#he only learned about it from his spies anyway and the spies did NOT know him & lavellan were fucking so THEY didn't know either

[attractthecrows]

Papae Solas is incredible conceptwise, but as an angst demon, I MUST make it a torment. its like my only biological imperative is to make things much much worse. anyway wouldn't it be fucked up if the timing of their breakup was juuust so, that he didn't even KNOW there was a child. Like it's not like Lavellan would be taking a toddler along with the party during Trespasser. If they broke up RIGHT BEFORE the final fight with Corypheus, then it's entirely possible neither of them would have known when Solas disappeared. It's not like Lavellan could track him down. Fuck, if they're bitter about it they might not even want to. it could cause so much fucking drama and problems i cant stop thinking about it

[cressidagrey]

Stars all aligned - Chapter 1

Summary:

If there was one thing that both Azriel and Zahra Archeron had in common, it was that they were both very good at blending into the background.

They just never thought that their family were going to be the ones who never saw them at all.

Warning:

Bashing of like...every IC member? I think Rhys gets the worst though, definitely disordered eating, kinda depression?, isolation

(Lovely dividers thanks to @sweetmelodygraphics)

He found her deep inside the House of Wind. Far enough from the festivities of Starfall that it was startling to find her.

The second oldest Archeron Sister must have wandered off just like he had.

“Why aren’t you dancing?” Azriel asked her as he spied her sitting in a puddle of her skirts on one of the couches, staring at the empty fireplace.

“Why aren’t you?” Zahra gave back drily, not even looking up at him.

What exactly was he supposed to answer to that? Oh, I can't stomach watching your sister dance with her mate? And even if I could stomach that, Rhys's mental commentary to him about it had turned his stomach. Even when Azriel had kept away from Elain just like Rhysand had ordered him to do, ever since last year. So really...what was he supposed to answer?

“Dancing isn’t exactly my favourite activity,” Azriel finally replied. It wasn’t a lie. 

"Yeah, well, mine neither," she answered with a shrug. "Not that I ever learned."

"You never learned?" he asked surprised. Nesta had learned. Elain had learned.

"Bastard, remember?" Zahra said drily. "I am lucky that I got to learn how to read and write and do basic math. I was not going to be molded into a perfect lady, because no self-respecting man would marry me anyway."

The blunt way Zahra was talking stunned Azriel momentarily. There was something harsh, something almost...bitter and resentful in her voice as she spoke.

It seemed like it didn't matter if one was born a bastard in Illyria or the Human lands. It was horrible either way.

"Your sisters will miss you," he said instead quietly. "And you'll miss the spectacle."

"I don't really care for the festivities," she said with another shrug. "I don’t like the holidays. Humans don’t have any. We… they are too busy trying to survive," Zahra corrected herself quietly. "And besides, I am only here anyway so I don't end up being an indentured servant until some of you decide that I am back in your good graces,” she gave back caustically.

He grimaced. That Zahra had vehemently disagreed about their treatment of Nesta was well known.

It had surprised him too because it was just as just as well known that Nesta seemed to not care for her half-sister on a good day. They weren't particularly close, in any way, shape or form.

Something in his chest clenched painfully. Not from the insult she threw in his direction, but from the defeated way she said it. That she thought that they would just…toss her aside like that.

She was one of them.

"We won't," he said firmly. Her eyes slowly turned toward him and there were dark shadows in those eyes. Out of all the Archeron Sisters, she was the only one with green eyes. Azriel wondered if she had inherited them from her late mother.

Zahra was only the half-sister after all. The result of her father’s dalliance with a maid. Her age put her somewhere between Nesta and Elain. 

It was easy enough to pick out the differences between Nesta, Elain and Feyre and Zahra. Dark hair similar to Elain’s, but green eyes. Skin a few shades darker than any of theirs. Lips that looked like Feyre’s but a nose that looked like none of her sisters. 

Zahra seemed to belong but didn’t. 

And right now, these green eyes…something was wrong. Something was off with these eyes. 

"You don’t know that," she said with a humourless laugh. "Do you want to lie to me too, and  tell me that Rhysand has nothing to do with whatever happened between Elain and you?"

Azriel stiffened, a low sound escaping his throat. She knew. She knew.

"How did you-" he croaked hoarsely and Zahra cocked an eyebrow at him.

 "Do you really think that I hadn't noticed the two of you dancing around each other for months? Or the fact that you two can barely manage to be in the same room together?" she asked dryly and Azriel averted his gaze.  "There is no one as beautiful and kind as my sister," Zahra said drily. "I don't fault you for falling for her."

Azriel said nothing, the pain in his chest growing at her words. The pain...and the bitter realization that his feelings were not as well-hidden as he had thought they were. 

"It doesn't matter," he said quietly. "She has a mate. She deserves better than me anyway."

"Did Rhysand tell you that too?" Zahra said drily. "You never tried to hide the fact that your mate was dying from the same, so you have that on him."

Azriel gritted his teeth, the pain in his chest becoming almost unbearable. "It doesn’t matter," he repeated firmly, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. "Elain is happy. I would do nothing to put that in danger." 

"Yes, she is," Zahra agreed. "For what it's worth, I am sorry," she apologised to him, her voice honest.

Azriel swallowed, the pain in his chest lessening only to be replaced by something else. Something...much more complicated. Something like…pity.

He pitied her. This young female was so full of bitterness. He couldn’t even fault her for it either. She had been just a bastard. Even when they had first met the Archeron Sisters…Zahra had been working in the household as a maid. Half employee, half part of the family. Like their father couldn’t make up his mind what he should do with his bastard daughter. 

"You don't have anything to apologise for," Azriel finally told her quietly. "Do you really not want to watch?" he asked her. "You are supposed to wish for something when you see the stars fall."

She snorted, the sound bitter. "What I want, I am never going to get," Zahra said, her voice brittle.

He took her in in more detail at that moment.

The simple green gown she wore, high necked and long sleeved...that long gown that did little to hide how thing she was. The dark brown hair, pulled into a braid, obviously trying to hide the pointed tips of her ears and failing...the way her skin, darker than all of her sisters, was nearly ashen.

They had all thought that she was doing well. That Zahra at least was adjusting well.

But she wasn't. She wasn’t doing better.  She hadn't adjusted. Azriel would bet anything that all she wanted in her life was to be human again.

She hadn't adjusted. She just acted in a way that didn't bother anybody, that didn’t spell trouble for anybody.  Zahra had gotten herself a job, managing the accounting at an apothecary in the city.  She had gotten herself a little cottage to rent. She didn’t go out and get drunk. She didn’t use any money from Rhys or Feyre. She showed up for family dinners, staying quiet and polite. 

And if she was miserable…well, then nobody cared, because she didn’t bother anybody. Azriel could understand that. The same was the case for him.

Azriel clenched his jaw, watching her quietly sitting here. The way she was trying to hide away. The dress that was more like a potato sack than anything else. The way her skin was almost...grey. That bitter voice. 

The shadows were stirring and he was unable to look away from her. She looks upset, Master, they told him helpfully. 

"Do you want to go home?" Azriel offered quietly. Home to her cottage? Maybe some peace and quiet would make her feel better. 

Zahra shrugged, not looking at him. Not giving him an inch. That wall of bitterness and sarcasm was so firmly in place, that it was practically a solid wall between them. 

“Don’t want to end like an indentured servant, remember?“ she quipped drily.

“You won’t,“ Azriel said evenly. “You had a headache. I brought you home.“

She still didn’t look at him, her hands tightly knotted into her skirts as she sat there. She was so thin, almost fragile-looking. Her skin was sickly grey. “Come on,” he said finally, walking towards her.

Zahra finally looked up at him. Those green eyes. A bitter and lonely light in them. “What are you doing?“ she muttered. 

“I’m bringing you home,” he said simply, holding out his hand. “Come on, get up.“

Zahra looked at his hand, her gaze wary. “Why?“ she asked quietly. 

“Because you look like you are about to keel over,” he said, more bluntly than intended. 

“Gee, thanks,” she said dryly, her voice sarcastic and bitter. But she placed her hand into his own and let him pull her to her feet, even though he could feel the tension in her entire body. 

Azriel wrapped his arm around her shoulders, steadying her. “Come on. Let’s get you home and into bed,” he said firmly. 

He led her towards the balcony, the last few streaks of light painting the sky, and he grasped her tightly as they shout these few feet into the air until he could winnow to the cottage she rented. 

It’s ugly, the shadows complained. 

He had to agree with them. The cottage was an ugly little thing. Plain. Small. The type of thing that was more of a hovel in the outskirts, rather than anything else. 

“Home sweet home,“ Zahra said dryly, pulling away from him and a key out of her purse. 

That cottage was in serious need of some renovations when the red paint that was flaking off the door was anything to go by. 

As she unlocked the door it became obvious that while she kept it clean and neat.. even that couldn’t help much. This is a hovel, the shadows hissed.

Azriel was inclined to agree. He looked around with a frown, as the shadows scuttered around the tiny cottage. “You live here?“ he couldn’t help but ask. It was a terrible hovel indeed. 

Zahra shrugged as if she didn’t notice the disgust in his voice. “I couldn’t exactly afford anything else at first,” she said drily. 

At least not without taking any money from Rhys and Feyre, and clearly that was nothing that Zahra wanted to do. 

He was struck by how empty it all looked. There was a small kitchen space, a table with a few chairs a fireplace… And the door that led to her bedroom, he assumed. 

“How long have you lived here?“ he asked carefully, taking in the bare emptiness. There were no pictures on the walls. No trinkets and little belongings anywhere. It was…lifeless. She shrugged again and kicked off her shoes, making her way towards the bedroom. “A year?“

The room was equally simple and bare. A bed, a few clothes. A little bathing chamber. That was it. 

“You’ve lived here for over a year?“ Azriel repeated, his voice turning sharp as he looked at everything. There wasn’t even a mirror on the wall. 

When she just shrugged again, he was done. He grabbed her arm and towed her back into the main room. “Stay,” he ordered, pointing at the table and one of the two rickety chairs. 

“What are you doing?“ Zahra asked, raising both eyebrows at him. Her irritation had started to rise considerably. At least that had done something to the sickly colour of her skin. 

“Making sure you eat something before you pass out on me,” Azriel muttered, turning back into the kitchen area, looking around with a frown.

There was…nothing. His shadows reported as much. She literally had a few pieces of bread and some cheese in the whole house. He was more than fuming. That was not enough that she was living in…this hovel, she was apparently also starving herself.

He pointed at the chair again. “Sit,” he ordered a little sharper than he had intended. 

The glare she gave him did not surprise him. Zahra hated being ordered around. “No,” she said firmly, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “I’m not hungry.“

Azriel clenched his jaw, the anger flaring. How stubborn could she be? 

“You clearly haven’t eaten in days,” he said, pointing out the obvious. “You have nothing in your house to eat.” 

“I have what I need,” she retorted, her own anger flaring. Azriel gritted his teeth, the urge to snap at her almost overwhelming.

“You are skin and bones,” he hissed. “There is barely enough fat on you to keep out the cold.“ 

“Why do you care?“ she snapped right back.

The question hit him squarely in the chest. Why did he care? Why, he asked himself for a moment. Why indeed.

He wasn’t going to lie to himself and say that it was just because she was Feyre’s sister. 

Thankfully, Azriel was saved from actually having to answer, when her stomach grumbled.

Loudly. Azriel almost chuckled at the sound of her own stomach betraying just how hungry she really was. “Clearly your body disagrees with you,” he said drily. 

“Shut up,” Zahra snapped, her skin flushing at the sound of her own stomach. 

“I will shut up after you’ve eaten something,” Azriel said firmly, folding his arms across his chest.

Zahra gave him a glare that could strip the paint from the walls, (but then, the paint was already flaking off anyway). Still, she grudgingly sank down on the chair, her eyes avoiding his. 

He turned back into the kitchen, opening cupboards and drawers and found absolutely nothing. There was nothing. Not even some fruits or vegetables. 

He slammed the last cupboard closed, almost causing the hinges to break, the anger flaring hotly in his chest. That stupid, stubborn, stubborn woman.

“I will personally come here every day and stuff you full until you burst,” he snapped before he could stop himself.

“Why?” she asked and he could hear the challenge in her voice. Her own anger rose to meet his own. “Why would you even bother?“ 

“Because you are starving yourself,” he said, spinning around to face her. “Because you are so thin, I could snap you in half with one hand. Because I’m pretty damn sure you haven’t eaten a proper meal in at least a year. That’s why.“

“Maybe I don’t deserve a proper meal,” she shot back and something inside of him snapped at the tone in her voice. 

Because he knew that feeling. He knew. For just a moment he froze. They were far more similar than they should be. 

It was a terrible realization. He knew what the self-hatred and bitterness was like. He understood it far better than he wanted to.

“Nobody is going to suddenly show up and care,” he told her quietly. He saw her eyes flare at the words and he knew she got the meaning behind them instantly.

She sat there, her jaw tensed. “And what do you know about it?” she snapped, her voice bitter. 

“I know what it feels like to starve oneself,” he said calmly. “I know what it feels like to have not a single person notice or care.“

The words rang truer than they should. Her eyes widened for a moment, shock flashing through her. 

“I know what it feels like to be the one be always at the edge of the family. I know what it feels like for everybody around me to meet their mate but not me.“

The words slipped out before he could stop them. The pain he had buried so deep, deep down flaring up. The pain and loneliness and bitter realization that would never have what everyone else had.

He realized only then how much they really had in common. How similar they were. 

“I know what it feels like to be the afterthought,” he continued, unable to stop now. “I know how it feels to be shoved aside. I know how it feels to watch everyone around me find someone while I’m the one left behind.“ 

He took a step closer to where she was sitting, towering over her. “And I know how it feels to hate myself enough to deny myself the basic needs I actually have.“ 

The last words made her flinch. He was so close he could almost see the pain and guilt and bitter realization flit across her face. Her eyes were on her lap, her fingers wrapped around the edge of the table. 

“I know what it feels like to feel as if I don’t deserve to eat,” he said quietly. “Because I’m not good enough. Not worthy enough. Not deserving enough.“

He knelt down in front of her, forcing her to look at him. To meet his eyes. 

She tried to look away, but he wouldn’t let her. He wanted her to see. To understand that she wasn’t as alone as she thought. “I know what it feels like to punish myself by not giving myself what I actually need,” he said quietly. 

Her breath hitched at the last words, her eyes widening ever so slightly. She was listening. Really listening to what he said.

“You’re not the only one who hates yourself, you know,” he said quietly. The look in her eyes shattered him. The look of realisation. Of bitter understanding. The realization that they were so much more similar than either of them had thought before.

Zahra bit her lip, the guilt flashing across her face. Her hands started trembling, ever so slightly.

“You don’t deserve to go hungry,” he said quietly, his voice firm and quiet. “You don’t deserve to starve yourself. You don’t deserve to live in this… hovel.

“The cauldron should just have killed me,” Zara said her voice brittle. “I don’t like this life.”

And didn’t that break his fucking heart? 

She laughed bitterly, but there was no humour in it. “I’m not even surviving,” she said, a bitter smile on her thin lips. “I’m existing. There is a difference.“ 

The words hit him hard. She was right. She didn’t survive, she just existed. There was a difference and a huge one at that. “Then stop just existing,” he said quietly.

His hand was still cupping her cheek, his thumb stroking gently over her skin. 

“Says the guy that just keeps moping around,” she quipped.

It was a low blow but also true. Azriel’s jaw tensed at the comment. “I don’t mope,” he bit. “I just..“

He didn’t really have a good argument in his defence at the moment. 

He sighed. “We should both stop rotting away,” he said drily.

“Yeah, well, that’s easy to you to say,” Zahra said and he could hear the bitterness in her voice. 

“Eat your cheese,” he responded.

She rolled her eyes and snatched away the slice of cheese off the table. “Happy now?“ she muttered. 

“Delighted,” he gave back drily, as he moved towards her fireplace.

“You don’t need to do that,” Zahra said quietly. “I can do that.”

“Considering you’ve been too starved to think straight, you are going to let me do this,” Azriel cut across her calmly. “You are more than likely to burn yourself.” 

“Don’t the flames bother you?” She asked him quietly. He froze.

Nobody else had ever asked him. They had just expected him to be over it by now. He had 500 years to be over it. His hands clenched.

“Yes,” he answered quietly. “They still do.” It was the honest truth. A truth he never told anyone before, least of all someone like her. The shadows curled around his shoulders and arms as if to calm him down. The flames still bothered him. They always would. “But I learnt to deal with it a long time ago,” he continued.

“That’s not fair to you,” Zahra said, her voice quiet. “You are always the one in discomfort. And nobody cares.”

Her words hit him square in the gut. It was true. It was painfully true. He was always the one being uncomfortable. Always the one on edge. It had always been expected of him to be over it by now, the pain and the hurt. The fear and the bitterness. 

He finished building the fire. Using a match to light it carefully, then closing the door quickly.

“I can deal with it,” he answered quietly. “You should go to sleep,” he advised her.

“So should you,” Zahra told him just as quietly. “You look terrible.“ He knew he looked like crap. But that didn’t matter. 

“I’m fine,” he muttered, brushing off her comment. Even though he knew it was a lie. Even though he knew they were both terrible at taking care of themselves. 

“You are a terrible liar,” she quipped. He looked at her and was surprised to see a tiny smile on her face. 

“And you’re a very stubborn, very stupid, very annoying woman,” he quipped back just as quietly. 

The smile on her face broadened the tiniest bit at the comment. “I could say the same about you,” she shot back. 

“Sleep,” he told her again.

And then he left that little cottage to get back to the House of Wind. He didn’t bother winnowing, instead, he shot up into the sky with one flap of his mighty wings. He wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway.

His mind was whirling as he flew back to the House of Wind. So much had happened in the last few hours and it was all still a lot to process.

He had always been good at keeping a rein on his thoughts and his emotions. But this time, he simply couldn’t. 

Zahra and him, always on the outskirts of their family. Ignored and expected to get on with it.

They were so similar in so many ways. It was shocking to realize just how much they actually had in common.

The loneliness and solitude he had come to live with, she had experienced herself. The pain and the bitterness, he could recognize it on her, for he had felt it himself. 

Where are you, Az? Rhys demanded at that moment mentally. Azriel would like to scratch out his eyes, but he didn’t.

I’m flying back to the House, he sent back curtly. Zahra had a headache, so I brought her home.

A headache, Rhys shot back incredulously. Azriel could almost see the look on his High Lord’s face. You really think I will buy that?

I don’t care if you believe me or not, Azriel responded icily, his temper rising already at the tone. It is the truth and I really don’t wish to have a discussion over it.

There was a pause in Rhys’ mind. Then a slight huff. You can be so unbelievably stubborn sometimes, you know that?

Azriel didn’t bother reacting to that.

Elain and Lucien are figuring things out. So keep away from her, Rhys told him sharply.

I am keeping away from her, Azriel shot back, irritation flaring. You really think I will go and ruin this for her?

I don’t know what you are up to, Rhys retorted, and Azriel knew the High Lord was irritated. But I really don’t have the time to deal with your crap right now. That’s an order.

Understood, High Lord, Azriel snarled back and he felt Rhys chuckle in his mind at the tone. I will keep away from your precious Elain, I promise. 

Damn right you will, he heard Rhys mutter in his mind and the mental connection between the two of them snapped close. 

Azriel snarled in irritation as he landed on his balcony and stalked into his room. It wasn’t enough that he was wrestling with his own emotions, No, he also had Rhys all up his ass about it. 

And he was infuriated about the whole thing.

Nobody will suddenly show up and care, he has told Zahra. It was the truth. Nobody would care.

They only cared as long as they got what they wanted from him.

Chip away the pieces they didn’t like. Mould him into a person they could stomach. 

Either it was Rhys ordering to keep away from Elain…or ordering him to behave around Mor and Emerie… and to be quite honest…Azriel was done.

It was always him that needed to bend to make everybody else comfortable. Nobody bends for him.

So many years of following orders, of keeping his mouth shut, of bottling up the anger.

Even when everyone around him was getting what they wanted. They got their happily ever after. And he was left behind.  Not once did someone ever realize that he was struggling. Not once did someone notice that he needed something…anything. That he was hurting and in pain. Nobody even bothered to check on him, to ask how he was doing. 

They all got what they wanted. Mor, Emerie, even Feyre. They all got the mate that they wanted. Rhys, Cassian and even Amren had Varian. 

He was the one always helping everyone else. Always the one having to endure everything. Never anything for himself. No love for himself.

Orders, commands, demands…that’s all it ever was. He didn’t get a say in anything. They just expected him to be fine. And if he wasn’t…he had to push through it. 

He was the tool that did whatever needed to be done. The spy that got the order to do the dirty work. The shadowsinger that just had to endure everything. 

All for scraps of attention.

Azriel was done.

He was so done. With everything. With everyone. With the one-sided affection that he had given in a desperate attempt to feel…something, anything…. 

He needed to stop expecting to get anything from them.

Zahra did not. She seemed to have given that up a very long time ago

The cold realization that they had been doing the same to her hit him. She was also the tool they used when they needed it. She may not be a spy, but they used her just the same. Expected her to be fine. 

She was alone just as much as he was. 

Alone and isolated, an afterthought to their family just as much as he was. 

***

It was quiet in the little cottage. 

Peaceful. 

Comfortable.

Sie should be happy. Or at the very least…she should be content, should she not?.

Zahra had a roof over her head. And if she wanted to…she could afford food.

Her job didn’t pay that well, but it wouldn’t leave her starving. She just wasn’t hungry. She seemingly never was.

That was a lie and she knew it. Deep down she was hungry all the time. She just refused to give in to eating. She refused to listen to her body screaming for sustenance. It didn’t matter, anyway. Nobody cared.

She didn’t care.

Something inside her had broken during her bath in that cauldron. Her humanity had burned away and with that…with that everything Zahra had ever wanted.

She didn’t crave anything anymore. Not love. Not affection. Not attention. Not food. It was all gone. All she felt was numb. 

Cold, empty and numb. Like her shell had hardened and frozen over.

She had never thought it was possible to feel so damn tired without having done anything. 

Zahra forced herself to get up. Forced herself to heat some water on the stove… to make tea. The cheapest tea she had been able to find at the market.

It wasn’t the best. The taste was bitter and the color was more brown than black. But it was tea and she was thirsty enough to drink it.

It wasn’t very warm and left a bitter aftertaste on the tongue. Like her life itself. 

Maybe just dying would have been easier, she reflected bitterly. Was this how eternity would feel? Alone? Tucked away in this cottage? 

All her sisters had been given a mating bond. They had been given another person who loved them unconditionally…that was at their side. That wanted them around. That wanted to spent time with them. 

And then there was her. 

She had been closest to Feyre during the years in that cottage. Nesta gave her the fault for seemingly everything htat had ever gone wrong in her life, though Zahra privately thought that for Nesta, Zahra was just the evidence of another of her father’s failings…Elain…well, Elain was more embarrassed than anything about Zahra’s very existence. But Feyre…well, Feyre hadn’t cared. And so Zahra had tried to dote on her as much as she could. 

And then clearly she had been replaced in Feyre’s affections. 

She didn’t fault her for that. 

Feyre had made her own life. And she had every right to do that. She was busy with her mate and her son and Mor was her best friend and…there was seemingly no place for Zahra there. 

Which was fine. 

It was. 

But if Zahra was completely honest with herself…she was unspeakably jealous of the mating bond of every single one of her sisters. 

Of that promise of at least one person that would be on her side, come Hel or High Water. 

Clearly, something was wrong with her that she hadn’t been given a Mating Bond.

She wasn’t worth a mate. Clearly, something was broken inside her. Otherwise, the cauldron would have given her a mate, right? 

Maybe she was broken so thoroughly that nobody even wanted her. 

Why would they? She was a shell of a person, a ghost of the woman she was supposed to be.

She was cold, empty and numb. Everything that nobody could possibly want. 

Everyone else got a mate, love and happiness. Not her.

She had nothing.

Her hands clenched around her lukewarm cup of tea. 

Some random sparks of light sparked against the mug. A gift from the cauldron. They didn’t seem to do anything but warm whatever they touched. Maybe that was that random power the cauldron had given her. Neither future or death…but…warmth. She supposed it was something.

She wasn’t quite sure what to do with it, and she had never bothered telling anybody about it. 

Sometimes she allowed herself to play with them when she couldn’t sleep. They were strange and utterly useless. 

It wasn’t the power of foresight or the power of a death god…no. She had the stupid power to create sparks. Useless sparks of light. 

Oh well. 

Complaining about her sparks wasn’t going to help her either. 

So she pulled out her work and sat down to do her work as the sun came up and the day went on. 

Zahra balanced the account ledgers for one of the apothecaries in Velaris. Which meant she had a whole box of receipts to sort through and put into said ledger.

