#i also hope others do not give into temptation to visit the same amount of bullying on them but I won't hold my breath

[vmures]

If you've done something horrific and want to apologize, you might want to avoid stating you are now a martyr. Kind of negates the apology by showing you aren't actually sorry for harming people, you're just sorry that others in your in group are mad at you for it.

It's also important to realize that no one owes you forgiveness for your actions. You have to do the work--understand why what you did was wrong, get help to deal why you behaved the way you did, and work to be a better person in the future.

None of it is easy, and you will likely have to deal with a whole lot of returned ugliness because of your actions. Are those people in the right to be just as ugly and awful as you, probably not. But they're just as human as you and reacting from a place of pain and trauma. Hopefully, they too will learn that lashing out is not the best action and that it creates a vicious cycle of ugliness. But painting yourself as the victim when you were the initial bad actor...looks really awful and strongly invalidates your apology.

Grace is one of the hardest things to offer when one is hurt and upset. Asking for it when your apology comes across as insincere and self serving...is not the greatest idea.

[cityofmeliora]

transcript: The Summoning + Sister Imperator's speeches

in chronological order:

LINCOPIA, OTROGOTHIA MAY 20, 2015 SISTER IMPERATOR: Brothers and Sisters, you know why you are here tonight. This Ministry is now seven years into The Ghost Project. Seven long years of work. Two Papas, two albums, one gold. These are indeed some respectable numbers, but let me give you some others. Churches opened: zero. Governments toppled: zero. World leaders converted to the cause: zero. You call yourselves salesmen? Masterminds? You have done shit! And don't blame the music. The music is the very manifestation of His Dark Majesty. And don't blame this fine merchandise! It's a disgrace! Papa 2 has been let go. He is a miserable, wounded, and bitter old man, and he is washed up! But let's look forward now. This is a new piece of music. And these are your new masks. And this is Papa 2's brother. He is a full 3 months younger. This man will take the band further than any of us could ever have imagined. I present to you now… Papa Emeritus III! The Summoning (part 1)

LINCOPIA, OTROGOTHIA AUGUST 10, 2015 The clergy has convened. The time for invocation has come. SISTER IMPERATOR: Brothers and Sisters, I realize the difficulty to get this message to you. It has become more dangerous than ever before to speak aloud our dark truths. But do not be dismayed. Papa Emeritus III knows of your commitment. But he needs more from you than this squirreling in secret, these whispers underground. It's time to act! In cities around the globe, his flock will be called. You will hear the call, like the voice of a siren, a temptation in your heart that can only be fulfilled by witnessing the ascension. And its music will rattle the hearts of the sleeping. You will gather in the rains of Seattle on August 18th, in the drought-stricken heat of Los Angeles on August 20th, in the lysergic deserts of Phoenix on August 21st, in the humid metropolis of Baltimore on August 22nd, and in the crowded streets of Brooklyn on August 23rd. You will meet in the record shops, where the authorities would never think to look! There is no master, there is only The Path. There is no destination, there are only winding steps. When the guitars are tuned and the Ghouls begin their invocations, there is only one thing left to do: shake off your slack social media chains, your cheap hunger for scandal and rumor! When the first chord is struck, you will turn to your neighbor next to you in the flesh, put your arm around them, and take back your humanity! You have already fallen! Hell is here! The time for ascension is now. The Summoning II: Unholy / Unplugged Tour (August 10, 2015)

Lincopia, Otrogothia August 11, 2015 The battle for Philadelphia SISTER IMPERATOR: Children of Philadelphia. You are a special city. We have been pleased with growing unrest and incivility toward Frankie's visit next month. And we were especially pleased to register a sold-out concert on the same day Frankie would be blathering to the minions. But we also sensed a growing unrest amongst the church, especially the particular amount of attention they began paying the Ghost concert. We were ready to persevere in the name of the unholy, and to allow the dark side of Philadelphia to shine through while Frankie was in town. But this morning, we received this dispatch, a letter informing us that Ghost fans will not be able to use public transportation, park their cars near the venue, or even get the Ghost entourage close enough to load in their instruments of persuasion. So, children of Philadelphia, and in fact, children of the world, we regret to inform you that in the hopes to ensure each and every Ghost fan can attend the show, we've decided to move the Philadelphia concert at Union Transfer to Tuesday, September 29th. Concession is sometimes hard. Our quest to topple the church will be won across many battles. We thank you. The Summoning III: The Battle For Philadelphia

Lincopia, Otrogothia August 21, 2015 The arrival SISTER IMPERATOR: It has arrived! Some of you did not believe the new Papa would be able to cast a shadow as wide and as far as his great predecessor. Your faithlessness is now dust in my mouth. You should be on your knees humbling yourselves before what has been accomplished here! All you need to do is look outside. Look at the graffiti on the walls, look at the lights illuminated at night, where once there was only darkness. Mothers will whisper warnings to their children: the false prophets will wail from their hallowed churches and in underground hovels like these, across the world. Our legion will rise. But listen closely, now. There isn't much time. There is one thing you must know. [Ladies and gentlemen, I have summoned you all here. And now, I bring you Ghost!] [SAME SPEECH GIVEN AT UNHOLY / UNPLUGGED IN LA] The Summoning IV: The Arrival || Unholy / Unplugged - Los Angeles, California, USA (August 21, 2015)

SISTER IMPERATOR: Welcome! Welcome, my faithful brothers and sisters! Your presence here is proof of your commitment. If you are unsure, cast off your doubts now. There is no turning back. The rite you're about to witness is but one small but essential movement in our spiritual revolution. We prayed, and he has arrived! But! But! He will demand more of you! He will need to hear from the abyss of your hearts that you are ready. His is a voice of the pit and the pinnacle! His Nameless Ghouls are the music of the [UNINTELLIGIBLE] but your holy noise is the key! You must cry out his name! Say it with me now: PAPA EMERITUS! AGAIN! AGAIN! AGAIN! Very good. Shh! Shh! Shhhhhh! Listen. Do you hear it? Do you? It's the terrible sound of the ignorant– the mistrust and anger of the masses. The world is unstable and they have lost their balance. But we, here together, are the new foundation. we are the shape of things to come! There's not much time. We won't be able to do the required incantation. We must let the music do the summoning. My brethren, my brethren, bow your heads and raise your horns to pierce the veil of heaven, so the skies will be torn asunder! And Papa may fall into our midst! Now is the moment. Now, there is no other. Papa Emeritus III! Ghost! Ghost is here! Los Angeles, CA, USA (October 26, 2015)

EARLIER TODAY LINCOPIA, OTROGOTHIA THE CLERGY HAS ADJOURNED. AND THE NAMELESS GHOULS ARE SUMMONED. SISTER IMPERATOR: I think you all know why you have been summoned here. It's time to re-assess, to take stock of your failures. It started with a vision: you were all standing before me, hoodwinked and bound with both caddy and shack! I led you each toward a coffin, where you were made to lie down. The lids were closed, and one by one, I placed a level on the top to make sure you were still and cold in the darkness. Iron nails fell from my hands and scattered like leaves around my feet. I know that behind your masks, you are smirking at me, proud of your trivial accomplishments. Let's see what you have really done to topple the spires and the men who hurdle around their false god. No… Oh, yes. [LAUGHING] The industry has noted our good works with their trinket. And as a result, our message is carried further and wider. But do we take such trinkets as sacrament and the measure of true accomplishment? No! We don't need their approval. The truth of our work is not measured by awards and nods from the establishment. Can someone say "two in a row now", from the Swedish academy? It is still only a drop in the dark water of our mission. Sit still! Stop staring! Have you heard enough of the list of your petty dreams laid bare? Are there any among you who can say you can bear witness to the signs of the coming change? I see more of the same slumbering dreamers sleepwalking to their glass-and-brick towers, bowing at the feet of their priests and their false gods. I have here letters from your followers, demanding that we explain why nothing has changed. They have made their own sacrifices. But what have you done? How will you answer them? By holding up your golden gramophone? Is this the change you promised? Is this the sign of a new age? It is nothing! It is another false idol. It is time to answer for your failures. This is going to take some time, so I would prepare yourselves. Pray to your Dark Gods that you can handle what is to come. "NEXT: ARE YOU READY? LET'S DISCUSS THE MISSION, MAN" The Summoning V: The Square And Hammer (September 13, 2016)

"Later that day…" LINCOPIA, OTROGOTHIA The proceedings intensify. SISTER IMPERATOR: I expect no more interruptions. You had your chance to defend yourselves. Without your guitar and drums, you are are mere acolytes, not the grand missionary men you were trained to be. You want to be equal to your Papa? Ha! But all you can do is [UNINTELLIGIBLE] your own egos, waxing nostalgia about your petty sins. Well let's see what you have really done. You have sat for insipid interviews, answering insipid questions, afraid to reveal your true undertaking. You wear your masks for the press, but your masks were never intended to simply hide your faces– they are the visage of The Gods, and you mock them with your senseless orgies and trysts. Even your depravities are dull! I would like you to turn to exhibit one. Look at all the places you have been, all the cities you have made a mark on. But the rain has washed it all away… like the piss of a dog! Why are believers still living in secret, spinning your records in their parents' basements? Why have you not led them into the murky light of His shadow? You are supposed to lead. It is your task. Your task! To lead! I think you're afraid of real change. Let's take a breath. I think I understand the problem. You think Papa's words should be enough. But then you misunderstand the nature of true power. Papa is not a mouthpiece for the Dark Divinity. He is not a pawn. He is a mediator. He is the path. His way is the truth and the darkness! And you– you are his apostles. And yet, you deny, you deny! And so I charge you with deceit and with letting good people falter! The very people who believed in you. Your doubt sows their own. I charge you with dereliction of duty! For the harrowing initiation you have been through, I would charge you with treason! The Summoning VI: The Proceedings Intensify

"Days later…" Lincopia, Otrogothia Fatigue and apathy have set in. SISTER IMPERATOR: Despite your weakness, and your cowardliness, your failures, I still believe in you. And I believe in you because I have seen the future! I have already been witness to three transfigurations, and each time I can see that we are closer to the final glory, and I have seen you rise to the occasion each time. So can you do it again? Huh? Hmm? Do you see this [UNINTELLIGIBLE], this haunted servitor of our Dark Father asking for nothing while it does its simple tasks? You see it and all think, "Our instruments are far greater than that old broom!" But they are not! They are merely tools to do His great work! Sometimes, yes, you're genius, with the tools you have been given. I have attended your rites, watched you claim souls of thousands, of your strings, your skin, your masterful use of electricity. I, too, have been moved to tears as I stood before you as the music reached a sort of… transessence. This is why I believe. After all we have been through in these past few days, all the shames laid bare, are you ready to start anew? The new coming is about to begin. Will you take up your instruments? Will you be able to commit to the utter annihilation of all this is false? All that is greed? All that is staid and conformist and empty? Hm? Then rise. Rise!!!! Now! I give you another chance at transformation. But you must beg. You must demand to be sacrificed! You must prostrate your hearts while you stand tall in the dark, for the fourth incarnation of Papa will guide us. But we need faith now. Swear to me that my faith in you is not in vain. Swear to me now in His Unholy Name. Say it now after me, say it loud enough to shatter the windows of the world's lies. Say "I am ready! I am ready! I am ready!!!!" The Summoning VII: Believe This

[the-witty-pen-name]

Deadbeat Pt. 8

Lee Bodecker x F!Reader

18+ ONLY

Warnings: age gap (reader is 21), fluff, angst, cursing, abandonment, toxic parent, violence, toxic siblings, infatuation, cheating/divorce, insecurity, mild housewife kink, mentions of prostitution, mentions of alcohol, corrupt official, fake relationship, jealousy, jail

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: You work at the bar at the edge of town, the Sheriff is going through a divorce and needs to rent a room.

A/N:

IMPORTANT UPDATE

I made a Google form to be added to my taglists, so if you want to be added, the link is in my bio. I’ll only be adding people to the list if they requested to be added by filling out the form! This way all of the requests are just in one place so I don’t miss requests! Thank you!!!

Also, if you are liking this series, consider checking out my new Lee Bodecker series, The Nanny. Part One

Thank you all so much for reading and sharing my work. Everyone whose reached out and told me how much they love the story really makes my day, oh my gosh!! I love you all so much, I’m so thankful.

This is unedited, and I missed anything I should include as a warning let me know! I hope you all enjoy!

Also, even when this fic is over (it’s not yet don’t worry!), I want to continue writing for Lee and this reader, so send me ideas of what you would want to see! Smut, fluff, I just wanna hear ideas you think would match this story! Like moments of them living together, dreams, or even ideas for one shots of Arvin x Reader when they were dating if you want more from that aspect of the story... anything else you want to see with this story that will be like one shots that are part of this same universe. 

Tags and Requests are OPEN

Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // Part Five // Part Six // Part Seven

That’s the funny thing about time. More often than not it’s the one to dictate you and not the other way around. Rationalizations regarding time hardly ever work out in your favor.

Oh, I just need more time for this, and then everything will work out.

Just need to make it through this week and then next week will be better.

If I had had more time, I could’ve gotten everything done.

How often did those actually ever work out? Time, especially in this town, was never an ally. It worked against you, spreading and infecting as fast as a forest fire. Time let rumors spread and time allows for circumstances beyond your control to unfold. It’s the catalyst that expertly pulls people apart and sometimes if you’re lucky, back together.

Perhaps, two years ago, you would have thought you would have been one of the lucky ones. One of the select few that time actually heals, but you had since given up on that notion. Lee was gone, ripped from you as quickly as he had swooped in. Your job was ripped from you as well, leaving you incapable of supporting yourself. And now you had Tommy back as well you needed to worry about. That was the one positive in the whole mess Lee left you to clean up alone.

The events like a domino effect just tore things done one by one. Now the room is cleaned out and his things are tucked away in boxes in your garage just like his car. It was the only physical evidence that had proved it all had actually been real.

You didn’t even want to try to visit him at first. You were hurt, and felt used. He had kept so much from you, especially your job. His lies had been so effortless. It bothered you immensely. He let you believe you had been able to land it by yourself. Maybe you could have. But now you’ll never know. What employer is going to hire you now?

Tommy got a job fairly quickly and you found a job outside of town, away from the people who knew your name or Lee’s. The article published that revealed Lee had gotten you the job was evidence enough for the town that all the rumors and gossip that they spread with no forethought were actually true. You had slept with him for the job, of course. Some people pinned the blame on him and some on you.

It took you six months of him being gone before you would even go in his room. Anything of yours that had secured a permanent spot there you just went without. But you needed the money, and Tommy had the good idea to get another tenant. He helped you box everything up and move it all down to the corner of the garage, making it all out of sight out of mind.

You had managed to sneak several of his shirts into the bottom drawer of your dresser. You were impressed with how much of a front of indifference you were able to put up. You had made it like an assembly line, and you ignored the tug at your heart at how it reminded you of when he first moved in. Keeping busy kept your thoughts at bay. However, nothing prepared you to what you found in the drawer of his nightstand.

You had just wanted to get the work done fast, removing the whole drawer and dumped the contents into a cardboard box. It was mostly junk, but then a black velvety box had caught your eye. It stood out from everything else. You hadn’t been nosy, and up until this point, you hadn’t given much thought to any of the items you had been packing away. It was a necessity to keep you sane.  But like Pandora’s box, you really just couldn’t control the urge to open it. You reasoned it was probably cufflinks or something for special occasions he just never wore. But the temptation was just too much and you sat down on the floor and fished it out of the half-filled box. You opened it and you immediately burst into tears. Not once had you cried since he had been gone. You hadn’t given yourself the opportunity to, not when there were so many things that needed to be done.

