed when some of the water got into their mouth. But more importantly, they survived. "Are you okay?" Weiss asked.

"Yeah...Definitely." He replies.

"Good, let's get out of here." They climbed onto the stairs and reached the balcony of the ship. They reached the the last lifeboat and float away. Weiss then looks at Neptune with a stern expression. "What were you thinking?! I told you to stay behind and you nearly got killed! Do you have any idea how scared I got?!" Weiss then teared up looking at the bruised state he has. "This is all my fault, isn't it? I already dragged you into this, didn't I..." She rubbed her eyes. Feeling guilt that someone could be targeted, all because she is pinned into bounty. "I think it's best if I...stay away from you...while you get as far away as possible..." Neptune ignores her arguments, and instead pulls the back of Weiss' head close to his and kisses her. Weiss tried to pull away, but she gave in. They closed their eyes and break away to look at each other.

"Do you think I am the type to leave you behind?" He asked, but Weiss didn't answered. "That was very brave of you back there. I never thought you can take that risk. I learned today that I will no longer live in fear. I would give anything to save those I cared about. Especially you." Weiss then placed her hand on the back of his hair. "I'm just happy that you're alive. I'll never let anything happened to you either." Then a gun was pointed to Neptune's head. Which they jumped by the sudden movement. "Such a sweet moment. Too bad it's never going to last long." They looked up to see Jacques and Carlos in speedboats with a bunch of bodyguards ready to fire.

"Come along, Weiss. We have a debt to pay." Jacques said before turning to the blue-haired huntsmen. "Either it's that, or the blue-haired boy, gets it." Neptune bites back by pointing his rifle to him. "Try me, old man!" Weiss interrupts by lowering his gun to prevent Neptune from getting injured any further, as he was already punished enough as it is. "No, don't do it." Weiss pleaded quietly. Before he could protest, Weiss explained to him. "Father has made it clear that he's not going to stop until the debt is paid. I can't let him get his way to kill you." His eye widened to hear that the man standing before him was her father. Weiss secretly gives Neptune her rapier before they get caught.

"Wait a minute, you're her father?" Neptune asked. "You're supposed to be in prison."

"Isn't it obvious. The reason I have to sent my future son-in-law to capture you, because I knew my daughter would refuse to give in for a debt." Jacques explains while brushing his mustache. Neptune turned to the so-called suitor of hers. And recognized the uniform he is wearing. "Wait a minute, you're from the Atlas Military. How did you not get caught." The heir of the Vega Corporation has chuckled brushing his hair. He's not taking the situations very seriously in the name of the will his father. Neptune didn't like the fact that parents would use their sons and daughters as debts. "I don't want you around her anymore. If you dare to interfere, I won't let you off easily." Before Neptune can fight back. Weiss gets up and responded to them. "No one's dying today. Because I'll come with you." She insisted. Neptune then grabs her wrist to stop her from taking risk. "Weiss, don't do this. Are you crazy?" Neptune protests. But she pulls away and spun to him. "I have to, I cannot let anyone I cared about getting killed. It's my job as a huntress to put others first. You need to focus on finding your brother and bring him home."

"Hop on, mi belleza de nieve." He reached out his hand, and Weiss reluctantly has hers over his and got into his boat.. Neptune watches Weiss being sped away. Weiss then stared at Neptune, knowing that she might not see him anymore if nothing is done. Neptune won't forget his promise to continue searching for his brother. But he cannot let Weiss submit to her enemies either. "Weiss, I promise you. I will get you out of this!" He promised.

[nikkigrand]

There’s no easy way to say this, but I’m abandoning all of my works. Everything.

This post is going to be long, honest, triggering and deeply personal. So for those who don’t want to read through all of my bullshit, the gist is that I’m not emotionally or mentally capable of writing anymore.

TW ARE IN PLACE.

If you’ve followed me for a while, then you know that my boyfriend was killed in Afghanistan last year. Since then, my life has been a breathless decline into self destruction. I didn’t know—I still don’t know—how to recover from happily waiting for his return to painfully knowing he never will. I swear that some days I feel like he’s still out there and some day he’ll come home and this will all be just a bad dream. I want to wake up to a reality where he steps off that plane and into my arms, where I don’t keep a crumpled old t shirt that smells more of me than him under my pillow, where the shock of hearing certain songs doesn’t make me throw up. A reality where I don’t have to sit in front of his ashes every time I visit his mother and look at his singed necklace around her neck.

I wanted nothing more than to wake up. Just wake the fuck up and feel alive again because for so long I had felt this choking pain and grief and misery and then nothing.

Everything became an escape, something to fill that void in me. I tried all the healthy things. I ate, I worked out, I ran. I talked to people about how I felt and reached out, but nothing helped. I volunteered, i planted trees and flowers, I channeled my grief into kindness. I tried to take all this pain and turn it into something beautiful, and still I felt nothing. I was falling falling falling into this black pit and was reaching for anything to keep me from hitting the bottom.

So I started chasing highs. The standard shit at first. I drank so much alcohol that I’d wake up in bushes with my friends, limbs tangled in ways that left me sore and stinging for days because who the hell passes out in a Rose bush?

At first, drinking was fucking hell, because no matter how much I drank I’d always end up with my head cradled in the palms of my hands, fingers digging into my scalp as I screamed and wailed and asked why why why why when he was so close to coming home and why was life so goddamn mean??? I’d be in bar bathrooms, just curled in the corner and sobbing like a dramatic princess until my friends carried me out. This happened about a dozen times before it just stopped, because I figured I wasn’t drinking enough if I could remember everything.

So I drank more and more and more and then I realized that it wasn’t making me feel better, it wasn’t doing anything for me.

So I started smoking. Just weed, you know. Nothing too crazy at the time. But all that did was make me hyper-fixate on all of my failures and short comings. It made me hate myself so viscerally, so deeply that I wondered if this is who I truly am at my core. A mean bitch who drinks, smokes, parties. A maneater who fucks these poor kind hearted men to fill that hole her dead man left inside her and still finds herself cold and numb after because it’s not enough. It’s never enough.

I’m sure you know where this is going. But I hated myself. I’m a beautiful girl, I’m not blind, and yet I found myself to be so fucking ugly. So fucking ugly and grey and all I wanted—all I needed—was something to breathe life into me the way life itself did before.

I just wanted to feel happy and normal. Only for a little while. That need was so encompassing it would grip my insides and I’d cry from how much I wanted it, how much I had convinced myself I needed it. It was all I fucking wanted.

So the bumps came. And then the lines. And then whole baggies to myself. And it felt amazing, it was wonderful. The world was alive, things were different. I had more energy, more life in me than I had in months. Then the other type of lines came and it made me feel like I was floating away. There was no pain, no misery, no death hanging over my shoulder to remind me that the strength of your love can’t make people stay.

But soon, that too wasn’t enough. Like every other thing, I felt there was something better, something that could make me feel more. So here is where I tell you about all the pills I popped, all the different colored presses and how each one pulled me out of that hole I was falling into and deposited me above the ground —much higher than I could have ever dreamed of—and filled my grey world with beautiful gorgeous colors.

Then I can tell you about all the tabs I let dissolve on my tongue, or fully swallowed out of impatience, all of the lines of ketamine I combined with ecstasy and acid in one night. The things I saw, the way I felt—it took me far from this dismal life and was addicting. I was chasing something every weekend until it became every other day, chasing some feeling I still can’t name, and I knew that it was ruining me.

My grief and my drugs were killing me, and I knew it. With every cotton mouth, every clenched jaw, every pounding headache, I fucking knew and didn’t care. I’d look at my friends faces and I knew, I knew they loved me and would be devastated if they knew what I was doing, and I still didn’t care. What was life if it felt this empty?

My grades dropped, i turned down a contracting job I wanted for years, I spent all my money on psychedelics and stimulants, and it had gotten to a point where I’d pop a pill while sitting at home just because I didn’t want to be sober and didn’t want to think about how fucked up my life was becoming.

Then one day I was at a concert, high in the clouds with a joint settled comfortably between my lips and frizzy hair piled messily atop my head, when I saw a girl get carried out the venue by medics. She was probably a few years younger than I am, and i remember looking at her face impassively as they pushed through the crowd with her body thrown over this bear of a man’s shoulder as if in slow motion. She was pale and foaming at the mouth, with her arms dangling limply down his back, and she looked dead—she was dead. I knew in that same way you know that the sky is blue when the sun is up, I just knew.

And in that moment—those few seconds it took me to acknowledge that she had most likely overdosed and died—this intense yearning shot through me, so strong that I felt it in the crooks of my fucking elbows, like I wanted to embrace whatever the fuck it was that I desired to live inside me, and this voice cried out, “I wish that were me.”

And you know what, I didn’t even know I had spoken until the guy next to me shoved me in the shoulder and said, “no you don’t.”

And that terrified me. I remember dropping the joint, fumbling it in my shaking fingers, burning myself on the lit end, before handing it off to that same random guy and running off to get some air.

I’m not stupid and I’m not blind. I know I’m depressed, I know I’ve got issues, but I had never said something so suicidal out loud up until that point. I’ve never vocally wished for death and even as I sat there, as I looked out at the people outside the venue huddled together doing whip it’s and killing brain cells, I still wanted to be that poor dead girl on that man’s shoulders.

That was it for me. I remember calling an Uber home on the spot and taking everything I had and flushing it. Im not going to sit here and lie to you and tell you that it was easy. I had convinced myself that I needed these things to make me happy, and i don’t know if I can ever see life the same way after them. The feelings you get off these things are otherworldly, it’s so damn good, but they come at a price. You dont feel the same way you did before you took them, and you never will. You’ll never be who you were before that high, but you can almost convince yourself that it’s worth it. So it was pretty damn hard to take my neon presses, my rocks. my capsules, my bud and my tabs, and flush them down the toilet.

Almost immediately after I did it, I cried. Mostly because i had flushed hundreds of dollars down the fucking toilet, but also because I had become that girl in those cheesy college movies. You know the one, the one where the party girl gets addicted to drugs and goes on a bender and her whole life is just one big goddamn tragedy that won’t end. I hate those fucking movies and I, for the life of me, could not believe I was that girl.

I had been military, straight laced with a good head on my shoulders and a hard worker. I was smart, respected, the girl everyone wanted to bring home to mom. And now I was a hot mess crying in my bathroom because I had just flushed my addiction down the shitter.

Now I’m just home, trying to gather the pieces of myself in a way that doesn’t cause long term damage when I’ve yet to hit my 27th birthday.

I still go out with my friends. They know nothing about what I’ve done because I’ve always gone out and done things alone. This is the first time I’ve ever spilled my guts.

So where does FanFiction come into play in all this. Well, it’s simple, really, if you’ve gotten to this point and picked out all the mistakes in grammar. My brain is so fucked up that I can barely write a passable 3 page essay. I can’t remember words, much less how to string them together to form something beautiful in the way I used to. Trust me, it kills me and I’ve agonized over it for hours. I once tried to take this amazing idea I had and put it to paper but it would just not flow. Nothing made sense. Where before writing was effortless and focused, now my brain could barely concentrate on forming a sentence that didn’t sound like gibberish.

My attention span is so short that I literally have to isolate myself with no internet and my textbooks to get work done. It’s so bad that I have anxiety and panic attacks about the fact that I feel like a whole dumbass with one brain cell, where before I was proud of my intelligence and could hold decent conversation.

I’m still pretty, as if that fucking matters, but now I’ve got a stutter and can’t hold eye contact because my paranoia makes me think they’re judging me. And let me tell you, I’m so fucking pissed about that because I know it’s just my fried brain thinking these things, and there’s no one to blame but myself.

And I still feel empty and numb. How can I write about love and human emotions when I don’t feel anything? How can I write about looking at someone and loving them when the memory of love faded like my lover’s ashes in the wind? I just can’t.

I know love as it whispers against my skin with each interaction between me, friends, even other men, and yet I look at them and feel absolutely nothing.

So Yeah, I can’t write my stories if I can’t get my brain or my heart to work.

I’m really sorry to all my loyal readers. I really am. I wish I had been stronger. Thank you for all of your support throughout the years.

Don’t do drugs.

[moonlightwinterdxxix]

Awkward brotherly babysitting or pet sitting with Ichimatsu and Choromatsu for the Bits of my Brothers? (And can I say that I'm LOVING your works so far??? The Ventriloquist Vengeance is a story I never knew I needed ajsdlkasf)

Ahhh! Thank so much for the kind words! It means so much to me and I’m glad you’re enjoying it!