One receipt at a time, one name after the other. 

It kept her busy. It paid well enough. She seemed to have some kind of aptitude for it…maybe the fact that her father was a merchant had come through for once. 

She worked until the late evening. Until her eyes couldn’t concentrate on the numbers anymore.Until her back and shoulders ached with pain. She stretched her shoulders back. 

She wondered if she should eat something. Her cheese was gone, thanks to Azriel standing over her until she ate it…but she still had one or two slices of bread, didn’t she? 

She could go food shopping…buy another bread, another chunk of cheese tomorrow. 

Then Zahra heard a knock on the door. 

Confusion spread through her. Who would knock on her door at that very late hour? It was after 9 pm already. 

She got up, walked towards the door and opened it carefully.

It was the last person she would expected to be standing on the front porch. Azriel. 

“I am making you dinner.“

Her eyes widened at that announcement. “You are what?” she asked him dumbly. 

He just gave her a deadpan look and pushed past her. “I am cooking dinner because I am assuming that you haven’t eaten yet,” he told her plainly. 

It was true. Zahra hadn’t eaten a proper meal in god knows how long. But why did he care?? “Why?” she blurted out. “Why do you care if I’ve eaten?” 

He gave her a sharp look and pushed her towards the kitchen chair. “Sit down,” he simply ordered and she was too taken aback to protest against it. 

He had brought his own ingredients. His own knives, all tucked away in a little basket that he put on her countertop. “Can you peel potatoes?” He asked her as he rummaged through it. 

She could just stare at him. 

“Who do you think cooked the meat Feyre hunted?” Zahra replied drily.

Azriel froze in the process of digging something out of the basket on the counter. “You can cook?” he asked her and she heard the surprise in his voice. 

Zahra let out a snort. “Yes, I can cook,” she retorted. “What did you think I was doing this whole time in the cottage? Twiddling my thumbs?” 

He shrugged. “Honestly, I had no idea what you were up to,” he told her truthfully.  “I thought you were as useless as Elain and Nesta were at that point,” he admitted.

“Nesta did all the cleaning and hacked the wook,” Zara corrected him quietly. “Elain mended. I cooked. Feyre was the only one who hunted. And yes, we should have done more, but I did help run the household. The only one who never helped was our father.” The bitterness bled into her voice at that. 

There was a long pause after her admission. Then Azriel exhaled. “I guess I shouldn’t be as surprised as I am,” he muttered. “You don’t strike me as a pampered useless damsel.” 

“Thank you for that assessment, Shadowsinger,” she quipped back. “I will make sure to remember it when I need a pick-me-up.” 

He put a sack of potatoes in front of her. “I take it I’m peeling potatoes,” Zahra murmured, staring at the sack that was in front of her.

“Yes,” Azriel confirmed in that no-nonsense voice of his. “While I prep the meat. I do hope you like rabbit,” he added drily.

“Oh good,” she muttered, grabbing a knife and started to peel away at the potatoes. “Did you hunt it?”

“Yes,” he confirmed, his voice neutral. Zahra bit back a snarky remark and focused on the potatoes. 

They worked like that in silence. Him preparing the meat, her peeling the potatoes and the carrots.

It was odd. This whole thing was odd. Sitting and cooking with Azriel. She hadn’t even known he could cook. 

And yet…it was comfortable. Like the silence wasn’t awkward and neither of them felt the need to break it. It was a comfortable domestic kind of silence. Like they had done this a thousand times before. 

“How are you with spicy food?” Azriel asked her after he had taken the potatoes from her. 

Zahra blinked in surprise. “I have a pretty good tolerance, why?” she asked, curious. 

“All the food I can cook is Illyrian,” Azriel answered drily. “I learned from Rhys’ mother and later from my own. It’s spicy.”

“I can handle a bit of spice,” she assured him. “It should be fine.” He nodded in response. 

The sound of the fire crackling in the stove and him stirring up the meat were the only sounds filling the kitchen as they continued their work. 

Zahra honestly had no idea Azriel could cook. He didn’t seem like the type of male who spent time cooped up in the kitchen, making meals. It was a little surprising. 

And yet, the scents of spices and rabbit were filling her kitchen right now... It smelled almost heavenly. 

She hadn’t smelled something as heavenly in a long time. And her stomach growled in response to the delicious scents of food. Zahra tried to remember when she’d last eaten something actually decent, but she couldn’t think straight. The food was distracting her.

“You look half starved,” Azriel observed in a deadpanned tone and she snapped her head up only to find him looking at her. 

His eyes were focused on her, a frown playing on his forehead. “When was the last time you actually ate something properly?” he asked her, his voice firm. 

She averted her gaze. “I don’t know,” she muttered, looking away from him and to the pot bubbling on the stove. “Maybe a week ago?” 

He was silent for a moment. “That long?” he asked her, his voice carefully neutral. She just shrugged in response to keep herself from admitting that she actually couldn’t remember exactly. 

He poured hot, thick stew into a bowl for her and then put it in front of her, holding out cutlery for her to take. “Why are you doing this?” Zahra asked him weakly.

“Because I wish somehow had done it for me,” Azriel responded

That simple statement made her blink in surprise. It was not an answer she had been expecting. She bit her lip, not really sure what to say. 

And then he simply said. “Eat. You look like you’d blow away at the slightest breeze.”

She should have been angered by that blunt statement, but somehow she wasn’t. 

So Zahra ate.

The food tasted incredibly good. She had to admit that the Shadowsinger was talented with cooking. The food was spiced just perfectly, hot and filled with flavour. 

Every bite made her realize just how incredibly hungry she was. Her stomach filled slowly and the hunger abated with every spoonful. It was like her insides started to come back to life. The numbness was slowly disappearing, replaced by an odd sort of warmth flowing through her limbs. 

"Thank you," she finally said weakly.

Azriel just nodded at her, watching her eat. “Of course,” he murmured and continued with his own food. 

[wileys-russo]

aitana bonmatí “but you always do it”, locker room

you can do it II a.bonmatí

"looking a little worse for wear there amiga." you sent a side eye to mapi who held her hands up in defence with a whistle at the withering glare, slinking away to go bother someone else.

"ay chica why is your girl so grumpy?" patri chuckled to aitana watching the interaction, the huffs and glares sent by you to anyone who came within five feet of you incredibly out of character.

"do not ask." aitana sighed knowing full well why you were being so stand offish, having kept her distance all morning and walking on egg shells with every interaction.

"what did you do tana?" frido grinned from on her other side with a raised eyebrow as the girl laced up her boots and frowned. "nothing! she is not angry, she is tired." aitana sighed with a roll of her eyes.

"i will ask again, what did you do?" frido laughed as the shorter girl bumper her shoulder into the swede's. "nothing. we got a puppy, sí?" the midfielder started to explain as both patri and frido nodded, everyone having been fighting for days now to come and meet your new fur baby.

"well, she has been trying to crate train him but it is not going well." your girlfriend sighed, watching with a wince as you struggled to get your boots on, grumbling in annoyance to yourself under your breath.

"he just cries and cries until she sits beside the crate or lets him out. so she has barely been sleeping but she will not listen to me about ignoring him crying so he learns she will not come every time!" the brunette explained with a roll of her eyes as the girls either side of her hummed in understanding.

"ah, so it is your fault." patri hummed as frido agreed and the shorter girl looked at them both in bewilderment. "no! it is her fault for not listening to me and listening to the dog instead." aitana huffed pulling her socks up.

"sure tana, go tell your girlfriend that. i am sure that will improve her mood!" frido chuckled, squeezing her shoulder as she and patri stood to leave the locker room, most of the girls having already filed out to the pitch for training.

watching you on your phone as you were now ready for training aitana sighed knowing you were likely watching the puppy camera you'd insisted on having installed so in the brief times neither of you weren't home you could keep an eye on your new fur baby, and you'd even sprung for the more expensive one which allowed you to speak to it through an app.

grabbing her hairbrush and an elastic you looked up as aitana sat down beside you, a hopeful smile on her face as you spied the objects in her hand.

"tana por favor i am too tired, do it yourself or ask ingrid." you sighed, clicking off your phone and dumping it in your bag as you rubbed your eyes.

"but you always do it." the brunette pushed gently, knocking her knee against yours and smiling softly as you shook your head, face buried in your hands. "not today amor."

"lo sé cari, i know you are tired i heard you get up and down and up and down and-" aitana shut up the moment your eyes glared at her, grinning apologetically.

"if you heard me so many times the you could have gotten up and helped aitana." your girlfriend winced at the use of her full name, something that rarely left your lips and only further cemented your bad mood today.

"lo siento mi amor. how about tonight i will be on puppy duty?" she offered as you gave her a suspicious look. "really?" you questioned, your girlfriend never having offered before not that you'd really asked given the dog was mostly your idea anyway.

"but. i will be doing it my way bebé, he needs to learn that just because he cries you will not go running to him every time or else he will not adjust to the crate, no?" she spoke firmly but softly as you sighed and nodded, knowing even if you'd struggled to do so that she was right.

"perfecto. so tonight i will sleep downstairs in the spare room, i will put el perrito in his crate just outside the door and you will get a good nights sleep. vale?" your girlfriend raised an eyebrow as you nodded, aitana relaxing as a small smile graced your features.

"vale. muchas gracias mi vida." you leaned in to peck her lips sweetly a few times before tugging the hairbrush and elastic from her hand, chuckling as within seconds she was sat expectantly on the floor between your legs ready for you to braid her hair.

"now if only el perrito was as well trained as you tana." "amor!"

[satoshy12]

Like grandfather like grandson

Danny x Val Ra's al Ghul father of Alicia and Maddie Ex-LoA Maddie, who had good relationship with Ra. Danny and Jazz's very busy grandfather, Ra's al Ghul, pays a surprise visit to Amity Park, leaving Maddie Fenton both intrigued and happy. Jazz was happy to talk with her grandfather again; the last time they did was because she told him she didn't want to rule his cult.

Ra's was interested in his grandson; imagine his surprise to learn his descendant built his own group! And took care a problem he wanted to take care of.

Danny, even with his ghostly abilities, also inherits a part of his grandfather's legacy, he formed his own elite group. Drawing inspiration from the Assassins of the Assassin's Creed, Danny and his team don the iconic robes and hoods. And his relationship with Valerie Gray had deepened as their connection strengthened as they navigated the challenges while in battle. So they were dating again and much happier now too.

Together, they protect Earth from supernatural and extraterrestrial threats from the Zone and similar In a similar way, Black Ops do it, not knowing they were there to take it.

John Constantine most often uses them and pays them pretty well. Like most of the Justice League Dark.

+ Ra's had a lot of joy talking with his grandson about different ideas and how to lead them, and seeing old assassins who died serving him and their ghosts had joined the cult "okay Madeline" group of his grandson. For a group of only four humans, they were pretty effective too as he read the report his spies found about them. Jasmine didn't seem to fully want to join it, but it's good to see she is still as strong as before.

+ Maddie joined it and gave tips for it; it was like when she was a child and before she left. She didn't want to be his heir; her father wouldn't die anyway. She has no idea why he wants a Heir anyway.

++++ - So in a way, Talia and Damian are the replacements twice over, or even worse, three times over, for the position heir. - The other ones didn't want the heir position.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Cinderella | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

You awoke to the kneading of a suited cat against your chest. Slow to wake you let your head fall back into the plush of your bed only to be called by a peeved meow. 

“I know. I know Luci. I’m coming.”

Not even bothering to change out of your pajamas you slipped into your cat-themed slippers and followed behind the cat bee-lining it to his feeding tray. You took out the pre-plated meal as quickly as possible and heated it. Lifting yourself off the ground onto the adjacent counter you saved yourself from the anxious pawing that Lucius was doing on the floor parallel to the activated microwave. Hearing a familiar tune play you opened the mini door to promptly bring the feisty cat his meal. You sighed, satisfied as you heard the wet and determined sounds of a feeding house cat. 

Looking out from the kitchen and foyer you spied the moving shadow under the door of the study. You skipped across the threshold being sure to quiet yourself to tiptoe as you creaked the door open. Within the crack, you watched your stepfather move across the bookshelves, eventually turning so that his back was to the door. Fighting giggles you let yourself be careful of where you stepped to avoid the creaking floorboards, doing your best to creep up on the old man. 

“Good morning to you as well (Y/n).” 

You sucked your teeth, sitting on one of the many plush armchairs. 

“Awww man I thought I caught you good!” 

The old man let a ghost of a smile on his face as he made his final selections. 

“What did I say about talking like that? At this rate, you will say whatever comes to mind.”

“You already know I do, old dude!”

He turned with a shake of his head carrying the stack he’d made out of the room; you followed suit. Up the stairs and down the hall past the doors of the ones who still had yet to wake. Past the bathroom, the powder room, and into the music room. It was a big room with only two instruments in the corner, two stools, and a flimsy podium to match. He said it was for better acoustics but you guessed he just wanted a room without the clutter that seemed to follow those two. 

Setting his books down on a faraway coffee table, he only bought one over to the podium. Adjusting it until he deemed it perfect he stopped to see his dear cat enter the room. Scooping him up, he walked over to your leaning form against the door. 

“Thank you for feeding Lucius. I’ve been diving…into some old texts. You know how I get so distracted with that.”

“It’s fine. I know you struggle with the microwave, anyway.” The snide comment has Mozus bristling with embarrassment.

“I don’t struggle with it…I’m just…learning as I go along.”

“Sure. Sure. But we know the truth, right Lucius?”

“Mreow!”

You laugh, hearing a hushed ‘traitor’ as you make your escape headed back to your room. You wonder if it is too soon to make a wish, that you’ll be back in bed before they wake.

“Oi oi Frog what are you doing up without waking me!?”

Too late. You traipse tiredly toward the redheaded misfit seeing that he’s dressed for the day and already sporting a mean face.

“Well sorry,” you dragged the word with a roll of your eyes. “Next time you want to wake up this early leave your cat door unlocked!” 

“Eeegh!? And let the furball go through my stuff!? No way!”

“Then don’t come out whining then.”

“Hey don’t you tell me how to-”

“Good Morning you guys!” 

With a yawn, in came Deuce with a kinder disposition than Ace. You gave him a ‘morning’ to which Ace only scoffed before letting his eyes land on you. Seeing as they were both up and dressed you guessed you’d deliver the news.

“Guess who’s having lessons today?”

“You?” Deuce tried. 

“Ha no, flute and piano! Plus whatever’s in the ‘old texts’” 

They groaned once again letting their eyes fall on you and staying there before you shooed them off. Letting them pass you, you watched as Deuce walked robotically down the hall followed by Ace who was slow to leave. With a smirk on his face, he turned to you.

“Feeling cold in just your jammies, huh?”

You squinted your face in confusion before a look down had you crossing your arms around your chest. You shot him a disgusted look as he skipped into the music room; another roll of your eyes and you retreated to the comfort of your room. 

Dressed for the day you wandered back to the music room; peaking in on the instruction they needed. They were huddled around Mozus as he instructed movements with his pointer stick, you compared it to that of a wizard in a book of fiction. The looks on their faces were serious–a rare thing for the idiots that never grasped anything. You leaned in only to catch snippets of what they were saying.

“...protect them…whatever it…takes…”

“... even…?”

“Yup, I mean who wouldn’t?”

Before you could listen any further they quieted upon someone’s alert of your presence. The cat meowed loudly at you through the crack of the door; you shushed the cat as you let yourself in giving him the pets he probably wanted. It wouldn’t be odd if it weren’t for their immediate actions to look as if they were doing something else. Mozus and Ace played it easy either looking at a book or blowing a raspberry before writing something. Deuce was the dead giveaway; eyes widening and darting across the room as he flailed to read a book upside down. 

“Sooo what’ya doin’?

“We’re about to begin a music lesson if you’d like to join us?” 

Ace was at the piano cracking his knuckles and hands as if he were about to do manual labor. Deuce was turning red as he practiced harsh blowing techniques into the air before bringing the flute to his lips.

“No no! I’m good.” You frantically spoke. You’d been cursed to hear their harmonies before and you would not let yourself be tortured in such a way again. You began to back out of the room only for Mozus to call for you. 

“(Y/n) if you’d be willing would you mind running some errands?”

“Sure!” You liked to go on errands, it was the only thing you were really allowed to do.

“Make sure to take Lucius with you!”

The cat was already meowing at you down the hallway going into your room. He had the right idea the moment they touched those instruments.

“Thanks again, Trey! You know how much Trein loves your bread.”

“Oh? Is he the only one?” Trey teased as he placed the wrapped loaves into your basket.

“Well…maybe…I’ll help myself to a few slices if there’s any left. Ace and Deuce are ravenous.”

Behind his frames, you could see his eyes glaze over in a disgruntled haze but as quickly as it came it left; letting a smile spread across his face. 

“Then maybe I’ll give you an extra loaf. Just for you to enjoy.” 

Lucius gave a pensive meow.

“Ah, I don’t know…I have other errands to run and I don’t have anything extra.”

“No worries, I’ll give you an extra for free… it's a…creme special…”

You tilted your head in thought genuinely trying to think of what wouldn’t leave you in a bad light. 

“But I wouldn’t want you wasting product on something yer givin’ for free.”

“No worries it was going stale anyway, just wait here just a second.”

The baker disappeared behind into the kitchen; in the meantime, you rocked on your heels. Shushing the cat that seemed to get antsier by the second, making you internally plead that Trey hurries it up. As if to answer your call the baker emerged looking flushed but proud he handed you the clear-wrapped piping hot bread with a white glaze on it. Adding it to the other loaves of bread you dismissed yourself with an honest curtsy figuring it’d leave you less in debt to him.

“Thanks again, Trey! Though I doubt this was going stale!”

“Please it was on its way out! Have a good day, (Y/n)!” 

“You too, man!” 

You waved, walking out the door of the bakery straight to your car gingerly placing the bread basket and Lucius in the backseat. You made sure to give the needy kitty a rub before driving to your next destination: the tailor. Ace and Deuce had a nasty habit of somehow destroying everything they owned within a twenty-hour period; suits were no exception. So for your last errand of the day you were collecting an order of suits for them. With Trein’s name, you let the stuttery attendant disappear into the backroom before letting your eyes wander in wait. 

“Ooh, that suit…”

Speaking to no one you eyed the mannequin sporting a character of a suit. Exaggerated points and a tail that gave it a regal feel; you imagined yourself fitting snugly in its place. You imagined a jealous scoff of Ace and the awe on Deuce’s face as you posed next to their plain, irresponsible suits. You smirked to yourself, nodding to the ceiling as you imagined the scene so vividly.

“You should get it.”

Your eyes snapped open to someone new, a boy with lilac hair and soft features. His short stature leaned against the counter as he stared in your direction. You straightened yourself out crossing your arms as you got a read on this dude’s emotion,

“Excuse me?”

“You like the suit, don’t you? And we both know you’d look good in it so just do it.”

Your eyes drifted longingly to the suit before darting back to the man or rather in his general direction.

“Hey?! What do you–mean by that?”

Before you could search for the mysterious complimenter, the attendant returned with two wrapped suits letting you carry out the transaction. You let your eyes roam the shop once more before asking the fidgeting attendant. 

“Hey, who was with you today?”

“W-what?”

“T-the the little man, he was trying his best to sell that suit over there. Is he a new employee or–?”

“Uhm I’m the only one on staff today..did someone come into the shop?” She murmured as she looked to the distance in thought,” Maybe the bell rang and I didn’t notice?”

You shook your free hand in an attempt to calm her down, “It's fine it’s fine, I’m probably just hungry. Welp thank you and have a good day!”

You dismissed yourself going back to your air-conditioning car with Lucius sitting in the front seat as if waiting for you to return. Thanking the cat for not honking your horn, you draped the suits on the passenger seat; scooping up the cat you took the car out of park. Sending one last look towards the tailor before driving off. 

For a good half of the ride, you kept going back to the strange fellow in the store. He did have a different kind of energy around him…it felt almost…sparkly? That aside you decided to forget about the whole encounter and instead focus on the road. Speaking of, your feline passenger was being especially quiet; a far cry from the usually vocal meowing as he tries to sit in your lap. Waiting until a stop light you let yourself look in the rearview mirror to spot Lucius pawing at the opening of the bread basket.

“Lucius, please don’t touch that.”

You cursed yourself for not bringing a toy for him; focusing on getting home fast enough before any damage could be done. When you pulled into the driveway you could already see the vehicle of another one that represents the royal convoy. You hurriedly grabbed everything you’ve gathered leaving the door open to let Lucius run in himself. The cat did just that with a certain loaf in tow.

“Lucius!? Hey! That’s my bread, Lucy come on!” 

You struggled to follow the cat inside as you juggled the suits and the bread basket hanging on your arm. Nonetheless, you made your way in completely unaware of the company your family was entertaining. 

“-as I was saying we will not be needing any more invitations.”

“And as I see it you will be needing more invitations.” The determined voice came from who you assumed must’ve been the owner of the royal vehicle. “Ruggie if you please.” 

Peeking out from behind your little pile you spied the royal colors of orange and black worn by a beefy guy with dark skin and white hair. You quickly averted your eyes when his amber eyes stared intensely into yours, disappearing into the kitchen you fanned yourself to fruitlessly calm the heat that enveloped your face; missing the dispute your father and the knight seemed to have with your father. 

“I will repeat..that is but a servant: someone who best stays with the house for our livelihood.”

“So you insist…” The amber-eyed knight sneered in disbelief looking at his confidant who reentered the room with a framed photo in his hands. 

“Well, it doesn’t seem like this…servant of yours…is all that depended on to sort your house.” Snickering to himself Ruggie flung a decorative globe from his pocket leaving Deuce to lunge as he caught the item. “Which is the house of an upper-middle-class family that can certainly afford a night on the town. Though I get why you’d want to keep them a secret they are quite the…catch.” 

On the last word, the royal attendant threw the frame in Mozus’ direction which he caught gingerly holding the frame to his chest as the knight further glared at him. The royal envelope was also shoved in his direction dropping it at his feet when he made no moves to receive it. 

“His Highness expects all to be there. Good day.”

“Hishishishi, bye-bye.” 

Both knight and attendant left with a glare and smirk respectively before leaving as swiftly as they came; leaving their hosts in a dreary position. Ace and Deuce entered the foyer both cradling various pictures and artistic decor. Exchanging dark looks with one another as you finally entered the foyer, awkwardly swinging your arms back and forth as you picked up on the  tense atmosphere.

“Sooo you guys want to tell me about what happened there? Did Ace finally get caught for some stupid crime?” You tried to lighten the mood as you poked fun at Ace. But he didn’t react to you simply looking away as Deuce caved.

“Well no it's more like we have something to tell you–what?”

Elbowed in the ribs the boys begin something of a glaring contest which has Mozus intervening. Sending them away with a look you and your step-father are the only ones left in the room as the two grumbles to their rooms. 

“So what’s this all about?”

“The prince is holding a banquet..in hopes of finding a spouse.” Mozus sighed as he moved towards the study; sitting in his chair. “His employees were adamant that we all make an appearance.”

“All of us?” Sitting across from him you looked into his tired eyes.

“Yes. I’m under the impression that they believe us to be…abusive to you…so they were insistent that you attend.” 

You sucked your teeth in annoyance. “Can’t we like makeup an excuse…like that my formal wear got destroyed or something? I mean if they had any doubts I could just back it up.”

Mozus let out a weary sigh as he stared into the distance. 

“But I doubt that would work, they are royalty after all.”

“Royalty Shmoyalty we pay our taxes and as such, we should be allowed to marry who we please. And not be forced to play bachelorette with this prince-guy.”

He laughed at your statement, settling into the chair as you do the same. Smiling at his ounce of joy that settled into a look of trust. 

“So…will you be alright not to attend…under such circumstances?”

“Yeah of course!  Lucius and I can have a ball of our own…all under a happy accident.”

___________________________________________________

“Told you they’d be slippery.” Prince Leona laughed as he listened to the feedback of the conversation. Amused by the way his knight and attendant’s eyes widen as they listened in. As he predicted his prey and their herd were a slippery bunch; collectively united to make his hunt that much harder. While he did prefer to nap rather than hunt he didn’t mind the means all that much when the end would be so fulfilling.

“Uh, you sure you really want this one? I don’t know if it’s worth marrying into a family brave enough to defy the crown.”

“I- ’ll have to agree with Ruggie-senpai on this one. Would you really want to mate with someone with so many…admirers.”

The knight spoke frankly, having tailed the auspicious character that everyone couldn’t help but swoon over. Too often had he watched the citizens sink into the darkest depths of depravity all in pursuit of this…(Y/n)-character. For all, he could deduct it wouldn’t be bizarre that those with more sway in nobility or even other kingdoms may come to desire them the same way. They could use their power after being exposed to them either through violence or diplomatic servitude. 