It looked brand new, a gold band with a perfectly round diamond sat perched in the box that he had hidden away in the junk drawer he assumed you’d never have a reason to go through. You distinctly remember Janie’s ring had been white gold, and you remember Lee had told you she kept her ring. He said he didn’t want it back anyways; he had said over coffee one morning. Nope, this was yours and the receipt you found in the cardboard box confirmed it when you saw the date printed on the top. He had gotten it a month before your whole world went to shit.

For the next two weeks, you had kept it stashed away, hidden under the t-shirts you selfishly kept out as well. The weeks really started to blend together, just going through the motions and not really feeling like you were living. You were on autopilot. And before you had realized it, it was coming up on a year. Time had moved somehow simultaneously slow that year and also fast enough for you to lose track. You hadn’t moved on. You were just ignoring it, not wanting to acknowledge the hurt that was still behind your eyes, still as apparent since the day he was carted away.

One night, you don’t know what switch in your mind flipped, but you started crying in the shower and then couldn’t stop until you had cried yourself to sleep. You had just exhausted yourself and the cycle continued night after night as soon as you stepped in the door after work. You were lying on your bed, still in your clothes that you had worn to work even though it was way past midnight. You turned your head and just stared at the bottom drawer of the dresser, your eyes straining from the tears and also from the darkness. Maybe, just maybe, it would make you feel better. You got up, walked over to the dresser and sat crisscross in front of it. It was probably the first conscience decision you had made in weeks. Somehow it made you feel more alive.

Stripping down to just your underwear, and leaving the work clothes haphazardly in piles on the floor, you grabbed one of the t-shirts and pulled it over your head. Just the smell of him cleared your head. The way it was able to just aid your headache was almost instantaneous. It smelled like him. It grounded you, and had the opposite effect you thought it would have. You skeptically believed you were torturing yourself, and grabbing one of his shirts would make you feel worse. For the first time in a while, you felt comforted and finding a candy wrapper in the front pocket just made you smile.

You then pulled out the ring and looked at it, taking it out of the box for the first time. You slipped it onto your left ring finger. It was a little loose, but Lee didn’t do awful guessing your ring size. You didn’t care, you thought it fit perfectly. It was understated and stunning and you had never seen a nicer ring. It was simple, very unlike what your relationship had been. Actually, that wasn’t true, you realized. It was very easy falling in love with Lee, and when it was the two of you, it was perfect. It was the world and circumstances outside of your control that made it complicated. You also realize you had forgiven a while ago, but you had been too stubborn to admit it.

Fuck it. Fuck everything that you let overpower you for so long. What? The old ladies at Church call you a slut? Let them. The amount of weight that words hold over everyone here is so toxic. No one in this town was a saint. The whole town is held hostage by their own twisted dark secrets and the way people get by is just exposing the secrets of others. No one was moral. You hadn’t done anything wrong. What was your crime? You did nothing. Lee was as guilty as sin, but what made them better? What gives anyone the right to decide for themselves his motives, and ignore the good in him to villainize him?

It was early Saturday morning. Getting up from your spot, somehow feeling lighter on your feet, you see its after two in the morning. You settle back into your bed, and the revelation allows you to have the most restful sleep you can ever remember having. You woke up feeling refreshed, and feeling alive. Your head was clear. You still didn’t look good. Your undereye bags were dark and heavy. It would take more than a few hours of uninterrupted sleep to remedy those. The pain behind your eyes was still there, but the motive had changed. It was a longing, and a missing of him that weighed heavy on your head.

You wake up shortly after seven and your body doesn’t allow you to sleep in despite your attempts. You get ready for the day, changing into a pair of your fitted jeans that were cuffed, a pair of your Keds and one of your white t-shirts. You grabbed your purse, and made your way downstairs. Tommy had already left for work early and he doesn’t like to wake you. It was probably better, because had he been there, he would probably talk you out of what you were going to do.

The bus was pretty crowded, always was on Saturday morning. You hadn’t realized how close he was to you this whole time until you realized you had been on the bus for less than twenty minutes. This whole time, he had felt so far away, almost like he was erased, even though he was just in the next town. You arrived just as visiting hours had begun. You weren’t even sure you’d be allowed to see him, or if he’d want to see you. You hadn’t come before, and you wouldn’t blame him if he refused to see you. Hell, you didn’t even know what you’d say. You didn’t think about it once. You just wanted to see him.

The guard at the front desk took all your information and got you situated and then you just had to wait. It was probably less than fifteen minutes you had to sit there but it felt like forever. It was that familiar feeling of time messing with you again. Finally, the same guard returned and led you down a really bleak hallway, until you reached a room with a long table, with seats and dividers, and phone receivers. The seats situated across from each other separated by think glass. You gulped, you’d only ever seen rooms like this in the movies, and you shuddered facing where Lee had been stuck for so long. You weren’t the only one there, and other prisoners in beige scrubs were seated behind the glass talking over the receivers with their loved ones.

You took the seat the guard motioned to, and you thanked him. You were trying your best to not shake or show how nervous you were to see him again. You were scared he would hate you for not coming sooner, or he’d say he didn’t want to see you again. You couldn’t blame him. It has been a year. Yet, your heart leaps and betrays you when he walks in and any brave front you had is gone. He looks more tired than you, and his hair is slightly shorter than when you last saw him. But overall, it’s still Lee and goddamn, what you wouldn’t give to break the glass. The silence is deafening when he doesn’t even look up at you when he grabs the receiver. Does he not even want to look at you? He sat down without even looking up from his feet. He looks so defeated.

“Lee?” you ask softly into the receiver; you aren’t even sure if it picked up the sound. Apparently, it had because his eyes shot up at the sound of your voice. His eyes were wide and looked vulnerable as he scanned your face, like he was trying to keep from blinking.

“Oh sweetheart,” he gasps, “I’m so sorry. Everything- all of it. It was all my fault.” He also looks close to tears.

“I’m sorry I took so long,” you say, unable to pull your eyes from his.

“I didn’t expect you to even want to see me, darling,” he admits.

“You left an awful mess I had to clean up first,” you joke, making him chuckle halfheartedly.

“You deserve so much better,” he said sadly, “Settle down with someone your age, with a nice job or something- get out away from this place.”

“Christ, Lee, if I wanted that do you think I’d be here?” you joke. He smiles.

Four months ago, Arvin offered to drive you home from Church. Even with your brother being back, you still ended up going by yourself most Sundays. You weren’t even sure why you still showed up. It was an hour of being stuck in a room with a ton of people where you didn’t even have one ally. Actually, that wasn’t entirely true. You had Lenora, who’s sympathetic smiles from across the aisle let you know her silent solidarity, and you had Arvin, who wasn’t one to care what others thought much anyways.

Leaving Church now since the news was finally printed, no one tried to talk to you afterwards except for Arvin and his family. His grandmother was still as sweet as always, but you could see how much she pitied you. Arvin was always friendly still, and he had been so helpful with everything.

“I don’t even care if it was true you know,” he said suddenly, pulling your attention from the open window on the passenger side.

“If what was true?” you ask looking back to him.

“You know, how everyone is talking,” he says in a hushed tone, not wanting to actually say it.

“That I slept with the Sheriff to get the job?” You finish his sentence for him.

“Yeah, I- It doesn’t change anything,” he says, “You’re still you and I don’t care. We’re all human.”

“It’s not true,” you confirm, crossing your arms, and then looking back out at the passing landscape.

“Look (Y/N),” Arvin continued, “I’m sorry about what happened. I feel awful. I want to do anything I can to help you.”

“You’re always such a good friend to me,” you smile, “You shouldn’t be putting yourself out too much for my sake.”

“I want to,” he insists with a smile, “We got a history, you and me.”

“Yeah,” you say with a content sigh.

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately,” he admits nervously. He pulls in front of your house, and as usual he runs over quickly to get the door for you. “And just that we aren’t kids anymore,” he continues, and you nod. You dig for your keys as he talks.

“I got a job, pays pretty good,” he continues on, “You got a good job, and this old house. I know you better than anyone. I know it isn’t that romantic, but I’ve been thinking about this a lot. I’d love to marry you, if you’d have me.”

“A-Arvin, are you serious?” you ask, your heading whipping up at the sudden proposal you hadn’t anticipated.

“Tell me it wouldn’t make sense,” he laughs softly with a shrug, pushing his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.

“Arvin, I don’t want to just marry someone for the practicality of it,” you sigh.

“It’s you and me,” he continues, holding your shoulders gently and his eyes are latched onto yours. “I know I made a horrible mistake, but I have been trying so hard to make it up to you. You’re the only girl I ever loved- I never stopped. I loved you when we were eighteen, I love you know that we’re twenty-two and I swear if you let me, I can love you for the rest of my life.”

“Arvin…”

“It’s always been us, hasn’t it?” he asks rhetorically, “There’s never been anyone else…”

“I’m in love with Lee,” you say hurriedly, cutting him off before he continued.

“You what?”

“I’m in love with Lee,” you say again, slower and much more purposeful. You watch his whole expression fall, and it breaks your heart to hurt him.

“You’re in love with Sheriff Bodecker?” He asks, “That fucking deadbeat?”

“He’s not,” you insist, “You don’t know him…”

“You don’t either, (Y/N),” he cuts you off. “He’s no good and crooked. He manipulated you, took advantage…”

“No, he didn’t,” you affirm.

“(Y/N), he’s a liar, and he’s good at it,” he continues, “You don’t think he just up and told you anything he thought you’d want to hear to just get what he wanted…”

“You’re wrong!”

“He’s an alcoholic, no good drunk who took advantage of you with your mama gone…”

“Shut up!”

“He was using you!”

“You’re wrong, Arvin! You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Okay, fine,” he sighs, “Let’s say you’re right. So, you’re gonna wait for him? Wait out the five years until you’re twenty-six? And then after you wait for him to get out, how do you know he wants you? Then what are you going to do? I know right now you hate me, but God, (Y/N), I’m a good guy who only wants to put your happiness first… I’ve always put you first. I love you and I’m not going to make you play a ton of games or keep things a secret. I’ll run around this whole town right now screaming how much I love you at the top of my lungs so the whole town knows.”

“I don’t love you.”

Lee still can’t believe you’re finally here in front of him. He thought about this moment for so long. He had even tried to prepare himself to brace the possibility that you might never want anything to do with him ever again. His dreams would plague him with thoughts of you. Sometimes they were happy, and he’d be woken up with the horrible realization that they hadn’t been true, and others were worse. He’d dream about getting out, and seeing you with someone else. Married, and happy, and he wasn’t the one you settled down with. Sometimes, he wouldn’t actually see you with someone else, it was always just implied, or he’d see you with Arvin.

Most nights he’d jolt awake and be covered in sweat, and he would still be cursed by the images that flashed before him in his dreams. He just thinks about all the things he wished he could change and how much he’s hurt you. He just thinks about all the things he would say if he ever got to see you, or what he would do to try to win you back. Then, other nights, he’d be much more self-deprecating and he’d internally fight with himself about how you don’t want him anymore, and you’d realize he was never what you wanted.

Now, he can’t believe you’re here across the glass. He could see the pain and exhaustion behind your eyes and he hates that he is the cause of it. He can’t stop looking at you, and part of him thinks he’s actually back in his room, having another dream about you that he will wake up from and find himself alone again. His eyes scan your face and just wants to take in every part of you, it had been so long. Then his eyes land on a shimmer of something on your hand and he might just die in his seat.

“You found it?” he whispers, looking at the ring on your finger. You look puzzled and then you follow his gaze down to your hand. You had forgotten you hadn’t taken it off.

“Um, yeah,” you admit shyly, looking down at it, “I assumed it was mine.”

“It is,” he smiles, pressing his fingertips gently to the glass briefly. “If you really want it.”

“It’d be a shame for it to just sit in the box,” you shrug. Neither one of you say anything for a moment, neither one of you not knowing what to say to fill the silence.

“I’m going to wait for you,” you declare, aimlessly playing with the ring on your finger.

“Are you sure?” he asks. He can’t let himself get too hopeful. Not yet.

“I’ve never been surer of anything, Lee,” you affirm.

“I will make it up to you.”

“Yes, you will,” you joke, making him laugh.

“I love you,” he sighs relieved, like the weight of everything that has held him down this past year just vanished. You wanted him, and he wouldn’t lose you.

“I love you too.”

PART NINE

Taglist:

@scar-is-bi @jiminlife2k18 @asylummaniac01 @rosalynshields @charmed-asylum @jamesbuchananbuckybarnes1917 @alexandrathegreat3 @hersilencedscreams @malar-region @purplerain85 @vesper852 @smilewolfdolan @softshell-taco @champagnebucky @lilacmeadows @mollygetssherlockcoffee @bluebouquetcupcake29 @stucky-my-ship @moonliightbabes @sassy-kassaay @lharrietg @bbmommy0902​ @hoe-for-sebstan 

[timbourinedrakejr]

Missing you

My secret Santa recipient was @moonlightstar64 !!! I saw you liked Mari being the bio!sibling of one of the Batfam, so I got a bit carried away with this big brother Jason fic, I hope you enjoy it!!! (Part 2 of the gift is here)

@maribat-secret-santa-2020

Jason tapped his foot impatiently on the floor, and gave another over dramatic sigh, which gained multiple glares from his siblings. They were meant to be visiting the Marché de Noël at Notre Dame to do a bit of christmas shopping and get food, and he was starving.

But for some god forsaken reason his brothers were taking ages to get ready, and he was sick of waiting for them. He opened his mouth to give another complaint when Alfred cut him off, sending him a stern glare.

“If you cannot wait any longer Master Jason, I suggest you go on ahead and get something to eat and stop fussing. We will be along shortly.” It didn’t take much else for Jason to get the message, Alfred had had enough of his impatience and wanted him out.

With one short glare at the rest of his (incredibly slow) family, Jason turned and left the hotel, determined to make the walk to the market as quick as possible. It had just begun snowing again, and the sunlight was quickly disappearing, giving the streets of Paris a magical feel.

He would never admit it straight up, but he was actually enjoying the forced family vacation, even if his family infuriated him sometimes. It was the first year he’d ever actually accepted the invitation to join them, and despite all his worries, it’d been going surprisingly well.

The tradition to have a Christmas vacation had started a few years ago, when Alfred had decided that he’d had enough of missed Christmas dinners and that the whole family deserved to enjoy a holiday. Alfred had determined that the best way to fully remove the temptations of working over Christmas, would simply be to forcibly take Bruce out of Gotham altogether. Of course Bruce put up a fuss, and so did the rest of their workaholic family, but there was no fighting Alfred sometimes.

It didn’t stop most of them from bringing cases to work on, but it still gave them all a much needed break, as well as a whole lot of unspoilt ‘family bonding time’. Every year the location of the holiday changed, and this year Paris was decided on. As he walked along the streets, admiring how the strings of christmas lights glistened off the snow, he was glad he’d agreed to come this year.

He really was hungry though, and despite being so close to the market, he couldn’t wait to eat any longer. He spotted a small sign up ahead for a boulangerie patisserie, and the delicious smells and warm glow coming from inside, were enough to tempt Jason in.