This is honestly the first time I’m writing a request, and I hope you like what I’ve managed to make. So without further ado, Nenchuu up the bat!! 💚💜☺️😒

~~~

When Choromatsu lifted the dirty diaper off his face, his eyes went wide. Any horror he would’ve felt beforehand was now a tidal wave of utmost defeat, and he wanted to collapse and freak out and tear each and every strand of hair off his head. But he held back from the sensation, and gulped instead, tossing the diaper to the ground.

The kitten tilted its head at him.

This was a sign, and a bad one. One worse than Osomatsu humiliating him in front of Nyaa-chan, one worse than being identified fapping when he was certain he was alone, one worse than dyeing his hair brown and having everyone see him. No, it was worse than all of that—so much worse. And if anything was worse than that, it was being dead and in heaven, but being discovered having man-woman privacy with one of the guardian angels. Lucifer wasn’t going to be alone there in hell anymore.

No. This dilemma of Choromatsu Matsuno wasn’t that he had a baby’s diaper that spoke and stunk of turd on his face—it was that there was a kitten in front of him. And where cats were involved, so was Ichimatsu.

Putting one-plus-one together, that meant Ichimatsu was home.

And the reason that Choromatsu even had a baby with him was because he was as sure as hell that he was spending his day at home, on his own.

And as if heaven already hated him and his luck couldn’t get any worse, the baby started crying.

Loudly, like a marching band that had been constructed out of chaos. It flailed its small arms so energetically that Jyushimatsu was given competition. It’s wails were higher than Choromatsu’s voice went when he was at an idol concert. The baby cried like its little life depended on it, but as Choromatsu stood there dumbfounded, he couldn’t blame it. He wanted to wail if it meant his life would be saved too.

Choromatsu flinched so hard that every hair in his body stood. He quickly scrambled towards the baby on the couch and cradled it in his arms, trying to calm it down as best as he could before the devil incarnate himself arrived in the room. But with how fruitless his efforts were, and how much louder the baby was becoming, he was only going to be met with failure. He wanted to accompany the baby in its crying, but knowing that it was Ichimatsu that was going to discover the unfortunate corner he had dragged himself towards, he fought for composure.

He continued to sway the baby with a little lullaby that was off-key. It made the baby cry even more.

Then came Ichimatsu’s footsteps. Choromatsu waited for the comment that would run him to the ground, but it never came. A minute or so passed, but it never came. So in his own curiosity and dread, he urged himself to spin his head to the direction of the door, meeting his eyes with Ichimatsu’s.

Ichimatsu merely regarded him with blank eyes, but his lips told a different emotion. And upon meeting CHoromatsu’s gaze, he quickly turned his heels to go.

Oh no, he didn’t.

“Oi! Ichimatsu!” Choromatsu yelled, and cared less if that worsened the baby’s status. To his relief though, Ichimatsu stopped from what might’ve been his beginning trek to the opposite side of their house. “You think you’re getting off free there? Get back here and take the kitten back outside! It’ll disturb the peace of our home.” Oh, as if the baby wasn’t. It was a completely stupid thing to say, especially from someone like him. It was humiliating in a lot of senses, but he had no other option but to accept it.

Dang, Choromatsu just found himself more and more pathetic as the day dragged on.

Ichimatsu’s face reverted to its normal, lackadaisical state. “Are you really the person who has the authority to say that?” he curtly asked.

Cheeks burning, Choromatsu growled, accepting Ichimatsu’s dominance in the situation. “Fine. Do I owe you an explanation if it means you wouldn’t tell the others?”

The baby was still crying. Ichimatsu eyed in silently and nonchalantly before re-entering the room, grabbing the kitten by its black-and-white belly and bringing it to his lap as he sat on the far, opposite side of the sofa. He began to rub his little pet behind its ears, but he was once more focused on Choromatsu in a sense that made Choromatsu curse himself, yet again.

“Go,” Ichimatsu said.

Such bluntness, and it made Choromatsu sick. Of all brothers to be stuck with, it just had to be Ichimatsu. Ichimatsu, who had proved himself as both the darkest man alive and above all, the most awkward companion Choromatsu could ask for. What kind of boundaries would they find themselves sharing this time, huh? What would the record be of how long their silence between conversation would be this time, huh? How long until the rest of the others came home, huh?

Well, he supposed having one was better than five. So for the time being, maybe Ichimatsu wouldn’t be so bad after all. He was quiet, reserved, and he reflected the awkwardness of Choromatsu at a level that was bearable. Plus, he wouldn’t tell the others about this...Would he?

Ichimatsu’s face gave no promises, but no denial either.

Perhaps this was one of those moments when Choromatsu needed to trust his gut.

As a way to begin the explanation, Choromatsu sighed. “Nyaa-chan. I was watching television, and she mentioned in an interview that she liked it when guys were nice to babies. I dunno if it was her speaking or for the sake of her image, but I believed her either way. At first I didn’t care about it, but then I heard crying outside our house. And surprise-surprise, there was a baby on the road, without parents, without anyone or anything. So thinking it was by a miracle of fate that it was from some game-show of some sort where they’re testing the reflexes of the people, I took it in. I didn’t think you’d come home so soon, so I thought I would be spared at least five ‘you’re pathetic’ teases from any of you.”

Ichimatsu snorted without smiling. “You’re pathetic.”

Yes, there it was. It was oddly satisfying as it was painful. “Thank you.” He collapsed at the opposite side of the couch from Ichimatsu, still trying to rock the baby in his arms, and still finding success far, far away from his reach. He tried to rub his index finger in a circle against its stomach, yet nothing changed, as he expected. He sighed. “Ichimatsu, can you do me a favor and get some milk?”

“Hm? For the baby or for the cat?”

“For the baby, of course!” Choromatsu snapped. “Cod, it’s common sense, Darkmatsu!”

“Ah, but this cat is also a baby,” Ichimatsu stated, moving from the ears to the underside of the kitten’s chin. The kitten leaned in to the touch, emitting a small purr that slightly decreased the anxiety in Choromatsu’s heart. Slightly. “The little one would like some milk too, since it's to make his little bones stronger,” Ichimatsu continued, solace evident in him as he petted the small creature. “They say cats have nine lives, but they might as well have one when they’re still this tiny. The world can swallow them whole.”

Letting the words sink in, Choromatsu glanced down at the cat. When he wasn’t seeing it with an image of horror that represented Ichimatsu’s presence, it really was a cute, precious thing that was fragile when set next to the cruelty of the universe. It’s eyes were a wonderful shade of green, and its body was decorated with patches of black that somehow managed to still look clean. But what Choromatsu liked about it most was the heart-shaped piece of black by its neck, so close to where its heart was, beating underneath its pillowy fur.

Translation into reality. Choromatsu was almost touched. Almost.

“Fine, here’s a deal,” Choromatsu stated, extending a fist to the direction of his brother—it wasn’t easy with the squirming mini-human still on his thighs. “Rock-paper-scissors to determine who’s getting the milk.”

“Eh? That childish game?” Ichimatsu huffed, rolling his eyes. “That’s a very idiot eldest-type suggestion, Chorofappyski.”

“It’s fair play,” Choromatsu argued, more from defensiveness than the truth in his phrase. “Just one go.”

Ichimatsu let the cat curl in his lap for a second, then rubbed its furry back so gently that it reminded Choromatsu that Ichimatsu had the ability at all to be gentle. As Ichimatsu brushed it a bit more, his cheeks rosed a little, barely there, but Choromatsu’s eyes were clear enough to notice it. It faded quickly after as Ichimatsu said, “Whatever. One go.”

Ichimatsu extended his own fist, and waved it twice before ending it with two fingers forming scissors.

Choromatsu’s hand was flat as paper.

Ichimatsu leaned back. “Get the milk.”

“Ugh, stupid luck.” Choromatsu lifted himself off the couch, laying the baby on his previous place. His heart nearly skyrocketed when the baby turned and nearly fell off the edge, but it was swift to redeem itself when it rolled over towards the backrest of the sofa. It was as if the weight of the entire world was lifted from his shoulders—his relief.

He tried not to discern the hint of a snicker at Ichimatsu’s side as he stormed out of the shared bedroom and entered the rest of their house, snagging the milk from the fridge with aggression that peaked to a million. Darn their position in the caste system, turning what could’ve been a normal man like him into a NEET...!

When he returned to the room just as grumpy and his attention on the milk, he was saying, “Hey, Ichimatsu, do you know if Mom and Dad have any spare baby bottles from when we were kids left somewhere?” He stopped at the doorway, the carton of milk stilling as he did. “Now, that’s a sight.”

Ichimatsu remained bland, but it was obvious by his lowered brows that his situation was getting to him. “Which one? The fact that the room is an absolute mess, or that your stupid baby is trying to chew off my ear?”

Actually, Choromatsu was distracted by the room, because it was his first time registering what he and his horrible babysitting has done to it. The diapers from earlier were lying discarded on the floor, the stink of it green as it smoked in an unnatural, visible hue. There were mats laid where Choromatsu had tried to change its diapers on the floor, but with no such luck when the naked toddler had stubbornly shoved him away. And everywhere else was tissues. Tissues for its baby-boy bottom, tissues for its tears, tissues for the pee stain that still coated the side of their bookshelf. It was a miracle none of the books were damaged.

Now sending his attention to Ichimatsu, Choromatsu casually said, “I think it likes you.”

“Get it off me,” Ichimatsu ordered lowly, one of his hands already looping around the baby’s naked half. His kitten sat next to him, watching the situation with innocent, naive curiosity. “I don’t want to be touching this thing if it means the cat will run away from me,” Ichimatsu added.

Choromatsu shook his head, pointing. “No, I think that’s better. It’s no longer crying.”

Now the first sign of irritation made itself present in his little brother’s face, and the instinct to kill could be easily traced on him. “Do you want me to kill you first before this baby, Chorofappyski?” he threatened. And with that specific tone of his, they were a word away from the revelation if Ichimatsu was going to carry out his promise or not.

For the sake of his safety, Choromatsu quickly trudged towards his brother, tossing the carton to the floor, and wrapped his hands around the baby’s waist, muttering at it to stop as it continued to clomp its toothless mouth around Ichimatsu’s slobbered ear. It wasn’t too difficult to extract it, but once Ichimatsu was back to his usual, careless self, the baby had reverted back into sobbing that made fatigue sprout in Choromatsu’s form. He slumped down beside Ichimatsu, shutting his eyes and tilting his head back.

But, well, he had to do something else now. He had to feed the baby with this darn milk, if that was going to work, and hopefully, it did. Options were limited at these dark times. That’s why Choromatsu stood—

—but so did Ichimatsu.

“Huh?” they spoke in unison.

Ignoring his brother, Choromatsu took a step closer to the milk on the ground, careful with the baby he had in his arms. He reached out—

—at the same time Ichimatsu did.

Choromatsu retreated—

—and Ichimatsu did too.

They were matching symmetrically, from the motions of their bodies to the youth they had in their arms.

Oh no, here we go again, Choromatsu thought in terror, and by the way Ichimatsu’s features were crumpled, he was thinking the same thing. Neither uttered a whisper as they lingered on their spots, both anticipating movement that they were completely aware was going to be mirrored by the clone in front of them. Choromatsu cringed at the same time Ichimatsu did.

It was just like before. Cod, it was just like before. The awkwardness, the tension, the horror. The only difference was that they had a baby and a kitten to witness their anathema.

“A-Ah, Ichimatsu,” Choromatsu stuttered, the smile plastered all fake and fearful, “would you like to prepare the milk for us? You could if you want—I won’t stop you.”

“No-no-no, I-I’d give the job to you if you wanted,” Ichimatsu answered, the wince in his emotions exposed in his grin. “But it’s fine. If you want me to do it, I won’t mind.”

“No, don’t trouble yourself. I’ll do it.”

It was silence. Silence, and so, so, so much awkwardness.

Cod, it really was going to be like last time. They needed an ice-breaker, now, may it be the arrival of another one of their brothers, or anything that could put an end in the painful awkwardness of their upcoming situation—

The baby vomited.

“Gah!” Choromatsu yelped, staggering backwards and raising the baby away from his body as it continued to release its bile, brown murk that landed as goops on both their floor and Choromatsu’s socks. Choromatsu extended it further, clearing it from killing him more, but not enough for Choromatsu to be safe from the scent of acid that lifted to his nostrils. He turned as green as his track jacket, wanting to puke himself at the horrible-as-crap permutations of food that made up the baby’s bile.

“Hang on!” Ichimatsu called out, running off towards where Choromatsu didn’t bother guessing. He continued to stand there with his arms stretched, one of his sleeves coated in a gross shade matching the current color of the floor. The baby kept going, and Choromatsu wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not to let it keep going, or if it was a better idea to give it water or its milk to get it to stop.

This. This is why he didn’t care a dang about babies.

“Oh, Cod, that smells so horrible!” Choromatsu gritted out, proceeding to yell, “Ichimatsu! Get some tissues and water or something! Forget about the milk for a bit and help me out here!”

“I got it!” Ichimatsu yelled back, returning a moment later with a bottle of water as he ran towards Choromatsu and the wheezing child. Ichimatsu put a hand underneath the child’s chin, tapping the cleanest spot there with a finger, saying, “Oi, kid! Open your mouth and gargle this dang water, huh?!” His tapping went harder, and the baby found itself irritated by Ichimatsu’s ruthlessness when it began making sounds that symbolized the start of another set of waterworks.

“You idiot!” Choromatsu screamed, yanking the baby away from Ichimatsu. “That’s not how you do it!”

“Are you doing any better?!” he retorted, waving the bottle as its insides smacked against the walls of its container. “You’re covered in its puke! Let me do my thing so that I can help get that abomination of a child away from a fappy loser like you!” He made a grab, but Choromatsu used one of his legs to kick him back. This just made Ichimatsu try to jerk and jostle, shaking the three of them in a hazardous earthquake.

“Are you trying to kill it?!” Choromatsu demanded.

“Not necessarily!” Ichimatsu replied, struggling against Choromatsu’s efforts to keep him off the little boy. He didn’t seem to give any care if he was getting too close to the vomit on Choromatsu’s sleeve. “But admit it! You’d rather have it dead than slobber on you the way it did! Cod, it was biting my ear!”

“Yeah, I would! But that isn’t what we need right now!” Choromatsu scoffed, still using his body as a shield, but not having its effectivity determine positivity for the child as it began whining once again. “Ichimatsu, cut it out! You’re making it worse!”

“So stop being stubborn! Give me the brat!” Ichimatsu yelled, slowing down far from a choice for him.

“No! Are you stupid?!”

“Not as stupid as you!”

“You’re so annoying!”

“You are too! So give me the whiny thing!”

Fed up and unable to take any more of the nonsense, Choromatsu nudged Ichimatsu with all the strength he could muster.

Ichimatsu reeled back, but a high-pitched screech interrupted their banter, and Ichimatsu was spun around so fast that Choromatsu had to remind himself that they were face-to-face just a millisecond ago.

In front of him, Ichimatsu’s anger diminished as a candle would on a windy day. Instead, he was suddenly sympathetic and entirely apologetic, a rare emotion that was emitted from the fourth-born Matsuno son on days that were as abnormally-normal such as this one. “Oh crap, I stepped on its tail!” Ichimatsu cried, kneeling down towards the small kitten so tiny and defenseless on the floor. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean—!” But he didn’t get to finish as the kitten hissed at him and scrambled towards their open door.

When Ichimatsu faced Choromatsu again, he was absolutely fuming. “That was all your fault, Choromatsu!”

“Because you kept trying to throttle me and the baby!” Choromatsu snapped, and a second later he realized his mistake too late.

Flames danced in Ichimatsu’s gaze, and without another word he had his fingers spread out like claws, and he was pouncing onto Choromatsu with the feral battle roar of a lion. Choromatsu barely had time to breathe another breath before he was tackled to the floor, nearly dropping the baby and wailing out as punches made imprints on his face and body, Ichimatsu’s screaming a blur of words with the agony that blossomed in his skull.

The shock came first before the retaliation, and Choromatsu went just as mad as he stretched out his arms and grabbed Ichimatsu by his neckline and smacked him off. Both were yelling, and soon both boys were engulfed in a battle cloud as they threw punches and kicks against one another, neither of their sentences registering to the other over their own chaos. Bruises marked their skin, saliva spat out, and bodies were doubling over from the unexpected-expected mercilessness of his brother.