(Y/N) Trein was a dangerous specimen, to Jack, for someone so unaware of their effect on people they easily captivate anyone that so much as glances at them. He didn’t know what scared him more the prospect of many endangering the life of his prince or the pull of his own desire for you. It was shameful but he found no solace in running from his emotions. All he knew is that it’d be trouble if his master decided to wed you…

“Heh. Don’t you think that’s a good enough reason anyway?” Leona snickered at his subordinates’ blinking in confusion. 

“Who else will have the resources to keep such a snare, locked up tight?”

“Then what about the bigwigs? Won’t they want to see them?” Ruggie tested, hoping to catch the Prince off-guard. Leona only laughed flashing his canines in a toothy grin. 

“I doubt you’d two would let that happen,” He laughed at the shocked look Jack would make as he turned to see Ruggie’s expression of panic. “Don’t think I couldn’t tell, they are practically irresistible.”

“A-aren’t you…worried that we’d steal them from you?”

Leona leaned back with his hands behind his head, letting his legs cross on the center console smirking to himself.

“Tch steal them and face the entire fleet of my brother’s kingdom? Fat chance. Jack’s too uptight and Ruggie’d run out of money,” the two shrugged and turned away in affirmation.

“Besides we’re all quite good at sharing with one another. Right, Jack?”

“Hishishishi”

 Jack’s cheeks dusted with heat as Ruggie snickered, bashfully putting his arms behind his head. Letting the hyena calm his laughter, the knight cleared his throat already paging the royal tailors.

“I’ll go ahead and place the orders. One for a simple delivery and the second one for their untimely incident. 

__________________________________________________________

“Ooops the outfit I just got from the royal family ended up in the furnace. Oh—ACE! Are you paying attention!” 

“What?” 

He looked up at you with the residue of whatever he was eating on his face as he gave you a stupid dumbfounded look. You sneered and rolled your eyes resisting the urge to pull at his ear or smack him upside the head but since his eyes were on you you continued. 

“Ace. Look at what’s happened to my outfit from the royal family, I’ve accidentally thrown it into the furnace. See?”

“Uhhh okay? You wanna medal of somethin’?”

You just needed a witness. You just needed a witness. Carrying what you could ‘save’ from the furnace you put it in a metal bucket as you carried it to your father who sat dutifully writing a letter to the prince’s staff. You sweatdropped at his old-fashioned style as you set down your evidence for your computer already typing the beginning of his letter. 

“Hey, it might arrive in time if we email them a picture..”

“...I guess that would serve our cause just as nicely.”

While you weren’t worried about informing them of your absence so early you didn’t want your Father who was guaranteed to possibly run into those intimidating lackeys to be accused of not even attempting. With hours until the banquet it would put the royal family in the impossible position of producing a tailor–made masterpiece in time. You left him to type awkwardly at the computer, hoping to save him from the embarrassment of your pity.

“Well, then I ought to get ready for the night.”

You had grand plans to enact a night full of debauchery as you relished in the emptiness of the house. Which consisted of finally going through the steamy selections Trein believed to be a pile of ash. Along with preparing to prepare for the turf war of pranks that Ace and Deuce seemed to endlessly rule. It would be glorious! That being said, you wasted no time bugging the duo to prepare for their departure as well as protecting their suits from whatever disaster seems to follow them. 

Trein was also kept busy not only preparing his email but steeling himself as he slid his wand into the undercoat of his suit. Despite your attempt to help he was certain the prince wouldn’t take kindly to this…incident. He was prepared to lose the battle himself but his sons were the only ones he needed to keep safe. Anyone would carry out his will, should the worse come to be, it’d be them. 

“Y-you don’t think we’ll have to use these…do you?”

Deuce’s breathless whisper weighed heavy on Trein’s heart but he steeled himself. They need to be strong and as their only role model left he needed to embody that. So with eyes cold and distant, he encouraged them to be prepared. 

“I won’t cry for you old man because you’re not dying. And (Y/n)’s not going to end up with that pompous prince anyway! Not if I have anything to say about it!” 

“Y-yeah.”

Could a father be more proud? His hugs were tight and firm, a silent reminder of his love before facing you. You have always been a joy to nurture. Prideful and loving it hurt not to warn you of his possible end but he couldn’t bring himself to worry you now. So with an ache in his heart, he smiled a woeful ‘farewell’ as you giggled something unread. But he couldn’t have asked for a better send-off. 

“Yes! Now that they’re gone I can be an absolute menace!” 

And your night of menacing would begin as you begin your plans for the night. Completely unminding of the sun setting as you continued to enjoy your time in an empty house. All was well traps were set, and treats were had but then an ominous knock at the door had you shooting off the couch. 

“Delivery of the royal family.”

The sound of steps quickly receding and the sound of tires skirting off. You rushed to the door, opening it to find a dreaded copy of the outfit you destroyed hours before. Were you wrong? Was the royal family truly so prominent that they were fast enough to prepare this!? You took it inside and began to pace…surely they shouldn’t expect you to show up with your family’s car already gone? But if they were so adamant about something as small as this perhaps they would send a car. Or some form of transportation so that your father would not be at fault, right? Right?!

You stuck your head out into the dark and chilling night, looking down the street across the estate. Alas, no car or limo was in sight nor the sound of any vehicles on the street. With a heart full of anxiety you turned back into your home, closing the door. You kept your eyes trained on the wooden floorboards as you wracked your brain for some solution. 

“Well, that’s convenient.”

The sultry voice has you snapping in horror to the living room where a man or rather three were hovering around. In the armchair facing the door was a man with blonde hair and purple tips that curled at the sparkling surface of his purple suit that’s back curtained into a tuft half-skirt. He wore a full face of makeup, sporting a knowing smolder and a raised chin giving a look of refinement. The other man with blonde hair in a bowl cut stood just behind the same chair dressed in a matching tail suit that reached dramatically at his calves. He tipped his hat with a widening smile as you met his emerald gaze.

“Bonjour mon cheri, it's a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“F-finally?”

You were slow to join them in the living room despite their unchallenging demeanor. Only moving forward when the third male with soft features was lackadaisically rifling through the frames of your family on a nearby coffee table. You ran over taking it from him to put it back in its place, the lavender-haired male shrugged returning to the side of the man with folded hands in the chair. You scratched at your head as you took in the odd throuple.

“So what are you? How did you get in here? Why are you–”

“We don’t have much time (Y/n) so I’ll make this short. Rook!” 

The blonde with the hat stepped forward, “Yes My Queen!” 

Clearing his throat he opened his hands as he presented each of them. 

“We are your fairy…helpers. This Roi du Poison: Vil and this is Monsieur Crabapple: Epel and as you’ve heard I am Rook! We are at your service for the night!” 

You opened your mouth to respond, stopped by Vil’s raised hand. He sighs and shakes his head.

“I’m certain you have questions (Y/n), but we don’t have time for that. At this moment Mozus Trein is ingesting the poison that will kill him at the stroke of midnight.”

“What–! Why didn’t you say something sooner!” 

“I’m telling you now so hush. We’ll give you the antidote but-”

“But?”

Rook excitedly chimed “You must be back by midnight! Otherwise–” 

This time it was Epel who spoke in a hasty tone, “Or we’ll be forced to collect a form of payment from the life that was saved.”

“Do you accept?”

His made-up smile was unreadable but his eyes smiled with curiosity. As though you’d have any other answer to their proposal.

“I accept.”

Rook cheered while you unraveled the gaudy garments that matched the kingdom’s colors. Vil grimaced and gagged. 

“Oh no, I am not letting you arrive in that! Especially not late!” 

As if he was gliding he stood up from his seat to stand nearly chest to chest with you. You pulled away when he moved his hand to your face, flashing you a look of solemn sarcasm before materializing a wand in a flash of sparkles. 

Smiling at your dropped jaw he waved the wand over your head. Just like its appearance the wand sprinkled sparkles all over your lounge clothes transforming them into a magnificent outfit, with frills and folds that added a new type of elegance. You even felt a tiara appear on your head before Vil slapped your hand away. The final touch was a stylish pair of sneakers, you flashed him a curious look while he sighed. 

“Judging by the time,” He flashed a look at the clock. “You’ll need to move fast, ballroom wear isn’t exactly what you need.”

“Touche”

Rook appeared from behind him with a mirror in hand showing the unfamiliar reflection of you in stellar makeup. 

“You look like rêve dans la vraie vie!”

“Uh, thanks?”

Smoothing out the outstanding frills and floof you hurried to the door before returning to Vil who shook his head again before handing you the vial with a color-changing liquid. You held it close, finding a secure pocket to store the vial before once again heading to the door to make a hard stop with sunken shoulders.

“Guys! I don’t have a car!”

Vil deadpanned, “Not my department.”

“It’s mine!” Epel shouted, smiling widely as he took your hand with his leading you out the door. Holding you behind him, he enthusiastically pulled out his wand and waved it wildly around, much less precise as Vil had done. 

Similar sparkles popped wildly about to reveal a coolish blue and purple vehicle. Screaming slim and sleek it looks like the latest edition of motorcyle. Noting how it matched your look, you jumped as the engine revved animatedly as though it was calling out to you. Turning to Epel who was proudly smiling at your shocked face. 

“B-but I don’t know how to ride–”

“Don’t worry! It’s magic! Now go! go!” 

He pushed you along to start running towards the bike. You leaned forward, gripping the handles feeling a warm urge rush over you as you reeled your right hand back to try the engine. Booming loud and spiking your adrenaline you almost missed the warning he gave as you kicked up the stand. 

“Once you get closer to the time limit it’s not going to work the same.”

“Okay got it! Bye, and thanks!” 

You hurriedly waved to the three who were standing on the front door steps, each waving to you with their varied levels of energy. Jetting off you let what must’ve been the magic course through your veins as you mindlessly turned through the empty streets towards the castle banquet hall. 

“I’m coming, Dad! Just give me time!”

_____________________________________________________

Deuce could barely stand to sway with the woman who had asked him to dance. He was too busy keeping his eyes on his father. Engaged in conversation with the prince’s guard looking especially terse as he smoothly sipped at his champagne glass. 

“Hey, boy!? Are you paying attention or am I just that nice to hold?”

“S-sorry!” 

He hurriedly released his hold on the woman, quickly wiping his hands against his suit before scampering into the crowd of beautiful people. Baby blue eyes searched frantically for his brother, feeling the burning weight in the pocket close to his chest. His searching proved fruitless as he lost his tact in maneuvering between the giant dresses and tailcoats.

“A-ace?”

“Hey!?”

“S-sorry!” 

Breaking out of the crowd he found himself in the darker section of the garden. Away from the floating lights and mingling guests. Collapsing on a bench to clutch at his heart that was beating a mile a minute. How could he be so useless? His father was possibly having the biggest confrontation of his life and all he could do was search for his brother in hopes of intervening. He couldn’t recall when he became such a coward. Maybe it was the day he lost his new mother? Or when (Y/n) was almost abducted? Or that time Ace left him in that closet? But what did it matter? To blame any one moment distracted from the outstanding major point–that Deuce was a coward that might be losing someone soon. Two if he didn’t get up soon. 

He tried to stand but was cruelly returned to his spot when he felt his body trembling. Could he take on anyone with such fragility? Without Ace’s loud presence to hide behind? 

Deuce shakily inhaled and exhaled.

“What are you doin’ out here?”

The voice was gravelly and deep as if its owner had just awakened. Easing his fear with curiosity the ravenette looked to the bush across from him. The owner of the voice was yawning and stretching from out the previously neat shrubbery. Dark-skinned with cat-like eyes and unruly hair, Deuce thought he looked familiar but couldn’t place his face. Leona on the other hand, let a fanged smirk spread across his face, and recognized him right away.

“Uh, what are you doing…sleeping in a bush…at a party?”

“Probably the same reason, you’re out here crying.”

“I-i’m not crying!” 

Leona chuckled, leaping out of the bush to tower over the still-sitting Deuce. With sly intention, the prince sat next to him feigning sympathy as he probed further.

“Oh? Then what are you doing? Did you just get dumped, maybe?”

He sighed, “No…I’m just getting over an…insecurity, I guess.”

“Insecurity?”

“I just…get kind of anxious and recently I’ve just been scared.”

“Scared?”

“Yeah. I think I’m just worried because my Da–father’s life is kind of in danger and I’m just not–”

Leona was mentally rolling his eyes. This guy just kept going on and on. But perhaps if he could show a little sympathy it’d help smooth things over in the future. After all, it'd be helpful to have his brother-in-law willing to speak well in his spouse’s ear. 

“Well, I think you should focus on getting some security.”

“Security?”

“Yeah, whatever option certifies your status and family’s well-being no matter how small.”

“Wait what was tha–?”

Deuce’s question was interrupted by the crux of gasps from the party guests. Who all seemed to be gawking at something deep within the party hall. Deuce stood up, wasting no time to fight through the crowd; praying it wasn’t shock from someone’s untimely death. On the other hand, Leona sauntered, slinking around the crowd to watch what caught everyone’s attention.

_______________________________________________________________

In the sea of guests dressed in the earthly colors of the kingdom, you were sure you stood out. Your outfit was a macrame of blues and purples, sparkling beyond any normal amount. This is why you couldn’t fault the entire gaggle of guests guffawing at your wear and if looked under a speculative scope could be considered a direct protest of the crown. It might have been an unintentional perk but you’d take it nonetheless. 

Almost immediately you spotted Mozus looking shocked with his drink in hand. Still panting from running up the steps, you strode with confidence purposely taking—whoever this man was to the prince—by surprise as you guided your father away. 

“Excuse me, I must speak to my father for a moment.”

“Uh, y-yeah–I mean, yes.”

You didn’t wait for his response while you led your father away, sneakily slipping the drink out of his hand. Finally coming to terms with you being there, Mozus spoke trying to keep his composure as you started to waltz, joining the still-staring crowd as you spoke.

“(Y/n) you look–”

“Stunning? Dazzling? Remarkable? I know.”

He smiled and shook his head at you.

“But what are you doing here? I thought we agreed you’d stay home.”

He twirled you and you responded, “We did. But they sent another.”

“Another?!”

“Another.”

You two followed the steps, both of you taking a look at the non-dancing folks. The prince is among them. Sucking your teeth, you took your father’s hand dragging him off the dance floor to the table holding drinks. Pulling the vial out of your pocket you didn’t bother to hide it as you frantically dumped the vial into a glass before holding it out to him.

“I don’t have much time. You need to drink this.”

He looked at you like you were Ace–stupid. You leaned in keeping your voice low as you laid it out for him.

“I got a tip that you have been poisoned,” you put your finger up as he looked ready to argue.

“ You did drink? Didn’t you?”

His embarrassed silence told you everything you needed to know.

“Which is why you need to drink this cure and I have to leave before we’re in debt for it.”

Mozus opened his mouth and closed it, finally taking the glass from your hand. Holding it to his chest as he looked at you.

“Are you certain?”

“Of what?”

“Of this…being a cure.”

“...”

“(Y/n)--”

“Please! I don’t want to take the chance…”

He couldn’t resist the way you looked at him with those pleading (e/c) eyes, so much like the toddler he’d fallen in love with from day one. Mozus Trein would always have a strength weakness and you were one of three.

“Fine.”

He downed the champagne like a madman, going back to his stoic expression. He raised an eyebrow as you continued to stare at him as if expecting some immediate change to happen.

“Don’t you have to leave before we’re in debt?”

“Ohhh! You’re right!” 

You hugged him before sprinting through the crowd, unfortunately on your way out you could already see the stuttering man and another running to catch you before you reached the door. In your dash, you took a detour using the crowd to stifle their chase, looking around for those familiar pair of troublemakers. 

“Oi! I said we’re dancing, didn’t I!? LET’S GO PRINCEY!” 

It was Ace dragging the scowling prince to the dance floor away from the position that would have been your doom. You silently thanked him as you spotted the night sky, about to jump down the steps you stopped because of the burly man guarding your exit. 

“I apologize! But per my prince’s orders, I can not let you through!” 

Before you could retaliate you were stilled by the increasing cry of Deuce flying by!

“ I AP-OL-OGIZE!”

Crashing into the man his momentum sent the both of them tumbling down the stairs. You ran behind them passing by to get to your magic motorcycle. Shouting behind you, you stuck your thumbs up.

“Thanks, Deucey!”

Instead of words, you were met with the continuous grunts and fleshy sounds of being punched. You stopped yourself from looking and instead focused on mounting your ride once more. But something wasn’t sitting right, wasn’t there another–?

“Hi, there!”

“Whoa!” 

Standing right in front of you was a leaner male, smaller than the prince, and the guard smiling mischievously as he blocked your ride. 

“Where are ya goin’ so fast?”

“None of your business!”

“What? Don’t you want to–” 

His smile became a smirk as he raised his hand toward you. You felt like you were having an out-of-body experience where you couldn’t control any of your movements.

“Laugh With Me?!”

At that moment a flash of sparkles seems to sprout from your outfit shooting into the man’s face. He reeled back, falling to the ground and curling into himself as he clutched his nose. Recognizing the sparkle you sent a kiss to the sky before zooming off on your motorcycle. 

“THANK YOU!!”

Riding off into the night you let yourself breathe. One hurdle at a time. The next one is getting home in time which should be fine. As long as the prince and his goons are occupied at the very least you’ll get home in time.

_____________________________________________________________

“Are you sure that was okay?” Epel asked as he worriedly watched you ride on the motorcycle he had spent months crafting. 

Vil didn’t respond, watching with mixed feelings as he zoomed in on your determined face. Setting the mirror down he leaned into the armchair as he pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Technically yes. Usually, the fairy godparent should have done everything within their power to assure their success…”

Epel grimaced, “But we don’t want that, do we?” 

At Vil’s silence, Epel went on grazing his fingers along your face on one of the framed photos. 

“We…don’t keep them if they make it back, right? So we should want them to fail…so we shouldn’t help right?”

Vil exasperatedly sighed as he looked at the decor of the home. He scoffed lightly, threading his gloved hands through his hair as he let a defeated smile grace his face. 

“But we love them so dearly, we can’t help but want the best for (Y/n). That little Minx.”

Playfully cursing at you as he watched you through the glass of his all-seeing mirror. Epel returned to his side looking over his shoulder with a look Vil couldn’t pinpoint.

“But what if–the situation with the prince, right? It’s not going to get better, right? Then maybe we can have them then?”

“In exchange for saving them from a forced marriage and protecting their family?.... That’s incredibly dubious Epel. It breaks every rule in the fairy book.”

The petite boy smiled playfully wagging his wand. 

“But we’re not fairies are we?”

Vil couldn’t help but cackle laugh alongside his junior’s snickers. Before turning back to the mirror with a settled mind and a happy smile.

“Then it's settled, we'll let them return home in time. Successfully complete the payment and we collect our darling during the next tragedy. Are we all in agreement?”

With vigor, he’d never had towards Vil before he shouted, “Yeah!” 

“Hold on…Where’s Rook?”

__________________________________________________________

You should have been in the clear, a straight shot home would be the end of this night. But whatever small objects whizzing by you on your ride might be telling a different story. You took the backroads surrounded by the woods to keep your pursuers off your trail. Looking in your rearview mirror, you found no lights that said otherwise, and yet why did it feel as though you were still being chased? 

You didn’t want to turn off the road but when you felt the break of wind again, you heard the hissing of one of your tires. As quickly as you could you turned back to the main road, finally coming to a stop when you made it to the shopping square. 

Getting up from the toppled motorbike to inspect the flat tire expecting to find some small puncture. Instead, you dug through the larger hole to pull out an arrowhead. Immediately you stood up, frantically looking around until you witnessed a flaming arrow landing on your fallen bike. 

Backing away from the growing inferno you could finally see the faint outline of a shadowy pursuer. In the darkness of the night, they reeled their arm back and released after another arrow seemed to fly by you. Without another thought, you took off ducking under closed stalls and parked cars as you made your way to the only place you could think of where you could hijack a motorbike. 

“Sorry, Trey!”

You quite easily rigged his motorcycle to run after locking the door of the bakery’s private parking lot. As the banging against the door intensified, it had you working fast and you couldn’t help but thank Deuce for his bad egg era. Mounting the motorcycle you waited until your assailant broke down the door, before firing away through the door and over the guy. 

You didn’t bother looking for the identity of the masked individual or if they were getting up again. Continuing on your route you flashed a look at the radio clock on the motorcycle, speeding as much as you can. It was a small window but you could make it! 

______________________________________________________

With minutes to spare you, crashed the motorcycle into the cobblestone of the estate’s entryway climbing your porch and quickly unlocking the door to your home. Stumbling in, you hardly noticed your disintegrating garments returning you to your comfy attire. Bent over and heaving on your knees you took a minute to compose yourself.

“...Congratulations (Y/n). Saving your step-father and returning all in one night is no easy feat.”

“Good job, (Y/n) we knew you could do it!”

Light-headed and heart still beating erratically you gave a lopsided smile to them both, puffing your chest and putting your hands on the backside of your hips.

“All…in…a day’s work. Whoo.”

Suddenly feeling a wave of tiredness come over you, letting your eyes droop and your shoulders sag. Looking down in a startling realization you could feel the light quake of your legs whether from fear or exhaustion from holding you up; you decided on one thing. 

“I’m really tired.”

Vil gave a knowing smile as he stepped toward you, putting a warm hand on the middle of your back he let you lean into his touch. Holding you against himself, he let his arm curl around holding you close as he guided you up the stairs and to your room. It didn’t matter to you then that there was no hesitation before opening your door. 

Laying you delicately into the mattress, his face brushing against yours raised no alarm only vaguely tickling your nerves as you welcomed the plush of your pillow. Vil was speaking to you, something important indeed but your body didn’t care. Already filling your vision with splotches of black and your eyelids filling the space; you melted into the warmth of your bed. 

“--When that time comes all of you is mine.”

_____________________________________________

 Waking to the muffled angry cries and pawing of a frustrated cat, was a jarring start to your morning. It didn’t help that your body ached and throbbed with the unprepared tension of the night before. With great struggle you raised your lead-heavy limbs from the bed, dragging your feet as you dressed quickly. Just a brush of your teeth, a wash to the face, and putting on your robe—far too tired to change out of your comfy clothes. When you opened your door the cat sped past your slippers; hissing at the state before rubbing himself all over the surface. 

“Why are you so miffed it's not like I…had anyone over.”

When you woke you were too caught up with the pain to recall the madness of the night before. Fairy helpers. Magic clothes and a motorcycle. Antidotes to poison. Escaping royalty. A hunter with arrows. It was a timeline of an action movie all of which you didn’t have time to register before now. 

“Oh gosh, Trey’s bike!” 

Forgoing feeding the cat you ran down the stairs and out the door, dreading that’d you’d find the wreckage you vaguely remember. To your horror the motorbike was twisted in an odd angle, scrapes all over its details, and a concerning amount of arrows lodged into the tires. 

“Trey I am so sorry.”

Already preparing for the shifts at the bakery you’d be willing to pick up or any outlandish favor he could come up with in exchange. Letting out a defeated sigh you waved a dismissive hand before heading back inside. Looking for anything out of place you took your time scanning the living room trying to spot a stray footprint or glitter coming up short.

“Hey!” You looked to the stairwell seeing an angry Ace, trailed by Deuce stomping his way down the steps.

“What d’ya think you were doing?! Trashing my room like you did and then showing up to the ball you not to go to!?”

“I didn’t trash your room. And it was an absolute emergency.”

“Well, couldn’t you have an emergency quietly?! You literally wore the craziest outfit—”

“I thought y-you looked really nice.”

“Thanks, Deuce.”

“And got the prince’s attention! The exact person we were trying to avoid!”

“I told you: it was an emergency!” “Oh yeah?! And was getting Deuce beat up worth it?”

“Sorry but yeah. And what about you Casanova you got to dance with the prince?”

“Shut. It.”

Ace continued to complain but you stopped listening looking around for the one this was all for. Pushing past those two to open the doors of Trein’s study. For a moment there was fear, that the poison was not cured or that the antidote was the opposite of what you’d hoped. That you’re dearest stepfather would not be standing there. That he’d be in the coroner’s office having his case dismissed on the Royal family’s behalf.

But he was there. Standing healthy and firm as he looked at something small nearly invisible. Having heard you come in he squashes it between his fingers turning to you with fondness.

“Judging by the bike outside you had quite the night.”

You chuckled, “I did? I don’t know about that, I wasn’t the one whose life was on the line.” 

Mozus gave a look of disbelief before accepting a hug from you. You were happy the night had gone the way it did if it meant saving your dearest dad.  Neither of you pulled away as Ace barged in pointing his finger as he was still attempting to berate you. Stopping when he saw neither of you pulls away.