As soon as he stepped in, his eyes darted straight to the display case, so distracted by his hunger that he almost didn’t notice how the shop assistance’s greeting abruptly cut off with a gasp.

Jason looked up to see what had caused their reaction, only to stop short himself, as his eyes landed on a girl with two familiar pigtails, who’s watering blue eyes were currently locked on him in shock.

“Jason?”

Marinette had never thought she would see Jason again. Not since she was 11 and saw the headline that had torn her heart in two, the one that had crushed all her hopes of one day being reunited with her brother.

When she was younger, freshly adopted and living in her new home in Paris, he was all she would ever talk about. Her parents would listen with a fond grin as she babbled on in broken french about how cool Jason was, and how much he would love it here, especially the food.

They had been separated after their mother had died, sent to different care homes despite all their protests. When her new parents had discovered that she had a brother, they had tried looking for him, only to find out Jason had run away a few weeks prior. Marinette had been heartbroken, but she knew deep down that Jason was looking for her, and one day they would see each other again.

Marinette had been a logical kid though, so she understood that the chance of Jason finding her in France, was extremely low. At best, Jason would be found and adopted by loving parents who would help him find her (which, knowing Gotham, was very unlikely), and at worst, he would have to wait until he was eighteen to look for her himself. She never even considered the possibility that he wouldn’t make it to eighteen.

Jason was a survivor. He was brave, kind, and always always looked out for her. Her mother had tried her best to take care of them both, Marinette knew that, but most of the time it was Jason looking after both of them. Jason had told her that she’d been the best Mom, before she got ill, and before their dad had made it worse, but Marinette was too young to remember the before.

All Marinette could remember was Jason. Jason was the one who cooked most nights, the one who made sure she was in bed on time, the one who got her ready for school each morning. He’d always try and protect her when their dad was in one of his moods, and always patched her up afterwards, no matter how much worse off he was.

No matter how bad some of her memories of Gotham were, Marinette didn’t want to forget Jason. So she did whatever she could to remember him. She told all her new friends about him, and insisted that her parents learnt how to make all his favourite foods.

She even kept her hair in the exact same style that Jason had always put it in. She’d used to complain that all the other girls had their hair in pretty styles, whilst hers was always boring and let down, so Jason had learnt how to do her hair. Granted, the only style he could do neatly were pigtails, but it was still better than nothing.

Every morning they would sit down, and Jason would brush her hair, making up grand tales for her whilst she sat quietly in awe. Those mornings were some of Marinette’s most cherished memories, so to make sure she never forgot, she got her Maman to teach her how to do them herself.

She wore them everyday, without fail, and would proudly tell anyone who commented on them, that it was for her brother. Marinette secretly hoped that it would also help Jason to recognise her when they were finally reunited.

It was also a habit for Marinette to watch the Gotham news every day. She still missed her old home despite how dangerous and corrupt it was, and watching it was a comfort, a way to keep in touch with her roots.

It was also how she found out that the adopted son of Bruce Wayne was killed in an explosion. She’d only been half paying attention, working on her homework whilst she waited for her parents to cook dinner, when she suddenly heard her brother’s name mentioned.

Her world had stopped as a picture of her brother, looking healthy and older in the arms of Bruce Wayne, was displayed on screen, with the newsreader calmly announcing his tragic death alongside it.

Marinette had been inconsolable for weeks, no amount of reassurance from her parents able to stop her tears. She spent days going through news articles, reading anything that mentioned her brother, saving every photo she could.

It hurt knowing that if she’d just paid more attention to Gotham, searched for her brother properly rather than just sit by and wait, she could’ve found him. Could’ve talked to him, let him meet her new family, meet his new family.

But now none of that was possible. Because he was dead and nothing could change that.

Marinette stopped watching Gothams news after that. She stopped talking about him because it hurt too much. She didn’t even tell Tikki at first, only telling her after she noticed the picture of him pinned to the wall next to her bed.

But despite how much the memories hurt now, Marinette still clung to them. The memories were the only things she had left of him, and even though it hurt too much to talk about, she didn’t want to pretend he didn’t ever exist.

So, even though she got teased for it being too childish, and even though it still stung to remember, she kept her hair in pigtails. A small reminder to herself to never forget, and to hold the good memories close.

Life had moved on, and even though Marinette still missed her brother, the pain wasn’t so raw anymore, feeling more like a dull ache rather than a bleeding wound. Still, Marinette always felt worse around the holidays, and liked to keep busy rather than dwell on the thought that Jason should be here, enjoying life, too.

The bakery was always hectic around the holidays, and gave Marinette the perfect excuse to busy herself and help out, often manning the till to give her parents a break.

It had been a miraculously quiet afternoon, which Marinette attributed to the local market, and she’d been doodling on a napkin when the bell chimed, indicating a customer. She’d straightened quickly, automatically greeting the customer, before she looked up and immediately froze.

Because standing in front of her, was what should’ve been a dead man. He looked older, as if he’d actually aged the last five years. She could see scars that weren’t there before, and his hair looked different, a streak of white in the front, but no matter all the changes, she was certain that was him.

That was Jason.

“Jay?”

She barely registered that she’d spoken, and her suspicions were confirmed when the man looked up in wide eyed shock. The tears that were forming in her eyes began to overflow as he replied, the Gotham accent as strong as ever.

“Nette?”

That was all it took for Marinette’s restraint to break, and she practically jumped the counter in her rush to get to him, to prove to herself that he was really there, and not just some akuma trick. But an akuma wouldn’t show her Jason all grown up, and he wouldn’t just be standing there looking like he was the one who’d just seen a ghost.

As soon as she was close enough, she threw herself at him, and clung on to him for dear life. Only a moment later she felt strong arms return the embrace, just as hard. She felt a million different emotions all buzzing through her head at once, but the clearest feeling of all was the pure relief.

She didn’t know how or why he was back and apparently alive, but at this moment, she did not care. Her brother was back, and he was here, and she was never gonna let him go.

“Never do that again,” she managed to choke out, her words muffled by how her face was pressed into Jason’s chest. “I don’t want to lose you ever again.”

Jason’s own words were almost just as tearful when he replied, pulling her closer as he did.

“I promise. I’ll never leave again.”

[effieduan]

GIVE RIO JOB 🔪🔪🔪🔪🔪 | Rio & Effie

TIMING: Present

LOCATION: Vulpine Voltage Repairs

PARTIES: @3starsquinn & @effieduan

SUMMARY: Rio’s ability to afford groceries is called into question.

CONTENT:  No Triggers!

Effie sat at the counter, tinkering with a giant black box. It was a monster, a dinosaur, and an absolute disgrace to modern computers. But Florence wanted it back in suitable working condition because it was “so simple”. Effie learned early on in this business that it was important to give the customer what they wanted -- even if she thought she could give them a better experience. Florence was elderly, and she could understand wanting things to stay the way they were. And truthfully, after Effie was done with this big old dinosaur, there wouldn’t be much to complain about other than its size and heavy weight -- that reminded her. She would have to schedule a drop off at Florence’s apartment. Watching the little old woman waddle in carrying that thing had almost given her a heart attack. She was working on replacing the cooling fan when she heard the door jingle as someone entered.

She would have preferred to be in the back sitting in her workshop, but that meant  she would have to constantly be getting up from her work to come out front whenever a customer came. Annoying. She poked her head up over the harddrive to get a look at her customer. “Just a second,” she said, swiftly hopping off the stool, placing her tools on the counter, and grabbing her lime-green gloves. She looked at the boy. College student, most likely. “Can I help you?” she asked. “Did something break?”

In a lot of ways, a shop like this should make Orion feel right at home. Ever since he was old enough, he practically lived on his computer if he wasn’t reading. Nowadays, he did a lot of his reading on the computer anyways, with the scribe archive coming along. It was slowly but surely growing, and Rio was starting to find it easier to find information through the database instead of skimming through the books like he always had to before. Of course, there were probably thousands of books still unaccounted for, but he had tried to prioritize to get some of the most common books translated first.

If his pastimes weren’t enough, then his old second major made a shop like this feel even more familiar. Computer science had always felt like more of a means to an end than an actual passion, but he had still picked up on a few things in the first two years before he had dropped it to focus on history and mythology. After all, the groundwork for the database had already been built thanks to Winston’s help. That was what Rio had wanted the degree for in the first place.

Now, Rio just needed work. Money wasn’t exactly tight. His parents had left behind a generous amount split between himself and Athena, and despite the size and grandeur of the home that he currently lived in, his living expenses were surprisingly cheap. Perks of only paying utilities he supposed. Still, a steady income wouldn’t hurt. And despite the change in majors, Rio still knew enough about technology that a place like this could be a potential job option. If they were hiring that was. “Hey there.” Rio gave a small wave when the woman behind the counter spoke to him and slid closer to the counter. His fingers began tapping against it rhythmically as he considered his words, “Nope. Nothing broken here. Not technology anyways” Rio rattled off, letting his words slowly fade as he realized this was not the best conversation starter, “I was actually just wondering if you knew if this place was hiring? I’m sort of looking for employment.”

Effie stared at Rio, mouth opening slightly in surprise. “... Employment…” Effie said slowly, as if she didn’t quite understand. Truth be told, she didn’t understand. She was quite clear that she was not looking for any other staff for her store, even if Eva told her she was being ridiculous because she would get so much more work done if she had someone watching the front counter while she sat and worked on orders in the back. And what did this boy mean by nothing broken - at least not technology. Was that a Gen Z thing? Was she so old that she was starting to call things gen z things? Was she going to rage war on middle parts and baggy jeans next? Effie had to shake herself out her head, reminding herself she was going to live long enough to see Gen Z 10.0, to stare at the boy. He was… Skinny. And polite enough. Effie’s snarky comment of why didn’t you check the website’s F.A.Q before coming in here died on her lips. “Uh -- “ Effie coughed. “I own this store,” she said. “My name is Effie Duan. And I’m not - I mean, I’m not really looking for employees.”

The woman, who turns out was the owner of the store, didn’t seem especially thrilled about the idea of Orion asking if she was hiring. Apparently, that wasn’t something she did a lot of. Or maybe at all. Rio had passed by the store on a few occasions, had only actually popped inside once or twice to check the place out, but he clearly remembered her face from each visit. Did she have any other employees, or was she running this place all by herself? “Oh! That’s awesome. Hi there. My name’s Rio. Technically it’s Orion, but nobody calls me that except my family.” Rio exclaimed, holding a hand out towards the woman as a means of introduction. He quickly backtracked to correct himself, “Er- well I guess my family used to call me that. Now nobody really does.” Well that was awkward. Definitely not the greatest first impression. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to bother you or anything.” Rio bit at his lip. Well there went another option. Was he cursed to live on his family’s money in that oversized home forever? Could that even be counted as a curse? “Do you uh- run this place all by yourself? Because that’s crazy impressive. How do you have time to do everything?”

Effie’s gaze shot down to the hand he outstretched to her as if it was going to bite her. She did not like contact, especially with humans. Well, especially with anyone. Still, that’s why she wore the gloves. They were the solution and the reason she could be around people. Effie quickly recovered and reached out to shake his hand, hoping he didn’t mind the feeling of rubber. “Orion,” she said. “Rio.” Only his family called him Orion -- had called him… Something flashed in Effie’s memory about the doctor and business owner that were brutally murdered, leaving behind their children. She didn’t remember the girl’s name, but she did remember Orion because it had been one of  Eva’s favorite constellations growing up. Then again, Eva’s favorite constellation changed every week - maybe she just remembered Orion because she would get poked in the side with a stick shrieking and giggling. Now that was a reason Effie never wanted to have kids. Her demeanor softened though, realizing that this kid was on his own now. She felt that familiar, heavy feeling in her chest -- like whenever she looked at a frustrated old woman who just wanted her dinosaur hard drive fixed or a man that just wanted a stupid gaming system repaired because it meant a lot to his father. Effie cursed under her breath, straightening slightly. How hard must it have been to have your parents murdered and now had to provide for himself?

“You’re not a bother, Rio,” she said shortly. “It’s just - I mean, I do run this place by myself. It’s my store - my business, I mean. I’m open Monday through Friday, from 9-5 and then on Saturday’s from 9-12.” Officially, at least. More often than not, she was here, open late or early because it wasn’t like she did much. “So … Well…” Effie looked at Rio. God, could he afford groceries? He was so skinny! “What - What experience do you have?” she asked, lamely.

Orion tilted his head curiously as Effie repeated his name, followed by his nickname to him. “That’s me.” Rio responded quietly, trying to figure out what Effie was thinking about. Clearly something was processing. She was still looking up towards him, but she wasn’t meeting his gaze, instead staring past it. She must have been lost in her thoughts, the same way Rio did. “That sounds busy.” Rio agreed, listening to her hectic schedule. While RIo tried to keep himself busy too, none of his hobbies were exactly time sensitive besides his classes. She was bound to this schedule to run a business. Owning a business in general was way more stress than Rio thought he could handle. Being the sole employee was another thing entirely. She surprised him when she asked about his experience. Hadn’t she just said that they weren’t hiring? “Oh well uh-” Rio considered her question. Technically, he didn’t have much. Not officially. “Well I used to be a double major with computer science as one of those. I’m still a double major, just not computer science anymore. But I learned quite a bit in the first couple of years. I’m pretty decent when it comes to like coding and stuff.” Rio scratched at his neck nervously. It wasn’t like he could exactly show off the database he and Winston had built. Not without looking completely insane. “And I also worked as an assistant in my old job, taking calls and talking to people that came in. It uh- burnt down last year.”

Gears were churning in Effie’s mind as she stared at Rio. He certainly had a series of unfortunate events happen to him. Parents murdered and his job burnt down. Other than making sure some poor college kid could afford groceries, she would get her sisters off her back. It wasn’t only Eva that thought she worked too much. Not to mention if this kid could code, he was likely smart enough to learn how to fix phone screens and the like so she didn't have to waste time with those while she worked on her larger products. Not to mention, if she didn’t have to answer the phone or talk to people… Temptation was something Effie learned not to engage with a long time ago because it only led to disappointment and more self loathing than she could handle. What would she do about this kid’s safety? Make him wear gloves? “A couple of years in computer science is certainly better than nothing,” Effie said finally. “What do you study now?” That seemed like a decent question to ask. She could put him in a full rubber suit, though she wondered if that would be considered cruel and unusual punishment. It wasn’t like the feds would believe it was just her version of wrapping him in bubblewrap.

But how many incidents did she have in her shop? She was comfortable here in her shop and her apartment. Other than making the lights flash when frustrated, she never had done anything dangerous. The danger happened when she inevitably had to go outside. “Look, Rio,” Effie started. “I think -- Why don’t we try it out?” The words fell out of her mouth, surprising herself that she was going through with it. “Obviously, you’re a college student, and I don’t expect you to work all the hours my store is open. We can adjust to your schedule so you can have a healthy class life and social life as well as adequate free time to decompress.” Now she sounded like Eva, who frequently lectured her about what it was like to actually live. Not an option for her. She looked at Rio, before remembering something. “Oh, and I should… Probably check your references.”

[unohanadaydreams]

uh uh umu hewwo mars may i ask,,,,, for a kugo scenario pwease..... 🥺 ummm idm nsfw or whatever piques ur interest but something nice and sweet would be lovely 🥰🥰 thank u queen ily,,, 💕 if u want more info then just lmk!!