This though was so much better than being stuck in awkwardness, Choromatsu decided, and was so much better than having to care for some stupid, left-on-the-street toddler. The kitten though was far from Choromatsu’s priorities. And with that mindset still stable in his conscience, he and Ichimatsu resumed their brotherly battle of the middle sons.

“Uwa!” the baby suddenly exclaimed, and startled, Choromatsu and Ichimatsu froze as they turned towards it. Choromatsu’s knee was an atom away from Ichimatsu’s gut, and Ichimatsu’s grip was white-knuckle tight in Choromatsu’s hair. Their irritation morphed into confusion when the baby pointed towards its filthy mouth indicatively. Choromatsu, for dealing constantly with Todomatsu’s babyish behavior in high school, was familiar with that gesture—it was hungry.

Choromatsu was first to return to his senses as he finished off his kick on Ichimatsu before heading towards the baby, scooping it from the floor and stretching it out in front of him again. It still drooled colored spit. “Ugh, you little...” He groaned, tucking the baby to his shoulder and coming towards the couch, stopping by the fallen bottle of milk before settling down. He spared no heed towards his brother as he popped the bottle open, too tired to bother searching for a real baby bottle with the way things were going down for him.

Ichimatsu just stood there, arms crossed.

“What?” It was more of a statement than it was a question. “Follow your cat. I’ll handle myself here.”

Ichimatsu made a sound between his teeth. “Are you that stupid? It’s freaking pissed at me.”

“Then redeem yourself with this baby,” Choromatsu said, using the back of his sleeve to rub the mouth of the small boy. He continued to try aligning the mouth of the bottle to the baby’s, relieved flooding him when he matched his target. The throat of the baby bobbed as it swallowed down the milk, shutting its wet eyes and relaxing its tense body. There was no use for Ichimatsu in this situation anymore.

“Or not, since I’m doing well. Acting as your true niisan really does to the job sometimes.” He stopped, letting the baby gulp some more, before letting the baby suck again. The milk was draining fast. “Ichimatsu, you’re just standing there. It’s making me uncomfortable.”

“Well sorry if I’m doing that. You’re making me uncomfortable as well,” Ichimatsu snapped, tone clipped.

“Why? Because I pushed you enough to scare your cat away?”

And that was when he made his second mistake, but unlike earlier, this time he felt bad about it. He watched as Ichimatsu’s nose wrinkled in misery, and he was stomping out of the room before Choromatsu could even apologize. The door slid shut with a mighty clang, and Choromatsu felt the baby flinch in his arms as the last of the milk flicked into nothingness. The baby burped, slumping against Choromatsu’s chest, and shutting its eyes, it yawned.

About a second later it was sleeping, and the sky outside had tinted from blue to gray.

Choromatsu found himself slipping in and out of consciousness as the first drops of a downpour started to approach their hometown. The downpour turned into a pattering that struck against their rooftop, and soon it resorted into a steady rhythm of drumming, the light outside of their window contradicting the time of two-thirty in the afternoon. The cool air that managed to enter the room intertwined itself with Choromatsu’s system, tickling him and allowing drowsiness to climb up him.

He might’ve said that he had successfully fallen asleep when thunder shook him into cautiousness, alerting both himself and the baby that had its scream reverting into wailing. Choromatsu whined and let his back collide against the backrest of the sofa. Was this small creature that hydrated to be able to cry all day? Apparently so, and Choromatsu was too tired to deal with it. But he supposed he had to, since he had given the responsibility to himself.

He prepared to stand—

“Stop. Stay there,” Ichimatsu suddenly ordered, tone low and devoid of all the rage it had carried a few minutes ago. Ichimatsu knelt down on the floor with his brown eyes on the floor, a small redness seeping into his cheeks as he pressed something against the baby’s side. “Here. Take this. Maybe the baby will stop if it hugs this.”

It was a stuffed cat. Specifically, it was a stuffed cat that he had owned for only a few months when Jyushimatsu had won it at the latest spring fair. It was a black cat from a movie Choromatsu had forgotten about over how occupied he was with his latest novel series, but he remembered how often Ichimatsu would hide the toy when any of their brothers was around.

Now it was sitting right in front of him, pressed against the sides of both the baby’s body and Ichimatsu’s palm. Ichimatsu was expectantly silent.

“Ah, thank you, Ichimatsu,” Choromatsu said, taking the plush and inserting it between the nimble fingers of the baby. “Here, hug this. It’ll make you feel so much better.”

Understanding him or not, the baby wrapped itself around the plush, resting its chin on the toy’s neck and finding itself comfortable there. It nestled itself once more against Choromatsu’s chest, gaining its lost slumber as it breathed lightly. Its body rose and fell so steadily in its own harmony, creating dissonance with the pelting of the rain.

“That was nice of you, Ichimatsu,” Choromatsu said quietly as Ichimatsu set himself next to him. “How did you know it would help?”

“I didn’t,” Ichimatsu bluntly stated, bringing his knees to his chest and resting his chin on them. “It was a hunch. Normally a lot of people feel better when they have someo—I mean, something to hug.” Ichimatsu’s face went redder.

“I suppose that’s true,” Choromatsu mused, pretending he didn’t see it. “But that was a nice sacrifice from you, Ichimatsu. I know you really like that cat, but to give it to the baby after it had finished puking and downing milk...” He shuddered, imagining his reaction if one of his personal stuff got into a similar position.

Ichimatsu smirked. “It’s no big deal. I’ll have Shittymatsu wash it when he gets home, or you so the secret stays about our inconvenience.”

Choromatsu scoffed playfully. “I would, but I don’t think so. I’m not touching baby drool.”

“It’s all over your sleeves.”

“Good point.”

They let the rain and the baby’s light snoring be their sound for a while.

“We should get that child to the police station when the rain lightens up,” Ichimatsu said, putting an end to the voiceless session. “Get it to its parents, if it has any. Eh, the police would do it, as long as it isn’t Officer Yatsugashira anymore.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I agree with you. And before the rest of our brothers get home.” Choromatsu went rigid, his guilt coming back as he said, “Ichimatsu, I’m sorry about what I said earlier, and for pushing you so hard. It was my fault you stepped on the cat. It should’ve been mad at me instead of you.” He let his shame overpower him as he waited for Ichimatsu to answer, to break the chain that had buckled itself in Choromatsu’s stomach.

“I’m sorry too,” Ichimatsu finally said, honesty in his voice. “I was being insensitive about the kid earlier. I suppose that having an ill feeling in his stomach isn’t his fault for vomiting. You were right. I should’ve held back on him.”

Choromatsu smiled at him with his angular smile. “I guess we both get into our own kind of trouble when we’re home alone, aren’t we?”

Ichimatsu dipped his chin with a matching smile of agreement. “Mhm.”

The sky continued to rumble, to weep uncontrollably. To close it out, Choromatsu said, “Did you find your cat after you went out? Is it still mad at you?” He sounded melancholic to his own ears.

“Yup. At the toilet. Managed to get in and shut the door on its own, magnificently. It didn’t let me get close to it at all, so I left it there.” He said it with a bluntness that made his mood indecipherable. Choromatsu deciphered it enough.

“We should get it out of there when we can, and take it back out before Mom or Dad gets back. Do you think it’s as lost as this baby is? Do you think it has a family waiting for it?”

Ichimatsu’s eyes went downcast. “It has to. I wouldn’t want to imagine something like it to be orphaned. But I won’t be surprised. Most of the cats I find in the alleyway are loners anyway, no matter how old. Animal parents just tend to be more neglectful of their offspring than human parents are. Well, some human parents.”

“Yeah. That’s too bad.”

Choromatsu suddenly understood then why babies were so important. Babies signified the creation of a new life, a new mind, a new purposeful thing to enter the world. Some lived to find galaxies in their eyes, to have papers with their names, to have friends and families that made more life that served as hope for thousands of upcoming generations in their cyclical world entitled as life. They grew to become scientists, seeing reality’s codes through intelligence. They grew to become writers, penning lessons that built up the human being into an impenetrable force. They grew to learn love and to give love, when romance, family, and friendship is introduced when they are feeling alone.

Babies became part of the future, and built it.

But not all babies lived long enough to be that. Some parents refused the responsibility of having a child, and killed them off mercilessly with the power of abortion. Some babies entered the world lifeless, miscarriage being the curse that invited them into the breathing world that way they were. Others were unfortunate enough to be caught in nature’s mishaps, fires, storms, and many more calamities taking away their lives before they could be lived. And because of that, there were so many chances of the world’s redemption that bit the dust, letting it flow in its brutal pace.

That’s what made babies special, and why their lives were important. As much as a human he was, so were they, and they held the probabilities to do the impossibilities many people in the present might not be able to accomplish.

And the baby in his arms was part of that crowd.

“Choromatsu-niisan,” Ichimatsu said, bringing him out of his reverie as he got up, “the rain’s lightening up. We should get going before the idiot eldest returns announcing his next Pachinko loss.”

“Right. We should.”

Choromatsu carefully lifted himself from the sofa, careful not to stir the baby from its sleep before accompanying Ichimatsu outside the bedroom. They took a turn towards the bathroom, Ichimatsu flicking the lights on, and Choromatsu saw the cat. It really was a delicate thing, so tiny against the corner of the room. It’s shadow on the wall alone made it look like a monster was looking after it, ready to bite with a single movement. It made Choromatsu’s heart hurt.

“Hey,” Ichimatsu cooed kindly, approaching the kitten with so much compassion that it was barely the Ichimatsu he knew anymore. “We’re going to take you home, okay? We’re going to take you back to your family. Won’t that be great?” Ichimatsu’s hurt from the kitten’s rejection was audible, and Ichimatsu’s forgiveness didn’t do the trick to calm Choromatsu’s shame.

The kitten lifted its vibrant gaze towards them, pulling back.

“Oh Cod...” Ichimatsu whimpered helplessly.

Choromatsu bowed solemnly.

“Uwa?” The baby, awake, shimmied in Choromatsu’s arms. It shook until Choromatsu had to bring it down to the floor, where it crawled towards the direction of the kitten after leaving Ichimatsu’s doll on the ground. Neither Choromatsu nor Ichimatsu made a move to stop it when the baby started petting the kitten’s back with the same kindness and love that Ichimatsu gave it. It was a touching sight as the kitten leaned into the baby’s hands, purring and meowing in a splinter of a pitch.

It was a cute sight that brought the two speechless for a while. Speechless because it was heartwarming, it was adorable, it was unexpected, and it was innocent. The baby laughed as the kitten purred.

“I don’t know what to say,” Choromatsu said, awed. “Only that today I have seen too many things I never thought I would see.”

“Mhm,” Ichimatsu hummed, voicing his agreement.

“Should we wait a little before going, let them play with each other for a little longer?”

Ichimatsu’s answer to that came in variations, and he was stuck without a proper answer. “Won’t we be awkward together?” he asked instead.

Choromatsu smiled at him, placing a hand on his shoulder reassuringly in a solid reply. And Ichimatsu grinned at him in return, placing his own hand on Choromatsu’s back.

Maybe spending the day with each other wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

[mobius-prime]

222. Sonic the Hedgehog #154

Songoose (Part 2 of 2)

Writer: Karl Bollers Pencils: Ron Lim Colors: Jason Jensen

Today's issue is a bit bittersweet. While Karl Bollers hasn't always been the most popular writer, and I've definitely had my fair share of problems with certain aspects of his writing, it's hard to deny the heavy impact he had on the world of the comic. And this just so happens to be his last issue as a writer! That's right, though we've seen various writers come and go, this is the first time we're truly saying goodbye to a head writer. (You might be wondering about Michael Gallagher given his increasingly infrequent involvement with the series, but fear not, he's still got a few more future issues left in 'im.) Apparently he actually had quite a few plans for the storyline and characters post-StH#134, which was a while ago, but for one reason or another these never came to fruition, and never even had a chance to be salvaged for future issues by other writers due to his leaving the comic. So let's dedicate this issue to ol' Karl and the hard work he put into this comic, and appreciate what he brought to the table over the years. Onward!

It's the night of Mina's second concert, and the various Freedom Fighters are positioned at strategic points around and behind the stage and crowd to guard the venue from any more assassination attempts. Mina is pleased with Sonic's involvement in her protection detail, but Ash is considerably less so, and asks to speak to Mina privately before her performance. Sonic initially tries to refuse to leave her side given his duty to her, but when Ash gets in his face about it Mina steps in and tells Sonic she'll be okay to have a quick chat. Sonic reluctantly leaves the dressing room, and Ash confronts Mina about her decision to go through with tonight's concert, as he really feels it's too dangerous. She reiterates her feeling of security with Sonic around, and Ash's feelings of jealousy finally spill out as he details Sonic's perceived failings, including how he (totally unintentionally mind you) broke her heart a year ago by kissing Sally in front of her. He paradoxically refuses to "forgive" Sonic for… not dating Mina, I guess? Which you'd think he'd be pleased about considering that's the only reason he ever got to date her, but she stands firm against his tirade.

Really bad timing on this, Ash. Honestly, though, as abrasive and jealous as Ash can be, he's not wrong at all about his accusations, and in my opinion has every right to feel slighted and upset. He really does seem like a guy who's flawed yet genuinely likable - I mean, put yourself in his shoes (assuming you're not down for open relationships) and tell me you wouldn't feel the exact same way upon seeing your girlfriend routinely eyeing up another guy. Plus, he isn't flaky - notice that despite breaking up with Mina, he explicitly states his intentions to remain as her band manager. A lesser person might have left their ex high and dry out of spite, but despite their disagreement he's still completely ready and willing to help her organize everything she needs to remain a pop star. Careful, Mina, you better remember "Aly's" advice to you from a few issues ago before you let this guy slip through your fingers…

Outside the room, Sonic gets a call from Sally looking for an update, and when he lets slip that he let her stay in her dressing room alone Sally scolds him for not sticking to her like glue, ordering him back into the room to check on her. When he enters he's surprised to see her sitting alone with a sad expression, asking her what's bothering her. You'd think he'd have some clue of what was wrong considering he would have just seen Ash angrily stomping right through the very door he was guarding, but Mina just says she doesn't know how to explain, which Sonic quietly agrees with the sentiment of. She's able to collect herself for her performance, though, and begins by singing another song that definitely feels inspired by her crush on Sonic. However, Eggman's plan to kill her is still moving ahead, and he sends out Heavy and Bomb (well, Bombs, there's a lot of them) to infiltrate the concert crowd once the concert is well underway.

Sonic immediately grabs Mina and pulls her away from the edge of the stage while the rest of the Freedom Fighters rush in to battle the Bombs, something which I find funnier than it should be considering they're, well, bombs, and the best plan for dealing with bombs on legs would usually be to run the hell away from them before they blow up. Nevertheless, they seem to be holding their own by throwing or smacking the Bombs away before they explode, though Ash finds an excuse in the situation to insist once more than Sonic leave so he can protect Mina on his own, even somewhat spitefully pointing out that Mina was fine without Sonic for an entire year before now. Sonic initially refuses, but when Heavy himself arrives, crashing down onto the stage to target Mina directly, Sonic concedes and tells Ash to take her somewhere safe while he fights the robot one on one. At first Sonic teases and trash talks as normal, but when Heavy gives him more trouble than he bargained for he concocts a plan to drill into the earth and bait Heavy into following him, then drill straight into the nearby lake from below. This washes them both out into the open waters, disabling Heavy in the process. I'm not sure exactly how this plan even works, considering we've seen in previous issues that Heavy is waterproof - I mean, did Eggman take out that feature when he rebuilt him? - but either way, it does work, though Sonic falls unconscious once he gets washed out. Man, between his first battle against M in StH#132 and his easy escape from a watery grave in Anti-Mobius just a few issues ago, it really seems like later comic issues like to play fast and loose with the whole "he can't swim" character trait. Sometimes he can detangle himself from tight rope bonds and swim to safety without a problem, and other times he blacks out within scant seconds of touching water, and you never know which one you're gonna get till the plot calls for it. Of course, he's fine after waking up on shore, having been rescued by Bunnie, and the Freedom Fighters tell him that as far as they can tell they disabled or destroyed every Bomb in the area, meaning Mina is safe once more. With the threat ended, Sonic and Mina say goodbye to each other for the night, with Sonic making Mina promise they'll go out for chili dogs sometime soon. However, this wouldn't be a story if something didn't go wrong…