“What is this? A fluffy party? Don’t think just cause you're hugging him doesn’t mean I’m going to get all fuzzy with you!?”

“Don’t get all pissy just because I’m getting hugs!” 

“I’m not–” “Did you say hugs? I want in.”

Trein opened the hug, extending a hand to Deuce. Who eagerly pushes past his brother to accept the invitation.

“You may join us, just watch your strength. It would be problematic if you injured (Y/n).”

“Right!” 

“He doesn’t want to say it but he’s scared you’ll break his broken back even more.”

“(Y/n).”

“I promise to be gentle pops!”

“I’m not made of glass.”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“Ace…”

“...Whatever. I’m only coming over because you sad saps won’t stop looking at me like that.”

In a suffocating heap, you hugged your family; relishing in the asynchronous beating of their hearts. It was comforting–their obvious signs of warmth even as they all departed on the pretext of it being too hot, brought a smile to your face.

You did it. They were safe.

The startling knocking on the door broke the moment causing all of you to snap your heads toward the source. With a pensive sigh and shake of your head, you went for the door giving a guilty face to their curious looks.

“No doubt probably Trey who's about to hound me for his bike.”

So sure you swung the door open fully expecting to see an angry green-haired baker. Only to be overcome with dread as you recognized the royal colors decorating the uniforms of the prince and his entourage.

“You’ll have to excuse us (Y/n) (L/n). We have some business with you.”

In no time at all the prince had lazily sprawled himself on an armchair and his guards on the couch, leaving Mozus to take the only other chair in the room. After closing the door on the growing crowd of onlookers you stood dutifully next to Ace and Deuce who stood on both sides of the armchair. Mozus spoke with a pensive bow.

“Your Highness it's an honor. To what do we owe the pleasure?”

The prince was still leaning comfortably in the chair, resting his boots on the coffee table in between. The scrawnier attendant spoke, who you vaguely recalled somehow attempting to stop you.

“His Highness is more than captivated by the daisy, who left the celebration all too soon.”

Their hungry eyes were all on you to which you fumbled your rebuttal. 

“A-are you by chance talking about Ace?”

Deuce caught your wandering gaze, shaping his lips into an ‘o’ before joining you. 

“Oh yes, I-i saw that His Highness shared a lovely dance with our precious Ace. Did you perhaps fall head over heels in love with him?”

You held in a snicker and so did the slim attendant, doing a terrible job silencing his amusement behind his hands. The prince seemed to growl as he sent a glare in Deuce’s direction who immediately shrunk back in some sort of reprimand. As if intending to break the tension the burly attendant spoke, who you now recalled was the one Deuce tackled for your sake.

“Who we are referring to is (Y/n) (L/n) and as you’ve deduced His Highness is formally asking for your hand.”

A strong silence fell over your family. A collective horror gripping your hearts.

“What if…I planned to refuse?”

Deuce and Ace released a gasp and Mozus turned to look at you, heart aching at the sweat that beaded your brow. The attendants sent a look toward one another before looking to the Prince who sat unbothered, before laughing out loud. It was a scornful laugh. A laugh that made your cheeks burn with stupidity. As if what you had proposed was so outlandish that you might as well paint your face, wear bells on your head, and become a jester. 

His laughing stopped as he brought his feet off the table; placing his elbows on his knees and carding his fingers to rest along his chin. Emerald eyes narrowed and challenging he spoke with a rumbling authority.

“Do you think it's a good idea to refuse me? I know you’re not stupid (Y/n). Would you rather be married without any family, prospects, or a clean record? Or would you rather come happily into the royal family without our behest?”

“But you're still threatening me–”

“And? I’m being nice with all the running you’ve been doing from me. I love a good chase but I’m about tired of pushing past these obstacles. And I’m about to knock them down. Permanently.”

The message was clear. 

Your family’s protective streak for you was being tested. And so was your own will. More than anything you would have loved to hide behind your father and brothers. But that would be folly against someone who truly had no problem getting rid of your family. It wouldn’t do much to refuse…even if it killed you to lose your freedom to this. 

Mozus stood up, angrily gripping the armrests of his chair as he dangerously turned red. Ace and Deuce mirrored his actions more than ready to be thrown into action. So were the attendants who seemed to be waiting for the chance to spring into action.

You have to diffuse this.

You need time to think.

“Dad… it's okay…please.”

With a hand on his shoulder, you guided him back into his seat before turning to the smirking prince. 

“I…will…need a minute.”

You didn’t wait for him to answer dashing past Deuce and Ace as you ran into the nearby room: the study. Having half a mind not to cry you began to pace. What could you do? What could be done? The cards have been set and you had the losing hand. All you could do was to give in. And after all, you’d gone through? For the hero you were before, it would all mean nothing. 

Even with the force of magic that you’re family had, you couldn’t expect novices and one senior to protect against an army. No. If it was magic you’d need something stronger. Something that has proven to give results. To be a definite victory for you and your family. Kind of like…your fairy helpers.

“I had a feeling you’d need me.”

You turned to see Vil in all his radiant, glittery glory smiling as pridefully as he did before. You ran up to him with a conviction and helpless plea, fully prepared to beg on your knees if you had to. 

“Vil…the prince he– he said if I didn’t marry him willingly he’d hurt them–but I really don’t want to sign my life away to that horrible brainless—Do you have anything that can help me?! Or just some way where I can guarantee that my family will be safe?”

A warm hand rubbed against your back and the smell of cedar filled your nose. It reminded you of that one fellow…

“Ohhh~ pauvre biche, Vil we must offer our help!” 

There was something about the way he said it. The sing-songy tone that was typical for him had a hint of mocking nature. But surely that was out of understanding perhaps it was something of a minor problem for fairies such as them or that it was all an act in the first place.

“Yeah, Vil, (Y/n)’s our friend we’ve got to help them.”

Epel was on your other side letting his shoulder touch yours in a form of support as he looked to Vil. Seemingly convinced Vil pulls a vile from his pocket. The solution glows a sparkling purple that flashes gradients of green. It was alluring to simply glance at.

“Alright then (Y/n) I have a proposal for you: you drink this and your family will be safe from any others who may wish to harm them,” You opened your mouth to agree, stopping when a gloved finger pushes against your lips. 

Vil continues, “But you must agree to accept the journey that comes with it. “

Your eyebrow rose with a question on your tongue only to be stopped by more fingers on your lips. 

“I can’t elaborate on that further. All I can say is that we’d be with you the whole way and no one. No one will ever threaten you again.”

It was your choice.

“To concede or thrive? Mon filou, what will you choose?”

“You’ll make the right choice (Y/n)~! I’m sure of it.”

You held your gaze on the swirling solution in the vile. 

It was up to you.

[upon-a-starry-night]

Number Neighbors Part 12

Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Natasha Masterlist Series Masterlist

Word Count: 2k

Summary:  When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?

----

You wouldn’t call yourself a totally hopeless romantic, but when Leon showed up at your door dressed to the T, holding roses, and asking you out with a charming smirk you nearly swooned.

You placed the flowers in a vase on your kitchen counter where they would probably stay long after they wilted. You took note of how long it even took you to find an actual vase in your place, not to mention how dusty it was.

Modern ‘dating’ has drowned out so much romance these days.

It had been so long since you went on a date you forgot how nice it felt to get out of the house with other people, how nice it felt to be the center of someone's attention and admiration. You wouldn’t say you craved it necessarily but you definitely lacked a lot of social interaction. Not to mention you were 100% touch-starved.

Leon picked you up and took you out to see a movie, it was an unconventional first date but you didn’t mind. Especially not when he held your hand and bought you expensive movie theater snacks. It was cute and simple. It wasn’t like you were expecting a whole lot.

On the way there the two of you got to know each other better, you found out his mother had died 4 years ago and that he had been helping his dad with the restaurant ever since. 

You felt so much respect for him that he’d stuck by his father to help him.

The two of you played 20 questions for most of the car ride, learning simple things about each other like favorite movies, preferred colors, and biggest dreams

It eased a lot of the anxiety you’d been feeling since he picked you up.

Thankfully he didn’t seem to notice how nervous you were and if your palms were sweaty in his, he never commented on it. 

The movie was a comedy that you enjoyed, although you kept getting distracted by Leon playfully stealing your popcorn. 

You were so used to doing things by yourself that you forgot how fun simple things were with other people. 

You really should try to make more friends. 

Your train of thought drifted to Nat a lot of times throughout the night. For some reason, you kept wondering if she would enjoy doing things like this with you. You let yourself indulge in your fantasy for a moment, pretending that Leon was Nat and that you two were meeting up for the first time but not the last time. It wasn’t a bad date but you found it felt better when you imagined Nat there.

You felt less nervous.

It almost got to the point where a joke was made in the movie about spies and you turned to laugh with Nat about the inside joke, only to find Leon with his eyes trained on the screen.

You were the only one in the theater who had laughed.

You shook the thoughts out of your head. Here Leon was treating you to a nice movie and you’re thinking about someone else. 

The rest of the date you tried to focus on Leon and the movie but now there was a distinct feeling of something missing. 

You hated how easily Nat could take over your brain lately, and how much hope and happiness you got from imagining her with you everywhere.

It was becoming a problem so much that you really did begin taking her with you everywhere.

When you went to the grocery store there she was telling you sassily that you should eat more than frozen pizza and chicken nuggets. 

(An argument you’d had over text many times)

When you went to the library she was there telling you to pick out books other than romance novels

Everywhere you went she was there commenting on things

Always faceless but wearing that same red t-shirt from the photo she sent you.

You didn’t realize just how much she had begun to infiltrate your life until now. 

In a way, it comforted you. 

If you couldn’t have the real thing then maybe you could live with Imaginary Nat.

When Leon dropped you off at your apartment you kissed him on the cheek and entered your apartment with a smiling face, immediately opening your phone to text Nat about the whole ordeal. She was quick to text back, she had been more responsive since your break from each other. 

And sassier than ever as well

          Nat🔪:

Nat🔪: 

A Movie? Really?

Y/n🍦:

Shut up it was cute

He held my hand and bought me popcorn

Nat🔪:

Wow.

I’m teeming with jealousy.

Y/n🍦:

It was a first date

Nothing's perfect on a first date.

Nat🔪:

Whoever told you that was a liar.

C’mon, you can’t be serious about that…

Y/n🍦:

I don’t think I’ve ever had a perfect first date

Nat🔪:

Then you’ve been with all the wrong people Y/n.

Y/n🍦:

Where would you take someone on a first date?

She took a while to type, the three dots appearing and disappearing numerous times. You took the spare time to get ready for bed and change into your pajamas. You hopped into bed, reveling in the warmth that the covers brought you. 

Nat🔪:

Depends on the person

Y/n🍦:

Did you take all that time to type that?

What were you thinking before you pressed backspace?

Nat🔪:

Well a date idea for you - based on what you’ve 

told me about yourself-

Probably a rooftop picnic. 

Y/n🍦:

Oh?

You hadn’t been on a picnic in a long time. Going on one did sound nice actually…

Nat🔪:

Since you never get out of the house 

Y/n🍦: 

Hey! I get out enough!

Nat🔪:

Maybe I’d bring a game or some paints, 

You can learn a lot about someone by what they 

Paint on a first date.

Then I’d probably want to walk around 

with you for a bit just to listen to you talk.

Then I’d take you out stargazing. You seem like the type.

Hypothetically, of course.

You threw your phone onto your bed and turned to scream into your pillow. It really was not fair how suave Nat could be sometimes. And how were you supposed to gush about your date when she just made up a much better hypothetical date? You were pretty sure you were blushing more at her idea than you had all night with Leon.

Y/n🍦:

Hypothetically you’re right.

That sounds like a dream

Are you speaking from experience?

You were trying to prepare yourself for if the answer was yes, you had to admit you’d be pretty jealous of whoever got that date. Although you think you’d probably be jealous of anyone going out with Nat, she seems like the type of person to treat her partner right.

You tried not to let your brain go down that path.

Nat🔪:

All of that was specific to you, Y/n.

I wouldn’t do that with anyone else

Screw it, all of your apprehension went out of the window. What were you supposed to say to that?

You immediately began imagining the date Nat described, your favorite foods sprawled across a stereotypical red and white blanket as you looked over the city. Walking around Central Park for hours, finally talking to Nat in person and hearing what her laugh sounded like. Driving away from central New York to the outskirts of town where you can see a million stars. It all sounded like the perfect day. 

And when you tried to imagine it with Leon or anyone else it just didn’t feel quite right.

But you would never get that with her.

So even though it made your heart flutter and your stomach flip you pushed out the thoughts of you and Nat together.

Even if you really wanted to be. 