Of course, Kizo!! <3 Happy early b-day and here’s your big ol’ cake of soft wedding head canons to melt you with!! I guess I’ll stop teasing about seducing him now that he’s a married man lmaoooo.

Features: Some 18+ content/smut, fem!reader

KUGO GINJO

Wedding Day:

He’s tense. He keeps alternating between lashing out at Xcution members and lapsing into bouts of silence, his back hunched and chin resting on steepled fingers. Honestly, it’s insufferable for everyone around him. The fear of this commitment ending badly, of you fleeing down the aisle, and the fear of hating domestic life—of hating the unfamiliarity of children and stability and homecooked meals--gnaw at him. Kugo finds himself wanting to call everything off, if only to assert some measure of control over the day and his feelings.

Yearning for reassurance, he’s insists on seeing you. Jackie and Riruka lay down a valiant effort, but his entire entourage of groomsmen throw the balance in Kugo’s favor. So he gets his way.

”Like always,” Riruka says. “Such a spoiled brat,” Jackie responds.

Kugo is aloof at first. Your steadfast verbal and then bodily insistence that he not be in the same room as you before the wedding, especially with your dress bag unzipped and visible from the open closet changes that. His shrug and crude excuse of ‘thought we could practice our wedding kiss’ only annoys you.

But then his smarmy little smirk drops and he gives a sigh that seems to soften his body. His shoulders fall and the ticking muscle of his jaw disappears as he falls forward into your arms, his face pressing into the column of your neck.

Kugo is rarely an open book. You know him better than anyone, but honestly that’s like saying you won a race when you were the only one running. You hug him back and he unwinds enough to say, “you really wanna marry me? Forever with me and all the jerks in Xcution?”

After your reassurances, he shutters his fears again, smiles genuinely, and kisses you deeply until you push him away. When he leaves, one hand slicking back his gelled hair and the other stuffed in his suit pocket, Jackie and Riruka barge into the room.

“Did he seriously do ALL THAT just to practice a fucking kiss,” Riruka shrieks. You open your mouth to say no. And then your eyes narrow. Because he did do that, after all. “I’m marrying a scumbag,” you say. Jackie snorts, “It took you the day of to realize?”

Compared to before, Kugo is a veritable delight to deal with after his visit with you. He drinks scotch and brags about his honey moon destination over games of darts. He’s still a sore winner and lousy sport. He still lapses into broody silence over his alcohol and cheats if someone gets the upper hand. But, for Kugo, it’s pretty much his best behavior.

The entire wait to see you walk down the aisle and for the duration of the vows, he’s back to tense muscles and dire thoughts. Seeing you glide toward him coaxes a genuine and soft smile. But he wipes it the moment he realizes what he’s doing; goes back to smirking. Kugo keeps tight hold of your hands the entire ceremony, though.

It’s only when you’ve said ‘I do’ and are swept in his arms for a unnecessarily long kiss that he relaxes again. He seems giddy at that point, honestly. It’s so uncharacteristic that it steals your breath as he gathers you in his arms and struts down the aisle with a smirk (okay, so not totally out of character).

The after party is absolute chaos, despite everyone trying to keep it classy affair. Held in a sturdy concrete and brick building downtown—a modern, high-end take on a saloon really—it starts calm. But, then the members of Xcution get in their egregious amount of shots in before most of the guests arrive. And..then the guests arrive. The Karakura gang and their families, your family, and some arrancar; because nothing says ‘fuck you’ like inviting the enemy of your enemy.

You don’t know the full scope of what occured, because Kugo insisted on leaving early to rest before the honeymoon flight in the morning, but you saw enough loud, blurry footage from snapchat and frantic texts from Orihime to know you’ll be sending apologies instead of thank you cards to your family. Some blue haired man destroyed two tables trying to get to Kurosaki.

Riruka shrunk some of your family members attempting to contain them. Jackie got her arm sliced when she stumbled into Uryu’s arrow that was headed toward Grimmjow before he got shrunk by Riruka and Yukio forced Uryu and Chad to be Mario and Luigi in his game sphere until Uryu apologized and they both said ‘it’s a me mario’ and ‘Luiiiiigiii’ respectively. Kugo turned off your phone and insisted it stay that way until your honey moon’s over in the middle of all the notification assaulting your sanity in hopes that you’d stop freaking out. It helped, honestly. You have your zen until you land back home. Cherish it.

Honey Moon:

He picked somewhere tropical. The idea of massaging sun screen into your skin? The image of you walking everywhere in booty shorts? The temptation of jumping you on a private beach in the evening or a quiet boardwalk in the morning? He simply had to. There was also a sizable discount on the destination he picked.

Sure, he’s always got an air of nonchalance that only a devil may care flavor of man can have, but on your honey moon, he’s tender…for him. The first day and night are completely spent in bed. And his fingers smooth over your ring constantly—while you’re making love, when you’re eating over priced room service fare in bed, and the still moments before he falls asleep. Kugo kisses your ring too.

When you get the idea to joke, ‘kiss the ring, bitch’, you knew he would pout, but you weren’t quite prepared for being laid out on the bed and tortured with the skilled fingers of his left hand. The solid wedding band rubbing against your spongey gspot stroking you to completion as he smirked, “no YOU kiss it.”

The remainder of the week is spent doing activities and eating meals that seem spontaneous but have been meticulously planned out. If there’s something you’re hesitant to do, he extra invested in easing your nerves since he’s already paid for it.

”I don’t WANT to swim with sharks!” “Come oooon. The only thing in the water that’s gonna bite you is me.”

Your closet at the hotel is stuffed with strappy dresses, cute swimsuits, and tacky shirts that proclaim you’re married you’ve never seen before. Kugo refuses to answer for the shirts and insists that his just never made it in his luggage and isn’t that a shame. He gets a huge amount of satisfaction of telling people you’re his wife. He could carry a neon sign pointing to you that says ‘THIS IS MY WIFE’ and it might be more subtle. He won’t stop even if you point it out.

“What? You’re my wife.” “Oh my—fine. It’s whatever.” “Hey! Hold the fucking elevator for me and my wife.” “I’M—”

Obviously, he’s out to show you off. You both make for a pretty fucking package and he’s well aware of that. If he wasn’t so concerned about how he came off to other people he’d be yelling “LOOK AT MY BEAUTIFUL WIFE”. But he has a sense of shame. And would never just SAY something so vulnerable, especially in front of strangers. But he’s thinking it.

His proclivity for making out in public is also tremendous. When he points out how many people have their eyes on you it’s with a self-satisfied air and a smirk made of fucking daggers. Most of your outings and meals end with Kugo getting you worked up and leading you somewhere to finish you off.

Kugo seldom says he loves you in those exact words. But he seems to sneak it in almost every day while vacationing. He tries to make it seem witty or off-handed. But the fact he says it at all makes the attempts to lessen the seriousness of it rather moot.

[mythologyfolklore]

Panoply of the stars

(A/N: Uriel feels blue and Astaroth cheers them up a little, makes veiled jabs at capitalism and racism and causes a blackout in all of NYC, just so they can watch the stars. Meanwhile Asmodeus gets unusually sentimental and nostalgic and Raphael tries to do damage control.)

.

Uriel had never liked being among people.

No matter how hard they tried, they could never help but be frustrated at how slow the minds of humans were in comparison to their own.

The Archangel didn't mean to be condescending and definitely didn't want to come across as a know-it-all. They loved sharing their knowledge and giving humans a bright idea or a little nudge towards the truth here and there. But trying to get down to a human level was just so hard!

The bits of wisdom and knowledge Uriel could feed humans with were microscopical and carefully considered. It was frustrating. However, the human mind was so limited and fragile, that showing them too much would damage them beyond repair, if the Archangel wasn't extremely careful (and Uriel had been reprimanded several times for accidentally driving humans mad).

It was just so tiring to interact with people (not just humans, people in general), that the Archangel just wanted to be left alone most of the time. So Uriel buried themselves in their study in their own Heavenly quarters most of the time, with writing, literature and art.

Every time they came to Earth, they usually tried to get their job done as quickly as possible

The Archangel of Healing would spend 90% of his time here, running his several pharmacies and helping people in need. Raphael was just too sweet and tender for this world, though that was just Uriel's humble opinion.

Then again, Uriel was also the Angel of Judgement, notorious for being as merciless as any demon – and they were judgemental. They were also the most radical and temperamental Archangel (even Gabriel had more chill and he had incinerated Sodom and Gomorrah without batting an eye).

Uriel felt like they didn't fit in.

Not that anyone other than the Almighty would understand.

.

Right now, it was night time and Uriel was sitting on the edge of the roof of a sky scraper, dangling their legs and enjoying the feeling of the chilly wind in their snow white hair.

They had come to visit Raphael in his surgery in the US, but found themselves unable to.

So they just leaned back and hoped that, if they looked hard enough, they would be able to spy a star.

No such luck.

Stupid fucking light pollution.

It made Uriel upset; they had always loved the stars.

To cheer themselves up a little, they began to hum “Twinkle, twinkle, little star”.

But as they came to the third verse, a quiet noise (which was definitely not the wind or the traffic below) made them tense up. Their face darkened; this low, voiceless laugh they would recognise anywhere.

As they turned around to glare at the newcomer, they found a tall woman with tan skin and black hair, smiling and waving hello.

“Did you have to sneak up on me like that?!”, Uriel hissed.

The woman just kept smiling.

Uriel glared harder. “Don't play coy with me, demon! You wanted to startle me into falling off the roof, so that I would have to spread my wings right above the buzzing road, if I didn't want to discorporate!”

The other person smirked and signed: “Guilty as charged. But won't you say hello? Really, you need to learn some manners. I am a Prince and an Archduchess, after all.”

“Go back to Hell!”, Uriel spat.

But when the other just wagged their finger, they gave in and huffed: “Fine. Good evening, Astaroth. What do you want?”

Astaroth changed her shape and a second later stood before Uriel as the blue-haired, pale-faced menace they knew so well. She tucked away her wings (safe for the head pair) and sat beside them.

“I was merely enjoying my vacation”, she signed.

The Archangel held back a snort; of course she was on vacation. The demonic Archduchess was the kind of demon, who would put a decent amount of effort into her work, but also milk every minute of free time she could get.

“That doesn't answer my question, though”, Uriel pointed out. “Again, what do you want from me? Do you have nothing to do? Like tempting people to sloth, making them doubt themselves or giving your summoners all the knowledge they could ever dream of, while robbing them of their place in Heaven, like the manipulative, vile seductress you are? Like in the old days, when you deluded humans into worshipping you as Inanna¹?”

Astaroth smiled lopsidedly and signed: “You flatter me. But I'm not Asmodeus.”

“Definitely”, the Archangel muttered. “At least that arsehole has a work ethic!”

Asmodeus was quite industrious and invested in zir temptation work, which was one of the things that made zir so dangerous. With the Prince of Lust, you could never catch a break; ze was brilliant, subtle and resourceful, but also extremely infuriating. It had taken Uriel almost three thousand years to figure out, how Raphael could stand being around zir for longer than five minutes.

“That aside, Ashtoreth”, Uriel continued, “I'm really in no mood to play your twisted mind games, so fuck off and leave me alone! You being an Archduchess of Hell doesn't give you the right to interrupt my moment of peace and quiet!”

“Watch your language, Archangel”, Astaroth signed with a frown. “It's unbecoming of a heavenly being to be so stroppy and you know it.”

The hoary Archangel just grunted in response.

They knew, that the demoness had a point: they swore way too much. Michael scolded them for it all the time. But they refused to give Astaroth the satisfaction of admitting that she was right.

“You're also quite patronising”, she kept signing, “You ought to treat your elders with more respect.”

“… Seriously?! Are we going there again? You think you being older than me automatically entitles you to my respect? Oh no, that's not how it works! If you want my respect, you have to earn it!”

The blue-haired Archdemon arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”, she mouthed. “That sounds suspiciously like those capitalist corporates, who keep drilling it into people's heads, that if they can't contribute anything to society, they're worthless and undeserving of basic respect and dignity. Then again, they also do the same to non-white people, no matter how hard they work.”

Uriel stared at the demon in utter horror.

Did she really perceive it like that?! They hadn't meant to- they weren't like- they didn't mean or even want to come across like that!

“What, no! You know that's not what I'm trying to say!”, they cried frantically, “What I mean is-”

She put a finger on their mouth and shushed them. “I get what you mean”, she responded, this time telepathically. “You're forgetting, that I know you.”

Yes, know them she did indeed – and Uriel hated her for it.

“How many times have we had this conversation now?”, she inquired. “56 098 times?”

“56 099”, Uriel corrected tiredly. “This one included.”

Suddenly the Archangel felt so exhausted, they wanted to just curl up on that roof and take a nap right then and there. But they weren't stupid enough to do that with Astaroth next to them.

The demon clicked her tongue to get their attention again.

“That aside”, she signed, “I simply chose to join you, because I saw you sitting here on the edge of the roof of a skyscraper, like you wanted to jump and discorporate yourself. I wanted to see what the matter is.”

The Archangel glared at her. “I did not want to discorporate myself by jumping off the roof! Not that it would matter, because my wings would open up reflexively before I hit the ground anyway.”

She tilted her head. “Have you tried it before?”

“Wh- no! Why would I-?” But when they saw her sceptical expression, they gave up. “Alright, fine. Yes, I have tried to kill my previous meat suits before. The last one was male and … and …”

“You couldn't stand having a gross meat roll and balls dangling between your thighs?”, Astaroth guessed.

Uriel bit their lip, but nodded.

Astaroth signed: “Sucks to have to deal with a body you don't want. But back to the matter at hand: why won't you tell me what has you so down in the dumps?”

She put on a winsome smile and Uriel looked away. They would not talk about their problems with her of all people. It was none of her business.

Gently the Archdemon cupped their pallid cheeks, forcing them to face her again.

Her smile said: Come on. Unburden your heart to me.

“You're the enemy”, the Archangel muttered. “Why would I tell you my problems? I have friends and siblings to talk to.”

Her smile became a tad amused: But you don't talk to them.

“I hate you”, Uriel grumbled.

The twin-sister of Lucifer just shrugged, like the smug bitch she was.

With a wave of her hand she encouraged them to speak.

“You wouldn't understand”, the Archangel tried to excuse themselves.

“Try me”, the fallen Evening Star challenged.

“You do not care about your siblings like I care about mine.”

Her black eyes flashed and they could tell she knew it was about Raphael.

There was no point in denying it.

“I know what happened”, the Princess of Hell signed. “Asmodeus told me.”

“Did ze now”, Uriel mumbled.

“Yes. I must admit, I didn't think the little healer had it in him. Pretty ballsy, opposing the Angel of Death, knowing that she could destroy him with just a swing of her scythe.”

Which made the fact, that Raphael had opposed Azrael even more insane.

He was lucky that she was the benevolent and patient Angel she was. Still, Uriel had never seen her so emotional, let alone upset. Ever.

The Angel of Knowledge groaned in despair and grabbed their head with both hands.

“Dammit, Raphael … why did you have to go and screw over Azrael of all Angels?!”

Astaroth clicked her tongue, making Uriel look up and glare at her.

“Now, now”, she signed, “You're talking as if he was fallen or dead. But Raphael is fine, isn't he? He has just been banished to Earth for a while. He has not been stripped of his powers, his immortality or even the Grace of God. On top of that, he spends most of his time on Earth anyway, doesn't he? So what difference does it make?”