I like to think that this isn't even a case of the Freedom Fighters randomly missing a Bomb, rather being part of Eggman's plan - send in the big, obvious cavalry first to be fought and predictably defeated, then send in one last little Bomb to finish the job once everyone's guard is down. The explosion alerts everyone outside the backstage area, and they rush in to find Mina sobbing over Ash's body. Don't worry, though - when they rush him to the hospital Dr. Quack is able to get him in a stable condition, meaning that though he has a long slow recovery ahead he'll ultimately be fine. Sonic escorts a distraught Mina into Ash's room, where she admits her true feelings to his sleeping form.

I'm surprised that Sonic genuinely seems a little disappointed at their reconciliation, but then again, he and Mina were clearly shown to have some chemistry even before the time skip, though Sonic was obviously drawn more to Sally. It seems that with he and Sally currently being on the outs, and Mina having split from Ash, he had actually considered taking the chance with her - I mean, they did agree to a chili dog date after all - but now that's obviously not happening. Well, maybe the chili dog date is, but not Sonic and Mina becoming an item. What I'm trying to say is, this page has just sunk your Sonic/Mina ship. Fortunately, with this second failure Eggman has decided that trying to kill Mina is too hard and not worth his time, so she should be safe for now. He still finds himself lamenting the loss of his robotic body, however (something that you'd think should be child's play for him to fix considering previously roboticizing himself is literally part of his backstory), finding his current organic body too breakable. The use of that word suddenly makes him pause, having just come up with a new idea… but Karl certainly won't be the one writing about it, as with that final line of dialogue, he's officially completed his time as head writer for the Archie Sonic comics! Sayonara, Karl Bollers - though there were certainly some rough patches, on the whole I enjoyed your work on the comic, and we'll miss ya!

More Than Meets the Eye

Writer/Pencils: Ken Penders Colors: Josh Ray

…though remember, we are still dealing with Penders for a few more issues yet. Since the mission into Megaopolis a couple issues ago, Rotor, Uncle Chuck, Tommy, Tails, and Snively (plus apparently Fiona, for some reason) have all been hard at work studying and trying to understand the nanites. They try blasting them with a ton of electricity, but when that elicits no response from the nanites Tommy worriedly thinks Snively killed them with the zap, though Snively corrects him that biologically speaking, they're not really "alive," nor is anything that Eggman makes. While you may be technically correct from a scientific standpoint, Snively, I think Nicole might have a thing or two to say about your assertion that machines can't be alive…

Well! It seems Tommy was also unconvinced by Snively's words, and his tear splashing down into the nanite goo triggers some kind of reaction, prompting them to rapidly spread out and reach tendrils of themselves towards him. He's understandably a little freaked out and retreats into his shell, but the nanites don't hurt him as they make contact with the shell - in fact, the sensation is ticklish and causes him to start giggling uncontrollably, which must make for a very weird sight as Uncle Chuck reenters the room to investigate the noise. Tommy assures him that he's all right - and then from out of nowhere, his shell sprouts a pair of goddamn wings, because why the hell not?

I initially took issue with this concept due to it being established canon that the nanites can only absorb and reshape non-living matter, whereas turtle shells are definitely living matter, being full of nerve endings and basically being formed from repurposed bone matter from the turtle's ribs and pelvis. However, the above dialogue seems to indicate that they were able to fuse with Tommy's shell anyway by connecting straight into his nervous system. I would guess that after Sonic introduced the nanites to the concept of organic and synthetic coexistence a couple issues ago, they were just waiting for the chance to "study" an organic specimen in their own weird way, and Tommy just happened to end up as their test subject.  Chuck and Tommy call everyone else in, where he notes that the nanites seem to react to his thoughts without said thoughts actually controlling the nanites directly. He demonstrates this by thinking vaguely that he wants to go somewhere, prompting a pair of jetpack engines to sprout from his shell and ignite, carrying him straight out of the lab and into the sky above Knothole. The others watch with an odd mixture of bemusement and amusement as the nanites fly Tommy's body in a pattern, using contrails to write "We're just going for a test drive" in the air. Well Tommy, looks like you have a really cool and unique new ability! It'd certainly be interesting to be fused with self-replicating nanomachines that react to your thoughts and wishes by morphing themselves in ways to grant those wishes, especially when they seem to actively like their host.

[fallen029]

Dream Again

It was probably the calmest day the guildhall had experienced since it's changing of hands. Everyone was around, for weeks it felt like, after Makarov handed over the hall to his grandson. It seemed like everyone equally wanted to be certain this was truly the case, as well as make it in good with their new master.

Which was great for business. Sort of. Mirajane and Kinana scored big in tips, at least, which seemed to please both of them, but any time the guild swelled to capacity, especially for extended days, it seemed to take a rather heavy toll on them both. Even with Lisanna helping out around the bar for the past week, it had just been hectic and overwhelming and things were finally, finally calming down.

"Good thing," Cana griped at one point during the day when Kinana mentioned, in slight elation, the slow, normal pace of the bar that day. "I was gonna have to find somewhere else to drink."

"Oh, no," Laxus grumbled as he walked passed, some papers in his hand that he was going to have to go over, just boring, Master stuff that he definitely wasn't hating already, nope, no way. "How would we ever recover?"

He was just about a month in as Fairy Tail's one and only Master, but already, Laxus was becoming disillusioned. Freed, Ever, and Bickslow held off on going on jobs for as long as possible, to bask in the glory of their idol, living his realized dream, but fuck, they had bills to pay and were all going out on a job that once upon a time, Laxus would have accompanied them on. Not anymore though. Now he had to sit around the dusty old guildhall and do actual paperwork and fuck, following your dreams was a load of crock, a trap, presented to young children by miserable adults who hoped to one day make those children just as miserable.

Yes.

It was the only answer.

"I'm gonna go on break," Mirajane called out to Kinana though, from across the mostly empty bar then, right next to Laxus' ear as she sat down a tall mug of ale in front of the man. He'd have been annoyed by her noisiness, but it hardly even phased him through his headphones.

Not that the woman noticed his glare, anyways, as he snatched up his mug. She was far too busy prancing away, in a hall finally not filled to the brim, and oh, she loved seeing all her friends and making new ones, but it felt so good to be (mostly) alone in her guildhall again,.

Well, Master's guildhall.

By which she meant Master Laxus.

Of course.

She was definitely not struggling with referring to him this way. Not at all.

Laxus forgot about the woman, anyways, for a few minutes as he found himself rather busy with the papers before him. It was just all so much and did the old man really read all this shit? No. No way. Who did he have read it for him?

Frowning, he lifted his head and searched around for Mirajane once more, taking a moment to place where she'd gotten off to. He saw Kinana, behind the bar alone now, and while she had become rather competent in that, he wasn't so sure she was, uh, well, too versed in much else. Not that Mirajane ever seemed to be either, but if she got the old man by these past few years, then…

There she was.

Over on the stage.

Not standing on it. Rather, Mirajane was seated on the edge, legs hanging over it as she sat there with her guitar in her hands, strumming softly and most inaudibly, he imagined. His headphones blocked out anything, anyways, if she was being very loud. Slipping one off his ear, he noticed less her soft singing voice and more the lack of chatter from the local drunks and slackers, who'd fallen silent in order to appreciate the miniature concert they were being treated with currently. It felt almost eerie, really, as Laxus found himself slipping the other headphone off as well, so he could hear it, what the others were experiencing then.

It felt so different. Usually. Soothing, yes, when Mirajane would get up there on the stage and sing to them, but the vibe was strange now with so few people. There was always just a bit of soft talking in the background, some complaints from someone like Gajeel, who thought they could do better, or jealousy from certain women, over how easily Mirajane swayed everyone's attention. The clattering of mugs or even just the collective heaviness a room has, when filled with people, as opposed to the near emptiness it had now.

Mirajane almost seemed oblivious to the others now, as she sang and strummed through her break, and she really didn't have that many eyes on her, not really, as the drunks laid with their heads down, considering her words and melody as they drank their lives away, and the slackers puttered around, considering the talents they refused to hone in such a way. Other than Kinana walking about the small amount of assembled people in the tiny bar, the only sound was Mirajane, the only place to look was Mirajane, and Laxus felt his heart stop, felt like a teenager again, when she glanced up at the exactly right moment to catch his dark eyes with her bright blues, only for the woman to wink, maybe, he thought, smile at least, and the moment was ruined.

Because someone new came into the bar, a loud, rowdy team, which strummed up the bar once once more with chatter and gripes and life, really. Not that Mirajane had sucked the last thing out. No. But the life she breathed into things was just so...tranquil.

And Laxus never experienced anything like that. Ever. How could he? Going from an S-Class wizard, taking the toughest jobs in the land, to dealing with the headaches of a popular guild's master, Laxus was never going to know peace again.

So he sought it out.

It was easy enough, to request Mirajane stick around a bit, after closing. To help him with something. Kinana was the only other person who caught the remark and, honestly, she seemed thankful to be able to escape to dorm and escape the hustle and bustle of the bar. Even on a slow day, sometimes all you wanted was to get out of the place.

Mirajane was dutiful as ever though and had honestly planned on doing some extra closing duties that night anyways and agreed. When the man came out of his office however, after the last straggler had been pushed out the door, she was a bit surprised by his request.

"I want," he told the woman simply, "you to sing me a song."

"Okay," she sighed, tired, but game. Still, she continued to scrub at the glass in her hand as she began to sing, which made the man frown and put it on a quick halt.

"No, Mira," he sighed some with a shake of his head before nodding at the stage. "Up there. With your guitar. Like you were today. I, uh, well… I kinda was into that."

She giggled then, the woman did, as she set the mug down. But it wasn't at him. Rather with him, maybe, as Laxus found himself smiling as well.

"Oh, yeah?" she asked, her eyes alight and the man found himself nodding.

"Yeah."

"Well, Master," she began as she was quick to do as requested, skipping right around the bar and over to the stage, "you could have just invited me over. A private show is much better in your home."

"No, demon, you don't get it." He was following her. "And don't call me that. Right now."

"I have to, Lax," she told him and she sounded more serious then. "If I'm ever gonna be consistent-"

"Fuck consistency." He took a seat nearest to the stage, sitting so he was facing her, hunched over with his chin rested in his palms. "I'm not your fucking master."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"What are you then, huh?"

"Demon-"

"Say it." She took her own seat, there, right across from him, on the edge of the stage. She hardly put any effort into it, just waved her hands slightly and it appeared, summoned from some sort of reequip space, her pink acoustic guitar. But she didn't move to strum a single note, didn't form a single chord over any fret as she instead stared the man dead in the eyes. "What do you want me to call you?"

Laxus didn't like it. When she thought she had power over him. Unfortunately, however, he wanted something from her then and if that meant that he was going to have to give in a little…

"I'm your dragon," he told her simply, flatly, but it was enough to get a bright grin out of the woman and, maybe, his face didn't look as glum as it typically did. "What else would you call me?"

"Nothing, dragon," she practically sang and it took a few more seconds before she'd composed herself enough to finally return the request.

They had been dating for only a few months when Makarov approached him about turning the guildhall over. It wasn't like it was a complete secret. Just not something that was spoken about. Back then. Mira dated a lot of people. Laxus too. It made sense that they'd cross over from time to time. They were both high up mages, not only in their own guild, but in the country overall. A lot of overlap in their circles. And for two young people who never seemed to interested in being tied down, the idea that they could occasionally entertain one another wasn't wholly impossible. Interesting, maybe, to certain ears, but now felt so commonplace that it hardly was so.

It was around the time that Makarov offered up the hall though that Laxus felt himself getting a bit more serious about the woman. When he approached her about it though, as well as his impending promotion, she was quick to agree, but only conditionally.

"Let's not tell anyone. Okay? About how close we are now? Let's just keep things normal." And she smiled at him, that same one that could get him to do just about anything. "I wanna be with you too, dragon, only you, but… Once you become Master, it'll be different. People will treat you differently. Let's just...wait it out a bit, okay? And keep it a secret. Alright?"

He only brushed her soft white hair behind one of her ears and agreed. Keeping secrets with a demon was the exact kind of nonsense he loved to find himself in.

Their nights spent together were sporadic, but wonderful when they came, and Laxus knew once things calmed down around the bar, they could probably send Kinana home early most nights after things cleared out, only to spend even more time together. But tonight, in that moment, as she sang to him so soft and sweet, Laxus found himself less falling in love with her and more getting an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"How'd you do it, demon?" he asked softly when the first song came to an end. As the woman stared at him inquisitively, Laxus only continued, "How'd you give up on your dreams?"

"What do you mean, silly?" she asked with a bit of a frown. "What dream?"

"You know." He nodded then, at her in general, but specifically what she was holding. "You wanted to be a singer, didn't you? You're awfully good. You couldda at least given it a try. A real try. And it mightta meant something." Before she could comment though, he shook his head and said, "But you never did. You play for these losers in the bar, fine, and you play for me, when I ask you to, but-"

"Do you think, so?" she asked, looking up then, as if thinking. "That I couldda been something?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe," she agreed and it was the most either would know about it. Sighing some, she said, "But then I wouldn't be here right now."

"I know."

"We probably wouldn't have dated."

"Yeah, probably not."

"Then-"

"I'm not saying it's a bad thing you didn't, Mira," he told her then. "I think it's a good thing, even. I just...when it's presented to you, and you're that close to it, when you have a chance at it...how do you not even reach for it? Or try?"

"Laxus, I don't think I understand."

He just made a face as he admitted, "Being Master blows."

"You've been Master for, at most, a month."

"And it's sucked. I can't go out on jobs, I gotta do paperwork all the time, turns out I can't even kick morons like Natsu or Erza outta my guild cause they're strong or whatever and would go join someone else and make us not strong-"

"These sound like really petty problems you should have realized would happen before you even said yes."

"I just," he finished then, "thought that I would feel something. I mean, I did feel something. That first day. And the second. I felt something really nice, that third night, when you came by my place-"