Shit, You were so in over your head.

~~~

Normally showers were your happy place but You’d practically freaked out when Leon told you your next date would be at a fancy expensive restaurant down the street. You’d passed by it so many times and wondered what the inside looked like but you never thought you’d actually eat there. It made you exponentially nervous.

The types of people you saw going in there were nothing like you.

And if you were honest, you weren’t sure you wanted to be anything like them.

But Leon was treating you and it was such a classic date idea, especially in the movies.

You couldn’t just say no.

Briefly, you wondered if Nat was the kind of person to enjoy expensive restaurants. The thought of her sparked an idea in your head:

Maybe Nat could help you out.

You finished cleaning up and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around your body and quickly wiping your fingers on it to grab your phone.

You paused the soft music you’d been playing and opened the messages app.

Pausing to reread and huff out a laugh at your previous messages. 

Something about Nat complaining about not getting any privacy with her roommates. Something you only recently found out she had.

               Nat🔪:

Y/n🍦:

Emergency!

Nat’s responses were immediate and you almost felt bad for phrasing your text so urgently

Nat🔪:

What?

What is it

Are you okay?

Y/n🍦:

I don’t have anything to wear 😫

Nat🔪:

I’m blocking you.

Y/n🍦:

Natttt 

I need your help

Please

Nat?

Where’d you go?

Nat🔪:

You can no longer send messages to this number

Y/n🍦:

That’s not the real blocked message.

You pathological liar. At least make it believable.

For real I need your help

Nat🔪:

Why is this such a big deal?

Y/n🍦:

I have to wear something fancy to this restaurant

Leon is taking me to.

It’s called Sharp Cuisine

Nat🔪:

Fancy?

That’s not very you

Didn't you two literally meet in a diner?

Y/n🍦:

Hey, I’ll never say no to free food.

Nat🔪:

How can he even afford a place like that?

Y/n🍦:

Maybe he has connections?

Nat🔪:

If that’s the case have fun eating

In the storage closet

Y/n🍦: 

I’m so stressed out, I don’t

Go out enough to have fancy outfits.

I think there’s dust on my clubbing outfit…

Nat🔪:

That’s depressing.

Dates aren’t meant to be stressful Y/n.

Maybe you should tell him?

Y/n🍦:

He already made reservations 

Not everyone is as romantic as you Nat.

I wish.

Nat🔪:

Fine, show me your options.

Y/n🍦:

Thank God

I Love you (Deleted)

I owe you!

~

When you’d gotten to the restaurant you were still self-conscious but you felt a lot better in the outfit Nat helped you pick, along with the accessories she told you would pair with it perfectly.

Halfway through the -honestly average dinner a fancy server approached you with a plate. Your favorite dessert sat prettily decorated and you stared in awe. Worried you might start drooling soon you turned to Leon to thank him only for him to turn to the waiter with concern etched onto his features

“Sorry but, I didn’t order this”

You furrowed your eyebrows, disappointment settling at the fact that the server probably delivered it to the wrong table

“I’m well aware sir, someone came in and told us to give it to someone named Y/n?”

You perked up at that, something hopeful and curious stirring inside your chest

“I’m Y/n” The waiter turned his attention to you, nodding his head slightly as if to say he already knew

“Yes I was given a description of your dress” He places the dessert next to your half-eaten meal and then hands you a note written on a napkin and walks away to serve another table.

You took a bite out of the sugary dish and nearly moaned at how good it was, after a few more bites you finally looked down and read the note written in pretty but precise handwriting.

“I have connections too. Enjoy your dessert, Y/n ;) ~ Nat”

Your heart nearly stopped in your chest,

She was here.

Pt.13

-Writing Leon and Y/n scenes is literally sooo hard for me I’m sorry- that’s why they might b boring~ Starry

---Taglist--

@marvelwomen-simp @cd-4848 @wandanatlov3r @rebeltombraider @ctrlamira @fxckmiup @aliherreraaa @natsxwife @la-douler-ne-finite-jamais @romanoffsgal @moistblobfish @natashaswife4125 @elenimoris @how-to-disappearrr @screechcat @toouncreativeforausername @ordelixx

[lefaystrent]

Me, Myself, and These Guys Who Kinda Look Like Me Ch. 7

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Pairings: Thomas/The Sides

Summary: It starts with dreams. Then Thomas starts seeing the dream people in the waking world.

Thomas doesn't know how to bring it up to anybody or if he even should at this point.

AKA, Thomas has to acknowledge the six colorful characters in the room, much to their long-awaited delight.

Ao3 Link: click here

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I believe you wanted a conversation? Let's talk."

And so they do.

Rules are established to assist with boundaries, and in the days that follow, they are adjusted as they adapt.

Rule number one: Thomas's bedroom is a sacred temple. When the door is shut, no one shall utilize incorporeal states of being to trespass. Anyone may knock as needed, but it's up to Thomas if he'd like company. Likewise, if the door is open, it is understood that company is welcome.

Seems simple enough, right?

Thomas wakes up to the sound of his bedroom door creaking open. He scrubs the sleep from his eyes, peering at the alarm clock to see he's been asleep all of three hours.

"Whass it?" Thomas mumbles and pushes up clumsily. He thinks something must be wrong, or that he must not have heard a knock. Maybe he's dreaming. Wouldn't be the first time that he thought he woke up in a dream.

The door practically slams closed.

"Eh?"

Is he...being spied on? What did they want? Who was it? Why did they have to wake him? Can he lay back down and go to sleep? Wow, that was loud. And rude. Or something's wrong. What's wrong? Was he having a nightmare? He thinks he was having a nightmare. There was a math test involved. Ew.

The door opens again, wider this time. Virgil hovers in the doorway, shoulders hiked up to his ears and shame-faced.

"I am so sorry," he blurts out. "I didn't mean to do that. Or wake you. I'll go."

"No, no, what's wrong?" Thomas calls back before the door can close. Sleep dust cakes his eyes, but he's got half a brain functioning. He can tell something's off.

"It's stupid," Virgil deflects, as if that is a compelling defense.

"S'not stupid. What's up, buttercup?"

Wow, Thomas really is only half awake. The only reason his head hasn't reacquainted itself with his pillow is because of his propped-up arm. His eyes don't get the memo. They droop down, closed.

Virgil doesn't answer.

Huh.

Thomas has a sneaking suspicion he'll have to open his eyes again.

"Virge?"

"I, uh, I was just checking on you. In case anyone was trying to break in. Or if you had fallen. Or if there was a gas leak. There could be a gas leak right now. You never know, ya know?"

"...eh?"

"Anyway, I'm dumb, go back to sleep dude. Sorry."

And the door shuts once more, more mindful this time.

If it had just been Virgil, Thomas thinks he could have puzzled through it. Clearly Virgil is the anxious sort. After the fire incident, Virgil has insisted on being present whenever cooking is involved. Even if he's not the one cooking, he wants to watch like a hawk. It's like his own personal lifeguard, but on land. In his house. This is a perfect analogy.

Thomas can hella relate to having anxiety. Most people, when they meet Thomas, mistake him for being an extrovert. And that can be an exhausting image to keep up, but Thomas is an actor after all. Regardless, he wants to cut Virgil some slack. With the installment of the new rules, he's having trouble adjusting, and that's okay. It's all part of the learning process.

Virgil confides that sometimes he would check on Thomas in the middle of the night (or day, curse Thomas's sleeping habits) to soothe his random bursts of paranoia. Thomas sympathizes, he does. If something happens to Thomas and he dies, what happens to the dream people? Where do they go?

It's not just Virgil though. Roman and Remus keep forgetting about the knocking rule.

Thomas dives headfirst back into work the first chance he gets. He sits at his desk in his bedroom, screen displaying a script. It's the final countdown so to speak, and Thomas is delaying the inevitable because the perfectionist in him tells him it's not good enough. There's something missing. It could be better. It can always be better.

"You should throw in a 'Mean Girls' reference there at the end."

Thomas glances towards the bottom of the script. He tilts his head. "Yeah, you're right, I could wear a pink shirt."

"Exactly."

It takes a moment, but Thomas frowns and looks to his right where Roman is reading the script happily over his shoulder.

"I thought I had my door closed..."

The faint smile on Roman's face freezes. His body tenses so hard Thomas can almost feel it vicariously. "Uh...yeaaah."

"Roman."

"...I may have forgotten you can see us."

"..."

"...how mad are you?"

Thomas isn't mad. He understands that it will take time. For years they've lived a certain way. He doesn't expect things to change overnight. However, this has to be corrected. In order to do that, Thomas has to be firm in the boundaries he's set.

Thomas takes one look at Roman's obvious dejection and caves hard.

"Do you want to help me edit the rest?" he asks.

Enforcing boundaries is difficult, okay?! Really, he has no one to blame but himself. He's a sucker. A big softie sucker.

When he discusses this with Logan, the man comforts him by parsing out the reasons behind why he struggles to say no.

"Give me an example," Logan instructs.

"Well, just last night I was laying in bed trying to go to sleep... okay I might have been scrolling on my phone. But anyway! I was in bed, and then the closet door opened."

"Remus?"

"Remus."

"He has a fascination with closets that baffles me beyond comprehension."

"I've noticed. It was kinda spooky at first, which I think was the point. But he ended up coming out and started talking to me."

"Was that all? Sorry, that sounded dismissive, let me rephrase. Is that the only actions he took?"

"Uh...pretty much? He sat beside my bed on the floor and just talked about random things. Like dolphins and Catholicism."

"He has a rather stream of consciousness mentality to the way he jumps from one topic to the other. I believe he only wished to engage you in conversation, albeit at an inopportune time."

"Yeah..."

"Based on the context of this conversation, I guess that you allowed that conversation to continue without interruption?"

Thomas did. He had put down his phone and it invigorated Remus to have Thomas's undivided attention. It's like he'd been saving up years' worth of ideas for this moment.

And Thomas... Thomas didn't want to take that away from him.

"Yeah, I did," Thomas admits meekly, as if he'd been in the wrong. Was it so wrong of him?

Janus sweeps by them on his way to peruse Thomas's book collection. Thomas would think it's an excuse to eavesdrop if Janus hadn't been spending the past few days with his nose in a book. At the very least, he may be taking his sweet time going about it, thumbing through the options.

Janus does indeed reveal he's been listening by commenting, "You're not going to offend him if you tell him to go away, if that's what you're worried about."

"That's not..." Thomas rubs his knuckles together. He squints his eyes as if that will reveal his feelings better. "I don't want to tell anyone to go away."

Janus shrugs and doesn't say anything further. His silence rattles Thomas more than what he could say. It leaves him thinking on it more.

Logan taps at his chin and Thomas waits for him to make sense of this for him. "Perhaps not to go away then. If it is reframed more politely as you saying, 'I am interested in this topic, but as I am busy at the moment, could we discuss this at a later time?' Would that be preferential?"

Still no. Thomas shakes his head.

"What do you believe would happen if you did say something along those lines?"

Thomas imagines it. He imagines cutting off Remus. How it would kill the light in his eyes. He thinks of pushing Roman out of his room. How he'd feel betrayed after Thomas promised to entertain his dreams. He pictures Virgil at his door, Thomas snapping at him to leave him alone. How Virgil would think he doesn't appreciate him.

"I don't want to make them feel bad," Thomas says at length. "And I don't want them to hate me."

Logan places a hand on his shoulder. It's solid and grounding, and for a moment Logan is almost distracted by the contact but pushes through it.

"Remember what we discussed the other day? And how Virgil verbalized a similar fear? That he was afraid you would hate us? You are jumping to a false conclusion and imagining the worst-case scenario. This is known as catastrophizing."

"Besides that," Janus adds, comparing two books in his hands, "if voicing what makes you uncomfortable makes someone upset, then they obviously only care about their own self-interests."

Logan nods in agreement. "For relationships to succeed, communication must take place in some form. If you struggle to verbalize your needs, I would like to propose an alternative."

The proposal is Thomas's stuffed bear Benjamin.

It's wonderfully simple, if a little silly. Whenever one of them has forgotten themselves and phase through a door or wall they should not have, Thomas hands them the bear. It's a wordless gesture that says, "I see you, I'm not mad at you, this is just a reminder." Surprisingly, everyone is supportive of the idea.

Maybe a little too supportive. They are so eager to not overstep into Thomas's life that they frequently overcompensate. As Benjamin becomes an accepted part of Thomas expressing his need for space, Thomas picks up on how much the others are reluctant to voice their need for space. Or their wants in general.

"You guys can come to me if you need anything," Thomas had told them during their heart-to-heart the other day. "If there's anything I can do for you, just let me know."

They said sure.

They didn't lie. They're just afraid.

The most Thomas has gotten out of them is Logan and Roman expressing interest in aiding Thomas with meal prep. It's okay now and then, but Thomas makes it clear that it's not necessary and that he absolutely should still be responsible in making his own meals occasionally or order takeout. Logan sketches out a weekly schedule to assist in everyone's expectations, and Roman lists all of the recipes he would like to try.

It's not that fair though. It's for Thomas. The others can't exactly eat.

Or....can they?

"I know you guys don't need to, but have you tried eating?" Thomas asks them. They're sitting at the dining table, a notebook between them.

"Many a time," Roman says. "Every time you eat cookies, Patton tries to steal some. And don't get me started on when you bring donuts home. Logan-"

Logan butts in, "Ahem, Thomas doesn't need that many details, thank you Roman," He fidgets with the pen in his hands, tapping it against the wired spirals of the notebook.

Roman jerks his head in Logan's direction while giving Thomas a look that screams Logan would very much like to try a donut.

Thomas holds back a grin. "But what about lately? Since you guys can touch things better now."

Logan shares a glance with Roman. "There's no need. We don't feel hunger. However..."

"Is it possible?" Roman ties into his thoughts.

"To what end? Do we have a working digestive tract? Could the food be converted to energy? Or would it phase through us at a certain point?"

"There's only one way to find out."

Thomas gets up to scrounge around his kitchen. He thinks he should really go grocery shopping soon; he's running low on quick snacks. He settles for some pretzel sticks and returns to the table.

"Who wants to go first?" he asks.

Logan gestures to the bag for Roman, showing he would rather observe. Roman plucks the pretzel bag from Thomas's hands and stares at the packaging curiously. Cautiously, he removes the clamp sealing it closed and pulls out a stick.

"Can you smell it?" Logan asks.

Roman's face pinches in minor disgust. "Why would I smell it? I'm supposed to taste it, Sub-astute Teacher."

"Smell is entwined with the ability to taste. Without it, perception of flavors would be extremely limited."

"Oh, well," Roman says and gives the stick a whiff. Then he gives it a bigger whiff.

"Anything?"

"I guess? It's different. I don't think pretzel sticks have a strong smell anyway, do they?"

"Go ahead and try it."

Roman nibbles the stick. They observe his jaw movements and listen to the muffled crunching of his teeth. He chews mechanically, much longer than anyone would need to. His brows raise just about to his hairline as he swallows.

"It's salty!" he announces excitedly. "I hate it! I can taste it! And I hate it!"

Roman tosses the rest of the stick in his mouth and plunders into the bag for more. Thomas and Logan watch incredulously as he polishes off the whole bag. Roman never stops telling them about how horrible they taste. He finishes the bag and smacks his mouth.

"Ugh, it's so dry!"

Thomas wordlessly retrieves Roman a cup of juice. Roman gleefully downs the glass in one go.

"That's so much better! What is this? It's so sweet!"

"Apple juice?"

"I love apple juice! Logan! I love apple juice!"

"Yes, I have gathered."

"I must tell all of my friends about this!"

That evening, they gather round the kitchen with everyone to taste test everything in Thomas's fridge and cabinets. If Thomas needed to go grocery shopping before, he certainly needs to after this. They have no limits to their stomach capacities. Patton eats a giant stack of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and claims he feels no fuller for the effort. Virgil scarfs down an entire tub of rocky road ice cream with such feral intensity that he's left abashed after.

"It was okay, I guess," Virgil says too nonchalantly.

"Who let this raccoon in here?" Janus comments, to which Virgil hisses.

"If we can eat things now, does that mean we'll need to shit?" Remus questions. He's found the pickle jar and is sharing with Logan. They seem to enjoy salty/sour flavors more. "Because then Virgil's gonna have the shits later."

"That was an intolerable amount of lactose," Logan agrees.

Roman whines in protest through a mouth full of pizza, "Must you speak of such crass things while we're eating?"

"It's not like we're real humans," Virgil says, but looks doubtfully at the empty ice cream container while holding his tummy.

Janus has discovered the beauty of wine and has been sipping religiously at a glass. "Real enough to eat."

"Are you feeling the effects of the alcohol?" Logan pauses to wonder.

"I don't think so, but I'm nothing if not determined."

"Spitters are quitters," Remus says, finding some kind of relevance with that train of thought to the current context. When Virgil smirks and says something about professionals gargling, Roman screeches like a banshee. Thomas thinks that is the point of Virgil's interference. He shares a fist bump with Remus.

"Anyway, back to our shit talking," Remus says peppily. Roman's face turns an impressive shade of red.

Janus snickers into his glass, "Oh I am here for shit talking. Who are we shit talking about?"

"Your mom!"

"How very original, Remus."

"Is it okay if I eat the rest of this peanut butter?" Patton asks Thomas. There's not much left in the jar anyway.

Thomas smiles. "Go for it, buddy."

Patton does a happy little shuffle dance and goes to town. The others go back to questioning if they will need to start using the bathroom now. Thomas asks what Patton thinks, since they're standing by each other and he hasn't been talking much.

Patton nods slowly, sagely. "Everybody poops."

As much as Roman is hilariously uncomfortable with the topic, everyone does share a curiosity to the limits of their corporealness. For the rest of the evening, they keep checking in with each other. "Need to poop yet?" "No, you?" "Nah, need to pee?" "Nah, but how would we know?" "It'd be instinctive." "You're instinctive." "Remus, please desist."

Thomas can confidentially say that he's never been a part of a more bizarre conversational topic.

For those at home wondering, none of them ever felt the urge to go. They are left to surmise that the food and drinks they ingest are entirely utilized with no leftover waste. Furthermore, alcohol has no affect, much to Janus's dismay. It doesn't stop him from trying.

Beyond food, Thomas tries to encourage the others to ask him for things they want. Something as simple as watching a movie is a challenge. If they sit down together to pick a movie, it always comes back to what does Thomas want to watch. And even when Thomas isn't watching TV or doing anything with his electronics, they will jump up from them as if electrocuted and ask him if he'd like the TV or computer.

Patton's the worst about it. Thomas nearly felt bad about telling him, "No, I'm good, you can keep watching whatever." It's like he can't believe he isn't monopolizing Thomas's belongings. So they get into "nice-offs" where they're trying to be courteous to each other. "No, you can." "No, you, I insist!" That sort of thing. There's an edge of panic to Patton when he does this.

If only this were as easy as handing him a stuffed bear.

After a few times, Thomas can't stand to see him this way and finally grabs the offered tv remote out of his hands. The brief relief that washes over Patton is replaced by confusion when Thomas sets the remote on the coffee table. Then confusion transforms into astonishment as Thomas grabs one of his hands in both of his.

"Patton, you're okay," Thomas tells him. "You're allowed to enjoy yourself. I don't always need the tv, and whenever I do want it, I promise I'll let you know."

Patton stares so hard at their joined hands that Thomas wonders if he can hear him. They haven't held hands since that day Patton cried. Haven't touched either. Thomas suspects...no, he knows it's a sore subject. He knows with Patton, and most of the others, maybe all of them? They've lacked human touch for so long that they don't know what to do with themselves whenever they receive it. They must crave it. Hell, Janus was brought to tears because Thomas touched his face.

It's another process though, another adjustment. It's a lot of responsibility placed on Thomas for these people he's just starting to know. He likes them, he does. He's caught off guard sometimes by how much he enjoys their company, the sparks they bring to his life as he learns more about them. It's not a bad thing by any means.

Thomas holds Patton's hand and hopes this is a good step. He caresses the top of Patton's hand with a thumb, and Patton's eyes flick, watching the movement.

"You're the priority though," Patton says softly, at a loss.

Thomas's heart breaks for them.

He leads Patton by the hand back to the couch. They sit together and Thomas gently nudges the remote into Patton's hand that he isn't holding.

"Sometimes, maybe. But right now? It's your time. What do you want to watch?"

With a subdued joy that Thomas hopes one day will have all the strength of a hurricane, Patton clicks through the apps and turns on 'Steven Universe'. Thomas sticks with him to watch. He's already seen it, but he'll watch it again any day. Plus, he doesn't want to take his hand away when Patton clutches so tightly.

They progress in paces of patience. Soon, Thomas will need to jump fully back into work now that he's recovered from his sickness. He's texted his team and he'll be meeting with them tomorrow.

The big question is, will his new roommates be able to interact with them?

"We should engage in preliminary testing," Logan suggests.

Roman cheers, "I concur! Why wait for tomorrow what you could do today?"

"Famous last words," Virgil quips.

"Then what do you suggest, Negative Nancy?"

"Why even try? If you never try, then you can never fail. If you never fail, then you won't be disappointed."

"Technically, he's not wrong," Logan admits.

"You're agreeing with him?!"

"I didn't say that. I am no defeatist. I don't fear failure. Indeed, I feel no sense of fear whatsoever."

"God I wish that were me," Thomas bemoans his introverted existence.

"How about I streak naked down the street?" Remus suggests. "That'll get some looks!"

Logan is not the only one who doesn't possess a sense of fear, apparently.

There's enough interest amongst the group to go forward with the testing today. Patton thanks Remus for his contribution but tries to let him down gently and say maybe another time. Roman supplies fanciful ideas of vigilante fighting. Even if bad guys can't see them, they can pretend Thomas has telekinesis powers and make him look cool by floating things at the enemy. Patton also thanks Roman for his contributions but tries to let him down gently as well.

"How about shopping?" Janus says. "I'm always a hoe for a shopping spree. Especially when it's someone else's money that's being spent."

"Thomas isn't some cash cow," Virgil reminds him with narrowed eyes.

"No, don't be silly, he's a cash man."

Before they can get into it, Thomas chimes in, "Sure, I can spare a bit. Where would you guys like to go?"

Predictably, Remus says a sex shop. For the first time, Thomas can kinda see how long-term exposure might render the others a little dismissive towards him. But it is a valid option! Thomas is a grown man, with grown man needs. He's just...not gonna be going to an adult store with people he just became friends with. That's like, level fifty in terms of friendship.

"How about a grocery store?" Logan says. "It would be a practical way to spend your money."

"That's his way of saying he wants more Crofters jam," Virgil translates. Logan doesn't spare him a glance and simply mutters, "Falsehood."

Thomas feels in a teasing mood, so he asks Virgil, "And what about you?"

"Me?" Virgil lifts a singular eyebrow. It's a thinner brow than Thomas's, as if he shapes them. Thomas can imagine him easily with an eyebrow piercing. It'd go great with his aesthetic.

Why is he thinking so much about Virgil's eyebrows?

Thomas inwardly shakes himself and plasters a smirk on his face. "Yeah, you. Do you want some more ice cream?"

Virgil gives a mixture of a scoff and a cough. He shoves his hands in his pockets. "Spend your money however you want, Sanders."

"And that's Virgil's way of saying yes, he would love more ice cream," Janus translates.

Patton raises a hand. "Can we get more peanut butter?"

"And pickles?" Remus asks.

"Oh, how about pizza!" Roman says.

"Sure, anything you guys want," Thomas smiles, unable to hold himself back from wanting to indulge them.

Thomas hops in his car and drives to his local Walmart. Logan rides shotgun while Roman, Remus, and Patton squish together in the backseat. It's a twelve-minute ride that the three backseat passengers insist must be enjoyed with all the enthusiasm of an eight-hour road trip. They play car games to pass the time, and Thomas plays the radio for background noise. Logan points out a traffic light in disrepair before Thomas notices and reminds him to treat the intersection as a four-way stop.

They reach Walmart and it's not as dreadfully busy as it could be, but it's still Walmart. Thomas exits the car and trudges up to the store like a man going to war.

It takes him a bit to realize that the others have suddenly gone missing. Surrounded by strangers after spending over a week at home is a bit of a slap to the senses. Thomas is more troubled with securing a shopping cart and avoiding bumping into anyone. He surveys the store and debates where to start before heading towards the very back of the grocery section, intending to work his way up.

By the time he's grabbing a pack of butter, Thomas notices the immediate quiet. There's a chill that's not coming from the cooler beside him. He cranes his neck around to look over the buzzing masses. People pass this way and that. A lady with five kids getting milk. An old man perusing the discount baked goods rack. A couple heading towards the deli counter. More and more inconsequential bodies flit across his vision. And in the middle of the aisle, as if the rest of the world falls away and his eyes are drawn to him, there stands Virgil.

He stands alone, the brightness of his purple patches standing out amongst the crowd. Calmly, he watches people pass by him. No one looks his way, not even once. A teenager passes right through him on her way to catch up with her parents. Virgil's lips twitch up and he turns to meet Thomas's gaze.

Thomas is held captive in the moment. Virgil looks at him, and there's no guessing what's on his mind. Thomas knows. He knows it in his heart.

Virgil shrugs helplessly. They gave it a shot. This changes nothing. He'll tell himself he doesn't want to be perceived anyway while ignoring that little piece inside that pleads otherwise. That piece that's been waiting for so long for someone to just look and notice and not act like he isn't there, like he doesn't exist.

It's a lonely thing to watch the world go by and be told that you can't partake.

As much as it hurts, it's okay, because Thomas at least sees him for who he is. It's enough.

Yet again, Thomas thinks they deserve so much more.

***

The ride back to his apartment is significantly less noisy. Thomas catches glimpses of Virgil and Janus in the rearview mirror sitting in the backseat, neither talking, both looking out their respective windows. They disappear once Thomas parks the car, and Patton and Logan join him while he empties the trunk of its groceries. They're also far too quiet for comfort as they help carry bags inside.

The next day rolls by, Thomas meets with his team, and Roman lingers in the background, an unseen guest. Thomas can see his wistful smile as he watches Thomas interact with his friends. There's longing there to be included. When no one's looking, Thomas offers him a wave. It's enough of an acknowledgement that Roman perks up and swings his feet a bit where he sits on a table.

The meeting goes well. They've brainstormed some future video ideas and have a shooting schedule mapped out. Best of all, no one looks at Thomas like he's a walking hazard. They seem to be relieved that he's recovered and well rested and more responsive than he's been in a long time. Thomas returns home afterwards, and life goes on.

There's not much in the way of testing discussed after that, for a while at least. The previous lack of success is disheartening, and really though, what else is there to test? They are real people to Thomas only.

And Thomas would be a liar if he doesn't admit that he occasionally speculates if this makes him clinically insane. As real as they are to him, no one else can see or interact with them. Doesn't that check the boxes on a lot of psych evaluation tests?

If it's a form of insanity, it's a relatively mild one in terms of negative impact. It could be a lot worse. He's sure Logan could grant him some neat facts to put it all in perspective. That would involve telling Logan about his concerns revolving whether they are real or not. He doesn't want him to think he's invalidating his existence.

Isn't he though? By just questioning this, isn't there a part of his mind that still can't wrap around this? What more can he do to prove to himself that they truly exist?

Without conversing to the others about it, Thomas discreetly slips out his phone and snaps a picture of Remus. He's just sitting on the living room floor, swaying back and forth absent-mindedly. You can see the corner of the entertainment center in the picture. It's not a remarkable picture by any means and doesn't have the best lighting, but Remus brings a sense of peculiarity with his dark prince outfit.

The picture is taken with none the wiser. Thomas purses his lips and stares at his phone screen. He taps his fingers on the back of the case.

Remus's figure never fades. It's definitely a picture of him. Now what does he do with it?

He can send it to someone. Just to see if they can see an image of the others. If not in person, maybe they can be viewed through technological means? But who should he send it to? Not his brothers. Or his parents. Hmm, he can't think of a friend he can send it to without garnering a series of questions for an explanation. Well, he can possibly play it off. But what if he can't?

He scrolls through his contact list before spying his godson's name. Gavin sends him random stuff all the time. Thomas can just tell him it's a meme trend or something.

Trying not to overthink it, Thomas sends the pic along with a question, What do you see in this picture?