Uriel just sighed. To them it made a huge difference.

“Is that what you came here for?”, the Archduchess inquired. “To visit Raphael?”

The Archangel wasn't sure, if the answer was yes or no, but they replied anyways. “Actually, I came here to do my job. I just wanted to give inspiration and little ideas to burned out college and university students. And then I thought … while I'm here, why not visit Raphael? At this hour he's working in the night pharmacy he has here, as you probably know.”

The blue-haired Princess of Hell nodded affirmatively.

“But … when I came near his pharmacy …” They didn't want to finish that sentence.

But they didn't have to, because as soon as their pale red eyes met with the black ones of Astaroth, she understood.

She gave them a pitying look and patted their left hand (Uriel felt their skin crawl at the demon's touch). And then all of the sudden – a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

“What are you plotting?”, they queried with narrowed eyes.

Ashtaroth only smiled serenely, which made Uriel even more suspicious.

Then she snapped her finger … and all the lights in the city went out at once.

The only light sources were now the moon, the heavenly gleam emitting from the Archangel and the eerie red glow coming from the Princess of Hell.

.

In another part of the city, Archangel Raphael was trying to calm down his freaked out customers.

“Everybody settle down!”, he cried out. “It's just a blackout. There is no reason to panic!”

“Hold on!”, a female voice piped up, “I think I got this – wait a second!”

And a lamp in the pharmacy went back on.

The frightened people relaxed a little and went on to get their prescribed medication from Raphael (they always got it for free, no matter how expensive it was. The people had no idea how he could afford that, but they loved him for it. Little did they know that he was an Archangel in disguise, using too many miracles to get his hands on expensive meds, keep pharmaceutical giants off his back and pay his bills).

Through the commotion, Raphael turned to the person next to him and whispered: “What the heck is going on?!”

“Must have been a demonic miracle”, the other whispered back. “Certainly wasn't me, though.”

Raphael frowned, but went back to handing out the exact medication each of his customers needed.

Meanwhile the person limped over to the window to see, if the blackout affected the neighbourhood as well.

“Damn! Seems like the whole city has been affected – OH WOW! EVERYBODY, LOOK AT THE NIGHT SKY!”

The delighted outcry caused everyone to run out and see it for themselves.

There were oohs and aahs, like they had never seen a really dark sky before – and considering this was New York, they probably hadn't.

A small child in a wheelchair asked her parents: “Mommy, daddy! What are those things! Are they UFOs?”

“Holy shit! They are!”, an adult man cried.

But then someone started to cackle and everybody turned to a tall blonde woman with a walking cane.

“Silly man!”, Asmodeus snickered. “Those aren't UFOs! Those are the stars! And that white structure running across the sky, that's our galaxy, the Milky Way! Have you never seen a starry sky before?”

“… Nah”, the man admitted sheepishly. A few others admitted that neither had they.

The girl in the wheelchair tugged at Asmodeus' coat. “Ma'am, are you sure they're not aliens?”

Asmodeus nodded. “Absolutely. Now, don't look so disappointed!”, ze laughed at the child's pout. “Look at the stars! Don't you think they're pretty?”

The kid's pout morphed into a huge smile and she nodded enthusiastically.

Meanwhile Raphael had joined the crowd outside.

When he looked up, he too couldn't help but be in awe. It had been ages, since he had seen such a dark sky and it was just so …

“Raphael.”

The Archangel of Healing turned to his nemesis. To his shock, zir eyes were misty (of course it was too dark for the humans to notice, but he saw it nonetheless) and ze was visibly struggling to keep zir emotions in check.

“Look at the stars!”, ze whispered. “Look at them! When was the last time we saw a sky like this, you and I? I can see all of the constellations, big and small! I can see my constellation! I … I can see my star!”

When one thought about it, it was actually irrational to get so excited, as the Polaris, the star in question, was the brightest star of the constellation it belonged to (Ursa Minor) and one of the brightest in the night sky. And it didn't even belong to Asmodeus' constellation (Ursa Major)².

But that was a human's point of view.

The Prince of Lust – as a demon, who taught zir summoners astronomy, among other things – was wired differently. And so was Archangel Raphael.

He smiled: “Yes. They're spectacular. Just like you.”

Ze whirled around and stared at him in surprise. Then zir expression softened.

“Silly, little Archangel”, ze muttered.

But Raphael didn't fail to notice the faint blush on the Archdemon's face even in the darkness.

And the Archangel couldn't help but grin just a little.

Only a handful of people could get Asmodeus – the notorious Prince of Lust, King of Demons, spouse of Lilith, etc. – flustered and blushing like a teenager.

.

“Did … did you just cause a motherfucking blackout in the entire city of New York?!”, Uriel asked incredulously.

But ere they could do something to fix the chaos, Astaroth snickered.

“Don't worry”, she signed. “I made it so that hospitals aren't afflicted. After all, I wouldn't want Raphael the Demon-Slayer on my back, would I? But fear not, no one is going to die tonight. Well, apart from the mandatory crime victims that happen almost each and every other night.”

Uriel opened their mouth to protest, but she just put a finger onto their mouth and then pointed heavenwards.

Their eyes followed her hand in confusion, only to widen in surprise.

The blackout had neutralised the light pollution.

And there were the stars, decorating the sky and shining down onto the world in all their splendour. There was the Milky Way and Uriel could see the constellations they were responsible for.

“You wanted to see this, didn't you?”, Astaroth asked telepathically. “I saw the longing in your eyes, as you looked at the sky earlier. And …” she grinned, “… you were humming 'Twinkle, twinkle, little star' of all songs.”

“Shush”, Uriel grumbled, but couldn't really find it in their heart to be angry.

And judging by the coy smile on Astaroth's face, she was quite aware of it.

“Just lean back, look up to the stars and relax”, she signed. “Who cares about the chaos and the mass panic of those silly humans? Raphael can fix that for you.”

For once the Angel of Knowledge followed that advice, knowing that they could indeed count on the Healing Angel to handle this.

.

The two lay like that on the roof for a few hours, just enjoying the extremely rare view of a really dark and starry night sky over New York.

Then the Archduchess whistled lowly to catch the Archangel's attention.

Uriel gave her a questioning glance.

But the look they received in return made them sigh: an encouraging smile. And Uriel knew exactly what Astaroth wanted to encourage them to do.

Although, now that their mind was more at ease, they thought they could do it.

The hoary Archangel rose and the Archdemon followed.

“Can you come with me?”, Uriel asked. A childish request really, but just to be sure they would actually do it.

In response she took one of their hands and teleported both of them a few yards away from the pharmacy, where Raphael seemed to be seeing off a few customers.

Having brought the Archangel of Knowledge where they wanted to be, Astaroth gave them a slight nudge into the other Archangel's direction, before waving goodbye and teleporting herself elsewhere.

Uriel took a deep breath, told themselves to stop being a wuss and went over to say hello.

To Uriel's agitation (though not to their surprise), that smug arsehole Asmodeus was there too.

And sure enough, ze noticed them first: “Oh, Raphael! Look who has come to visit you!”

Raphael whirled around and his face lit up brighter than the sun.

“Uriel!”

At once the hoary Archangel was tackled by the small bespectacled brunet that was Archangel Raphael and he was beaming up at them.

“What a pleasant surprise!”, he exclaimed happily. “I didn't know you were in New York!”

Asmodeus cleared zir throat, reminding them that ze was there.

“I'm leaving you two to it”, ze told them. “I don't really appreciate being the third wheel, so I'll be on my merry way.”

Then ze addressed Uriel. “By the way, you don't happen to know, who caused the blackout?”

Uriel sighed: “Astaroth. She wanted to watch the stars with me. She also took me here.”

Asmodeus pouted: “Aww! Really, she could at least have said hello! Oh well. I suppose I'll have to thank her later, for this beautiful night sky.”

With a wink ze added: “Thank you for this night, Raphael! It was delightful! See you soon, my beloved nemesis! And I suppose you too, Uriel. Bye!” Then ze was gone.

Uriel scowled at the spot from which the Prince of Lust just had vanished.

“Fucking arsehole!”, they grumbled.

“I know”, Raphael chuckled. “But let's not dwell on that! Oh, it's so good to see you! It's so sweet of you to visit! I miss you all so much, you have no idea! You have to tell me everything! How have you been? How are our siblings? And the other Angels, are they okay?”

Uriel smiled: “Don't worry, everyone is fine.”

“Come inside with me!”, the smaller Archangel bubbled excitedly. “I will fix us both some coffee. I have to go back to London in a few hours, but until then we will have a lot to talk about!”

Then he pulled them inside.

.

---

.

1) Inanna: Mesopotamian goddess of love, sex, beauty, fertility, war, the planet Venus, justice and political power. Also known as Ishtar and eventually as Astarte/Ashtoreth, from whom Astaroth is derived. 2) In the Testament of Solomon, Asmodeus mentions to Solomon, that zir star (i.e. constellation) is the Big Dipper, which belongs to the constellation Ursa Major. My headcanon (and it's really just that, I swear) is that Asmodeus was formerly the Angel of the Polaris, among other things. The Polaris (which is currently the north star), however, is part of another constellation, the Ursa Minor.

[missjosie27]

Year 3 Part 12- Change is Coming

Hello, everyone!

We have officially reached the end of Year 3 and what a ride it has been thus far. The amount of interest this story has generated despite Hogwarts Mystery being somewhat of a let down is very heartening. It's extremely fun to write, almost like writing therapy in a way.

That being said I'd like to give an update for the future which I will also put in the story notes. This story will not be updated again until the New Year. The reason being I have several other projects I'm trying to juggle not to mention I like to write the story ahead of time and then release it over a period of time.

So, for the month of November I will be writing other things which should be done by December in which I will begin Year 4 and hopefully have completed writing it by January. So I ask for your patience as a I try to get everything done in a very difficult time for me personally. I promise it will be worth the wait. I have lots of fun things planned for Year 4, including for a certain cute Slytherin girl ;)

Anyways, enjoy the chapter! David Grant will be back in no time!

Unlike the previous year, no Professor confronted David about the vaults in the aftermath of breaking into one. He expected McGonagall or Snape to confront him about it. The Potions Master did shoot him nasty glares but asked him no questions and was no worse than he usually was. Of everyone Pince was the most likely to try and either punish or get him to confess but nothing of the sort occurred. Oddly enough, he thought the irritable librarian might be side stepping him on purpose as she consistently avoided his gaze while he studied for his exams. But there was one similarity: as it was with the ice the boggarts seemingly vanished in the aftermath of their excursion. The curse was broken.

As for the other affairs at Hogwarts, Dumbledore had returned although no one knew just exactly where he’d gotten off to in the first place. There were rumors to be sure (including one where he allegedly slayed a Hungarian Horntail and another where he took a two week holiday at a muggle resort in France in order to study the magical properties of champagne) but none of them were substantiated. The third, soon to be fourth year, Gryffindor considered himself lucky that the Headmaster was not present during his latest escapade but nevertheless remained on his guard. Very little got by the old man despite his outwardly friendly, eccentric demeanor.

Exams were soon concluded as was the Quidditch season. Unfortunately for the Lions, Slytherin won their last matchup giving the snakes victory in the Quidditch Cup which was difficult to stomach given their resounding success the previous year. Charlie Weasley took it especially hard, but all were reassured by the words of Bill, who reminded everyone the same squad was returning next year and they had only lost their two games by a margin of 100 points. Despite the disappointing season Skye Parkin and Charlie remained two of the brightest young stars in Hogwarts.

Exams were formally concluded by the second week in June and to celebrate their marks among other things Bill also suggested they celebrate at the Three Broomsticks during the last visit to Hogsmeade. With a not so subtle wink he also made plans to invite everyone involved with the latest vault, signaling their latest triumph.

Though still mentally a bit fatigued, David thought the idea was a good one and supposed if there was any time to kick back and relax it was now. The map of the forest and the broken arrow were safely locked away in his trunk, and despite feeling like he was still far from finding Jacob, he was content for now that the boggarts had disappeared and Hogwarts returned to normalcy. Besides, he had a feeling a proper discussion regarding the latest vault was imminent at the Three Broomsticks.

All the same, it wasn’t a proper school year without one last confrontation with Merula Snyde.

It was a bright, sunny day, the kind that reinvigorates the bones and the soul when the weather turns warm in the highlands of Scotland. Happy to forgo the black robes of his uniform, he dressed himself in a white t shirt, red zip up jacket, blue jeans, and a pair of black vans he was quite fond of from a muggle company called ‘vans’ (he saw the advertisement on a commercial street in London and convinced his mother the value of such a purchase). Glancing one last time at the trunk he kept his things in he muttered to himself.

“Two vaults down. I wish finding you was simpler Jacob, we could be a family again if you just came back...why...why don’t you come back?”

Feeling a rare moment of tears surging through, David wiped them and buried the feelings just as he always did. He did not want to lose face in front of his friends nor indicate anything was wrong. A butterbeer and a few jokes would be enough to keep the pain at bay for at least a little while.

He left Gryffindor Tower which by now was largely devoid of anyone given it was a sunny day, exams were done, and most people were out and about. It was only when he reached the edge of the Great Hall that the Slytherin girl stepped out from the shadows.

“Grant.”

“Good Lord, we need to put a bell on you,” he quipped.

But Merula wasn’t laughing, though she almost never smiled (unless it there was malicious intent) this time there was a hard, stony faced expression that betrayed both frustration and deep seated anger.

“I know you found that vault and I know you broke that boggart curse,” she told him quietly.

“Good job, detective. Do you want a medal for special services for the school?”

It was quite remarkable how easy it was to get underneath her skin, but for once David didn’t have the energy to spend going back and forth with her. He was tired and in no mood to pull out his wand and duel her for the umpteenth time.

By the same token, he was prepared to all the same.

“I hope you enjoy your little victory with your pathetic friends. Savor it while you can,” Merula sneered at him.

“I will, thank you,” he responded coolly. “Can’t say the same for you though.”

The teenage Slytherin’s scowl morphed into a snarl as her fists clenched but she did not reach for her wand.

“Why?” she spoke through the clenched teeth. “Why do you always do this?!”

“You’re going to have to be more specific. I do a lot of things.”

“This!” Merula gestured wildly with her hands. “Every time we fight or battle you just respond with stupid wisecracks! And on top of that you always win!!”

David recognized straight away that this was not a typical tantrum from his long standing rival. Rather it was a plea, a desperate attempt to justify why things had gone the way they had. An answer for all of her failures.

“Merula, you’re looking at this the wrong way,” came his straightforward reply.

“And how should I be looking at it?” she snarled.

“I’m not going into these vaults so I can become rich or hold myself above everyone else...I’m doing it for my brother and for the friends who have my back.”

“I had friends!” Merula shot back. “Until you bloody well took Tulip and Barnaby from me!”

“I took no one from you,” David replied more forcefully. “They chose to join my side because you treated them like rubbish and didn’t feel like taking your orders anymore.”

But Merula refused to heed him.

“It’s your fault! Everything bad that’s happened to me is your fault!”

“Classic Merula Snyde,” the Gryffindor said with an angry sigh. “Can dish it out but can’t take it. Have you ever once thought that you might be wrong? Are you capable of caring about anything except yourself?”

“I-I...you-”

“You don’t know what a friend is because you’ve never had one,” he interrupted her. “I doubt you’ve ever cared to either.“

“Don’t pretend to know me, Grant!” Merula shouted. “There is nothing about my life you could possibly understand!”