"It was a good night."

"But now… Fuck, I dunno." He looked off. "Same thing happened when I first got S-Class. I toiled for that shit, then I got it and after… Why do we chase these big, fantastical ideas and concepts, just for these stupid fleeting moments? Nothing good ever lasts."

"Don't say that." She even made a face, setting her guitar to the side then. "Seriously. It's kinda a shitty thing to say to your girlfriend."

Bowing his head, Laxus told her, "What's the point, huh? In anything? It's all so fucking fleeting."

"That's because you're not at the rewarding parts yet, silly." Jumping up then, she made her way over to the man. As she rested as hand on his shoulder, she remarked, "The good things are yet to come. Like, the first time you get to crown someone S-Class. Someone who toiled and worked for it, just like you. The first time you and your guild, your mages, save the entire planet. You know that's coming. We're Fairy Tail, dragon, no matter whose Master."

"Demon-"

"The first time some scrawny little kid that you took in off the street masters a spell or when a lowly mage you helped find their way completes a really tough job..." Mira trailed off, looking away from him then, a smile tugging at her lips. "You completed a dream, fine, Laxus, if that's what you wanna call it, but there's more to it than that. You keep dreaming. You know? Is this really all you want to do with your life? 'cause at one time, all I could dream about was becoming S-Class too. And you know what? It came and went and I wanted something else. Yes, at one time, I wanted to be a super star, with my guitar, and I wanted everyone to know my name and sing my songs, but...I grew up. And passed that. I have different dreams now. So many. And you do too. Don't you?"

He muttered some stuff then, under his breath, while she just giggled over him.

"I wanna buy a house one day."

"You've already done that," he pointed out, glancing up at her.

"No, with...someone. Not my brother and sister. Like a nice place." She dropped her hand from his shoulder. "And I wanna have kids. Or at least one. Maybe. Sometimes I think I'd be happier, you know, if Elf and Lisanna just did that instead? Had the kids? And I could be the cool aunt. And I've always dreamed of...well… Maybe I shouldn't say it."

"What? Huh?" He lifted his head fully then. "To get married? To a man with a comfortable salary? Big wedding? You can tell me. Scared of jinxing our relationship or something?"

"That's...not big dream, but you go for that comfortably employed man, Lax."

"Demon-"

"I've just always wanted to say, 'Fuck it,'" she told him then, her tone far too bright for the words spewing from her mouth. Hand slowly falling from his shoulder, she turned from the man then as she looked around the hall in wonder. "I wanna just walk out the door and it not matter. Any of it. Any of them. I'd just...not care about this place anymore. What happened to it. I mean, I know I would eventually. That'd I'd come back sometime. But could you imagine it? What it would mean? To not be a Fairy anymore? Ever again? Really, ever again? Not because the guild gets destroyed or something awful like that, but just because...you chose it. Something different. In your life. And there'd be no hard feelings? Just a sense of completion? And you could move on to the next portion of your life? Finally?"

Slowly, Laxus head fell again, about the same time Mirajane let out the breath she'd been holding in.

"I think," he told her then, "that maybe, it wouldn't really matter. If you did walk away. Tomorrow. Right now, even. Or if I gave up being Master today and went back on S-Class jobs. We still wouldn't be happy. Not really. No happier, I mean, I guess. You just always want something else. It's illusive. Maybe even not real. Really being happy. It never really comes, does it?"

Mira considered his words, far too pessimistic for her daytime, in front of the others persona, but so late at night, crossing over into early morning, it didn't make her frown. Instead it just made her head tilt a bit as she thought.

"I'm happy when I'm with you," she offered him. "Always."

"Yeah," he agreed, "but what happens when you're not?"

"I break your heart, dragon. What else?"

He didn't want to laugh. He relaly didn't. But it just fell out of him, full bellied and deep, so hard that it almost hurt, while Mirajane smirked victoriously over him, the man's laughter echoing in the otherwise completely, truly empty guildhall.

Eventually, when his laughter died down, she turned and headed back over to the stage to take a seat once more.

"Another song, Master?" she asked and his chest hurt too much from laughter to correct her, meaning all he could do was nod.

Her singing and guitar sounded much better to him, than his own laughter had, reverberating in the empty guildhall, and it felt like it had only just began, four songs later, when Mirajane seemed to be growing tired and he knew he had to let her go, even if it was just for the night, as they both needed their rest.

"Maybe, dragon," she yawned to him when they parted, half an hour later, just outside her quiet little home she shared with her siblings, him not walking her all the way to the porch, but rather just standing there, watching her go up it from the sidewalk, "we'll just always be happy with one another. Like how I always will be, with Lisanna and Elf, and you'll always be happy with the Thunder Legion."

And it felt so good, so very good, to smile truly for the woman and only the woman, as he nodded his head, only turning his back once she was safely in the house.

"Maybe, demon," he whispered in parting, if only for a few hours. "Maybe."

[elopez7228]

Scenic Route 24/47

Read on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/18268208/chapters/43229774 

Start over : https://elopez7228.tumblr.com/post/620919089893933056/scenic-route-0147

***

Gripping the steering wheel, Syed inhaled deeply. Her heart was beating wildly out of pace.

I only did my duty she repeated to herself—her new mantra. Kylo was getting sloppy and it was my duty to alert Snoke.

She wondered how she was going to explain herself, to convince the others. It had been six years since she joined the Knights of Ren: Skylar, Saul, Shakti, Kelsi, and Tyra.

They were more than colleagues, more than friends. They were almost like brothers and sisters, with their conflicts, their arguments, their crazy pranks,  their terrifyingly close calls, and—if she was being honest—the occasional make out session.

Above all, they had one constant rule: Kylo Ren was their leader and they would sacrifice everything for him if needed.

It's not betrayal. I’m doing my duty. It was him, Kylo Ren, who was betraying his mentor and his mission. He put FORCE in danger for a pair of pretty eyes.

He had always been overly impulsive and capricious. Syed admired that, most of the time. They were alike in that regard. They loved passionately, hated passionately, and they lived without compromise. It was all or nothing. But this time, Kylo has gone too far.

As for herself, now that she had dared to contact Hux directly, she could no longer go back. She had crossed the point of return. Kylo Ren would suffer for his choices at Snoke’s hand, he would be humiliated...and then? Then he would shred her to pieces. He had underestimated the consequences of his actions, but she would not commit the same mistake. He would kill her. Or would have her killed.

By taking a stand against him, she had just lost the right to peace of mind. He could spend every day and night getting revenge...unless she acted first. Trying not to panic, she calmed herself enough to unlock her phone.

*

Rey gripped the leash tightly, for fear of losing BB8 as she navigated the pre-marked trails. On the other end, BB8 trotted along happily, wagging her tail with excitement.

Mammoth was an absolute tourist trap, full of geysers more than anything else. Rey had become accustomed to seeing them within the park, but they were still geological marvels in their own right, a fascinating spectacle of hot water cascading against a bed of immaculately calcified rock to form an overflowing basin. Rey took a few photos while Maz stepped aside to take an incoming call. When she returned, Rey was sure that something was wrong as soon as she saw Maz’s concerned expression.

“Rey, I just received a call from a fellow hitchhiker who is willing to split a ride with me. I’d posted a request on a travel forum online.”

“Okay?” Rey nodded, unsure of what she was asking for.

“They’re going all the way from Bozeman to Seattle but they leave tomorrow morning.”

“Oh...” Rey’s face fell even as she tried to understand. “Is this good news or bad news, then?”

“Well,” Maz sighed, a hint of embarrassment in her voice, “it’s good news for me, I’ll be able to go almost all the way up to the Canadian border. But as for the concert...”

“Oh?” Rey managed, her vocabulary coming up a bit short. “You’re going to have to leave me already...”

“It’s alright, Rey, don’t worry. I can refuse the ride. We can go to the concert together, I can see it’s very important to you.”

Rey shook her head, forcing herself to smile. “No, Maz, you have to make it to that car. Life on the road is unpredictable and you can’t afford to pass up a good opportunity like this.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive,” Rey said as firmly as she could, “you need to get to Bozeman and I can take you there.”

Maz opened her mouth to refuse but Rey interjected. “Come on, I insist. It’s not like I have anything better to do. I would rather not walk around alone for the rest of the day. You need be in Bozeman tomorrow morning so it’s best if we leave now and spend the night there.”

In the end, they finished walking along the marked trail before finding their way back to the Falcon.

Rey froze in her tracks as soon as they arrived. There it was again, the same charcoal grey SUV she had seen next to the river, now sitting motionless in the visitor parking.

It could have been mere coincidence. After all, weren’t there plenty of high-end vehicles out here in the park? Only one way to find out.

Syed jumped when Rey knocked on the driver-side window, eyes widening  in surprise when she recognized the face on the other side. But she quickly schooled her features into a more neutral expression.

“Hello, Rey. Having fun?”

Rey offered no greeting in return.

“Are you following me?” she demanded instead, staring the other woman down with flinty eyes.

It would have been a ridiculous question, even a paranoid one, had it not been the case. Syed seemed taken aback.

“Following you? What for?”

“You tell me. I saw your car at the river, and I told myself it looked familiar but it was probably a coincidence. But you were at Old Faithful and Grand Prismatic Spring too, weren’t you? Either this is an incredible coincidence or you’ve been chasing me. So you tell me why.”

“Yellowstone is always worth the trip,” Syed hissed through gritted teeth. “You think I came all the way out here just because of you?”

Rey crossed her arms.

“Oh, really? You had a concert yesterday. Did you really ditch your job to come play tourist?”

“It’s a free country, I can go wherever I please. Kylo didn’t need me for a while so I took the day off.”

“Did he put you up to this?”

Syed paused to take a breath. She’d been caught red-handed, her cover blown and her mission compromised. But the tables had turned too, she was no longer on Kylo’s side even though Rey was still the target. She had to handle this carefully...no use in hiding, Rey was on to her. It was time to switch to subtler tactics.

“Okay, fine. Look, Kylo was worried about you.” She admitted, sounding sincerely embarrassed even to her own ears. “You told him a woman was following you and trying to steal your car. He just wanted to make sure nothing happened to you, that’s all.”

At that, Rey’s arms fell limply to her sides. She had been expecting more denial, or a fight, really anything but this kind of sincerity.

“No...but, I—“ she stammered, “that—that’s not a reason!”

Sensing her weakness, Syed played the ultimate card...by saying exactly nothing. She pursed her lips and gave Rey a chagrined look, wordlessly conveying the misfortune of the unintended situation in her had found themselves in.

Rey was speechless. She didn’t khnow whether to be furious or grateful. Was he really tracking her to keep her safe? Wasn’t she the one who asked for help—could she really blame him for this? She really didn’t know.

Maz placed a gentle hand on her arm. “Rey,” she sighed, “we really have to get going. Come, let’s go.”

She led Rey a little further away before turning to wave Syed off. “Sorry about the misunderstanding. Give our regards to Ben, won’t you? Bye!”

Syed watched them walk away with a polite smile on her face, before suddenly  collapsing into a boneless heap at the steering wheel. She buried her face in her hands and rerouted into nervous laughter.

Fuck. She’d come within inches of an outright disaster. Her whole plan was ruined, not that it mattered now. She had bigger things at stake. If she could give Snoke what he wanted, to hell with the other FORCE agents. She could become the new master of the Knights of Ren. She would recruit new members and start over. No way she would trust anyone who had been loyal to Kylo. All of them were unpredictable...she wouldn’t spend every waking hour of the next few years wondering which one of them would betray her next.

She was so heartbroken that she lost the battle with the bile rising in her throat. She got out of the car to throw up.

Why was she like this, wasn’t this what she wanted? Why was she cracking under the pressure now, when she had been through worse before?

Rhetorical questions. She knew exactly why. She knew that by actively going against Kylo’s orders like this that they would be through. Everything would be lost, their history, their connection, their respect. It didn’t matter how strong it had gotten over the years. After this betrayal, he would look at her only in disdain.

He wouldn’t love her anymore. The would only be hate.

Syed leaned against the car for support as another wave of nausea overtook her.

Fortunately, Rey and her companion saw nothing of this as Maz continued to lead the way to the Millenium Falcon, far from the SUV and its owner.

“Rey,” Maz began, “I don’t know what’s going on between you and this Ben, Kylo, or whatever his name is. Did someone really try to steal your car?”

“Yes,” Rey nodded. “It’s true.” And Ben asking Syed to keep an eye on her was likely the truth as well. Wasn’t she the one who called him in the middle of the night from a campsite, demanding his protection? Could she really fault him for taking it so seriously?  

Maz looked up at her with a worried expression. “I wish I could tell you that I would join you for the concert after what just happened...it’s a tough call to leave you with such an eccentric man involved. But I think I would be the last person you need if you really want to get through this.”

Rey cocked her head to one side in confusion.

“Listen,” Maz said in a serious tone, all traces of a smile gone from her face. She straightened to her full height as she continued. “You’re not a damsel in distress. You don’t need a strong man to protect you, or some sort of fairy godmother. Get out of that mindset. You are strong and brave in your own right. You’ve travelled all this way alone and you’ve even faced a bear alone. You don’t need to prove yourself to anyone.”

“But I—“ Rey began before Maz interrupted her again. “You’re feeling fragile because of the emotional trauma you’ve endured. That’s normal. It’s perfectly natural to want to be comforted, to be reassured, after what happened to you. But that’s no reason to fall for the first man who is interested. If you want someone, stay with them because you want them, not because you need them. Do you understand?”

Rey pursed her lips. It was an awkward conversation to have. She felt like Maz was undressing her somehow, seeing past her paper-thin defenses, straight into her soul, and laying bare the years of lies and self-persuasion. She hated this. Being drilled into and cracked open, being hit exactly where it hurt. She acquiesced, tears pooling in her eyes.

“Don’t make any rash decisions.” Maz continued still. “Don’t hang on to people like lifelines. That makes you dependent. Dependence leads to an unbalanced relationship. What Ben did to you, having you followed without your consent, was to put you in a gilded cage. And you played the part of the princess in need. That’s not a relationship. You deserve better than that, Rey.”

“What am I supposed to do then?” Asked Rey, her voice on the verge of breaking.

“It’s not my place to tell you. Listen to your heart. Decide for yourself what is important, what is necessary or tolerable, or not tolerable at all. And then make a decision. Act on it, and move forward.”

Sensing her friend’s unhappiness, BB8 leapt up onto her hind legs, nuzzling Rey’s leg and begging to be cuddled. It made Rey smile, despite her tears.

“An unhappy princess, a crazy adventure, an adorable sidekick...it’s all here. I guess that makes you my fairy godmother, doesn’t  it?”

Maz rolled her eyes. “Very well,” she said, holding her hands out as if to cast a magic spell, “by the powers vested in me as you fairy godmother,” she intoned solemnly, “I hereby declare you, Rey Jakku, free of your own personal prison! You may dance and shout “fuck” all night if you want to, amen.”

She didn’t know if it was the magic spell or the power of self-determination, but suddenly Rey felt a million times lighter. She couldn’t help laughing. Once again, this strange little woman had hurt her in the best way, tearing her false hopes and convictions into shreds in order to face the unknown. But she was right. Rey didn’t owe anything to anyone. Who was she afraid of displeasing now tat she no longer fit the description of the pretty little city girl she had built up for herself? It was her choice.

As for Ben Solo, what he want from her? What did he think she could bring him? If he thought she was just a fragile plaything, he was sorely mistaken.

And as for the concert...she would see.

“All aboard!” Rey announced as she carried BB8 to the back seat. “We have two hours to get to Bozeman and that’ll give us just enough time to look for a place to stay tonight.”