A few very nail-biting minutes later, Gavin responds. Is that ur house?

That isn't...the worst response.

Yeah lol

Ur tv cord? Idk is something I'm missing?

Yeah, the invisible man. You can't see him?

Nah, he invisible.

Darn, I told him to turn off that setting before I took the pic. Maybe next time.

Gavin sends back a laughing emoji.

That settles that. If Gavin could see Remus, he would have said something about his outfit or ask who he is or why he's at Thomas's apartment. The kid asks a lot of questions, and to be fair, Remus is very questionable in general.

Thomas doesn't let the others know of his discovery. What they don't know can't hurt them, right?

It turns out to be truer than Thomas can imagine. Curiosity killed the cat. Ignorance is bliss. Be careful what you wish for.

While no one has spoken of the discoveries from the Walmart outing, it doesn't mean it hasn't been on their minds. In fact, Logan in particular has taken notes to record the aspects of their existence. He approaches Thomas and shows him some of his theories and hypothesis.

"I would like to attempt a new test, if you would be so inclined," Logan says, and while he holds his posture well, Thomas senses an underlying nervousness to him.

Thomas doesn't want to deny him this, not when they've struggled with learning how to reach out to him.

"What do you have in mind?" Thomas asks.

They relocate to the backyard. Everyone else joins them. They probably would have anyway, but Logan specifically requests that everyone convene together.

"Are we finally running into oncoming traffic?" Remus asks excitedly, bouncing on his heels.

"Not today, Remus. I have devised an experiment to test the boundaries of our physical attachment to Thomas. Prior to Thomas's illness, we could not stray beyond roughly eighty feet from Thomas. When arriving to this distance, we experience a tethering sensation, as if we cannot walk any further. With the increase to our corporeal prowess, I suggest we ascertain whether this distance remains or if it has increased."

"So you just want us to go for a walk?" Patton asks.

"Oh, why didn't you just say that, Isaac Nerdton?" Roman scoffs.

Logan adjusts his glasses. "Because I wanted all parties to know precisely what– okay, fine. We are going for a walk. But!" He claps his hands to accentuate his point. "This will be regulated so that we can account for all variables. I suggest we test one subject at a time to calculate if there are any differences between distance amongst us."

Thomas raises his hand and waits for Logan to call on him. "So what do I do?"

"You just stand there."

"Cool, I can do that. I'm good at standing."

"Who's gonna go first?" Virgil asks. He shifts his gaze between everyone to see if someone will volunteer.

Patton shrugs. "I could, I guess?"

"What would this prove anyway?" Janus comments, snide in the way he checks his nails through his glove. It would be a funny image if he didn't sound genuinely dismissive of the whole affair. "This won't change anything. Even if we miraculously can wander off to new horizons, Thomas is still the only person who can see us."

"We could break into people's houses and steal their stuff," Remus says.

"Let's not take other people's things," Patton says. "We wouldn't want people to come steal from Thomas, would we? It's not right."

"Morality only matters to those who have a place in society. Last I checked, we don't."

Patton deflates and looks at Janus with a pained expression. "I think it still matters how you treat people..."

"Good for you," Janus says, sickly sweet.

Virgil steps between the two of them. "Okay, what crawled in your ass and died?"

"Cynicism? Disillusionment? A reality check? Take your pick."

Virgil growls and looks at Logan. "You know what? I'll go."

"Wait, wait, let's not start things off angry," Thomas urges. Virgil has begun walking, so Thomas skitters up behind him, grasping on to his jacket. Virgil halts but doesn't turn around.

"This is merely for educational purposes. I did not expect this to warrant a strong emotional reaction."

Roman claps a hand on Logan's shoulder. "Not your fault, Specs. Someone must have pissed in Janus's cheerios this morning."

Janus crosses his arms and puts on an unaffected tone, "Do whatever you wish. Don't let me stop you."

Thomas shares a look with Logan. "I'd like to go through with the test because it's important to Logan. Whether what we discover is any different than what you guys are used to, it doesn't matter. What matters is that it's important to Logan to find out."

There's a brief softening of the eyes behind Logan's glasses. He shuffles quickly with his notebook and pen and then unceremoniously dumps them into Roman's arms.

Roman sputters, "What–?"

"I'll do it," Logan announces. "After all, this is my hypothesis. I will take the initiative and be the first to go."

Logan gestures for Thomas to step aside to the "starting point". Thomas lets go of Virgil hesitantly, but Virgil doesn't protest or turn to look. Thomas shuffles over to the side in the grass and holds still while Logan stands beside him.

"I will count my steps as I go along to measure the distance. Once I reach a point I can no longer move forward, I'll return."

"Okay, easy peasy," Thomas says with false cheer.

Janus doesn't debate any more. Patton offers no assurances. Remus doesn't interrupt. Roman holds the notebook stiffly. And Virgil's head only moves as Logan walks by him. He watches as Logan treks across the grass behind the apartment complex.

Logan keeps his head bowed, watching his steps with careful attentiveness. He crosses the road and carries on through more grass. He rapidly approaches the tree line that begins there on the other side.

"Anyone wanna make bets?" Remus asks. The suggestion falls on deaf ears, but Patton does come over to stand beside him and hold his hand. It must not be a frequent occurrence because Remus glances down at him in surprise but doesn't discourage it.

For Thomas's part, his eyes are glued to Logan's back. His form is getting smaller, more distant.

"That's more than eighty feet," Virgil murmurs, loud in the quiet. His hand scratches at his neck, and when that doesn't seem to do anything for him, he shakes out his hands. Then he shakes out his hands again.

Roman turns to gauge Virgil. He frowns at what he sees, though Thomas can't see Virgil's face from this angle. "You good, Virge?"

"I don't like this," Virgil admits. His foot begins tapping a mad dance into the ground.

"I don't either," Patton drones, morose. Perhaps he's sensitive from Janus's remarks.

Logan treads into the woods. They can see his black polo and blue jeans through the spindly tree trunks. At first, he's there, but quickly he's swallowed into the vegetation.

Virgil runs his fingers through his hair and blows out a stream of air. "What if he gets lost?"

Roman laughs, "Get lost? He's going in a straight line, Virge."

"What if something happens to him? What if– what if– I don't like this."

"I thought you were on board with this."

Virgil doesn't answer. He starts pacing back and forth, and Thomas can see his expression now in his peripheral. His brows are knotted, eyes too wide. His pacing becomes erratic.

"Hey, hey, don't do that. You're just gonna work yourself up," Roman calls to him, coming over to stop him. Virgil tries to walk around him, but Roman blocks his path.

"Why didn't one of us go with him? We should have gone with him!"

"Virgil, please, it'll be alright. Pat, may I have an emergency dose of positivity over here?"

"I don't like this," Patton repeats, and his tone is even more dejected. He holds onto Remus's arm with both hands. He leans into him, shaking at the arm insistently. "I don't like this."

"...Patton?" Remus hums in confusion. He looks around to the others to see if they're witnessing how close to crying Patton seems, but Thomas's eyes can't leave the tree line where Logan vanished.

"We have to go get him. Please, we have to–"

"Stormcloud, please," Roman soothes, and Virgil clings to the front of his tunic like a drowning man. His breaths are coming shorter and shorter, his words jumbling amongst the gasps. Roman stands there, dumbfounded. "Uh, Remus?"

"Kinda busy with Pat," Remus says, watching as Patton unravels. Tears cascade down his face and the first whimper of a sob comes out. "Okay, what the fuck is going on?"

"He's gonna die, he's gonna die-" Virgil rants over and over and he launches into a full-blown panic attack. "Janus, Janus, help!"

"Please!" Patton wails and falls to his knees. Remus barely manages to catch him and guide him down safely.

Thomas's feet move without intention. He takes one heavy step, then another, movements sluggish and wooden.

Janus is there suddenly, hand at his elbow to stop his forward momentum. Thomas is barely conscious of the peering eyes, one human and one snake. Janus glances between a hysterical Virgil and a sobbing Patton and turns to Thomas.

"Thomas, can you hear me?" he asks.

Thomas can, but it's like he's under water. He tries to step forward again, but Janus won't let him. Thomas feels the resistance as if steel cables are latching onto him with grappling hooks. Serrated edges sink into his flesh. No, no, it's not from outside. It's inside. There's a pull inside him, and it tugs.

"Janus!" Virgil begs.

"Please!" Patton cries.

"What the hell is wrong with them?!"

"I don't know! It's not like this has ever happened before!"

"Janus, what is Thomas doing?"

The words drift over Thomas, like seafoam floating by in a vast sea. There are more important matters to attend, like how he can't see Logan. If Logan is gone, then that means–

"Thomas, listen to me," someone says, and there are hands cupping his face. Thomas can't feel them, yet he knows they're there. "You have to shut this down. You have to stop this. Now."

But Logan is gone. He's gone, and Thomas is left bereft without him. The earth beneath his feet tremors, and the sky splits open in a downpour. The sun will fall and set the world ablaze. And Thomas feels the ache building up in his chest with mind-numbing certainty.

"Thomas!" the voice yells at him, hands shaking him. Thomas looks up into a face that he knows. He knows that face. He knows, he knows, he knows. How could he not? That's why it's so familiar. Why couldn't he see it before?

"I'm sorry," Thomas whispers.

His chest splinters in agony. Fear bleeds out abundant. Grief ravages his heart.

Thomas falls to the ground screaming.

[chipmunkweirdo]

hii, idk if u take requests but if u do, what are ur chipmunks (just Alvin Simon and Theodore) headcanons??

I do take requests! You’re in luck! Thank you for messaging me!

Oooh boy, I have SOOOO many headcanons for them. Let me copy and paste the list I made that used to be on my Twitter.

SIMON

Simon secretly loves going on adventures, but as “the responsible one” he’s expected to be the killjoy. Sometimes, he’ll let Alvin go through with a scheme and tag along on the adventure without telling an authority figure. You only live once.

He tends to be crazy prepared for any situation that could possibly be thrown at him. This includes government spies. He even built an underground tunnel system underneath his house and his family uses it to hide out when the situation calls for it.

His memory is incredible and allows him to memorize lists of facts and statistics.

Because of his good memory, he holds grudges for a long time. He will make you pay for that time that you wronged him even if you forgot what you did or said and have since moved on.

The power of his mind is so important to him that he tends to forget it’s not the only thing that defines his character. He fears Alvin becoming smarter than him.

Simon wants to protect people and keep them safe. As a result, he often violates their rights to privacy in the name of safety. Good examples would be putting tracking devices on every bike in the neighborhood and putting a tracking device in Alvin’s cap.

He can’t figure out how to make anything he cooks taste good. This irritates him because he strives to learn all the useful skills he can and this one is no exception. He really doesn’t appreciate all Alvin’s jokes about his meals causing “Simon-ella” poisoning.

(Then the show implied Simon was a god tier cook better than Theo in season 5. I didn’t love that episode.)

He enjoys watching The Big Bang Theory and feels like he can relate to Leonard. He also deals with an annoying egotistical roommate. (Alvin) Now that Alvin is 2.0, he sees even more of Alvin in Sheldon. He teases Alvin sometimes by calling him “Shelvin.”

Although he has a soft spot for sitcoms and sci fi, he prefers non-fiction to fiction.

His favorite non-fiction shows are anything on the science network or the discovery channel. His favorite non-fiction books are encyclopedias and anything science related.

When Dave tells him an invention or experiment is too dangerous, he does it anyway. He disobeys Dave in his pursuit of knowledge and Alvin disobeys Dave in his pursuit of a fun time. However, Simon believes that he’s in the right and Alvin is in the wrong.

He’s a hypocrite.

It irks him that he can no longer be snide or passive aggressive without Alvin 2.0 eventually realizing it.

He’s so farsighted that he’s basically blind without his glasses. He finds glasses to be a nuisance sometimes, but is accustomed to wearing them and prefers them to contacts. Besides, they are a big part of his casual look.

Simon is a closeted brony. He watched My Little Pony with Jeanette once and became a Twilight Sparkle fan. He is deeply embarrassed by his love for the show because he thinks no one will take a scientist who loves MLP seriously.

Simon does not possess a lot of lower body strength. His strength is the opposite of Alvin’s, concentrated mostly in his upper body. He’s gotten pretty strong from lifting power drills, chainsaws, heavy metal robot parts, and stuff.

He can beat Alvin 2.0 in an arm wrestle.

Simon enjoys basketball and plays it quite frequently in his spare time. He joined the basketball team once, but then he couldn’t handle the peer pressure and switched to a basketball club instead.

THEODORE

Theodore eats more whenever he’s feeling stressed, but if he’s really feeling angry or depressed, he won’t eat as much....if at all. If he says “I’m not hungry.” You know he’s in a bad place.

He’s gotten over his fear of one clown. However, he still has nightmares about being chased by a pack of clowns sometimes. He also has nightmares about disappointing Dave and being stuck in a box.

He loves to cook for people. He enjoys helping Eleanor most, but he will still cook by himself, provided Dave allows him to use the kitchen.

He likes to be the one to make refreshments for school events. This can get overwhelming, but Eleanor helps him cope with the stress.

His naive and young demeanor helps to shield him from Alvin and Simon’s fighting.

Talking Teddy is his favorite show because it’s a distraction from all the pain and suffering in the world. He lives in a figurative little bubble and he chooses what he lets in and out.

Although he hates dealing with real drama, fake drama on TV is a-okay in his book. He enjoys watching Spanish soap operas and uses them to practice his Spanish.

Theodore is a part of the school drama club as well. He likes showing off his range as an actor.

Alvin’s change hasn’t affected him as much as it affected Simon. Unfortunately, Alvin has gotten really wordy and hard to understand. Theodore is occasionally forced to look up words in the dictionary if he wishes to have any idea what Alvin and Simon are talking about.

When Brittany needs someone to help her finish all the extra duties for the principal, Theodore steps in to help. His need to stretch himself and help as many people as possible sometimes causes him to burn out. He needs to learn that sometimes it’s okay to say “I’m busy.”

To prove how he’s matured since the events of the Alvinnn pilot, Theodore now has access to the keyboard Simon tricked out for Talking Teddy. He frequently types in responses and pretends Teddy is talking to him, even though he knows he’s just talking to himself. It doesn’t hurt to pretend if it’s a coping mechanism.

His love for Talking Teddy boarders on obsession at times. He’s gone to the live show, owns the videogame, has a huge DVD collection, has seen all 4 movies, and owns more than one Talking Teddy doll. Teddy, backup Teddy, and mini Teddy the backpack clip, to name a few.

More mature Theodore does have a bit more of a backbone than his alternate universe counterparts. He gets second and even third opinions before agreeing to certain things. He’s even started developing an ability to sense if a situation is “fishy” or legit.

He’s extremely proud of his musical skills and especially his drumming skills. He’s always begging Dave to add drum solos to songs so he can show off his skills. Alvin and Simon get their guitar and bass solos. He wants his time to shine too.

He knows a large number of dances and he’s even invented his own dance moves. He likes freestyling the best. When the boys took ballet, he picked up on the skill faster than Simon and Alvin. It helped that Eleanor encouraged him in a nicer way than she did the other boys.

Sometimes Theodore pushes the limits of what his cuteness can do, such as scoring free candy by making puppy dog eyes. In addition, Alvin uses him as a secret weapon to bring out the inner goodness in people.

Theodore hates being thought of as stupid and naive. He doesn’t want to be a “genius” like his brothers though. He’d like to be thought of as a person with average intelligence. And he especially wants to prove to Officer Dangus that he’s not dumb.

Theodore’s habit of sensing things more strongly than other people is one of the reasons that he almost always notices Eleanor.

His five senses are very in tune with the world around him, especially his senses of smell of taste. Sight’s better than his brothers’ obviously. Both of them wear glasses and he doesn’t need glasses.

ALVIN/ALVIN 2.0

Alvin was a closeted nerd, but as Alvin 2.0 he’s connected more with that side of himself. He’s still getting used to the way it’s changed how people react to him.

He’s an excellent artist, even though he failed art class 3 times for not following directions. He drew comics and did his own projects instead of actually doing the assignments. “What? I’m making art, right? And this is art class....so I should get an A.”

Alvin is a tetrachromat, meaning he possesses 4 different types of vision cones for processing color. He can tell apart even the most subtle color variations. This is why he gets so picky about describing colors.

He is ambidextrous. He can do things equally well with both his right and left hands. He was originally right handed, but he broke his arm and had to learn how to function with his left. When his arm healed, he started using both and has continued the trend ever since.

He’s very absent-minded and puts sticky note reminders all over to help him remember important things. He also has a bunch of reminders programmed into his phone.

When he really needs to focus, he leaves his phone and his videogames in another room, so they won’t distract him.

He’s physically weak in his upper body and most of his strength is concentrated in his lower body. His legs can move faster than all of the other Chipmunks’ and Chipettes’. He excels in any sport or activity that requires running quickly.

He likes academic subjects, but that doesn’t mean he’s thrilled with the idea of school. He’d rather learn the subjects on his own. Teachers have ridiculously high expectations of him and there’s students who bully him. It’s tough.

He has ONE teacher who understands him and makes school tolerable. It’s that very same teacher that helped him discover his interest in physics. He takes an advanced placement class for no reason other than to be able to see this amazing teacher named Dr. Wilson almost every day.

He’s an honorary member of the Mathletes. He sometimes attends meetings if he isn’t busy. His codename is “Al-gebrainiac.” (This will make more sense if you’ve see the season 2 episode called Members Only)

He likes meeting new people and is very sociable. The change didn’t affect his extroverted tendencies. Sometimes his sociableness gets him in trouble.

He has a tendency to get involved in dangerous and risky situations when his curiosity kicks in.

Beneath all his new traits, he’s still got a wild side. He will always try to justify his rebellious actions with a logical reason, but it’s kind of obvious the actual reason is “he wanted to have fun.”

Ever since his transition, he hasn’t been keeping up his looks as much. (Though he is still somewhat vain and sometimes concerned with his appearance) He stops putting gel in his hair on occasion, which causes it to do whatever it wants. His messy unkempt and appropriately named “Einstein hair” gives him a sort of absent minded professor vibe.

He both loves and fears meeting new Alvins from the multiverse. He’s interested to meet them and make conversation, but he fears they won’t see past his nerdy exterior and big vocabulary.

Due to his tendency to talk a lot for long periods of time barely stopping to breathe, Alvin suffers from severe dry mouth. This may also be why his speaking voice has a noticeable raspier and older sound to it than the voices of his alternate counterparts.

And there you have it! My headcanons for the boys!

[hermitw]

Tengen, Kenjaku, + Sukuna - relationships and history (my guess at them, at least)

Sukuna's eye piece resembles a tree. It seems to move on its own, like it's breathing or something - Tengen's head does this as well.

In the exchange event arc, Kenjaku says that you can think of Tengen like a tree.

This might draw on a relationship between Sukuna and Tengen.

Sukuna doesn't seem to know much about his mother - maybe she was starving, she was pregnant with twins but Sukuna ate the sibling (which might have begun the cannibal rumor - we never see him eat anyone but his own mummy. When Sukuna did try other foods (popcorn and soda) they didn't even include meat. Anyway, it seems more like Sukuna absorbed his twin in the womb, they sort of fused together, and he came out with extra arms and 2 faces. (this is a post for another time, but I suspect that Sukuna has dissociative identity disorder, which is caused by childhood trauma. I'm only mentioning this because maybe sukuna had both souls, but I'm not theorizing in the 2 souls thing - if anyone else goes that route, I'd love to read it though.

Sukuna was an unwanted child, a cursed child, one that should have never been born (this is how he describes himself, and I'm certain he learned that from the way adults spoke of and treated him).

Tengen only smiled when Yuuji asked “why do you look like that?” coupled with Tengen saying “I'm more like a granny” and Kenjaku thinking that Tengen is starting to resemble Sukuna (and at first I thought sukuna was eating Tengen's true body, not his own mummy, so the resemblance is rly there - and Sukuna seemed surprised to see a mummy, which made me think that wasn't his own body. Because the clothing etc tells us that Sukuna committed to self-mummification, a Buddhist ritual that was eventually outlawed as suicide.) and I've come to think that Tengen is Sukuna's grandmother.

What about Kenjaku? The way Sukuna (and Uraume) acts around him screams trauma. We know that Kenjaku is a long-term plotting manipulator, master of coercive control. It really seems like Kenjaku and Tengen had some relationship… I wonder if Kenjaku was a bad influence on her. If the way he used the dead bodies of other people to inhabit himself normalized such disrespect of autonomy, or if Kenjaku insinuated that erasing (as Yaga put it) the star plasma vessels (middle school girls, as far as we know) was the only way to preserve Tengen's humanity as she ages.

There's also the fact that cursed energy, spirits, sorcerers, are only so prevalent and strong in Japan compared to the rest of the world because of Tengen's barrier - which is very suspicious, making the fact that Tengen strengthens the barriers utterly meaningless to me.

Is kenjaku a relative of Sukuna? I'm not sure. But in the end of this post I noted some possible references to Marilyn Manson (it's been 10 years since I've read his autobiography, interviews etc) in Sukuna's character - most heavily supported by Gege choosing Sa(i)nt as his song (side note, Manson has claimed to have DID). Anyway, the most disturbing part of that book to me was his grandfather's basement. He and his cousin used to pretend to be spies, and sneak into their grandfather's private room, and he still has nightmares about it (pretty sure I do too). I won't go into it here bc I'm not interested in throwing up. And I don't remember whether he feared his grandfather, but I'm pretty sure that punishment methods (which have now been classified as torture, i think) were mentioned - I think from both grandparents idk. Anyway, Sukuna said that Kenjaku does the grossest things (genuinely between Manson’s grandfather and Kenjaku, I can't tell who is more disgusting) which hints that this is no surprise, consistent with his behavior 1,000 years in the past.

Edit to add another thing that is... In the manga, Sukuna double jumps in mid-air, and we never get an explanation for that. In the first episode, Yuuji jumps 4 stories before eating the finger (his athleticism is usually close to the world record iirc, so this is too much imo). There's also Yuki Tsukumo's gravity CT (I think that she and Todo are also kenjaku's kids, but none of them are aware of it, not even him). Anyway. The point here is that maybe this is a sign of Sukuna being Kenjaku's child in some way, as well.

Back to Kenjaku - what the hell is his domain's effect?

I'm making the case here for age regression. Tengen only became fetus Tengen after being removed from Kenjaku (you could say this is for convenient transport to Sukuna, but I don't know). Often, responses to trauma, awareness that a relationship was even abusive, only set in after spending time away from the abuser. And then regression can set in, like suddenly missing social skills, going nonverbal, feeling a total loss of personhood etc. Given the metaphor for SA that I find in another character (if you caught up on the posts mentioned from the earlier link, you already know what I'm talking about - the yap (part 1 part 2) that goes way deeper into the references of trauma, especially sexual abuse, infringement on autonomy, prevalent in jjk, involving more characters. With that in mind, I feel supported that Kenjaku's thing is age regression). When Tengen and Kenjaku were together (whatever kind of relationship that was - what I mean is, when they were in close proximity, at least) kenjaku might have prevented Tengen from aging (in the evolution sense. I also wonder if Kenjaku's age regression thing could prevent himself from aging, as well - despite being a thousand year old brain, he certainly lacks emotional maturity, indifferent at best to the suffering he causes). I imagine that if Tengen and Kenjaku separated, then Tengen would continue a cycle of abuse, or just enact the same sort of behavior that Kenjaku didn't think twice about, to preserve herself. Maybe there were other ways to go about this - like a pact??? The most obvious answer here.

There's also the way that Tengen, the star plasma vessels, and the six eyes are all tied by fate (ngl I'm still wondering what this could mean so please elaborate if you have any ideas).

[demonslayedher]

If we imagine that Kanao volunteered herself to go with Tengen in Aoi’s stead while purposely knowing that she was going against the fact that she needs permission from Shinobu, what do you think would have happened? IIRC, wasn’t Kanao entering the final selection one of the only choices she made for herself behind Shinobu’s back? I’m kinda basing this scenario on that.

Yeah, dang, things believably could have gone that way! Kanao will act as she sees right even if she doesn't expressly have permission... and in fact, she might even justify some actions as not having been told not to. That seems like a very plausible start for the Uzui & Kanao show.

And what a pair to work with since it's just going to be the two of them, as Uzui will probably take Kanao and run off before Shinobu can come and say no!

So if we go back to that scene...

Instead of Kanao just wordlessly grabbing Aoi & Naho (already a big step for Kanao, the other girls were stunned), she instead takes to yelling like she did at everyone to shut up because Tanjiro was asleep. Uzui is probably not impressed, but then after that when Kanao grabs on, he decides that since she's a Tsuguko and has a higher rank, she'll probably be more useful anyway, so he agrees, but they have to make it quick. Before they know it Uzui has ninja'd off and Aoi & the little girls are stunned and by the time Tanjiro gets back they're all going to be sobbing messes. Tanjiro will try to track Kanao down by scent, but he won't get very far. They all wait for Shinobu to get home so they can tattle on her fellow Pillar, but she doesn't go home that night... or the next night... dang those Pillar missions being so demanding! Rather than hoping for her to come soon they all instead start dreading her return.

So Uzui takes Kanao off and gives her the same talking to that he gave the boys. His word is god! Whatever he says goes! If he says to be a monkey, she's a monkey! If he says to be a dog, she's a dog!

And Kanao, being very, very good at following instructions, replies in all seriousness, "Yes."

Uzui wasn't totally expecting that, it steals his thunder with how bland a response it is and he just says "tch" and they get going. Since she's a girl and it would be looked at differently than taking a bunch of boys around, he skips the tour and goes straight to the Wisteria Mansion to give her the briefing. The goal is to have her get inside the houses his wives have disappeared from. They try to target Tokitoya first where Suma was, but the yarite from Ogimotoya where Makio was spies Kanao first by to take beautiful Kanao for a handsome price. Uzui responds well on the change in plan, Kanao is a little more bewildered because she was supposed to go to Tokitoya first, and she runs back from the yarite to whisper a question to Uzui.

Uzui supposes this is important to the mission and he squats lower so she can reach his ear. He can hear her fine among the crowd, but it's important that no demons hear.

She asks, "What do I do?"

"What? What do you mean, 'what do I do?'"

"What am I supposed to do at Ogimotoya?"

"Look for Makio, dummy!! Cook and clean and sing and play cards for all I care, but that's your mission!"

"Is there some problem?" the yarite comes back. "I believe we had a deal."

"Sorry, sorry, she's feeling nervous! Don't worry, I told her you'd show her a-a-a-ll around Ogimoto and that she'll learn all the ins and outs! Bye, Kanao! Be a good learner!"

Kanao has no idea what she's in for, and does everything she's told. They are thrilled to have not only found such a pretty girl, but a docile one who does everything she's told! What a good find! Although Kanao is still being used as a general servant while she's new, she's very aware of what staying here longer would mean. While looking around for clues about Makio, she ponders how sad and trapped the women there are, and how close she came to this having been her life. She'd have stayed completely closed off and numb, had that happened, so maybe it wouldn't had actually bothered her all that much, but Tanjiro's words echoing, 'live according to your heart,' makes her feel pain in her chest.

She happens to hear of Makio being sick, and goes to investigate, and opens the door just in time to see the obi swallow Makio up and slip away. There's no chase necessary, for Kanao has seen that it moves between the cracks, and she already knows it's long out of her reach by the time she's started chasing it.

She of course reports this to Uzui, and this is valuable intel which makes sense of a lot of tricky parts of this mission. He's worried for Makio, but also knows that it's useless now to keep Kanao at Ogimotoya because the demon knows it was spotted there (Kanao's flustered, she already had jobs to do as a servant in Ogimotoya waiting for after she made her report to Uzui). He'd like to backtrack and go to Tokitoya next, but it'll be difficult since that annoying yarite from Ogimotoya will probably recognize her property over there and cause a fuss. Maybe he should had brought one or two more of Shinobu's girls after all, at which Kanao frets and insists that she'll do everything.