“Maybe not, but I do know one thing: if you keep on doing the same thing over and over again expect the same results. And if attacking, insulting, and lying to me hasn’t worked thus far, you may want to consider that the source of your misfortune originates with yourself and not with me.”

For the first time since arriving at Hogwarts, David Grant had left Merula Snyde speechless. No comeback, taunt, or rejoinder came from her mouth. Instead, it was sealed shut in a tight line and once more he could see that same hurt in her eyes. The soft lavender tortured by pain and anguish. Temptation to express sympathy became suddenly apparent but that emotion was pushed back. How were you supposed to feel sorry for someone who tried to make your life miserable just because of their own hubris?

She’s right, I don’t understand. I don’t think I ever will.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have some people waiting for me at the Three Broomsticks. See ya next year.”

As he moved past Merula, he was prepared to engage her again if she attacked. But this time retaliation was absent as the Slytherin stood stock still, posture unchanging.

Taking the staircase down to the grounds, David wondered how long it would be before she moved again.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Thankfully, the Three Broomsticks was a much noisier but merrier environment and sure enough the entirety of his friends were there- Bill, Penny, Rowan, Ben, Tulip, Tonks, and Barnaby sitting at one of the corner booths. All were partaking in a round of butterbeer and to his pleasant surprise there was a full mug of it untaken as though it were waiting for him.

“Dave! You made it!” Rowan exclaimed. “What took you so long?”

“Had another run in with Merula,” he said frankly.

That caused the entire table to give pause.

“Did you have to-”

“Strangely enough she didn’t attack me this time,” he answered Ben straight away. “It was more like yelling and flailing angrily.”

Bill shrugged, edging the glass mug towards him.

“Well no need to worry about her now. Have a butterbeer. Madam Rosmerta said it was on the house.”

“Cheers, mate!” he thanked, raising his glass and taking a sweet sip.

“I propose a toast,” Tulip declared, raising her own glass. “All hail the conquering cursebreaker! Long may he reign!”

“Here, here!” the rest of the group shouted out.

David was genuinely touched.

“Thank you, all. I couldn’t have done it without any of you….though you might want to be careful where you say that. ‘Officially’ we weren’t anywhere near the vault, remember?”

“Nah don’t worry about that,” Tulip told him. “I’ve heard Pince was so embarrassed about the situation she hasn’t said a peep. Not even to Dumbledore.”

“The Professors aren’t dumb, they know that someone broke the curse on the vault since most of the boggarts vanished. I heard Professor Snape was on the warpath at the latest Prefect’s meeting,” Bill informed them.

“He is,” Barnaby confirmed taking a long swig. “Merula told him about Madam Pince, the Restricted Section, and the Cursed Vault.” A proud grin stretched across his face. “She forgot to mention the part where I defeated her and Ismelda.”

“So if he knows why isn’t he hauling my ass into his office right now tearing me a new one?” David asked.

“It’s like what Tulip said,” Tonks replied. “Pince is too embarrassed to admit what happened. Didn’t stop her from giving me detention through next year though.”

“There’s no proof,” Ben agreed. “Even I’m not worried.”

“Thought I think getting detention into next year might be a new Hogwarts milestone,” David said chuckling and raising his glass towards his pink haired friend. “Congrats.”

“That dungbomb was all for you, Dave. It was also totally worth it.”

“Feels good to get off scot free,” Tulip agreed. “Well almost all of us, anyway. I don’t want to say it was all due to my brilliant plan but…”

“What did you find in the vault, David?” Penny asked eagerly. It was a question she had clearly been dying to ask.

“We found a map of the Forbidden Forest and a broken arrow. So more clues just as it was last time.”

“I’d wager all my galleons and gobstone set that the next vault is in the Forbidden Forest. It won’t be like this year where we had to spend an enormous amount of time just figuring out where the location was. I know I’ll be reading about it all summer,” Rowan chimed in.

“You mentioned in our last private chat that the map had the letter ‘R’ in the top left corner,” Bill said. “Do you have any theories on that?”

David’s eyes scanned the table before lingering on Ben.

“I’ve been wondering the same thing….”

If his gaze was accusatory it was unintentional but it had the added effect of everyone else doing the same thing which unnerved the muggle born Gryffindor.

“Why is everyone looking at me?”

He has no idea. He can’t even remember David thought to himself.

“Ben...I don’t know how to explain this because you couldn’t remember anything...but last year we found a letter on your person addressed to me signed from someone named ‘R’.”

“We think they are possibly related given the circumstances,” Rowan added. “But it’s a suspicious part of this whole mystery. Surely you remember something, right?”

“But I don’t!” Ben protested. “I don’t know what happened. One moment I’m on the train looking for you guys and the next thing I remember was waking up in a huge block of ice freezing to death. You believe me, right Dave?”

There was no lie in the boy’s eye. Someone like Ben was practically incapable of harming or hurting another human being and he’d come quite a ways from the frightened first year he once was.

“I do, Ben. Don’t worry, we’re not accusing you of anything. Just trying to connect the small amount of clues we have.”

Ben smiled in appreciation but that was not the end of the topic.

“I hope you aren’t lying to protect us. We can’t help each other unless we know what’s going on,” Rowan said, a harshness to his tone that wasn’t usually there.

Ben’s reply was honest but somewhat cool as he looked Rowan straight in the eye.

“I’m not lying to protect you, I promise.”

Sensing some tension Bill quickly interjected with a positive smile.

“Let’s worry about mystery maps and unexplained memory loss for another day. We’re here to celebrate together and that’s what counts. Now how bout some more butterbeer?”

And so they did, talking, laughing, rejoicing, talking about many subjects. Of particular interest was Penny and Rowan’s regalement of their role in distracting Pince, which took on a whole new dimension when Tonks set off the dungbomb too close for comfort (“It took so long to get the smell out of my braids!” the blonde remarked). Also of note was the fact that the Slytherin Quidditch team celebrated their victory by pulling a prank on top of the Astronomy Tower: hanging a pair of knickers which no one knew how they managed to pull off (“I could have done way better!” Tonks claimed). All in all, it was the perfect end of the year party.

After what seemed like hours and into the mid afternoon, Hagrid made an unexpected but welcome appearance.

“Arigh’ there David?” he boomed coming up to the table. “Celebratin’ with one last butterbeer before yeh all go home fer the holidays?”

“Right you are, Hagrid! Come on, pull up a chair. Join us.”

“I’d love teh, but I was actually sent ter give yeh a message.”

David cocked an eyebrow.

“And what would that be?”

“Professor Dumbledore wants teh see yeh in his office,” the large gameskeeper replied looking a bit sheepish.

The group immediately went silent as they all gave looks of concern that all indicated the obvious question: did Dumbledore, even in his absence, know all along?

“If it makes yeh feel better, Dave the boggarts are almost all gone,” Hagrid tried to reassure him upon witnessing his distress.

“Thank you. But I best not keep him waiting.”

He reluctantly drained his glass, gave a goodbye to his friends and prepared to face the music.

Maybe Tonks will have a detention buddy next year

He didn’t want to think about a possible worst outcome.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Surprisingly, the password to Dumbledore’s office was the same as it was the previous year ‘lemon drop’ which made David wonder if it was an unintentional design flaw or genius due to the fact that most young witches and wizards had no idea what a lemon drop was. Either way, he didn’t think the upcoming conversation was going to be about muggle sweets as he stepped past the gargoyle and up the rotating stairs.

Unlike the last instance in which he’d been inside this office, the outline and appearance was not as wondrous a second time though the layout was still quite impressive. And on this occasion, Dumbledore didn’t waste any time delving into the matter.

“Ah, Mr. Grant. Please come forward.”

David did so, quite afraid that the Headmaster was not going to be so forgiving and direct him to pack his bags, his wand to be snapped in two. The warning at the beginning of the year echoed loudly in his head. However, whatever the old man was feeling he gave no indication as the bearded face and sparkling blue eyes remained passively neutral.

“This has become something of a tradition,” Dumbledore began. “Our annual opportunity to discuss life, love, endless heroics, and egregious misbehavior.”

“It seems so, sir.”

He was almost tempted to give up right then and there but if there was one thing he’d learned about Dumbledore in his time at Hogwarts it was to expect the unexpected. Therefore he decided to say little for now.

“I understand much transpired in my two week absence.”

“Yes, Professor. More than you could imagine.”

“Even the wildest imaginations could not have come up with the tales retold to me,” Dumbledore said, that familiar twinkle returning to his eye. “Dragons in the common rooms, mummies in closets, werewolves in greenhouses, and Voldemort himself lurking in every cupboard.”

You have no idea

“There was more than one report that even I made an appearance in boggart form.”

“I’m surprised people would be afraid of you sir….by the way does this mean the boggarts are all gone?”

A knowing look passed over Dumbledore’s features.

“I believe you have already made the observation for yourself, David. However, yes most of them are gone. It is important to note, however, that boggarts can never truly be banished because they are born of human emotion. Fortunately they can be of some use. Defense Against the Dark Arts classes can practice ‘Ridikkulus’ on the remaining ones for years to come.”

There was a slight pause in which the old man put something away into his magnificent desk.

“But I’m sure that’s nothing compared to what you faced in this latest vault. Please, tell me everything.”

So he did know. David supposed there wasn’t any use in playing dumb anymore as almost nothing got by the Headmaster in the first place. Yet, it was still amazing to him that he was able to glean his transgressions regardless.

“Sir, I-”

“There is no need to lie, David in case you were thinking of doing so. You are not in trouble for the time being. Please be honest.”

Reassuring enough

The third year Gryffindor acquiesced. Though he left out the details of some parts such as Tulip’s plan, his brother’s room, and the full extent of Bill’s involvement, he was truthful to the letter about what horrors lay inside and the fact that his boggart was You Know Who. Upon finishing his tale Dumbledore took a moment to muse before responding.

“This is all quite fascinating. It seems as though someone else tampered with the vaults which released the multitudes of boggarts.”

“Yes, sir. Originally, I did try to do as you asked at the beginning of the year.”

“And do you know the reason why your boggart takes the form of Lord Voldemort?”

Resisting the urge to shudder at the name, David debated on how to properly answer. Though he gave Tulip a truthful answer before, it was not the full truth, one that had only just come to bear by virtue of entering the vault.

“It’s not You Know Who himself. It’s more what he represents.”

“And what does he represent to you?”

Dumbledore’s eyes were piercing over his half moon spectacles but they were also gentle and understanding giving his pupil ample time to respond. When David did finally answer, it was difficult to get the words out.

“Guilt,” he said with tremendous effort. “Guilt over Jacob and why he left. The rumors after his disappearance about joining You Know Who were constant. If you want a reason why I went after the vaults again that’s the main one. To try and find him...I heard his voice speaking to me in the vault again...”

He couldn’t continue but there was no need to say more as Dumbledore nodded empathetically.

“Naturally. And if I had such information I would certainly share it. However, the mystery of Jacob Grant remains. While I cannot speak to his location I can speak to my personal theory that he yet lives...your bond is proof of that.”

David nodded in return but he was unable to discuss his brother any longer. Switching gears, there was a question he had for Dumbledore as well.

“Professor, you’ve gone at certain points in each of the past two years. Where exactly have you been?”

“Ah yes, I believe it is my turn to answer some questions,” the old man said with good humor. “I take it you’ve heard the wild rumors.”

“Almost every single one.”

“Then you must have discerned I was not in France to discern the magical properties of champagne though it is rather tasty I must say,” Dumbledore chuckled. “No, I have been seeking the world’s finest curse breaker. One who has had intimate experience with the cursed vaults. An exceptional pupil of mine back when my beard was shorter and browner.”

“Who is she?” David couldn’t help but ask.

“A woman by the name of Patricia Rakepick. At present she is currently exploring recently discovered ruins under the Brazilian wizarding school Castelobruxo.”

Familiarity with that name rang through the teen’s head.

“Rakepick...I know that name. I gave Bill a book about her adventures in cursebreaking. I had no idea.”

“Indeed, she is considered one of the magical community’s premiere experts on the subject. When the next year begins, she will be at Hogwarts to assist us with these vaults. I am most interested in hearing her opinion of them and of you.”

Dumbledore’s face then turned stern but the blue eyes did not lose all of its twinkle.

“You have directly disobeyed me, yet you have also once again broken a curse that threatened the livelihood and safety of everyone here. I am running out of excuses for you, David. If you repeat this offense again with a professional on staff, I will not be able to insulate you from further punishment.”

This was the Headmaster at his most serious and despite his general easy going demeanor it was not lost on David that this was also the only man You Know Who ever feared. It would not do to openly argue.

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry.”

Dumbledore gestured towards his left, indicating a bright red and yellow bird, sitting on a perch in all its splendor.

“Actions are far better than apologies. Take Fawkes for example. From time to time the Phoenix is reborn- fresh and rejuvenated. You have that power too. Take the summer, and when you return to Hogwarts, start fresh.”

David nodded emphatically taking in the beauty of the Phoenix.

“Yes, sir. I’ll do my best.”

The old man’s faithful smile was back again.

“In the meantime, take one hundred points for Gryffindor. I daresay that might take the sting out of losing the Quidditch Cup this year.”

“You don’t know the half of...I mean, thank you, Professor.”

Dumbledore laughed heartily.

“I can always count on a whimsical remark from you in our conversations, David. However, there is one more thing I wish to tell you. Though the Vault of Fear has been broken it’s legacy remains ever present in our lives. Fear causes human beings to act in ways they would not normally, and though the Voldemort you fought was only a boggart, the real Dark Lord used the exact same method to gain followers and seize power. Remember that it is only by confronting our worst nightmares that we rise above them and truly become better people. No doubt that is one of many lessons you’ve taken this year.”

The wisdom was not lost on the young Gryffindor. He did not need to be afraid of Jacob or him joining You Know Who. The only method now was to move forward in continuing the search for his lost brother.

“Yes, sir.”

Feeling he was dismissed, David turned to leave but not before one last telling remark from the Headmaster.

“David, my last bit of wisdom was not aimed solely for you alone. There are many other students who could stand to start fresh next year. Including one miss Merula Snyde.”

He didn’t respond to that and didn’t need to. The implication was clear enough. Everyone was going to go through some changes in the coming months. What kind had still yet to be determined.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dumbledore’s last second gesture allowed the Gryffindors to eek by the Slytherins for the House Cup, which did not sit well with the snakes, however given that it was the end of the year, it was too late to do much about it. The party in the tower the night before graduation was legendary. So much so that Angelica Cole even drunkenly admitted how much she cared for and would miss him.

“You’ll be a great prefect,” she slurred, firewhiskey in hand.

David wasn’t overly concerned with that. The naming of prefects for his peer group was still another year away and he knew that Rowan or Charlie were the most likely candidates anyway. At the forefront of his mind was the long summer ahead, a time of relaxation and fun for most people, but for the Grant family there would be little to no vacations. His father would stay stoically silent, his mother constantly hen pecking...only his grandfather seemed to truly sympathize with him.

I reap the consequences of Jacob’s absence, he thought to himself at one point. Mum and Dad are incapable of seeing that

Still, he was able to enjoy the train ride home with his friends, which was a small consolation for the isolated, controlled environment he could expect upon his return to Bath. He scanned the prophet for any signs of beat writers catching wind of the boggart problem at Hogwarts but saw nothing, not even from the notorious Rita Skeeter. Breathing a sigh of relief, he supposed that unless Dumbledore lettered his parents, they would never know he had disobeyed them as well.