“I know the perfect motel,” Maz agreed. “My treat. I know this detour is for me ans it’s the least I can do. How about a real mattress, and a real shower with quality shampoo? How does that sound?”

That sounded amazing.

The Millenium Falcon soared past the northern entrance of the park, merging onto I-89 towards Bozeman.

Rey searched for Syed’s SUV in the rear view mirror, but it never appeared.

Was she finally free?

[daddyzanchez]

Literally just angst I put together in 3 hours, and I am posting it because I am wild and I have clue if it is good or bad. In this story, Diane and Rick did not end up together. They were simply teen lovers, now meeting backstage after 30ish years after a concert by The Flesh Curtains.

1800 words - SFW - F/M - The Flesh Curtains, Diane Sanchez, teen romance, heartbreak, angst and feels  

Link to story on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19878262

Silent Dressing Rooms

Rick stubs out his cigarette the moment that he hears a knock on his door. It isn’t a staff-member because their way of knocking is usually followed by them entering with little warning. The person on the other side hasn’t gone in yet. 

People aren’t usually allowed backstage after a gig, especially as Rick and his band has gained the popularity they have; a bigger place would never be so care but then again, The Flesh Curtains has played at the old bar where they first performed. The place is as gross as he remembers from his youth. The walls of his backstage room are dirty and the smoking laws haven’t been introduced here yet, hence why he was enjoying an after-gig smoke.

A second knock interrupts his train of thought and he pushes himself to stand. He dreads whatever is behind the door, not being in the mood for fans. Instead, he wants to sip a beer in peace whilst going back down memory lane. 

“S-sorry, I’m not-” he says greets the woman on the other side but he stops dead in his sentence. It is Diane, and he is suddenly further down memory lane than he expected. More precisely, he is seventeen and back in high school again. His love for music is at its peak and Diane is sitting on his bed as he plays the guitar.

“Diane,” he says instead and she immediately goes in to hug him. She doesn’t quite feel the same but he guesses she hasn’t since they broke up years ago.

“Rick,” she replies and squeezes him to the point that makes him realise that she is a mother now. There’s something different about the way she hugs, some kind of affection that only a woman with children can transfer in her embraces. When she pulls back, she is grinning, “God, it’s been so long. Look at you.”

“Look at me?” Rick finds that he hasn’t got any other reply for that and gives her a smile in return. He steps aside to motion for her to come in, and then closes the door behind her. 

“You look so different from back then,” she elaborates. 

“I-I was seventeen,” he argues as he walks back to sit down once again. Rick holds out his hand, gesturing to a poor quality chair for her to sit down as well. 

“That’s how I remember you,” she pulls the chair in front of him, close enough for their knees to nearly touch. She leaves her coat on when she takes a seat, and Rick can feel a pang of hurt in his stomach. Why does such a little detail tell you so much? It’s suddenly very clear that there’s no big intentions behind her visit, and when he looks down, he even sees a wedding band on her finger. 

“Congratulations,” he tries to make conversation. 

“Thank you,” Diane plays with the ring on her finger, smiles to herself as if remembering something fondly at the very touch of the gold. It’s envy that Rick feels now. He never got to have that with her.

---------------------------------------

“What do you mean we’re not c-compatible?” Rick snapped as Diane’s bottom lip quivered, “Is this some bullshit that your dad has put in your head again?”

“You know how he is, Rick,” she replied, a tear starting to roll down her cheek after she had blinked. Her blush had wet vertical streaks, “I can’t-”

“Yes you can,” he interrupted. The anger he felt in his body was rising above his head soon, and the very fact that he even considered having Diane be a part of his life as a roadie with an upcoming music career was foolish. She could never be that person because she was a coward, “You can, Diane. You just don’t want to because how dare I try to show you anything that isn’t your parents’ boring life of suffocating domestic bliss?”

“Rick.”

“Little miss goody two shoes, give me a break,” he scoffed.

Diane narrowed her eyes, suddenly frantically wiping her tears away. Gotcha, was all he could think. 

“Really, Rick?” She spat, and if he did not know her, he would actually feel a bit scared as she stepped forward to poke his chest, “You really think that you could become anything with whatever you think you can do? Striving to work with music? You really think you’re gonna be able to feed your family with a gig at a bar once a month. You’re set up for failure, that’s what my dad says.”

---------------------------------------

Rick cannot recall the last time he has slammed a door as hard as he did back then. 

“Are you happy?” He asks bluntly. A part of her wants to be miserable so his words from back then were true. He hates being wrong but he can tell the answer already.

“We’ve been married happily for two decades now, own a house, two children; a boy and a girl,” Diane’s face lights up when she talks about them in a way that he remembers so well from back when they were dating. She looks prettier when it happens, younger even and Rick wants to smile to acknowledge her happiness in life, reach out to touch her again but the urge fades and the smile barely makes it across his face when she asks him the same question.

She frowns when Rick shakes his head, and something tells him that it was nothing but a formality instead of a genuine question.

“N-not yet,” he quickly adds to relieve her of her awkwardness, “S-s-something can change though, I’m not out of years, you know.”

“Speaking of years,” Diane quickly changes the subject, and Rick has to admit that he feels just as relieved as she probably does, “How long has it been?”

“Since?” Rick leans back into his chair to reach behind him for his pack of cigarettes. He offers one to her but she declines.

“Us.”

---------------------------------------

“You really think I could tour the world?” Rick asked as he looked up at the ceiling. There was a poster of Mick Jagger, and he smirked at how conveniently it was placed for when you’ were lying here all alone. Additionally, Rick knew it was a hint to why Diane was so crazy about him.

“I’m positive but don’t leave me here. I’ll have to come with you,” Diane curled up at his side, pecking his cheek and didn’t even take a second to look up at Jagger’s face. Rick felt pride when moments went by and she still didn’t look up at the poster but instead kept her nose in the crook of his neck.

“W-what about your parents?” He turned his head to kiss her lips.

“Screw them,” she said between a string of small pecks.

“Why I have never!” Rick clutched his chest dramatically.

Diane giggled loudly, slapping him playfully. Rick grabbed her and pulled her on top of himself, digging his fingers into her sides to tickle her and moments later, she was shrieking and begging and laughing, and Rick felt like his heart was going to burst. 

“I don’t care about them,” she said when she finally caught her breath, “I only care about us.”

---------------------------------------

Us. Rick lights his cigarette to let the word hang in the air for a moment, drags out the moment even further by taking a drag. What he wouldn’t give to go back to that very memory where the word had a different ring to it than it does right now.

“Must be about 30-ish years, right?” Rick blows out smoke, any excuse to face away from her for the brief moment it takes for him to not get all emotional about it. The last thing he wants is to show her how she’s still there, haunting him daily in his thoughts without him even noticing that he is thinking of her.

“34, I think,” she calculates with a tiny laugh, sounding astounded by the mere concept of time. Rick finds it more beautiful than any guitar solo he’s ever heard, “I can’t believe I haven’t bumped into you since.”

“I-I moved away as quickly as I could after graduating,” he shrugs, “Nothing was left for me here, and thank God I got out of this prison. Could you see me here? Working a normal job with n-normal hours?” 

“Funny, I stayed. Even live a few blocks down the road,” she doesn’t sound offended by his insults towards their hometown or maybe she just chooses to ignore them, so they don’t have another fight like that one, “I heard you were playing here through a friend from work.”

“You liked it? The show? The songs?” He awaits her judgement. Some songs are about her.

“Some of the slower ones, you know which ones I am talking about, were they about me?” She asks, and finally, there’s something in her eyes that tell him that this was what she came here to ask for because her cheeks go pink and her breathing speeds up. 

“Some of them,” he admits without hesitation. 

“Naaah,” she says playfully, nearly seems like she is joking and it hurts Rick more than he thought it would, “I don’t remember us quite like that.”

“I remember more than juuu-ust tears and screaming,” he mumbles, and the way her eyebrows go slightly up tells him that she regrets having said it quite like that.

“No romanticising it at all? I don’t believe you.” 

“I mean every word I write, Diane, d-d-don’t fucking try and come here to question my work,” Rick suddenly snarls, throwing the cigarette on the concrete floor and stubbing it out with his heel. The ashtray seems to far away right now.

There’s silence for a moment.

“I have to go,” she quickly gets up from her seat, coat never having left her shoulders because it is part of her escape plan not to have taken it off. 

She’s out the door in less than ten seconds, and the room goes painfully quiet when she leaves. Something about the encounter seems surreal, as if he is high and has imagined the whole thing. 

The next knock on the door is familiar, and sure enough, a broad and tall man enters the room with the bar’s logo on his shirt. He holds onto the doorknob as he speaks, “Sanchez, get up. There’s people out there who would like to get an interview.”

He pauses briefly, then frowns, “Man, you smoked in here? Look at that mess on the floor! We’re gonna need to call the cleaners on your bill.”

The door closes. Rick lights a third cigarette. 

[wackygoofball]

Hey, I want to say that I absolutely love your Jaime x Brienne moodboard AUs and cannot WAIT for Season 8 to kick off! I was watching Music and Lyrics the other day and was wondering if you'd done a moodboard for that yet? Because I think that would be amazing!

Hi anon, thanks for the lovely suggestion and for enjoying my moodboards! I love the movie to bits and pieces, it’s such a fun movie. Since I haven’t created a moodboard yet, it is now done. I hope it is to your liking:

Jaime Lannister is afailing musician. Back in his prime, his little brother and he started a kindof boyband, or a “mock band” as they called it, formed for the sole reason tospite their father and repay him for the unfair treatment particularly towardshis youngest son. Jaime played guitar, composed, and was the lead singerwhereas Tyrion took care of writing the lyrics, background singing, and themarketing behind the scenes.

Surprisingly, their mockband proved successful and soon they were actually superstars, gave concerts,landed on cover magazines and were offered dozens of contracts. In fact, theymade enough money to have a chance to break free from the family business, awelcome opportunity after Tywin threated to disown them both, should they continue“this utter folly any longer.”

However, things turnedsouth after that rather quicly: Jaime and Tyrion parted on very unkind terms,resulting in the younger brother going to Essos whereas Jaime remained in Westeros,with their mock band’s success soon no longer living up to its former glories.

Not wanting to crawl backto his family, Jaime decided to stay in the music business on his own andattempt a solo career. However, that didn’t work out greatly either, which lefthim under the belief rather fast that Tyrion was right with what he said to himbefore they parted – that Jaime never had any actual talent as an artist and hadonly ever been there for the looks. Then, Jaime got into an accident whileonstage, which left his right hand permanently damaged, thus making itimpossible for him to play instruments the way he used to.

In the present day, Jaimelets his not-at-all-too-great manager Bronn Blackwater run his business andorganize gigs in theme parks, furniture stores, and for mall openings where he performsthe old songs from the mock band all by himself.

Bronn surprises him withthe sudden job offer by rising star Daenerys Targaryen, a blonde beauty whocaused one sensation after another back in Essos, and now wants to launch hercareer in Westeros. She is invested in mixtures of modern beats with touches ofthe music of those places she visited on her journeys, including Dothraki folkmusic. Daenerys is looking for someone to write her a love song after she justrecently had to break up with her boyfriend Daario Naharis, to pursue her musiccareer in Westeros.

Bronn’s first attempts tofind Jaime a songwriter, since Jaime refuses to write songs, well aware that heis “not good with words,” quickly end in disaster when the man thinks his edgylyrics will do them any favors and insists on his artistic genius whereas Jaimejust finds that he is a pain in the arse.

His attention soon driftsaway from the self-absorbed guy over to the mannish woman who suddenly winded upat his apartment this very day to water his plants. She appears in place forhis old friend Catelyn Stark who normally volunteers to the task because shewants to check on him and Jaime just lets it happen so Cat won’t make noiseabout it. The blonde woman keeps humming along to the first music tunes Jaimestarted to put together, but soon makes up her own lyrics as she continues towater his plants – including those made of plastic – and Jaime must say: herlyrics are on point.

On a whim, he decides tofire the self-absorbed pain-in-the-ass songwriter and asks the woman carrying ablue watering can whether she wants to become a songwriter for him.

“… I don’t even know you. Iam just here to water some plants.”

“The name is JaimeLannister, pleased to meet you. And I think you drowned all of themsufficiently, Miss…”

“Brienne of Tarth, butBrienne’s enough.”

“Well, Brienne, then I’m just Jaime to you. So now that we are on firstname basis, how about you reconsider my offer? You would be paid real goodmoney and did I mention that you would be writing for Daenerys Targaryen?”

“I don’t know who that is.”

“She is the next risingstar in the music industry.”

“I honestly don’t know herand I should be on my way. Good day, sir, I mean… Jaime.”

And with that, shedisappears as fast as she came. Normally, Jaime would leave it at that and lookfor someone else, but time is scarce and he has to get that tape to DaenerysTargaryen as soon as possible if he wants to have any chance to get out of the endlesslimbo of mall openings and having his butt grabbed by way too eager fans. Thus,he continues to chase the woman, thankfully, Cat proves useful by providing himwith some information about her, though she cautions him that she is protectiveof her employee and won’t allow any harm to come to her.

“I wouldn’t ever. Cat, you knowme.”

“Well enough to know thatthis is right up your alley.”

“I thought you grew tobegrudgingly accept me.”

“Because you helped me getmy girls back. Other than that, I still consider you a nuisance at best.”

“You always have such nicewords for me, I feel blessed.”

Jaime eventually tracksBrienne down and confronts her about his offer another time, finding himselfalmost (but just almost) pleading herto at least give it a try.

“I need someone to writethe song for me.”

“But you are a musician. Youare a professional. Can’t you do that yourself far better?”

“I’m not a songwriter. Ican’t write lyrics for the life of it. I shit you not, I even struggled readingin school. C’mon, help a failing artist in need, wench.”

“What did you just call me?”

“I love old insults.”

“You are serious aboutthis.”

“As serious as someonefrequently showing up at furniture stores with sequined jackets can possiblybe.”

“Wow, you are desperate.”

“You have no clue.”

“Well, I suppose it can’tharm. And anyway, I still ought to water your plants.”

“They are all dead, buttheir sacrifice will be worth it so long you write this song for me.”

“They are all dead? What?”

“Well, the plastic ones arejust drenched. But that shouldn’t matter, we ought to get started. Now.”

And so, Brienne findsherself at Jaime Lannister’s apartment, pondering song lyrics for the veryfirst time in her life. It’s not like writing is at all unfamiliar to her. Backin college, she even took writing classes, always having felt an affinity forknightly tales already during childhoold. And of course there was that oneshort excursion into the life of an author, but that is something she won’tever revisit in a lifetime.

No thanks.

She remains surprised athow enthusiastic and eager Jaime is about her lyrics, which poses a starkcontrast to him being annoyed with her and her methods half the time, butBrienne finds that Jaime has to deal with that if he wants those lyrics fromher.

Though he won’t stopcalling her wench, no matter her insistence.

And Brienne must say, JaimeLannister is not at all what she first thought him to be, even more so aftershe watched some odd videos of hispast performances and finds herself dragged to one of his gigs in a theme parkshortly thereafter. Because Jaime did not lie about the women grabbing him in very inappropriate places. While he canbe a pompous ass, Brienne soon has to realize that beneath the sequined jacketsand easy smiles is a man who struggles with his identity as a musician afterhis injury made it impossible for him to compose the way he used to, thus beingforced to keep that old spark alive with playback tunes of the former mock band’sgreatest hits.

And oddly so, she findsherself relating to that. Because Jaime Lannister is not the only onestruggling with coming to terms with the past.  