Uzui gets crabby; how is a know-nothing like her going to make a promise like that!! There's no weight to her words!! What was she even thinking when she offered to go?

At this, Kanao answers him honestly, she was doing what her heart told her to. Uzui finds himself curious about the tone of voice she used to say this, and with a wide-eyed stared with interest, he tells her to go on. She isn't sure there's much more to say, and explains that she had always not cared one way or another about anything, and nothing ever hurt that way, just to do what she's told or flip a coin. It was all the same to her. But now that she's been told to live according to her heart, she's trying, and it's harder to live this way... but it's nicer. She likes it better, even if it's hard.

Uzui, having also had to listen to his own heart after spending all his life doing what he was told and to be unfeeling, feels some sympathy for her. He asks, "Well then. What do you want to do?"

"Eh?"

"You're on your own for this mission. Kochou's not here to tell you what to do. You've got to think for yourself. What do you want to do out here, in the pleasure quarters? What's your heart telling you?"

Kanao furrows her brow and thinks a moment, then asks, "I have a Corp salary. How many girls here can I buy?"

Uzui nearly falls off the roof. "WHAT!?!?" he recovers, "THAT'S what's on your mind when you should be doing the mission!?!?!"

"Eh? But--their contracts--if I buy them--then they get to be free, right? I'm sure--I'm sure Shihan would let them live at the Mansion--"

"That's not what I asked about it!! The mission! The mission, Tsuyuri, we're here to fight a demon! It's an Upper Moon, you got that!?!?"

"H-Hai---"

"I don't hear you!!!"

"HAI!!"

"Drab!! Weak!! Do you use any Breath in those lungs or not?" he pinched her cheek and jostled her back and forth. "LOUDER!! MORE FLAMBOYANT!!!"

"HAI!!!"

"That's more like it," he let go of her cheek and rubbed her head, pushing and pulling her hair into complete disarray. Though he meant to be light, the grip of his thumb had left a big, unsightly red mark on her face. His first inclination was to be sorry and his second was to be aggravated with himself for how that would make her a harder sell, but then he got an idea.

That evening, he brought Kanao to market again, covered in thick white makeup, cheeks like apples, and eyelashes for miles. To his irritation, however, even with the thickest of his charms, he couldn't get Tokitoya to take her, so in a crabby mood, he brought her over to Kyogokuya to dump her off for free to clean toilets and such. He then sent his mice to go investigate every nook and cranny an obi could slip through (unfortunately for the mice, many of them found themselves too bulky to fit).

As soon as the makeup was off, Kanao was the talk of the establishment the following early morning, which of course made their resident star, Warabihime-oiran, curious for a look at the newcomer. Kanao could tell with one look that the woman smiling at her was a demon, and she was terrified to her knees and knew she had to hurry and tell Uzui, but how? Run? Escape? Get the demon's attention? Tell everyone she's a demon they're in danger? Scream for Uzui? Risk being caught in the obi? Coin? Shihan? Coin? The mission? Hinatsuru-san? Coin?

She makes it through most of day keeping her head down and doing exactly as told, but then when that little girl was being abused, Kanao's heart makes up its mind and Kanao decides she wants to protect her.

Flamboyantly. With her sword. She calls for it from the mice while going in first with a hidden weapon laced with wisteria poison. Daki already saw Kanao coming as soon as she had murderous intent but didn't foresee Kanao sproinging out of the way of her swift backhand intended to know her head off, much less Kanao twirling over her with a knife sticking out the heel of her sock. Startled, Daki swoops the obi toward her, but Kanao rips it and the wisteria poison momentarily immobilizes it, given the mice just enough time to stomp holes through the ceiling and drop Kanao's Nichirin-to down to her, and for Kanao to catch and take to a low ready stance.

As she and Daki stare at each other hatefully, the little girls scream, two at the door, and one inside the room.

"You demon hunters sure know how to make an inconvenient fuss. Look at the mess in here, I can't work like this."

Kanao says nothing in response. She knows she's against an Upper Moon and without being conscious of doing so, she's analyzing her opponent and making judgements for what to do next.

Dropping the part of the obi melting under the poison, Daki then shoots a healthy part of it toward the girl in the room, forcing Kanao to move to protect her. As soon as she kicks off, though, another part of the obi goes for the two girls in the hall, forcing Kanao to have to choose between them.

Coin--coin---Shihan--live by her heart--coin--defeat demons--just take the demon's head!

She again takes Daki by surprise by not fruitlessly trying to save any of the girls and instead going straight for a shot at Daki's neck. Daki snaps the obi back to defend against the blade, but their stride is in Kanao's favor, and with their strikes and parries she forces Daki back and toward to the window, notwithstanding sharp cuts and scrapes, giving the girl inside the room a chance to run for the hall and for all three to get away and alert the others to evacuate.

As their fight gets louder, so do the screams, and Uzui is alerted to the commotion. He shows up just as Kanao takes a hard hit that threw her backwards hard enough to break through a wall. Fortunately for Kanao Uzui was sturdier than a wall, and a better catch.

"Nice going," he assures her, "Your mission was to find my wives, not the demon, but I'll accept this as a pass. Hmm... then again, not the right demon. Get everyone out, things are going to get a lot more flamboyant after this one."

Kanao runs downstairs to tell all the people to leave, but the obi comes from the walls--from seemingly everywhere in the walls!--to block her path and taunt her with a big ugly face, and Kanao takes quick notice of a person in part of the obi. She fights and frees that person, then before some of the rest of the obi can retreat, she grabs it and pulls, exposing another person, whom she cuts free. It's Makio and Suma! They pin the obi to the walls and leave room for Kanao to make it down the stairs to ensure that everyone is evacuating. The owner, having known something was wrong with Warabihime-oiran and sorely missing his wife Omitsu, is cooperative and uses his position of influence to start telling other places to evacuate too. Kanao, still having a mission to complete, desperately asks him where Hinatsuru is, and he tells her she's in the kirimise. Kanao barely gets a chance to pass this info off to Makio and Suma, for Gyutaro's already entered the party upstairs, and Kanao needs to go back.

And then.... Iiiiiiiiii don't know, things get ugly, Kanao is probably really, really gonna struggle, and I don't know that she's able to take Daki's head on her own at this point. But look, see, I'm fixing things by already having started the evacuation!! Look at all these lives getting saved!

Anyway... eventually Shinobu had to get home. Everyone is very, very sullen to see her and Aoi is really doing her best to say everything she's rehearsed to explain and apologize for everything, but she's making no sense. Tanjiro tries to help, but he smells that Shinobu is already really tired and not in the mood for bad news, and he struggles, and finally Inosuke just butts in and says Kanao went off with some flashy guy. Zenitsu yells at him that he's insulting Kanao's maidenly honor by putting it that way, but some key words caught her attention.

"Flashy guy?"

"Yes," says Tanjiro, wilting with bad news, "the Sound Pillar, I was told..."

"Even though he said he couldn't take her without your permission," cried Aoi.

Shinobu smiles her hardest and thanks them and assures them she'll handle the matter. Unfortunately none of the teary-eyed children heard where he was taking Kanao, so Shinobu had to sacrifice her sleeping hours to send out a few crows and pay a visit to Oyakata-sama to inquire where Uzui's mission was. Kagaya sighs and says he wishes Tengen wouldn't had borrowed Shinobu's Tsuguko without permission because rules are rules and that is how they run the Corp, and he'll scold Tengen for it later. However, he had allowed his because his understanding of the situation was that this was Kanao's choice. Shinobu's a bit shook by that, but is understanding. Kagaya assures her that Obanai is nearby so he'll send him over right away to help.

Iguro, getting a mission from Oyakata-sama, of course drops everything he is doing to start running in that direction, listening to the details as he goes so as not to delay. He's already made it a long way before the crow mentions anything about it being Yoshiwara, and Iguro grinds to a halt. Then then says to the crow, "Yoshiwara? That place is crawling with women."

"C-A-A-A-W. YES. YOSHIWA-A-A-R-A-A-A, C-A-A-A-W."

"But that--you see, I--hm," he looks back and forth at the ground, until Kaburamaru bites him and Iguro realizes he's being ridiculous and a mission is a mission. He continues running and arrives when Kanao is in dire straights. He winds up saving her from getting sliced to bits, and Uzui feels just enough freedom in his fight with Gyutaro down below to smile and yell his thanks up to him, after all, he's just borrowing that Tsuguko.

"I may have saved her," he says, with Kanao under one arm like a rolled up rug, "but I can't do anything for you once Kochou gets her hands on you."

So then we get SNAKE BREATH .VS. OBI and it looks a-m-a-a-a-zing especially because Ufotable likes to show off with twisty objects throughout the air snaking their way through and against each other in the first place. Kanao finds herself back on the ground, helping Uzui against Gyutaro. She manages well in avoiding Gyutaro's attacks, but dodging isn't going to get her any closer to Gyutaro's neck! She considers using the Final Form to find an opening, but then she's distracted by the perilous state Uzui is in under the poison. His hand gets chopped off, he's going down, stopping his own heart... but fortunately for Uzui, this is Shinobu's Tsuguko, and she is well-supplied! She pulls a surprise all-purpose anti-poison potion from her belt (she has a lot of those, it seems) and stabs Uzui with it, Uzui gets the recharge he needed, and having been so close to death, he gets the last burst of inspiration he needed to complete his Score! Plus, all that stuff about Red Blades? Yeah, let's give him one. Uzui uses a Red Blade to behead Gyutaro, with Kanao's help to do stuff like hit Gyutaro with a wisteria-laced sneak attack and slice off his arm before he gets a shot at Uzui's eye. Look! I'm not just saving lives, I'm saving eyes!!

So Uzui and Iguro take the heads at the same time, Iguro not taking much credit because of course Daki wasn't an Upper Moon, she was weak, Uzui might as well deserve the credit. It was only Upper Moon Six, after all.

"Only Upper Moon Six? My, my, then I suppose you didn't need any extra help from Kanao."

"Kochou... hi..."

Shinobu was late to arrive, but she's armed with medicine to treat Uzui right away. He'll need some time to recover and won't be walking off the battlefield without extra help to keep him from toppling over, but the poison isn't going to have lasting effects. Shinobu has let him off easy for now, he knows she's going to give him an earful later.

Actually, what she has in mind is worse, and sends chills down his smile as she smiles and says, "Oyakata-sama would like a few words with you once you're feeling better." As for Kanao, she goes up to her already intending to do the lecturing herself, and though she's very angry, she can't fight the tiny tears in the corners of her eyes now finally finding their way out, for she was so worried.

"Hey, Tsuyuri!" Uzui calls over his shoulder to her just before Shinobu is about to open her mouth. "Looks like you got to do what you wanted to!"

Shinobu looks over her shoulder at him and Kanao blinks, confused. "Eh?"

He smiles, looking over all the wreckage. "They're all free now, aren't they? Phew! That's one flamboyantly selfish heart of yours, better keep listening to it and don't let anyone stand in its way."

Kanao smiles, then feels some peace come over her nerves as she faces Shinobu. "I'm sorry, Shihan. This was what I wanted to do."

[skylarkking]

So remember Equinox? The character I gave a weird backstory too?

This guy? Weeeeeellll what if I made him the b@stard child. Sure I'd have to redesign him and give him some of Megatron's attributes and shit but hey! New lore idea

Infodump under cut

So he is the bastard son of Megatron and Ultra Magnus right? Specifically Ultra Magnus is also momma Maggie in this case. Anyway, similar plot with him attending the academy and meeting Longarm BUT his abilities are tweaked. He has insane reflexes and his processing speed is so fast that he can predict movement before it happens. So he has the spidey sense still.

His story is similar to how it was but with some changes.

He is put into the academy so that Ultra Magnus could keep a close eye on him while keeping him safe. Of course the others don't know that he's the Magnus's son and this includes Shockwave in his Longarm disguise.

Shockwave only found out about it after overhearing Equinox talking to his carrier on a video feed.

When Shockwave reported this to the warlord, Megatron immediately ordered Shockwave to keep Equinox safe until.he arrived. When questioned about it Shockwave would learn that, before the war, he and Ultra Magnus were a fling. Megatron did not realize that Ultra Magnus was sparked until a report from one of his spies informed him of the news shortly after the fling ended.

Megatron had been searching for Equinox since then so that he may reprogram him to be the heir to the Decepticon cause.

So here comes Shockwave pretending to care about Equinox. He didn't calculate however that he would eventually begin to care. That fact would come to fruition after Starscream had almost killed Equinox during his escape from the Elite Guard.

Shockwave would be by Equinox's side as he recovered and his feelings for the Autobot would grow and grow. When Equinox was well enough to leave the medical facility Shockwave would assign him as his second in command just so he could make sure Equinox did not get hurt again.

At first Shockwave justified it as part of his mission. But he quickly would realize that was a big fat lie. He loved Equinox.

But he couldn't let those feelings get in the way, even when his disguise was discovered by Equinox.

When Equinox found out who Longarm really was he did something Shockwave was not expecting. He didn't run or freak out. Instead, he became curious about the massive mech. He fawned over him and admired his frame in such a way that threw Shockwave way off guard.

Shockwave should have killed him, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Unfortunately Ultra Magnus and agent Blurr would not react as kindly.

Equinox would try to stop Blurr from hurting Shockwave but would end up getting shot at by Blurr to 'detain him for treason'. Shockwavw would attack the speedster and almost get him, but Blurr would manage to escape and report the incident. Shockwave would take the unconscious and injured Equinox along with Arcee back to Megatron

When Equinox came to he would be laid down on a berth and he'd overhear Shockwave speaking to Megatron. Careful not to rouse suspicion Equinox would strain to listen in and hear and that's how he finds out that his sire is the notorious warlord.

Of course Equinox freaks the fuck out and shuts down from shock.

Still working out the tweaks lore wise but this is what I got for now

[darklydeliciousdesires]

London Will Burn - Chapter Eleven.

I'm so sorry it's late, guys! Blame my Chromebook, it just didn't want to do it. Agh! Anyway, I hope you enjoy it, as always :)

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten

Tag list - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed

Words - 4,505

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI.

The wind was chilly against his cheeks as he walked through the park, but otherwise, March had arrived in a bloom of sunshine, Sean knowing he was early, but designing it that way. Being late would likely aggravate the mother of his child, and he didn’t want to give her further reason to stack against her dislike of him. 

Geniality and Sean didn’t often go hand in hand, but he was learning that in this instance, they truly had to. He had to make nice for Tiger, to even stand a chance of being included in her life. Lateness would be frowned upon by her mother, very much so. Again, it was yet another thing Rin held over him now in terms of power, and by god, did it piss him off.  

It irked him because he knew she likely derived much pleasure from it. Even more so that he deserved it.  

He did hope that they could move forward away from it all now, though, now they’d had it out with one another. His hopes were for a smooth relationship in co-parenting their daughter, and he wasn’t about to let his ego get in the way of that, regardless of what she would do with her own.  

Sitting down on the bench outside of the small, gated off playground area, he scanned the surroundings, seeing that he wasn’t the only one who had arrived early. There she was, being pushed on a swing by her mum, demanding she be sent higher into the air. 

He’d been much the same himself at six.  

“Come on, little mouse.” Halting the swinging when she spied Sean, Rin lifted her from the seat, taking her hand. “Look, mummy’s friend is here, and look at the lovely dog he’s brought with him to see you, too!” 

He couldn’t keep the smile from his face as he watched her drag her mum over the woodchip and out of the gate, impatient to reach him. Well, he sensed her excitement was more focused upon Butch, who sat with his ears pricked.  

“Hi! I’m Tiger, who are you and what’s your dog called?” 

Straight to the point, no messing around. Apples and trees and all that. “I’m Sean, and this is Butch.” 

“Hi, Sean. Hi, Butch! Is he friendly, can I stroke him?” 

Her enthusiasm continued to delight him. God, she was so cute. “He is, and yes you may.” 

“Awww, he’s really soft! Mummy, feel his head!”  

Rin obliged, reaching to stroke his crinkles. “He is, isn’t he? What a sweet boy. Hello, Butch, hello!” She smiled, turning to Sean. “You don’t strike me as the dog type at all. Who did you borrow him from?” 

“Nobody,” he confirmed, rooting in his pocket. “Tiger, hold your hand out and ask him to give you his paw and he shall. Then reward him with this.” He placed the treat into her hand, Butch almost cracking the ground with the thump of his sit. “He’s my dog,” he then continued, Rin arching an eyebrow in surprise.  

“Paw!” the child asked, Butch obediently placing it upon her hand. “Good boy!” The treat was fed, Tiger giggling with mirth. “Sean, can I walk him, please?”  

“Of course.” He then turned to her mother. “She’ll be fine, he’s impeccably well behaved. I’ll hang onto the top of the lead, just in case of pigeons.” 

“Alright.” They got up, Sean handing the first handle loop upon the long lead to Tiger, keeping hold of the last one himself as they set off along the path. “Tiger, don’t run. Just walk nicely with him,” she instructed, her daughter turning to poke out her tongue, Rin returning the gesture. She then turned to Sean, who’s smile was yet to diminish. “She’s lovely, isn’t she?” 

He pointed at her, swallowing a lump in his throat. “I can’t believe something that beautiful came from me. She’s... luminous. She’s so bold and confident. It’s a lot to take in, so pardon me if I’m at a loss for further words.” 

Rin smiled. “It’s fine. I’d say I get it, but I don’t. I’ve been with her since the start whereas you haven’t.” 

A darkness crossed his features, but it quickly vanished. “I wish I had been.” 

“I know.” Seeing him there, the way he reacted to their child, it was the Sean she had come to know seven years before. If she was honest, she wished he had been there, too. It would have been too much of an ask, though, for her to have let him back in at that time. To make sure she did not was why she’d ended up in Africa, after all. Her parents had wanted her and the baby as far away from Sean Wallace as they could physically get them.  

“So, tell me about her,” he requested, turning to look down at Rin. She seemed far away for a moment, her frown eventually lifting as she brought herself back from it, the exile to Africa, from looking at her newborn and every day watching her grow more and more into the image of her father.  

“As you say, she’s very confident, very sure of herself. Because of her upbringing, she’s firmly rooted in nature. She was very confused at why she couldn’t go and play with the lion cubs at London Zoo when we visited recently, since of course she was able to fuss them back at the reserve when they were tiny. She’s settled well into school over here, but she does miss home, so I intend to take her back whenever time permits during half term. Her favourite things are anything artistic, and she enjoys reading.”  

Again, he had been much the same when he was six.  

An awkward silence followed, the two people who still held one another in varying degrees of contempt forced into civility for the sake of their child, both focusing upon her rather than one another.  

“So, why the dog?” Rin finally asked, nodding to where Butch trotted along obediently beside his new companion. 

Because his life had fallen apart and left him chronically lonely, with nobody other than a brother he only saw once a week and a sister even less than that, due to their conflicting schedules. He wasn’t about to reveal that, though. “I like dogs. I’ve been meaning to get one for a while, but obviously the last couple of years have not been the ideal time for facilitating such.” 

She snorted softly. “I’ll say.” Watching him fall from afar had given her pleasure for a time, and if she was honest, it still did. She wasn’t entirely made of stone, though. “I was sorry, to hear of your father’s fate.”  

“So was I, in the beginning.” His jaw tensed, remembering everything that had come from it, the life Finn had hidden from them all, how he had screwed them, screwed him, ultimately. His eyes met Rin’s, shame tightening his lips. “His true intentions softened the blow somewhat.” 

“You must be still reeling from it, I would imagine. If not him, then your mother’s duplicitous nature. Has she made attempts to reconnect with you?” 

His eyebrows knitted. “All the bloody time.”  

Marian was still around in their world, but not the capacity she had once been. She now worked for Ed, cast down in the pecking order by Rin herself, but with a close eye kept upon her, should she attempt to rise once more. “I cannot say I blame you for not wanting her back in your life. Not after what she did to you and Billy.” 

“Okay, that’s enough of the lamentation towards my fucking shattered family, Catherine,” he warned quietly, fixing her with a glare.  

She looked unfazed. “I’m not persisting to aggravate you, Sean. Truly, I have little else to talk to you about. The silence makes me uncomfortable.” 

“It never used to.” 

She scoffed, shaking her head. “A lot of things were different back then.”  

They just couldn’t help themselves, the little swipes, both frosting over and remaining silent, Tiger gladly breaking the tension after a terse couple of minutes. 

“Mummy, are we still going to feed the ducks?” 

“Yes, little mouse. Take a right when we reach these trees ahead,” she replied, pointing to where the footpath forked.  

“Sean, are you and Butch coming with us?” 

“We are, yes.” More silence followed, Sean feeling his insides unclench when Tiger began asking him questions, what he did for a job, how old Butch was, what was his house like, and then narrating to him all about her home back in Africa and how she preferred it there.  

He played nothing short of a captive audience while listening to her, remarking at how well she spoke, even for such a tender age. What got him the most, though, was when they arrived at the pond and she reached to grasp a dainty hand around his fourth and fifth fingers, marching him over to the edge where the ducks were waiting.  

“You go,” Rin offered, grabbing Butch’s lead, pulling a bag of defrosted peas out of her handbag and swapping them. “I’ll stay back here with the chunky fella, just in case his thoughts over ducks match those toward pigeons.” 

He widened his eyes. “Oh, trust me. They do.”  

She snickered softly, pulling back the excited dog when he began to strain against the hold of his harness, moving to a nearby bench to observe the interaction between father and daughter. It was a warming sight, watching the easy interaction, taking her by surprise from Sean’s perspective for sure. He took to it like the very birds upon the pond before them, crouching down as he pointed to the ducks, explaining what each type was to Tiger.  

“I like the swans, they’re so pretty!” 

“Very cantankerous, though.” 

“Sean, what does cant-cank... that word you just said mean?” 

He chuckled softly, reaching for another handful of peas. “Cantankerous means bad tempered, as swans usually are. Hear that noise? They’re hissing at the others because they want all of the peas for themselves.” 

“Bad swans!” Tiger admonished, “greedy birds! Pretty and greedy!” When the hissing offenders swam a little too close for comfort, she moved into his embrace, Sean lifting her into his arms as he stood, Tiger continuing to pelt the grateful ducks with the contents of the bag, the swans hissing abated slightly. “What’s that one over there, Sean? The one going under the water?” 

“Hmm, I don’t know if I’m honest. Shall we ask mummy?”  

Rin wasn’t sure why it was, exactly, but she felt her throat pinch at hearing him say that, Sean turning to her expectantly. “I’ll Google it.” She knew it was a Bufflehead, but needed a moment to compose herself from bursting into tears. “Bufflehead.” she called after a few moments, the lump in her throat swallowed down.  

“That’s a silly name,” Tiger mused, up ending the rest of the bag before handing it back to her dad. “Can we go back to the swings now, please?” 

“I don’t see why not.” he told her, placing her down. Once again, she grabbed his hand, Rin and Butch joining them as Tiger began to detail exactly which ducks she was going to draw once she arrived home. Immediately, the lump returned.  

“I must be fucking ovulating or something,” she thought, aghast at her own emotional vulnerability, witnessing what in truth was exactly what she had hoped for, a successful first meeting between Tiger and her father. “Fucking pull yourself together, Catherine.”  

Conveniently, Butch decided to lower his bum at the side of the path, Rin nicely distracted by the imminent poo to collect into a bag, taking one from the small reel clipped onto his lead.  

“You don’t have to clean up after my dog, Rin,” Sean spoke on approach. She had straightened with a knotted bag in no time, though, Butch kicking up grass and leaves in the wake of his deposit.  

“Well, I cleaned up your child’s shitty bum for the first two years until she was out of nappies, so cleaning up one dog turd is no big stretch,” she mentioned quietly, so those very little ears of said child did not overhear her statement.

He smiled, his eyebrows fluttering. “I would have done my share there, too. And the getting up during the night to tend to the obligatory newborn squealing.” 

She believed he would have, exchanging a gaze with him for a few moments, remembering the time so well. “There wasn’t much of that, she was a very good baby, very quiet.” Tiger had been, too. Sometimes Rin had even had to wake her for a feed or nappy change, so enamoured with sleep as the infant had been.  

“Perhaps she isn’t quite as like me as I thought.” His statement stirred her soft laughter, the three of them continuing to walk, Butch pottering along with his nose to the ground. “She is a credit to you, though. A very lovely child.”  

Thinning her lips, she nodded. “Thank you. I’m glad you’re both getting along.”  

They remained at the park for a further hour until the light began to fade, heading their separate ways, Rin stating that they could perhaps meet up again the following Saturday for lunch. Sean walked back to his car on a cloud he hadn’t felt in a long time, happiness abounding for having spent some time with his daughter, even though of course she had no clue over that. For him, it was good enough that he knew who he was to her. 

Rin had also been warmer with him for the most part, although of course they’d fallen into a little biting badinage here and there. He had to expect that, though. He had some serious work to do in order to be seen as anything more than A – the man who had sold her trust via such nefarious means in secretly filming them having sex or B – a man who hid money through his company for her. 

He had to be more than that.  

He’d failed at showing his father that he could be anything more than he’d once estimated. Sean knew as he drove away from the park, he would not fail another. Especially not his own daughter. Not that she was the one who had to see him in any other light, of course, but to have a proper relationship with her, it meant her mother did.  

His week passed in a blur of meetings, construction site attendance, trips to Birmingham and Manchester to meet with his new teams in both cities, Sean sitting at a table within a small restaurant just off the King’s Road before he knew it.  

“How did Birmingham go?” Rin asked, squeezing lemon over her calamari, shaking her head at her daughter, who had ordered the same and was biting into the wedge provided, Sean looking on in disbelief. “She likes sharp flavours.”  

“As it would appear.” Tiger noticed being watched, smiling a very gummy smile at her parents, missing another baby tooth since she’d seen her dad last. “Birmingham was successful. Greg Bennett isn’t nearly as difficult as others have made out to be, but a complete t-o-s-s-e-r all the same.”  

Rin was impressed, both at the spelling of bad language to save her daughter’s ears, and the fact Sean hadn’t been dented by the Birmingham project manager whom she’d heard so many mixed reviews over. A man great at his job, but with an insufferably arrogant attitude.  

Luckily, since she was the silent, illegitimate footing in the Wallace Corporation, and Sean the face of the legitimate side, she’d never have to deal with him. She couldn’t deny though, if he had returned and told her he’d been in any way irked by Greg’s demeanour, she’d probably have found a certain amount of Schadenfreude. The more mature side of her realised that wasn’t conducive for smoothly running business, though, so put aside her need to needle the father of her child for then, at least.  

She managed to do so whenever they met up for him to spend time with Tiger, as it began to become apparent with more of the meetings that passed, but in business? It was a different story entirely. Especially when Sean managed to score points over her for a change.  

The warehouses that bordered along the docks owned by Cavanagh Enterprises were deserted at 11pm, the time Rin had called a meeting between her and the figureheads of London’s underworld. A few forklifts shuttled around, carrying cargo, but far from the warehouse Sean walked into after stepping from his car, instructing the driver to wait. He’d been on his way home from a late business dinner when she had called, demanding his presence.  

Nodding to Sokoro and Silas, the latter patted him down for weapons, taking his gun from him before swinging the heavy door open, the only lights visible coming from the far side of the huge space, shining down into an area between the lined up packing crates. Once he arrived within it, he witnessed an already present Rin, along with Kingsley Adeoye, head of the Nigerian gangs and more notably, Lale, Ed and Luan as well as their various associates. Bar the latter, it was the first time he’d seen any of them in months. 

He viewed them all coolly with a nod, not expecting for Ed to move away and step to him.  

“If we can sweep the past behind us, Sean,” he began in earnest, his demeanour that of humbleness which matched his words. “For Alex, and for what we once had. A fresh slate?”  

His response was delivered just as coolly as his first glance. “Done away with your desires to see me dead and buried now, Ed?”  