“Are you okay, David?” Rowan asked.

He tossed aside the newspaper and rubbed his eyes.

“Yeah sorry, mate. Was just finishing up checking the Quidditch scores.”

“Seems like something else is on your mind, though.”

His best friend knew him better than most people, so he supposed it was fitting he’d realize not everything was settled inside (least of which the eggs and bacon he consumed that morning).

“This year was the most interesting one yet,” he said aloud as he looked out the window. “And yet I feel next year will be even more so. My gut tells me a lot is going to change.”

“It may,” Rowan acknowledged. “But it may not be all bad. You’ll see.”

David turned around and observed the group in front of him- Ben, Charlie, Tulip, and Penny, his hazel blue eyes dilating slightly at the two girls, noticing just how pretty they looked.

“Yeah...maybe you’re right.”

“Besides if there’s one thing I can count on it’s cursebreaking adventures with my best friend.”

David clapped an appreciative hand on Rowan’s shoulder, warmth rushing through his heart.

“Thanks, mate...you’re just interested in reading about the Forbidden Forest this summer aren’t you?”

Rowan laughed at the joke.

“You caught me. Now come on, let’s go play some exploding snap.”

And so they did, and David was able to enjoy the last few sunny hours on the train. All the while he was able to heed the lesson this latest vault had taught him. It did no good to live in fear, especially when you had friends to count on.

But as it was every year, the ride back to Platform nine and three quarters was always quicker than the journey from there. Soon, everyone was unloading their luggage, saying hello to their families against the backdrop of the sunkissed day and over the roar of the hissing steam emanating from the train.

“Another vault down, another one to go,” Bill told him with a grin, shaking his hand. “Can’t wait to do this again next year.”

“As always, Bill. And who knows maybe we can finally get Charlie involved.”

“If you manage to get him away from dragons and Quidditch you might have a shot,” the elder Weasley laughed. “My folks are waiting in the parking lot, but make no mistake mum is very keen to meet you. We have to invite you for Christmas some time.”

“I’d be honored.”

Next was Tulip who had that ever present mischievous smirk but it was much softer in the presence of a farewell.

“Take care, David Grant. You’re a very intriguing person, and I can safely say I’m very glad I met you.”

“I could say the same about you, Tulip,” he responded genuinely. “Nothing we did this year would have happened without you.”

The eccentric Ravenclaw responded with something quite unexpected. She kissed him on the cheek and squeezed his hand once more.

“You’re many things, David Grant. Boring least of all, but most of all a good person. Can’t wait to make more mischief in the fall.”

She winked at him and ran off to join two people, which looked like her parents, one was a stern looking Japanese man with a bowler hat, the other an Irish woman with flowing red hair who also gave no visible emotion on her face. David felt a pang of empathy go through him. His parents may be strict, but he could only imagine what Tulip went through during the summer. He made a point of reference to write to her. Something told they’d both need it.

After exchanging goodbyes with Rowan and Ben, Penny was the last to see him off.

“Summer always seems dreadfully long even if it is my favorite time of year,” Penny told him. “Feel free to write me any time.”

“You know I will,” David said with a smile. “I’ll need all the post I can get.”

The blonde girl rubbed his arm encouragingly.

“It’s not forever, Dave. We’ll see each other again before you know it. Enjoy the holiday with your family!”

David supposed she didn’t know the true origins of his post semester blues, but he didn’t have the heart to tell her it was his family that was precisely the problem.

“I will, Penny. Thank you.”

For the second time in as many instances, he received a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, causing him to go red and touch the spot where he received the affectionate gesture, which made Penny giggle.

“See you next year, cursebreaker of Hogwarts.”

The last thing David had expected was two kisses on the cheek from two of his best female friends and it made him feel quite funny on the inside.

He had little time to dwell on these feelings however as his parents came into view a brown haired man with a goatee and a short blonde woman, waving and walking towards him.

“David!” his mom gushed, giving him an enormous hug. “So glad to see you safe and well. How are you? Did your exams go well?”

“Now, now let him breathe Heather,” his dad said with a light chuckle. “He just got off the train.” He ruffled his son’s dark brown hair in a show of affection. “It is good to see you safe and well, David.”

“Do you have your things unloaded and ready to go? Are you hungry?”

“Don’t worry, mum. I’m all set,” he said quickly to reassure her. Not even a minute in he was already tired of her smothering.

“Very good then, can’t blame a mother for asking.”

“I rented out a ‘Chevro’ something,” his father mentioned to him as they began to walk away from the platform. “Yank automobile. Runs pretty well, I know we can apparate but I’m thinking of buying one for myself. Dead useful these things.”

“John, please keep your voice down lest the entirety of muggle London know what we are.”

“Apologies, dear.”

His mother turned to face him and beamed a great smile but as it was since his brother disappeared there was a subtle sadness and anxiety within them.

“I have good news. We’re going to visit my side of the family this summer at their house for a get together. My brother is having another baby soon. I hope you’re ready for it.”

David thought back to his friends, his Professors, Dumbledore, the map, the broken arrow and the lively face of Jacob whispering to never give up. He looked up at his parents, two people whose lives were still run by fear...fear of losing him.

“Yes,” he replied. “I am.”

[starspatter]

Heroes and Thieves, Ch. 14

Title: Heroes and Thieves Fandom/Universe: BTAS, pre/post-RotJ flashback

Summary: A story about second chances, healing, and having hope.

Rating: PG-13, for references to character death, child psychological torture and trauma.

Genre: Romance/Family/Friendship/Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 2,526 Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

Also on ff.net and AO3.

Lies, lies, lying little beast Lying little man on the corner of the street Singing "Why, I can't come out to play Can't come out and say that I'm afraid of what they'll say"

-Run River North, "Lying Beast"

————————–

Then.

Stephanie walked purposefully down the dormitory hallway towards her destination, which she had learned of through Cass after the other had shockingly announced she was now… “involved” with someone and asked point-blank for her advice.  Steph had been surprised (not to mention maybe a tad jealous) that she had been granted visitation rights before her – especially when she herself wasn’t even sure if she had reached an official “dating” stage yet with her suitor- er, tutor (although they had undergone several “study sessions” together by this point) – but nevertheless was happy for her roommate.  …Besides, her profile’s “single” status would hopefully change today.

Checking her hair and outfit, she nervously fixed and fidgeted a little in front of the doorway, before taking a deep breath and knocking on the entry.  After a moment, it slowly creaked open a crack to reveal a rather confused-looking Tim.

“Steph?  What are you doing here?”

“Hey!  I just came to ask you something quick, if you’re not too busy.”  She beamed her best and brightest.

Tim’s eyes darted anxiously aside as he swallowed.

“Uh, now’s not really a great time…”

“Who’s that, Tim?  A friend of yours?”

Stephanie blinked as a stunningly beautiful woman unexpectedly emerged from behind Tim, ravishing red locks and coquettish lips smiling cordially.

“Ah, you must be Stephanie! Tim’s told me a lot about you.”

Steph’s gaze shifted suspiciously to Tim, who looked like his world had just come crashing down around him.

“…Has he now?”

The stranger grinned widely as she extended her slender palm, revealing twin rows of perfect pearl teeth.

“I’m Barbara Gordon. Pleasure to meet you.”

Tentatively, Steph took it.

“...Nice to meet you. Wait, ‘Gordon’ – as in the new Police Commissioner?”

The woman nodded.

“Bingo, you’re looking at her.”  Her voice abruptly took on an authoritative tone.  “I’m here on official police business, conducting a top-secret investigation.  You wouldn’t happen to have seen any suspicious individuals around, would you?”

“Babs,” Tim cut in sharply as Steph started to sweat and panic.  “That’s enough.  Quit frightening her.”  (Although rather than relieve her apprehension, it only increased further at such informal address.)

…On a first-name basis?

“Kidding, kidding. I’m giving a guest lecture on Criminology over in the West Wing.  Speaking of which,” Barbara glanced at her wristwatch, “I should probably get going. Class starts in 10 minutes.  I just came by to say ‘hi’ to Tim.”

She began to gather up her things, bustling out the exit with a wink to Tim on the way, who only winced and shrank further in response.

“I’ll leave you two kids alone.  Take care, Tim.  I’ll stop by again some other time.”

Steph watched her figure’s wake until it was gone, silently envying sophisticated style and… mature body shape as it sashayed away.

“She’s awfully pretty,” she mused aloud, suddenly feeling even more self-conscious.  “What exactly is your relationship with her?”

Don’t tell me he’s actually into older women.  There’s no way I can compete with that.

Tim rolled his eyes with a sigh.

“It’s not what you think. She’s like an older sister.”

“…Seriously?”

How strangely ‘convenient’ all his supposed ‘relatives’ seem to be gorgeous supermodels.

“Trust me, there’s nothing like that between us.”

She gauged his earnest expression, before accepting assurance.

“All right, I believe you.” Her smile returned as she relaxed. “In that case…”

She fished around in her pocket, pulling out two tickets she won at the Theta-Kapa-Gamma Harvest Festival last week.

“Ta da~!  Tickets to see the monster movie marathon at the old Monarch Theater on Saturday!  You are free, aren’t you?”

Tim blinked as she practically shoved the tiny pieces of perforated paper in his face, fanning gleefully in invitation.  Temptation.

“I am, but…”

He gulped, hesitating as he seemed to desperately search for an excuse.

“I’m… not really a fan of old films…”

He mumbled lamely, appearing extremely uneasy for some reason.

Oh crap.  Don’t tell me I screwed up again.

Steph’s confidence sank in disappointment, recalling how she had once enthusiastically tried to engage Tim in a spontaneous water pistol fight going on in the campus courtyard (despite the season being somewhat ill-suited for the sport), having snuck up on him whilst the victim was reading unawares underneath the shade of a nearby tree, hitting him with a lighthearted squirt.  He had sat there, stunned, as he stared at the childish toy weapon in her hand, before wiping his soaked cheek with the back of his sleeve.  Slamming his book shut, he stated with such startlingly quiet, intense anger it took her aback:

“I don’t like guns.”

…Before standing up and stalking off in silence.

Still, she had hoped this would make up for it, that it could be something they’d both enjoy, spend some real quality time doing together (besides studying anyway, which she was starting to get sick and tired of as tests approached).  Who didn’t care for a good old-fashioned camp scare around Halloween?  …Maybe he just needed to give it a chance.

“Hey, don’t knock it ‘till you’ve tried it.  Have you ever even seen Dracula or Frankenstein?”

He shook his head.

“Whaaat, you’re missing out on some classics!  Come on, it’ll be fun.  We’ve both been working so hard, we deserve a break.  Cass has a pair of passes too, so she and Conner are going to be there as well.  We can totes double together.”  (Incidentally, it had been a little odd how her partner had been so fortunate as to receive the exact same prize at the booth’s trivia guessing game right after her, but she’d learned not to question Cassandra’s keen – if sometimes creepily uncanny – sense of intuition.)

Tim bit his lip, but acquiesced at her pleading puppy eyes, which shone with eager stars of anticipation.

“…Okay.”

“Great!  It’s a date then.”  She exclaimed excitedly as she handed him his half of the voucher.

“A… date.”

He repeated robotically, surveying the stub as if in disbelief.

“I’ll see you on Saturday then.”

She waved as she skipped off, emboldened by sweet success.  In her jubilee, she accidentally ran straight into Conner as he coincidentally came round the corner, heading back to his room as well.

“Whoa, watch it there!”

He caught her just before she fell (unlike before, this sturdy target was obviously a lot harder to knock over), and she blushed a tinge as she felt his huge, strong arms wrap around her shoulder.

Man, what is it with me and bumping into hot guys recently?  …Not that I’m complaining, mind.

She wasn’t sure whether to be overjoyed or embarrassed by this recurring situation, but settled for leaning towards the former.  Conner, on the other hand, seemed a little less thrilled upon realizing the person in his grasp.

“Oh, it’s you. …Actually, good timing.  I want to talk to you about Tim.”

He raised her up, but kept a firm grip on her collar as he drew her back round the bend.  …It was almost a little painful, the amount of pressure his paw was putting on her petite stature.  His countenance was severely solemn as he stooped forward to meet her level.

“…Look, I’m just gonna come right out and say it so you don’t get the wrong idea.  Tim’s… ‘delicate’.  I mean, really delicate.”  He frowned, icy blue irises flaring dangerously as his dense, digging fingers deepened into the folds of her blouse, contracting and contacting to the bone.  “You need to watch what you say and do around him.  I swear, if you ever do anything intentionally to hurt him, I will never forgive you.  You got that?”

She recoiled, reasoning he was likely referring to the gun stunt.

Is he… making a genuine threat?

Steph was somewhat scared now as his shadow loomed over her, backing her against the wall.  She nodded meekly.

“U- understood.”

“Good.”

He released her, and she rubbed at the sore spot on her skin, wondering if it was going to leave a bruise. She was also starting to wonder what the heck Cass saw in this big dumb brute.  He was admittedly attractive, sure, but personality-wise he was Tim’s complete opposite: loud, brash, obnoxious – not to mention arrogant – basically your stereotypical jock.  And yet…

“You really care a lot about Tim, don’t you?”

Conner sniffed.  “Of course I do.  He’s my best friend.”

…’Friend’, huh?

The way he behaved seemed to go far beyond mere “friendship” though.  He was almost acting like an overprotective guardian.  …Or a possessive one.

“Could it be that you’re… jealous?”

“Me?  Jealous? Of you?”  Conner scoffed.  “Why on earth would I be jealous?  Just because you’re the one getting him to finally open up and trust you, participate in a bunch of social activities he never normally would, even though I’ve tried so hard to motivate him to be more outgoing over these past few years? To convince him to talk to me about his problems?  To be the kind of stupid-ass cliché you huma- people find so damn popular just so no one else would dare to mess with him?”

He laughed like a bark, though it sounded slightly strained.  Pained. Stephanie softened at such a display of devotion.

…Maybe he’s not such an oaf after all.

“For what it’s worth, I think you’ve done a lot more for him than you give yourself credit for.  I’m sure he appreciates having you as a pal.”

She cautioned a comforting pat on his broad muscle.

“Don’t worry, it’s not like I’m trying to steal him away from you or anything.  Besides, you’re doing the same thing for Cass, aren’t you? Trying to help her break out of her shell?  Heck, I’ve noticed she’s been a lot more vocal ever since you two started seeing each other.”

Conner rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“You think?  I mean, I guess you could say that.  I dunno, it feels like I’m not really right for her…  She’s so serious and deep, and – and next to her I feel like a total doofus most of the time…”

Stephanie couldn’t help but sympathize.  They were a weird couple, to be sure, but then the same could easily be said about her and Tim.

“Hey, far be it from me to judge, but even if it doesn’t seem like you’re made for each other off the bat, I think you owe it to yourselves to try and explore those feelings at least. You never know, maybe it will work out.”

…It might’ve been her imagination, but the margins of his mouth seemed to twitch a bit at the word “made”.  He coughed as he replied contritely though.

“Thanks.  And, uh, sorry about being rough earlier.”

“It’s all right.”  She smirked.  “You were just defending your ‘delicate’ flower’s honor.”

A humiliated flush crept onto his visage.

“Oi, despite what you may have heard, it’s not like that.”