The deadline keeps drawingto a close, but they are making good progress. To celebrate, Jaime invites Brienneto have some dinner in his favorite restaurant just down the street when thingstake a sudden turn. Brienne storms out of the restaurant when she catches sightof a man enjoying dinner with some business friends, it appears. Jaime chasesafter her and has to tease it out of Brienne that she and the man in therestaurant have a history:

Some years back, Brienne workedat Renly Baratheon’s company as his personal assistant but soon grew to be hisright-hand woman, impressing with her writing talent that soon surpassed thoseof any other senior, something that did not sit well with most of thepredominantly male staff. Though Brienne didn’t really care in the beginning,since she joined to be around the man she was secretly in love with, she becamemore conscious of her position as she was more and more successful over time.However, then Brienne found herself caught up by sudden attention coming from anumber of co-workers who suddenly wanted to date her. One man went too farduring a team-building exercise, and she pushed him away, only for him to burnhis arse in a campfire. As a result, she was ordered to a mediation sessionwith him and personnel manager Randyll Tarly, the very same man currentlydining in the restaurant. When the guy threatened to sue for assault, Briennethreatened back with charges for sexual harassment, only for the man to saythat this was “not worth the wager.” It was thus revealed that he and the guyswho wanted to suddenly date her had a bet on who would get her to sleep withone of them first. Brienne thought Mr. Tarly would be on her side, but, despitehis insistence that he would have sanctions be handed out to the menresponsible, insisted that she certainly was to be held responsible for it aswell. What did she expect, as a woman in her position, taking up all thatattention?

That alone nearly brokeBrienne, but things just kept getting worse because Renly’s company had to filefor bankruptcy and he had to return back to Storm’s End. Not wanting to accept“defeat” and to go back to her father as utter disappointment, Brienne took theoffer Catelyn, a business partner she got to know through Renly, made her inthe aftermath. Thus, she departed from Bitterbridge and followed Cat to King’sLanding to start working for her instead.

Brienne spent most days inhiding thereafter, always feeling haunted by rumors about her, a circumstancethat found its epic peak when Randyll Tarly published a guidebook for personnelmanagers wherein he described “fictional cases,” at the heart of which stoodBrienne’s case. And the light he shed on her was not at all favorable, to saythe very least. To make matters impossibly worse, the book became a bestseller,as most people found Mr. Tarly’s dry and tough retellings oddly amusing.

“End of story.”

Brienne doesn’t want to goback into the restaurant at all, which is why she begs Jaime to just leave andgo somewhere else, but Jaime decides that it’s time she lives up to her ownbest example, being stubborn and brave past the point of sense at times, andfinally confront the man who brought her so much harm.

Brienne reluctantly agrees,but remains somewhat mute, until Jaime takes the lead and echoes what she toldhim, emphasizing how she is now a successful songwriter. Mr. Tarly lives up toany negative expectation Jaime may have had of the guy, revealing himself asthe cock he took him to be. Brienne is utterly shocked that Jaime comes to her defenseand understands just how much it hurt her, since she is so used that men expecther to always be strong and tough when deep-down, she could use some support,too. But Jaime gets it – and gives it to her when she needs it most.

In the aftermath, the twofall into bed together, or rather, under the piano, no longer able to denytheir burgeoning feelings for one another, no matter how dead Jaime’s plantsmay continue to be as a result of that union.

As things continue, Jaimealso finds himself opening up to her about how he ended up where he is now, howTyrion went behind his back to destroy his father’s company and that this wasthe reason why they broke up their partnership as fellow musicians and puttheir relationship as brothers on a hold.

Jaime admits he becamehesitant to compose, let alone write lyrics, after his injury, and after hissolo album flopped so badly that no one bought the last CD in the store downthe road for the past years – and he should know, he marked it. Jaime stuck toplaying the old songs because he doesn’t have to present anything new. Instead,he can just hit play button and make his audience happy.

It is Brienne who encourageshim to try again as a composer, to dare to be an artist again, after he came tobelieve that he never was one. After all, they will have to present somethingnew to Daenerys if they want to convince her. She also encourages him to takeadvantage of “the flaws” Jaime now finds in his music that come due to hisinjury, telling him that this is what she aimed at when she unsuccessfullypublished her own book as a struggle against Mr. Tarly that sadly failed, towrite flawed characters, and cherish their imperfections.  

“That’s what makes theminteresting. That’s what makes them unique. And that is what makes your musicunique, too. I think you have to dare to tell your own story, because there issurely a lot to tell. But for that… you have to dare.”

The two make it at the verylast minute to deliver a decent song, and at last they meet the starletDaenerys Targaryen. While she likes the song and agrees to go with it, shedemands that they compose another verse.

As the two continue to worktowards the new deadline, they enjoy their blooming romance, but drama is justaround the corner when Jaime finally meets Daenerys’s manager – namely hisformer manager, Tyrion.

The younger man actuallypushed some buttons to get Jaime on Daenerys’s list because he hoped to takethat as a starting point to renew their relationship, but Jaime feels all themore betrayed because he does not need his brother’s pity.

“You made clear that youthink I don’t have talent, but if you think that pitching me as a partner foryour client only just to get closer to me again, then you are perhaps not thebest manager after all.”

“I am honest about this.”

“You knew that I was andwon’t ever be a gifted songwriter. That was always you, not me. So why assignme to a task involving such to repair our relationship? Why embarrass me likethat?”

“Because I… I was wrong andwanted to show you that you were never without talent. It’s something I saidout of anger, to piss you off. And I stopped writing songs long time ago.Daenerys writes her own. I am just… a shitty manager, it appears.”

“Well, I don’t need yourpity points. I managed without you, even after you abandoned me.”

Jaime feels like cancellingthe entire plan for a while, and is surprised when Brienne isn’t in the leastmad at him but shows understanding for his situation, actually supporting himwhatever decision he may make. While she insists that she believes what theycreated thus far is better than just “pity points,” she will respect hisdecision, so long he commits to it. Jaime eventually agrees to carry on and thetwo get back on track to finish the last verse.

They are invited to seeDaenerys before the deadline, who says she did some adaptations to the songsshe would want them to hear, but neither one can say they are particularlyimpressed.

“I believe this is thesound of a Dothraki wedding, and those are scary as hell, involve sex andpotentially murder,” Jaime whispers at Brienne, though he won’t say so out loudwhen Daenerys wants to hear their opinion, declaring how proud she is of theproduct since it is a way for her to “honor” her “heritage.”

Brienne wants to tell herthat she finds the song horrid, but Jaime prevents her from it, something thatupsets her very much since Brienne always lives by the paradigm of honestyforemost. However, Jaime says that she asked him to commit, and he committed tohave that album produced.

“If we tell her that thisis shit, I will get fired and we end up with nothing. Then all of this will befor nothing.”

“You wanted to call it off before!”

“Because of my brother. Thatwas something entirely different.”

“And not because theproduct is bad? I thought you wanted to finally become an artist in your ownright.”

“Well, maybe that’s just asfar as I will ever get. Ever crossed your mind? I also have to pay a rent, youknow? And who knows, maybe other arrangements will follow after I get my footback into the door of the industry. You told me I should stop standing still,and now you tell me to do just that. You have to make up your mind at somepoint.”

“You are craven.”

“Well, that’s rich comingfrom a woman who spent her entire career in hiding. First under Renly, thenunder Cat. You could be so much more if you finally stopped tailing afterpeople who treat you with no more than basic human decency. You knew Renlywouldn’t love you back, and yet you stayed. Why? Because you hide away as muchas I do. Because you are afraid of actually… being in love.”

“I did love him. What are you saying?”

“You loved him because itwas safe from a distance. You had some bad experiences with those guys, but notall are like that. You hide away from love because you are afraid of people’simperfections. Because no one will ever match those knights you write about. Becauseyes, I read your book. I bought it like you bought my last CD.”

Brienne is all the moreshocked, not having anticipated that suddenly, this conversation would be aboutthem as a couple the same way it is about them as partners in the production ofthis song.

“You told me you embracedthose flawed characters. I read every single page. That guy? He is bloody wellall that you thought Renly was to you. Flawed characters don’t have happyending stories, Brienne. They don’t realize how wrong they were all along andfinally go for the girl who’s hidden in the shadows. They make mistakes, a lotof them. They sometimes love so much that it hurts. You are in love with afantasy of what love is, but you wouldn’t know what it is if it bit you in the arsebecause you can’t even bring yourself to love yourself despite or ratherbecause of your flaws. So really, get off your high horse and stop blaming mefor not living up to the fantasy of a man you will never meet because he is notreal. This industry is no fairytale, we are no characters in this fairytale. Thereality is that I am trying my best, but if that is not good enough for you,then maybe you should see whether your expectations, in any way, match realityof… life, not fiction.”

“Why are you saying that?”

“Because I am not Renly.Because I am no knight in shining armor. I am a failed musician who is holdingon to his career by a single thread who listened to you and now is getting shitfrom you because he is doing just what you told him to do.”

“I told you to commit.”

“And I commit to my career.”

“You commit to thisbullshit she calls a song.”

“Because that is thebusiness.”

“Which is why I can’t everbe a songwriter, I fear.”

“I fear so, too. Because theenvironment wherein you can live and never eat some crow along the way, acceptsome missteps, is, in fact… nothing but fiction.”

Brienne storms out afterthat, leaving Jaime to finish the verse by himself, even though that provesnearly impossible, considering that all he can think about is Brienne. To hissurprise, Brienne forwards the last verse to Daenerys to save his career, whichmakes him feel doubly bad for how they parted and what he said to her. However,it may be true that their fantasy is over and they played their final song.

Or maybe not?

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #230

“this is where i wanna grow old, so i’m just praying i don’t make parole.”

Has a movie ever made you cry? Yeup. Do you smile open-mouthed or closed-mouthed? Usually open. I look higher with my mouth closed, lol. What gaming systems do you own? A PS2, Wii, gaming laptop, DS Lite, and a GameBoy Advance. Do you know anyone else with your last name other than family? Not off the top of my head. Is your favorite band still together? Yeah. Any movies your looking forward to seeing? I want to see both Joker and IT: Chapter II. Where do you see most of your concerts? Only been to one, which was in Raleigh. Have you ever had escargot? No, I NEVER will. Do you like chocolate popsicles? Hell yeah. Do you save seats for your friends in class? I don't have real friends at college yet, just like a couple acquaintances. Back in high school and younger, I did occasionally with my purse or something. Depended on where we were. How many people do you know with red hair? I don't care enough to count, honestly. Three off the very top of my head. Have you ever wondered what you look like when you’re sleeping? Yeah. Are your parents proud of you? I mean they say so, but I doubt it a lot. Would you ever be your schools mascot who wears that costume? NO. Those sound so gross and hot. Have you ever had a pet fish? Multiple. What age did you start staying home alone? Idr. Would you rather see the Great Wall of China or Big Ben? Big Ben appeals to me more, but the Great Wall would probably impress me more. Can you do a handstand? Nope. What’s a brand of shoe you like, but wouldn’t buy a pair? I like studded and spiked high heels like, A LOT. Are you reading any books right now? Not currently. Sara sent me the first Wings of Fire book because I'm interested in reading it, I just normally read at school when I have no work to do, and for a looooong while now I have always been busy doing schoolwork while I wait in the library for Mom to finish her classes. Any plans for tomorrow? No. Who did you last take a picture with? My kitty. How do you like your chicken? Breaded, typically. Like as nuggets and such. What’s your favorite fast food restaurant? Sonic. What song are you listening to? I've been binging the "I Don't Wanna Be Free" song from AHWM since it came out man. It's not even biased, Mark's voice has just gotten so fucking GOOD and I'm so proud and in love- Do you have any bruises? No. What’s the last thing you googled? How to make a rounded border of a square in Photoshop bc I forgot while making stuff for Sara. How often do you use a real dictionary? Never. They're pretty much obsolete. When you were little did your mom ever sing to you? Yeah. What’s the reason you last laughed really hard? Um idr. Who do you sit with at lunch? I don't go to the school cafe, so. How long have your parents been together? They were together like... I wanna say 18 years? Somewhere around 20. What’s your favorite kind of Gatorade? EW none. Out of all your friends, whose house have you stayed at the most? I really don't have any current friends whose houses I've gone to. So Sara, if you count her. Who is one person you couldn’t imagine life without? My mom. The idea of her dying is fucking terrifying beyond possible words for me. What’s your favorite Disney movie? The Lion King. Are you camera shy? Yes bc I hate my body. Just let me be behind it. Are you politically correct? It really depends on what the subject is. We've become too politically "correct" if you ask me. I'd honestly say I'm mostly not. Eh, idk. Again, it depends. Speaking of politics, do they tend to overexcite you? Quite the opposite, they bore the hell out of me. Are your parents Democratic, Republican, or neither? I'm quite sure Dad is a Republican, but I'm really not sure; Mom, meanwhile, I think she leans more towards Democrat, but fits the "Independent" title well. My stepmother is ANNOYINGLY far-right. I almost regret adding her on FB. What’s the worst household chore? When you don't have a dishwasher, hand-washing dishes. I fucking hate it. Do you get along better with boys or girls, and why? I only say girls because I'm afraid of men. I can befriend a man perfectly fine, just I am going to be VERY paranoid and anxious in the early stages of knowing him. Do you love dreaming? Honestly, I'd almost prefer not to dream, I think. I barely remember mine anyways, and I like the feeling of waking up after a DEEP sleep. Maaaany of my dreams/nightmares involve Jason anyway, so I'd just rather not deal with 'em. Do you have any conditions that you need medication for? I refuse to come off my bipolarity medications. They're the reason I'm not a suicidal tragedy anymore. I could survive without my anxiety meds, but I'd sure prefer not to. What’s a recurring theme in dreams? (I often dream about rollercoasters.) Most of my nightmares/terrors involve me getting into an altercation of some sort, and I'm always unable to defend myself. Should everybody have affordable health insurance? Fuck yes they should. You shouldn't have to go fucking bankrupt to stay alive, goddamn. This subject gets me heated as hell. Creation or evolution? Evolution. Do you have terrible memory? My memory is so incredibly bad I've had borderline anxiety attacks that I have early-onset dementia lmfao. What do you think is the most peaceful religion? I'm not knowledgeable enough on this, but off the top of my head, Buddhism? If you’re feeling frightened, what thoughts tend to comfort you? I am such a baby. It helps me in a lot of situations if my mom is with me. What year were you born in? 1996. What is the best decade for music? '80s, maybe. Or 2000s. Are you prejudiced against anybody? (Other races, gays, etc.) No. Are you a licensed driver? No, but I have my permit. I'm too scared and inexperienced to get my license because I'm too hesitant to drive enough. Do you have any regrets? Yeah. Is there anything you wish you could say to someone right now? I'm going to wish I could tell Jason I'm sorry 'til the day I die, probably. There's things I wanna tell Megan, Hannia... a few people. What time do you normally wake up? If I don't have my 8 AM class, it can range from like, 6-9 AM. Is there anyone not in life anymore, that you wish still was? Plenty of people. What’s your favorite type of bird? Barn owls. How many friends do you have on Facebook? 