He’d expected such, knowing Sean rarely forgave or forgot quite so easily. “Your value within our world has been reminded to me, shall we say. And once, you were valuable to me besides that. I would sincerely like for us to move forward once more.” 

“And the value of my mother to you?” Immediately, Ed looked uncomfortable, pausing in his retort. “I think there is too much water under the bridge to begin sweeping that past away for now.” Stepping around him, he moved to the far corner to stand away from the rest, feeling the stare of Lale boring into the side of his head.  

Fantastic. Two scorned lovers and a man he’d once thought of as an uncle trying to make good once again. He wished he’d turned his phone off and been unreachable in the face of such. The space between them was then entered by Luan, the big bear of a man nodding at Sean as he discreetly made a series of gestures with his hand.  

“Rock, Sean Wallace, hard place.”  

He couldn’t help but let a slight smile tilt his lips, even if it was at his expense, Luan giving him a soft elbow to the arm as his own smile grew beneath the bush of his beard. “The more I learn your language, the more I like these English sayings. There is an Albanian one that I think perhaps applicable to you right now.” He paused, watching Sean’s eyebrow flutter curiously. “Kush ka turp vdes per buke.”  

“And that means?” 

“Those prone to shame die from hunger.”  

Wise words, he thought. Especially since shame was the emotion the two women present would have liked him to suffocate from for his misdeeds towards them. Looking towards Rin, she paced slowly in a line, checking her watch every so often, the sound of a vehicle entering the warehouse filling the space after a few silent minutes.  

The man he recognised as Marcus, one of Rin’s henchmen stepped out, going into the back and pulling out a bound and gagged Iranian man, who already looked as if he’d taken a considerable beating, he and the man he knew to be called Atticus dragging him into the space. A large hook hung from the overhead beams upon a chain, the men lifting his struggling body to suspend him from it. Rin reached for his gag, pulling it from his mouth, his tirade beginning immediately. 

“Who the fuck do you think you are, huh? Do you think you’re your goddamned father? Fucking little bitch, how fucking dare you! I did nothing to you, nothing!” 

Rin rolled her eyes, her fist meeting his solar plexus. He was quiet then for a moment. “Oh, cut the bullshit, Bahram. I had all of this crap from your predecessor. I had hoped you’d be different, but no.” She then turned to the assembled figureheads, gesturing back to Bahram. “We had five kilograms of heroin go missing from these very docks two days ago, as well as a quarter of a shipment of guns. I firmly believe this to be the work of the Persian’s, who have been set against me since my takeover. Understandably, we need this problem irradicated.” 

“It wasn’t him.”  

Her eyes narrowed at the interruption, turning to watch as Sean stepped forward. “I beg your pardon?” 

“You heard, Catherine. It wasn’t Bahram.” He paused, smirking, knowing he had one up on her and absolutely delighting in it. “Remember when I mentioned to you that lack of a poker face you suffer? Well, you aren't the only person here present who lacks such. Your father was the messiah of reading faces, as was mine, and mine taught me well how to read the innermost emotions, all from a flicker of facial muscles.”  

Her heart began to race, a tight feeling of uncomfortableness pinching at her muscles, Sean continuing. “You see, every single person in this room reflected their thoughts upon hearing they’d been ripped off accordingly in how they wore their facial expressions. All except for one. One who immediately looked nothing short of smug, to see you’d pointed the finger of accusation toward another.”  

He reached quickly for her gun, turning it upon the one man whose face had given him away. “Where’s our product, Kingsley?” 

“What the fuck, Sean?” he spluttered, laughing.  

“You fucking heard me. I asked you where the product was. I believe you have been in receipt of a fuckload of contraband not destined for your greedy hands exclusively.” The atmosphere grew tense, the men employed by Rin all drawing their weapons to point right at the Nigerian and his three associates, Kingsley’s eyes swivelling.  

Sean then moved speedily, grasping the man standing closest to him, pressing the gun against his head. “Tell me. Tell me now, or it’s your son here who suffers.” 

Kingsley chuckled darkly. “You don’t have the balls, Wallace. Just like she is not her father,” he nodded at Rin, his gold toothed smirk growing, “you are not Finn Wallace.” 

“No, I am not.” Aiming the gun down, he blew a hole straight into the knee of Uzoma, his father’s eyes widening in horror as his boy screamed in agony. “I’m fucking worse. Now, before I blow his other knee out, you’d better begin talking. The boss is waiting.”  

Rin stood tight lipped with her arms folded, her eyes glittering dangerously as she waited, Kingsley remaining on mute. Looking to Sean, she watched him shrug before swiftly firing another slug straight into Uzoma’s right knee, the man collapsing with a shriek. 

“Dad, fucking tell them! Please!” he pleaded, confirming Sean’s suspicions.  

“it’s his head next, Kingsley.”  

“Please, dad!” 

Kingsley balled his fists, hissing in rage. “Fuck!” He paced, rubbing his hands down his face with heavily adorned fingers, the gold of his rings twinkling in the low light. “The African Market on Manning Road, E10. Your guns and heroin are there. Just let my boy go.” 

With a single nod from Rin, her men exterminated the Nigerian’s present. “Cut him down.” She ordered, nodding in the direction of Bahram as the embarrassment of being wrong warmed her cheeks and slithered through her stomach like an eel. She turned to Sean, taking her gun back, her jaw set. “A word.” 

He followed her from the warehouse, the cool night air whipping across his face as it blew in over the water, rounding the corner to have her turn, her fist meeting his eye.  

“What the fuck, Catherine?” 

“How dare you fucking make me look like an idiot in front of everyone, you little snake!” 

He could barely believe her gall. “Make you look like an idiot? No. You did that all by yourself, stringing up a man who had fuck all to do with the theft on pure suspicion alone. In this world, you check your facts, or you come unstuck. Imagine how fucking unadhered you would have become, had I not alerted you to the true perpetrators!” 

“Oh, and you fucking loved every second of it, didn’t you?” she hissed, the tendons in her neck popping as she gritted her teeth. 

“With how much of a bitch you are to me concerning all things business then yes. Yes, I fucking did take pleasure in needling you back for once, but trust me, I did it to stop you from getting yourself hunted down by the fucking Persian mafia above anything else. But of course, you and your insufferable arrogance, you likely don’t see that at all, do you?” 

The embarrassment of it all, her first big rookie mistake as a leader did nothing but continually wash against her insides like acid, Rin loathing the fact he was right. “If you think you’re seeing Tiger next week after this, you can forget it, Sean.”  

He lunged, Rin quick to raise her gun, finding her wrist gripped hard as he charged her back against the warehouse, slamming her hand into the bricks until she released it, his other hand curling around her throat. “Do not use our fucking child against me.” 

She smirked, panting for breath, their noses touching as he imposed himself further upon her. “Or you’ll do what?” 

“Hang you out to dry with the fucking Persian mafia instead of smoothing things over. I know them, I’ve dealt with them for years. With my intervention, I can make all of this go away. Without it, your arse is in more trouble than your alleged clout can get you out of. Choice is fucking yours, Catherine.”  

She snarled at him, but her eyes, oh, how he read her so flawlessly. “While you’re making that choice, I implore you, become more efficient in reading people. You might also want to do better at hiding what lurks beneath within yourself, too.” 

“What the fuck is that meant to mean?” she spluttered, his grip tightening upon her throat, lips curling into a grin as he leaned to her ear, the skim of his lips sending a forest fire right through her. 

“We both know exactly what it means.”  

He left her there burning, with more than just fury at what his actions had provoked.  

[meekmedea]

roommates

Inspired by @tumblingghosts comment about the troublesome trio moving in with one another.

Funnily enough, I was rereading an old fic of mine and I can't believe I didn't make these 3 roommates in that AU. Nia & Clemmie had moved in while Felix lived like a floor or two above them. Close enough tho... right?

Anyways, the idea of the trio moving in together wouldn't be happening for some time. Post Academy days, maybe for their University years?

Felix probably spawns the idea during finals. "Wouldn't it be funny if we..."

At first, it's like a joke. "Let's go look at this open house!" They pretend to be interested when they visit the listings. But then the more places they look at, the more they're like...it's not that bad of an idea.

The original plan is to get an apartment. But then they started talking rooms. Obviously they each get a bedroom. Then there's all sorts of other things they want in their shared home and suddenly an apartment is too small for them.

Back to the drawing board. Maybe they go the route the Plinths did in TBOSAS? They buy 2 flats and convert it into a penthouse? Or they could directly go the penthouse route.

How they convinced their parents is a miracle - I wish I could explain it too. Maybe it was a combination of good grades + not being kidnapped/getting into that much chaos.

Endymion asks if he should set up speed-dial for emergency services on their landline. (He's only half joking.)

`

Location-wise:

Maybe not the Corso - it's pricey and all the well-off families are there. Which means everyone pretty much knows everyone and they'll probably be sort of 'spied on' by nosy socialites.

Their parents/relatives are probably slightly disappointed about this though.

Downtown maybe? It's the centre of everything and they're young, they want to have a certain degree of freedom but also not be super isolated from everyone.

Other Reactions:

Livia is a bit disappointed that Clemmie never thought to ask her to move in together. She (probably) wouldn't have said 'yes', but it's the thought that counts, you know?

Livia also rubs in Coryo's face that she was invited first to the penthouse once the trio has moved in.

Coryo resists the urge to throttle Felix when he becomes unbearable in 'insinuating' that obviously Clemmie likes him as a friend way more. This is probably also one of those times that Clemmie pretends not to know either boy because you'd think she's only allowed to have one male friend by the way they're acting.

President Ravinstill is a bit concerned about the possible consequences - he's unfortunately well-accquianted to the chaos the trio can get into.

You know how Endymion joked about putting emergency services on speed dial for the trio's landline? Pres. Ravinstill takes that a LOT further. He decides to put down the order that IF anything happens to the trio's place, heads will roll if they don't make it first priority.

The crime rate around their block is at an all-time low once the trio moves in.

The Trio Living Together:

Cooking - it's take out for the first few weeks. Or like leftovers from when they visit their family. Very basic cooking (on Felix + Iphigenia's end), Clemmie can cook a bit better - mostly due to her past life. Also Endymion made sure his daughter knew how to cook at least 2 dishes from the family cook before letting her go off.

After a while, they come to a conclusion: we should learn to cook. (1) School has barely started and already becoming a regular at the local restaurant isn't exactly an accomplishment... (2) I'm getting tired of take out + leftovers.

Definitely some trial and error with cooking. Some days are better than others. Nia takes measurements very seriously (it's okay, Nia. A pinch of salt is really just a pinch.) Felix does not. (Felix, please. There is a difference between 1 tablespoon of salt and 1 teaspoon of salt.)

Weekends can be very busy or empty in the penthouse. They're often visiting their families for lunch/dinner. Or they're getting ready to go out.

Cleaning - neither of the trio are super messy and do clean up after themselves. But they also have a maid that comes in on Wednesdays to clean. (Their parents made them agree to this - they weren't sure if these 3 could live alone and survive.)

Bonus:

Despite their parents' jokes, there's no freak fire/flooding in their first semester at University. Technically.

There may or may not be an incident where the fire station was called right after their finals season. It was small, promise. It didn't even make the news.

More AU thoughts/rambles can be found here :)

[pocketramblr]

It was revealed at the jump fest that Horikoshi initially planned for Naomasa to be an ally of AFO's who spied for him. Obviously it was scrapped later on. Now I'm thinking about all those Kurogiri is Naomasa theories that were prominent with them comparing the similar ties...

Anonymous asked: In honor of this revelation, can we get an AU where Naomasa was indeed sent to spy on All Might by AFO, but ended up falling for his target.

1- AfO stole his nifty truth detector quirk from Naomasa's father before killing him a bit before Makoto was born. As far as the Tsukauchi's mother knows, AfO is her husband's brother who helped out a lot at the time. Naomasa is the only one who knows his Uncle is lying, and he hates it, but can't tell anyone the truth because Uncle made it clear that Naomasa must pay him back for protecting his little sister and his mom. Naomasa has to be the one to teach Makoto how to manage her lie detecting quirk, has to get good grades to get to the police academy like Uncle orders, and has to not be suspicious.

2- Here, Naomasa meets All Might earlier, for a certain definition of "meet"- AfO worked hard to get them in contact on cases, but All Might is busy fighting twenty hours a day and doesn't really do the paperwork part of his job so actual communication with Naomasa is rare. Which, he's fine with, the less there is he has to pass on to his Uncle

3- When Naomasa first meets Toshinori, he actually thinks he's another spy for AfO placed closer to All Might after Uncle's injury, though he says nothing to verify that. Still, he's friendly - and then he learns he's All Might, and he starts hiding information on purpose from Uncle for the first time. He doesn't ask him for help yet though, he can't.

4- that changes after the Sky Egg incident, when All Might saves Makoto and everyone else. Naomasa waits until his sister is safe in the States, far away and not coming back soon, before he goes to Toshinori. He begs him not say anything, just to listen from the other room. Toshinori, worried, agrees, and then Naomasa takes a call from his Uncle. Toshinori recognizes the voice, and Naomasa confirms that he's alone in the room before answering other questions, carefully selecting what information to give before his Uncle hangs up. Toshinori stares at him. Naomasa looks down. "He doesn't know about you wound, or weakened form. My father... Used to have a lie detecting quirk too, you know. But he died quirkless. Anyway. I'm sorry. That's the truth."

Toshinori stares, silent, for a few more minutes. Then he says "and now, you can honestly say you never told anyone about what you did, or what he did."

"yeah. I hope I can, anyway."

To attempt to make up for what he's already given AfO, Naomasa starts passing information the other way... And does a lot of Toshinori's paperwork.

5- UA is a stressful time, with Naomasa called in to help after USJ and Uncle expecting to be told how far along the heroes are in their attempts to find him, and UA would really like Naomasa's help in sniffing out their own mole. But they manage, and Naomasa, who's been in love with Toshinori a few years at this point and said nothing, sees Toshinori so bright and happy as he ruffles Izuku's hair, and thinks seeing the real smile on the blond's face must be better than even kissing it like he sometimes is embarrassed to dream about.

(he gets a kiss later- Naomasa is furious when he discovers the mole. Not at Yuga- at his parents. Naomasa's father died before working for AfO, and his mother would have done the same, but these two are the ones who invited him in, who basically sold him their son! he's down to imprison the parents, or leave them to AfO, but not Yuga, who'd be better served hidden abroad. Toshinori watches him pace angrily about this before taking his hand, and saying he's unhappy too, but his student doesn't blame his parents and also might be liable to explode if he flees. Then Toshi promises to ensure AfO pays for what he's done, that Yuga and Naomasa and himself and Izuku and everyone will have peace when this is over. Naomasa disagrees - one, he's planning on being imprisoned himself after the war, and two, Toshinori shouldn't go out there, shouldn't get himself killed. Toshi just kisses the back of his hand though and leaves, saying it'll be all right and he'll see him later.)

[bagheerita]

finally finished DS9 and decided to post some thoughts in one big blob

I was honestly about to give up on season 7 and put the rest of this show to the side for a few months, but then Ezri and Worf have a 3 episode arc sorting out their relationship, only talking to each other because they're marooned/imprisoned, and I was so charmed by them being loud and messy that I managed to bull my way through to the end. I love the two of them as friends, they are adorable. 

I actually really like Damar and his arc, and it’s pretty rare I say that about a character who killed my favorite. 

I feel like the reason Section 31 exists, and they keep forcing episodes about it upon me, is because they wrote themselves into a corner with inventing the changeling disease to kneecap an unbeatable enemy and didn’t know how else to fix it/end the war except with secret secret spies. 

Ezri has this whole speech she gives to Worf about dismantling structures of power and I feel like they needed to end the show before anyone was like, hey the Federation kind of sucks and we should definitely do that. 

Garak’s mom showed up and everything was good in the world again.

Ezri and Julian are like “can’t deny the chemistry.” lol babes that's called being a young attractive allosexual. "Chemistry" is what Worf and O'Brien have in all the scenes where they're mocking you.

I’ve never felt the truth of the phrase “I support women’s wrongs” so intensely as I do with Kai Winn. I love her and I want to give her everything. I didn't love her getting assaulted by Dukat, but when she knows everything that's happening and chooses the pah-wraiths anyway, yes fuck it up. When she poisoned Dukat I was like, hot damn if this character dies as a footnote in someone else's quest for power I will forgive everything that this show has put me through because of him. But we can't have nice things. I did like that her last act was to choose to take their victory from them, and give Sisko the clue he needed to beat them.

I do love Martok but I feel like he’s going to be about as good a chancellor as Robert Baratheon was a king. 

Odo is The Last Unicorn, but with brain-melding: he’s going to share his experience of loving a mortal with the other immortals. I still don’t “get” him and Kira as a couple, their relationship literally went from -20 to 100% after a single all night conversation locked in Jadzia's bathroom and no actual onscreen development, but at least I believe that they believe they’re in love. 

Why the ever loving fuck is Julian so obsessed with the Alamo. Every time they bring it up I want to grab him and Miles and shake them. I get that it's supposed to be some sort of metaphor for fighting a hopeless war, but really? You want to go up to the fake room where you can do/be literally anything and you're going to repeatedly reenact a battle where you die to defend your right to have slaves and practice settler colonialism??? Even in the last episode they’ve won the real war and they’re still obsessed with reenacting this old battle. They also spend that one episode trying to figure out how to win the Alamo… babes, that actually happened: it’s called the Battle of San Jacinto- learn some actual fucking history, your side won the war. This isn’t about metaphors anymore, the metaphor has failed, now Julian just has a neurosis.

The Dominion War plot line goes on for way too long and there is so little internal emotional catharsis. (Maybe because for me the things that were supposed to be cathartic just induced more rage? 🤔) The ending was fine as far as character wrap ups but felt pretty rushed considering how long it took us to get to this point, and I really think they needed more time to handle the denouement. The overall pacing of the episodes/seasons is terrible: you wasted like a season and a half puttering around, with whole episodes where you forgot to mention the war; you added in mirror-verse episodes without bothering to use them for story or character development; Quark is one of my favorite characters but there are too many episodes about Ferengi shenanigans that do not impact the actual plot; there are whole scenes and arcs dedicated to a character who does not (within the internal logic of the show) exist. And then you slammed all the development into the last half of the last season. I'm not surprised now that I forgot this entire show after watching it while airing because it’s emotionally exhausting. I've compared DS9 to SGA in the past, but the Dominion remind me of the Ori: You've killed the enjoyment I found in this show and have made it a chore to watch.

I do like that what ends the war is Julian’s determination and Odo’s compassion. You've proven the Founders wrong, but this entire plot thread was so poorly handled that I don't know that anyone remembers one mention from four seasons ago about why this war even started and, honestly, standing on a planet where you just murdered millions of children it's kind of not enough. I like that they let Garak kill the last Weyoun, and I adore the scene where he lets Kira take the phaser, but honestly he deserved more. It wouldn't solve anything, and I think there's a nice parallel in Garak's fears inspiring him into attempting genocide being incredible grounded in reality and the Founder's similar fears being negated, but he deserves it, the head Founder deserves to be torn into tiny pieces by grieving Cardassians, and I deserve to watch it. (I also desperately want Garak to find out about Section 31 and the changeling disease just so he can be like, "Oh so when I try to commit genocide I get 6 months in jail, but when the Federation wants to commit genocide that's okay?")

I don’t know who on the production team is so invested in Mark Alaimo getting a paycheck, but by the end Dukat as a character has long outlived any interesting qualities he may have had at one point. The final battle shit with the pah-wraiths was pretty underwhelming; except for the deeper exploration of Winn's motives that this season has allowed for, "The Reckoning" was such a better structured episode. (At least at this point they've let Kira go off and be awesome without being forced into episodes with Dukat. The sheer amount of abusive old men sexually attracted to much younger women in this show is frankly unnecessary; I will never be able to unhear Curzon say he flunked Jadzia from the symbiont program because he wanted to bang her, and Dukat’s relentless pursuit of Kira especially/even after we learn he sexually assaulted her mother is disgusting.) 

I have mixed feelings about Sisko, and his character having a “white savior” role with the Bajorans. Like, I guess it’s a cool twist that he’s a black white savior, maybe that's the best the 90s can do, but also can we decide to not write stories where we give foreigners positions of power over recently subjugated peoples??  I was feeling pretty yikes about it especially after the beginning of this season and learning that he was basically genetically bred by the Prophets for the position, but… I dunno, I’m probably not someone who can or should have a deep opinion about this. I do like that arc for him as a character outside of what it means for the Bajorans, but his ending feels too open. I wish we got to know more about what he learns from hanging out with the Prophets, and I wish that the great "sorrow" he suffers from disregarding the visions felt more concrete. Kassidy is really the only one sad about this, Sisko seems excited to exist outside of time. (And I feel like a lot of the "yikes" of the character could have been fixed by making the character be Bajoran? You wouldn't need to invent a reason why he was chosen by the Prophets. He could even have been raised on Earth and still have those ties, and I think it would have made the pull between his duty as an officer and his duty as the Emissary more interesting. Also can you imagine if Jake and Ziyal were both half Bajoran and hanging out with each other??? But they don't pay me to write shows.)

Why do Miles and Julian have the gayest final montage? It's literally the first of the montages and they start it up over "The Way You Look Tonight" and I was just like... wtf did I accidentally put in a fan video? Miles is the only person in a relationship who has a montage without any mention of their significant other, though I guess Worf's does jump from his first meeting with Sisko straight to season 5 clips so they didn't mention Jadzia either. I love that Miles and Julian have such a deep friendship, and I feel like this show could use more interrogation of the concept of love and the fact that platonic love/friendship is just as important as romantic love, but the production has spent so much time "no homo"ing every relationship they can think of that it just comes off as bizarre. 

All the bts things I’ve read about this show pretty much amount to the production being like “we had no idea what we were doing with this character” which, when combined with the failure to manage season structure and some of the utterly bonkers episodes this show threw out there, leads me to believe that pretty much anything I enjoyed about this show comes from the actors. This is definitely a show I feel like I’m going to be “rewatching” through fanfiction and gif sets before I ever rewatch the entire show again. 

[oneatlatime]

The Boy in the Iceberg

58 seconds in and I can already see why people say this show is gorgeous. Look at those colours! Although the double image around some of the line art is distracting.

Can water do that? Just have random fast currents in an otherwise pretty still ocean? Also, Catara couldn't have grabbed a spare paddle and helped? Actually they seemed screwed anyway. If they were going any faster they probably would have landed harder, or not on ice at all.

Judging by Sokka's lack of reaction to Catara's temper tantrum, I'd say she has that exact rant at least three times a week.

It's a face!

Maybe the giant orb created the current to summon them there?

Catara has no self-preservation instincts at all. Giant glowy orb washed up in front of you, don't poke it!

Tiger seals.

Solitaire. Neat.

That haircut is not good. Also a very unique choice for a voice. Wait this is Zuko? The guy everyone's obsessed with?

I love Appa already.

"this is Catara, my flying sister." A man after my own heart.

They really would have been stuck without Aang to offer a ride. What was their plan to get home?

Zuko is a prince? Hunting the avatar to reclaim his honour. Not sure how those two go together but ok. I guess 100 years ago the avatar stole a time-travelling Zuko's honour.

Appa can swim through the night? Why does he have six legs?

I didn't know this was a dream sequence at first and I was wondering where Sokka and Catara were. For future reference: dreams are brown.

Aang should have frozen to death by now. That's nowhere near enough clothes. And Catara can't be only just noticing the blue lines now.

Seems like the village has hit a rough patch.

If this is how catara reacts to a bald child, she's gonna spontaneously combust the first time she meets a teenage boy who isn't her brother. And how is an air bender going to teach her water bending?

Between the Appa snot and the watchtower gag, I sense Sokka will become the butt of many jokes.

You know, if you want him to actually learn, maybe tell him what he did wrong rather than reciting philosophical stuff and then shooting fire at his face? His presumably scarred face? Scarred presumably by fire? Kudos to Zuko for not flinching.

Is there a stick in Zuko's hair that's supporting it upright or does his hair just do that? Does Zuko have Pippi Longstocking hair? Speaking of hair, why does Catara have her hair like that? Surely that gets in the way of seeing stuff? It does look good when her hood is up though.

Good sneaky exposition dump Zuko. Didn't notice it until I thought about it after.

There's something hilarious yet tragic about Sokka spouting the wartime equivalent of live laugh love quotes and losing the battle with potty breaks. He has no idea what he's talking about but he believes in what he's saying so much.

Did Aang spend an hour in there?!?

So pretty.

Appa has six legs and penguins have four wings. Is the rule in this show that animals have 50% more appendages?

Last airbender smothered by penguins, more at 11.

"I haven't done this since I was a kid!" "You still are a kid!" That line feels like something that's going to come back.

Was the whole 'being a bender is showing no fear' or however that line went actually about bending, or do you really just want to explore the ship, Aang?

Gerbils at the south pole?

Would the fire nation send people back to rig a lost ship or are all fire nation ships rigged at all times and the crews are just used to working around the traps? Actually that would be a great way to catch spies.

I would jump to brain-damage induced amnesia from being trapped in an iceberg for a few hours before I'd ever think of a century long cryo-sleep. "it's the only explanation." Really?

All of these backgrounds are so pretty.

Air bending gets you some serious air. Those hops are stupid big, even accounting for cartoon physics.

I really like the end credits music. And according to the credits, I've been mispelling Katara's name this whole time.

Some final thoughts:

Katara (with a K) is too idealistic and trusting and Sokka is too cynical and suspicious. A perfect sibling pair. Also I love Sokka's sense of humour.

I like Aang's specific flavour of goofiness. He seems secure in himself and genuine. He has attention issues though.

Appa is a sea bison actually. Common misconception.

I like that they introduce the antagonist like 10 minutes into the first episode, but they're going to have to flesh him out way more before I read Zuko as anything other than an asshole. Also the voice is going to take a while to get used to. It's not that it doesn't fit the character design, it's just that I've never heard an actual human talk like that naturally. It's kind of muppet-like. Maybe he damaged his throat when he got that scar?

The voice acting is just superb. Even single lines like Gran Gran have distinct character. I did have to rewind a couple of times to catch what the old man with Zuko was saying.

The shading on the snow, the clouds and the skies, it's all so beautiful. You could watch this episode on mute and still be satisfied.

Katara is the only waterbender in the whole south pole, Sokka is the only man in the whole village, and Aang is the only air bender in the whole world. Gonna be a lot of lonely kids in this show. I sense a theme. I bet Appa is the only sea bison too.

Sokka is my favourite so far, but I think Aang is going to grow on me. Katara is a little bit too much of a Little Sister (TM) and Zuko just feels flat. But that just means more room to grow for both of them as characters. Of course Appa reigns supreme. I hope there's more of him in the next episode.

Even though this was half of a two-part episode, the cut off didn't feel abrupt. Maybe not a full self-contained story, but they left off at a perfect place.

Rereading this before posting, I asked a lot of quetsions. That's good! So many hooks to get me into the show, all in the first episode. I'm looking forward to the next one.