112. Have you ever gotten back together with an ex? No. How far away is the closest store to your house and what is it? Uhhhh. The actual town-town I live in is like three minutes away or so, so there's a large amount. I guess the closest is... a dollar store, probably? When was the last time you made out with somebody? A long time ago. What TV show(s) have you been watching currently? None. How many apps do you have on your phone? Just six, but I can't even update one because my phone has such little memory. What pet names do you use with your significant other? Besides the normal ones like "hunny" and stuff, "pretty woman" and then (THEY'RE JOKES/REFERENCES OK) "Bubblebutt" and "Candyass" lmfao. Do you have to wear a name badge where you work? N/A Do you have a dress code or have to wear a uniform where you work? N/A Have you ever dated a smoker? If not, would you? For less than a day. I wouldn't date one now, no. What is your mother’s first name? Donna. Do you share a middle name with any of your siblings? More like I share it with every white female on Earth. Have there ever been any bushfires/wildfires in your area? Small ones. How would you label your sexual orientation? Bisexual. Have you ever been a member in a band? No. What’s your favorite kind of accent? English. Do you have separate emails for personal and business? No. Well, I have a separate school email. Have you ever missed a flight? Yes. None of us anticipated the airport would take so long. Are you someone who always needs a coffee before you can function? No. Have you ever seen a lunar eclipse? Yes!! Do you know your significant other’s passwords? No, and I don't need to. I have a respect for privacy. What’s your favorite type of salad? Just lettuce with dressing, really. Cucumbers in there is okay, though. Lobster dip or crab dip? Ew. Do you shop at Goodwill? No. Do you make grocery lists? I don't do the grocery shopping, so. When is your next doctor’s appointment? I see my psychiatrist uhhh next week I think, then my main doctor is referring me to a dietitian per my request as of a couple days ago. Do you own a pair of feather earrings? No. Elephants or lions? Visually, lions, but as animals themselves, elephants. What color do you want to dye your hair next? Silver. Do you decorate for Easter? Not anymore, really. We don't decorate for almost anything at this point. Do you have a car? I don't have a license, so why even. Are you the same size you were ten years ago? Bitch I fuckin WISH. Do people mistake you for a teenager? No. Do you know what you want to do for your next birthday? Get a tattoo and have that gd heavenly drink Sara's dad made me once that Changed My Life. Do you know anyone who’s started a business and been successful? I have an old real photographer friend. Strawberry or watermelon? Strawberries. I'm actually not a big fan of watermelon; it's typically too bland to me. If it's sweet, then hell yeah. What new hobby are you thinking of starting? What's a "hobby." Were you ever a team captain of anything? No. Something I find boring is… TV, usually. If I could give my mother an award it would be for… Her dedication and hard work that's probably unmatched. The most memorable costume I’ve worn is… Idr. My personal hero is… Mark. M-A-R-K. Mark. Markiplier. Fischfuck. Have you heard of Mark Fischbach? An author whose work changed my life is… None. Are you happy with yourself on the outside? (explain) No, but just because I'm overweight. Otherwise, I guess I'd be. Are you happy with yourself on the inside? (explain) Mostly, at least. There're things I hate, things I want to change, all that. Do you take responsibility for your actions? Yes. Do you treat yourself well? Eh. Is there something nobody knows about you (& what)? Yeah, and I'd prefer for it to stay that way. If in a relationship, do you feel you could "do better"? No. Feel like I don't deserve her half the time. Do you have any mental disorders? lol Have you ever stolen from a friend or family member? Wow, no. Money or love? Love. Have you done anything to make someone dislike you (& what)? Not on purpose. Multiple things. Mostly making ridiculous opinions I've had in the past known. Would/did you cheat on someone for revenge? Or if they wouldn’t find out? No and no. Would you rather be remembered for something bad or forgotten? Forgotten. Do you boss around your friends, or give in to what they want to do? The latter by far. Do you donate or volunteer as much as you could? I don't have money to donate. I don't have transportation or time for volunteering. Do you believe in a god (& why or why not)? Yeah, 'cuz the Big Bang Theory just doesn't make sense to me. Compacted nothing exploding into everything. But by this point in my life, I really don't care if there is or isn't. Are you spoiled? No. How do you ease anxiety? Deep breathing, music, talking to Mom or Sara... Do you avoid physically unattractive people, even before knowing them? Oh my god. Does your family have a secret? No. If single, would you knowingly be who someone cheats on someone else with? NO. NO. THE GUILT WOULD BE FUCKING ASTRONOMICAL. Choose one living person you’d like to meet. hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm oh y'know I don't have a clue it's not like I love one (1) male homosapien- Are you over-protective of anyone? Maybe Sara. I'm not sure if it reaches the "over" level. What do you think of the name Xiomara (zeo-marah)? Cool as hell, man. Who did you receive your latest notification from? On Facebook? Uhhhhh *checks* my childhood babysitter liked something. How do you know the last person you were in a car with? I came out of her lmao so I mean- Do you support PETA? They are WAY too extreme. Do you honestly hate anyone? My old doctor that fucking destroyed my body. Do you go to church? No. Have you ever been depressed? I've had chronic depression since the 7th grade, so- Or are you a generally happy person? I'm usually just content. Do you think you are a good friend? Yeah. Usually. What is your usual username on sites? "Ozzkat" (rarely with a "0" if it's somehow taken) almost everywhere. Celeb crush? HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM Non celeb crush? My girlfriend. /v\ Bad habit you are trying to fix? Procrastinating on homework las;djfa;weiraweawer Would you rather go to school or have a job? I'd rather have a goddamn job that I can actually do and enjoy. What is your major? Organismal biology. Favorite cookie? Chocolate chip. Favorite flavor? Strawberry, chocolate... depends on what we're talkin' about. Candles or incense? INCENSE. Would you ever have an abortion? Probably if I was raped. Idk. What do you want for your birthday from your bf or gf? It'd be amazing if she could be here. Favorite flavor of milk? Chocolate. Something you like to do alone? Watch YouTube, draw, write. Something you like doing with friends? Vidya games, go out to see a movie or bowl or something, just hang out and chat. Thick or thin blanket? T H I C C Do you walk around barefoot in your house? Who wears shoes in their house????? tf??????????? u ok?????????????? Do you have a ring on your ring finger? No. Do you know how to type home row? Yeah, that's how I type.

[drunkdragondoes]

Songbird

It comes and goes like winter snows Fierce and fleeting, never quiet It always shows Your love is nothing if not cold Unforgettable

It was from an old song, a remake of the original. The lyrics were tacky, even for the time period that it was from.

You’re distant ‘til you’re here The breath of a coming storm And that’s all I want from you It’s the norm I just can’t let you go

And yet there was something in the words, in the way the piano softly played in the background. The original piece was accompanied by string instruments, as was common at the time, and it seemed to try and sound mournful. But now it was more of a person’s musings, as if lovestruck.

And when I feel your chill My body shakes It’s the storm, the surge My nerves lay still I’m ruined by you

The singer’s interpretation was, for better or for worse, good.

General Ironwood paused the meeting. “Are you still with me, Winter?”

Her eyes scrunched together. The earlier-than-usual morning was still taking its toll upon her. Cooped up in the basement of an ‘abandoned’ office building, the sterile white walls and fluorescent lights were harsh upon her blue eyes. She might have had her morning coffee already, but that didn’t meant it was working its magic yet. “I was rushed over at your request, sir. I suppose I’m still a bit tired from the trip over. Continue please.”

The old general leveled his eyes with her before giving a nod. “This is Qrow Branwen. I won’t wax poetic on his history - you’ve been with us long enough to know that anyone we bring up is under suspicion of not being fully human.” He pressed a button, and an image slowly sharpened onto a projector screen, revealing a man that looked to be in his early to mid forties. Dark hair, graying just at the sides, and a bit of a stubble, he matched the imagery of a man that could be just charming enough to get away with something.

“The case with him, though, is unusual. Most of the time, we function as quiet observers. The non-humans know of our existence and we don’t need to do any policing. However, he reached out to us for protection services.” The screen changed, this time revealing him at events in a black tuxedo, sometimes with another person, but usually alone. “And while we normally wouldn’t act in this situation, Branwen is a rising musician celebrity in our world. A lot of eyes are watching him, so our hand might be forced here. In addition, he’s offered a payment for our services, which includes a hefty advance if we take on the task. Any questions so far?”

Her lips pursed together, teeth raking across the top behind it. Asking for protection was not uncommon, and it was often turned down. They were observers and keepers of peace after all, not a task force. “There has to be more behind this. We wouldn’t be taking on a simple protection job without a good reason.”

The soft hum of magical gears and rotors spinning and humming to the rise and fall of his chest. “You’re right.” He looked her in the eye. “We’re taking on this case because Branwen implicated that he is a siren.”

She blinked. “A what?”

“A siren.” The screen changed again, this time portraying a series of pottery and art from older civilizations. “Greek and Roman mythology were among the first to describe these creatures, though facts often vary between the sources. Some depict them as similar to mermaids, others as avian amalgamations. And while most pieces depicted them as both male and female, over time it has portrayed them as female.”

“And he’s claiming that they exist and he’s one.” She found herself staring at the screen again.

“Indeed. In the end, we don’t know much about them, and if they’ve been this secretive about their existence, who knows how long they have been in the background.” Ironwood took a deep breath. “And that brings us to why we brought you in on such short notice. This is our potential first contact with a siren, and we want you to facilitate the relationship, maybe even make an ally out of him. Who knows how his powers could benefit us, after all.”

“And do we have any grounds to believe what he says?” she said, keeping her eyes on his pictures, looking for any unusual tells that would give himself away.

Nothing.

“There isn’t much outside of his word.” Ironwood clicked over to the next slide, leading to pictures of him singing in concerts and events. “But given his public profile as a rising singer, there’s reason to believe him.”

“How do we know it’s not a trap?”

A long breath. “We don’t. We staked out his apartment-” the screen switched to reveal a posh building, “and so far nothing unusual. Unless we use more invasive techniques, we can’t pick out anything else for now.”

Familiar words, but it came with the business. With one last blink, she rose from her seat. “I’ll get started then.”

Ironwood nodded before standing up as well. “His request seemed urgent, so you’ll be flying out late tonight. When you arrive in Vale, you’ll be checking in at the branch to pick up a body monitor before heading over to arrive at thirteen hundred hours local time. He knows we’re coming, so he should be expecting you.”

“Understood.”

He looked her in the eye. “And remember, Winter, werewolves might be a dime a dozen and we’re long past the age of shipwrecks. But if there’s one thing to be aware of, it's that sirens are born to sing. Be careful.”

“I mean, he even told me he was expecting someone, and here you are, at the time he told me, so-”

Even though it was a redeye flight, taking off at three in the morning, it was impossible for her to sleep. The seat was uncomfortable, and sleeping upright was never easy to begin with. And once she touched down in Vale, it was business as usual. Check in with headquarters and get her body monitor, check into her cheap hotel. Sit in a car for half an hour to go ten miles.

“Sometimes I think he does this on purpose, but don’t tell him I said that.”

Walk into an apartment complex, and suffer through the unlucky attendant’s third attempt page his apartment.

Nothing.

“Come on, pick up.”

Winter sighed, taking a moment to rub her eye. This was taking too long. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll see if I can get in contact with my agency and get them to reach out to Branwen. Thank you, though.”

With a little more than a nod, she left the front doors of the lobby. Making her way out of the complex, her eyes scanned for any security cameras or staff. Once she made sure that she was out of sight, she began to let her magic work. She could feel her body shifting, becoming as light as air and blue like the sky.

With a tiny flash, she was gone, traversing through walls and floors until she was sure she was at the right one. Sensing that no one was by, she let the spell fall away, her body rematerializing in the posh hallway lights and at his apartment door. Her hand slipped into her coat, and she turned on her body monitor. “I’m in, commencing rendezvous.”

A tiny voice fed into her ear confirming that they got her message, and she was alone again. With a heavy blink of her eyes, she rang the doorbell in front of her.

Nothing. Again. Winter didn’t even hear a tone on the other end. For all she knew, the button could have been broken. And with a few more presses in vain, it might as well be.

No matter. Blinking her eyes and doing her best to ignore the scratch of sleep, she let herself slip through the cracks of the doorway again. Instead of letting herself shift back, however, she remained in her wispy, ethereal state. No one would be able to see her like this, so some recon of her own sounded appropriate.

So far, the grandiose apartment seemed silent. But if she strained her ears, there was something soft in the air, striking through at odd, unusual intervals. Simple. Elegant. And maybe another word she couldn’t think of at the time being.

Might as well take a peak. She drifted through the air, going through the few short halls to encounter a wide open area. One side was a television, two couches posed like an L, and a coffee table. To the other side was a piano, and at its front was the man she saw on the slides - dark hair, sharp red eyes. Qrow Branwen.

\As he played, fingering each key until they became a cohesive rhythm and tune, his lone humming echoed with the chords. Sometimes he would pause, but just as quickly he would pick up again. The tune might change, the keys might alter, but the tones of his unsung piece remained the same.

Winter didn’t really understand it. Music was taught to her at a young age, but now it was just a bygone afterthought. She couldn’t find the C key for the life of her, and she didn’t bother trying to stay in tune when following her favorite piece on the radio.

In fact, she didn’t remember much of it at all. Couldn’t remember the instrument she tried to pick up as a part of her class.

Another sharp blink, another breath, another step closer, Winter’s shoes gently clacking against the floor. Blink. Again. The jet lag must have been catching up to her. Shaking her head, she tried to focus on Qrow, but the only thing that seemed to register was his humming.

Her foot moved towards him, and her gaze drooped down. She was by the couch. For whatever reason, he started playing in earnest, his hums becoming more and more intense. Maybe this was why he wasn’t answering when the front desk paged him. He was too busy at work.

Surely he wouldn’t mind if she took a seat. She was a guest and they were supposed to have a meeting after all. Yes. Yes, that would be fine. He would stop, and they would talk and figure out this business.

Stay. Take a seat. Get comfortable.

Stay. Listen.

Rest. Enjoy.

Another soft hum.

Sleep.

When Winter first came to, she didn’t snap into action. Even though she was in an unfamiliar place at an unknown time, something felt peaceful. Whatever she was on was soft, softer than the bed she had at her own apartment halfway across the continent. Same with the blanket - warm and comforting. Safe.

Her immediate choice was to tuck the blankets around her again, roll over, and go back to sleep. Return to the land of warm and soft.

One tiny thing broke the spell, however.

“Arf!”

She felt her eyes snap open, and everything was wrong. This wasn’t her apartment. This wasn’t her blanket. This wasn’t her couch.

(In fact, Winter didn’t even have a couch.)

Quickly rolling over, she came face to face with a black and white dog - some kind of corgi.

“Arf!”

If there was one thing she knew she didn't have, it was a dog.

And to make matters worse, a pair of hands entered her vision to set down a plate of cookies and a glass of milk.

This was really bad.

“Courtesy of my nieces, and an apology of sorts for missing our meeting.” Her eyes traveled up the arms and settled onto his sharp red eyes. “I got carried away with my work and, well, I guess it might have carried you in as well.”

It was like being caught red-handed. She tried to hide her embarrassment long enough to figure out a way to venture forth into the conversation, “Qrow Branwen, then, I assume?”

“That’s me,” his eyes scanned over her briefly, and despite the blanket around her she felt painfully naked, worsening the heat on her cheeks. “I’d shake your hand, but, well…”

She gave a huff. Might as well take the out he gave her. Slipping her arm over the blanket, she extended her hand. “Winter Schnee, Officer and Specialist of the Protectorate.”

A/N: Eyyo! Finally got this little bit ironed out. There might be more, there might not. I still have 2.59 and Summoner AU, after all. But hey - at least there is some more Qrowin in this world :3