“It’s okay,” she giggled in understanding.  “I feel the same way about Cass.  …I suppose you could consider it even then?”

“Um… I suppose.”  He looked confounded by the straightforward confession, but shrugged, not wanting to think too hard about it anymore, lest things get overly complicated.  “So… We good then?”

She smiled.

“Yeah.  We’re good.”

…

When the weekend rolled around, Stephanie dragged Cassandra clothes shopping before the big day, insisting on doing her hair and makeup as well.  By the time they arrived at the cinema, the boys were already there waiting, checking their watches out in the cold.  While she sheepishly apologized on both behalves for being “fashionably late”, Steph figured it was worth it when she saw their slack jaws at how much fashion had transformed them.  The guys were dressed decently to impress as well, both sporting smart leather jackets (although Tim’s looked a size too big for him, and Conner still had on that ruddy black Superman T-shirt underneath that seemed like it came from a little kid’s closet).

She took the initiative in lining up with Tim to order snacks and soda, in the meantime telling the other two to go find four seats together.  Luckily they didn’t have to wait long, as there didn’t seem to be many customers despite it being a Saturday.  (To be fair those tickets were probably pretty cheap and undesirable to given away free at some college fest.) Although she kept chatting cheerfully to try and pass the time, her other company seemed even more uncomfortable than usual in the lightly crowded lobby, hardly able to carry a conversation – let alone the food – all the way to the viewing room.  She began to worry if this had been a mistake to bring him here, and prayed the darkness and drama onscreen would at least be able to distract him enough to loosen up a little.

Cass and Conner had saved them two seats near the edge, and she sidled in next to her girlfriend (for moral support) while Tim took the one closest to the aisle.  He kept glimpsing tensely around though, still just as jumpy as before.

“Hey, chill out a bit, will ya?  What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he muttered. “It’s just, in my experience, this is usually the part where the place catches fire, or some punks try to rob the box office, or…”

She stared at him, shaking her head.

“You fret too much.  Just try to relax and enjoy, okay?  Here, have some popcorn.”

He passed on the salted kernels though, and she pouted as she popped one in her mouth, chewing over whether she’d made the right decision after all. He looked almost claustrophobic, stressed.  In distress.

Things didn’t improve much as the motion picture started to play.  The first feature presentation in the lineup was indeed Frankenstein, and although Tim managed to remain relatively calm enough throughout the monochrome, monotone introduction, he started to stiffen at the famous “awakening” sequence.

“Quite a good scene, isn’t it? One man crazy, three very sane spectators.”

Out of the crook of her eye, Steph sensed her companion cringe every time there was a thunderclap, as lights flashed and machinery sparked with mounting electricity, while the movie madman merrily turned the wheel to “adjust the batteries”.  Together, he and his assistant unrolled the cloth covering the table to expose a humanlike form strapped to it, albeit with limbs limp and lifeless.  Tim’s claw clutched at his armrest as the stretcher was gradually lifted up through a hole in the ceiling towards the stormy sky, where pulses of galvanizing lightning presumably struck the subject repeatedly.

Stephanie divided concentration back and forth between the increasingly agitated boy beside her and the big screen in growing alarm as his breathing accelerated, gasping and wheezing audibly as he bent forward and put his hyperventilating head between his knees.  Cass and Conner were casting concerned looks as well, while other annoyed audience members revolved around and shushed to keep it down.  As her attention was arrested by the scientist maniacally screaming “It’s alive!” over and over again, she turned back one last time to ask if Tim was all right in a worried whisper – but there was no answer.

Tim was gone.

————————–

Oh Lord, whatever did I say? Whatever made me think that this was all okay? No one held me to the flame The hell if I could take the dark from my face

[punkpoemprose]

The Love Talker- Chapter 4

Universe: Gancanagh/ Fae AU Rating: T (currently, expect M in time) Length: 1636

A/N: Same warnings. This is a dark fic. There’s light spots, it’s going to be mostly fluffy and good towards the ends, but the AU that this is requires a bit of darkness. Apologies! Also, this is unedited. Of course. I am me. So sorry for any messiness.

[Previous Chapter]

[Next Chapter]

[Master Post]

She’d awoken draped with a blanket. A note was on the floor at her side, hastily written in rough script.

Anna,

You’re safe here. I’ll return this evening to make good on our agreement. There is food here, you may have some. Sven is in the stable, you may spend time with him if you like.

She huffed. It was unsigned. He still had more power over her than she had over him, and as such she thought it was perhaps unwise to bolt off and leave the place. He’d proven kind thus far, if not a bit tricky, but she didn’t know that directly disobeying him was a good plan for her wellbeing. She already had one man trying to kill her, she thought that it would be by and far her worst decision of all time to make it two.

She reread the note, lifting it off the floor to see that below it were her somewhat dirty, but in tact slippers. That at least was clear cut enough to be something she could accept openly, and she was grateful for their return.

As for the note, she wasn’t sure if faeries could lie in writing. She knew that they couldn’t speak lies, but she wasn’t about to take the chance on the food. Maybe the name curse was something she could escape, but eating faerie food was surely as poor of a plan today as it was yesterday. She thought that maybe once she’d heard something about it being dangerous to not accept fae hospitality, but the laws were a mass of contradictions and it was better to go with what she knew for sure, and he had seemed amused before by her knowledge of the rules, so perhaps that would be enough to save her here as well.

If not, better to have the gancanagh against her armed with a single weapon than have herself totally trapped by two. Maybe she could change her name?

She did take the letter up on it’s second offer and set out to see the reindeer. She was somewhat certain that it, at least, had no intentions of hurting her. The creature had been very gentle with her the day before, its fur keeping her warm as she rode on its back on their ascent up the mountain.

After the visit she intended to do some cleaning of the small cabin he’d taken her to. She wasn’t sure if that would be seen as a kindness or a criticism, but again the fae had seemed amenable enough to her conversation, so if she explained that it was an act completed out of appreciation, he might just be pleased with her. She wasn’t sure if he’d be pleased enough to let her go, but she would take what she could get.

                                                        ***

He’d stayed out as long as he possibly could before knowing that she would be asleep when he returned. It had been intentional. He’d just been a short ways off, watching animals, smoking his pipe, doing what he fancied to keep himself away from her. She was too much of a temptation to stay around for any period of time, especially when she was awake. He wasn’t a beast. He should be by all accounts, but he wasn’t. She’d have to show some interest in him before he’d do anything to her, and she couldn’t show interest when she was asleep.

He couldn’t lie to her. He’d promised to come back in the evening. He just hoped that it would be as simple as arriving, asking her to stay in the cabin until her fiancé was dead, giving her his name and then taking off again. Nothing had ever really been “easy” for him though, not in a very long time.

Anna didn’t seem to want to make things easier for him either. When he walked into the cabin she was on his floor on her knees scrubbing at the boards with a rag and some water. He hadn’t really been sure of what to expect when he walked through the door but that hadn’t been it. He’d seen her home when he’d left town, it was much larger than the others in the village, and so he had assumed that she had all her housework done by some sort of serving staff. She had a proud air about her, but not in a pretentious way. He realized now that such a manner came from her belief in herself and in her abilities, which he found attractive, about as attractive as he found her on her hands and knees.

He cleared his throat, and scared her unintentionally. He watched her jump, knocking the bucket of water she’d been using splash across his floor as she did so.

When she looked at him and looked at the pail she looked horrified. He realized, with no small amount of disappointment, that she was still afraid of him. He’d really given her no reason not to be, and while it hurt to see her fear, he thought that perhaps it was for the best.

If she was afraid of him she’d stay away. If she kept herself at a distance he couldn’t touch her.

This thought conflicted with his actions. She was afraid and water was soaking into her thin dress, and he couldn’t help but to reach out to right the pail.

She all but skittered across the floor to get away from him, and he took three steps back at her reaction.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I-”

He interrupted her with his own apology, “Anna I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”  

He was shocked when she laughed. It was a bit nervous and a bit relieved at the same time. He looked at her expression and relaxed somewhat. She looked less terrified and more tired. He’d forgotten how late it was, he’d forgotten that she’d stayed up waiting for him.

He smiled in return and took a slow step back towards the bucket, putting his hands in front of him cautiously, making sure she could see them as he approached the mess. He righted the bucket as she moved back towards him with the rag in hand to begin mopping up the water.

“It’s okay,” she said, “You didn’t mean…”

He nodded, “You don’t have to clean that up it’s…”

She shook her head, “No, I should have been more careful…”

He sighed, “No. I don’t want you to have to be careful here.”

It wasn’t exactly what he wanted to say to her, because while it was true, he didn’t want her to be afraid in a place he’d promised her she’d be safe, he did want her to be careful with him. He wouldn’t try to touch her. He knew what he was, and while it certainly had come in handy very, very recently, he’d spent more years than he’d like to admit doing his best to not give in to that nature, but he still didn’t trust himself totally. He also couldn’t say “you don’t have to be careful here” because that would be a lie, because he might still screw up phenomenally, especially if she even slightly wanted him to get close to her.

                                                         ***

Anna was scared, but not so much as she knew she should be. He looked as nervous as she felt, which was strange as in all the fae in the stories she’d been told, especially the tales about gancanagh, they had been so self-assured. She did appreciate that he was keeping his distance for the most part, and she got the distinct impression that he didn’t want to touch her.

“You’re not going to touch me, are you?”

He looked at her like she had said something that he wasn’t sure how to answer. She figured that it was a fairly simple question, but then again nothing about their predicament was simple or easy. She’d been running from a man who intended to kill her, and straight into the presence of another who could do the same. The fact that he hadn’t entirely trapped her yet spoke to something reassuring though. He could have had her in any way he wanted, but he hadn’t. She wasn’t sure why, and she was secretly somewhat offended. She figured that she was at least pretty enough to be tempting, but it wasn’t something she was going to dwell on.

He sighed and she awaited his response anxiously, sopping cloth in hand, dripping on the floor once more and on the edge of her skirt.

“I can’t promise you I won’t touch you Anna.”

His words were terrifying but expected. If she hadn’t been able to go against her trusting nature, she could hardly expect him to go against his nature so entirely either.

“I can promise,” he added, her attention still entirely focused upon him, “that I won’t touch you skin to skin intentionally without your consent.”

She could trust him at his word, especially when he’d spent the time to so carefully word it. The loopholes was obvious. He might touch her in ways that wouldn’t addict her purposefully, and he might accidentally touch her in a way that would addict her to him. That was fair enough. The final bit though was the most concerning, because there was a part of her that still liked the idea of giving him the go ahead.

He was attractive and kind enough to be appealing to her without any fae addiction magic. She wondered if it was because of what he was, or if it was because of who he was. The difference wouldn’t mean much to most, but it did to her.

“Will you fulfill your other promise?” she asked, feeling bold.

He smiled then, “My name?”

“Yes, please.”

“Kristoff.”

[hereticpriest]

Amplify Chapter 4

Keiko didn’t get to stay with Iida, Shouto and Midoriya. Endeavor took her home, after giving her a short speech about how proud he was of her for controlling herself and only using her quirk to save people despite the temptation to intervene. It wasn’t often that Endeavor said he was proud of anyone, and Keiko not-so-subtly reminded him that he could perhaps tell Shouto as well. The grunt she got in answer was exactly what she was expecting, but it didn���t dim her hopes.

After her best friend healed, he returned to them, and Keiko was subjected to him antagonizing his father relentlessly over the victory attributed to him. Sometimes she felt like a third wheel to their arguments, and she wished she could just go on patrol with Endeavor’s sidekicks. Instead, she was subjected to quirk training that made her body feel like it was hit by a train, constant quizzing about hero laws from Kido and Onima, and headache-inducing bickering between the father and son duo. Burnin rescued her one day for patrols, but she was a hothead, so Keiko ended up continuing her role as the mediating figure whenever anyone else was involved.

She had to admit, however, that she learned a lot. She also got a firm measurement on exactly how much thermal energy she could contain before a discharge was necessary. Endeavor even had his support team draw up some plans and fabric recommendations for a suit that would be better suited to protecting her from flames since she could absorb the energy, but could still be burned in the process if she wasn’t careful. Her favourite part of the entire internship, though, was that she got to spend the whole time living with the Todoroki family. Seeing Fuyumi and Natsuo was good for her soul, and she was willing to overlook Enji’s apparent fixation on eventually marrying her to his son whenever he was present. She even got to visit Rei with Shouto one day. Her polaroid camera came in handy that day, as the trio took a walk on the hospital grounds and had a picnic outside. Rei ended up with tons of photos for her room, and Shouto had plenty as well.

Going back to school after a week of working in the hero world was a bit of a bummer, especially since her internship went quite well. Most of the class seemed to feel the same, but she noticed when she spoke to Momo that her internship was a bit of a disappointment. Mineta seemed thrilled to be back from his internship with Mount Lady, where he was apparently used as a housekeeper. Served him right. Bakugo’s experience was a bit of a surprise, however. As was his lovely hairdo.

“It’s so straight! It looks so soft too.” Keiko teased, playfully brushing her fingers through the white-blond strands only to have her wrists grabbed to stop her. Keiko pouted, wiggling to try and get her hands free so she could get grabby again. Her pout only got worse when Kirishima and Kaminari teased the blond into puffing his hair out again.

“Awww, guys you ruined it!” Keiko whined, nearly collapsing into Mina’s open arms. That drew a laugh from the pink-skinned girl, who fanned the overdramatic girl while she feigned fainting. The girls giggled together, only growing louder when Katsuki shouted at them to shut up.

Homeroom dulled everyone’s spirits, as their final exam was coming up fast. Keiko, who had spent much of her free time training or studying, wasn’t really that worried. Obviously the practical exam posed a risk, but she knew she’d ace the written exam. She declined everyone’s offers to study, even Kirishima and Bakugo’s. Instead, she planned to get together at her place with Shouto. Giving him an out from his place was always a good thing, and it meant her house felt a little less lonely. That was only helped when he arrived at her door with two kittens in his arms. One was a long-haired ginger with three black paws, while the other was pure black with folded ears and medium length fur. Keiko melted on sight, taking them both into her arms and giving them each a kiss, then putting the sleepy things into the pocket on the front of her hoodie.

“Where did you get these guys?” Keiko asked, walking into her apartment to find a box and a blanket to make a bed for them. Shouto shrugged.

“Neighbour’s cat had kittens. I know you’ve been wanting to get cats. You can’t be alone all the time in this place.” The two-toned man replied, “I can help you pick stuff up for them.”

“Thank you Sho. You’re the best friend I could ever have.” Keiko hummed, scrunching up a blanket in one of the old boxes she’d kept from moving, then depositing the sleepy kittens into it. She put the box by the couch so they could get settled, then moved in to steal a hug. Shouto rolled his eyes but allowed it, a hand on her lower back while the other remained in his pocket. Two hours later, they had picked up toys, food, litter boxes, treats, a cat tree, and a couple of scratching posts. Keiko got the apartment set up while Shouto started studying, and once she was done, Keiko began to get dinner ready while Shouto quizzed her from the couch. Both of the kittens loved to lay on Shouto, specifically his fire side, absorbing that ever-present warmth. They ate dinner in the living room, sat under the kotatsu that Keiko had refused to live without. Like Shouto, she tended towards having a rather traditional style of decor, further evidenced by her tatami flooring, floor cushions and low style sofa and chairs. She even had shoji screens to separate rooms in the open floor plan of her apartment. It certainly made her apartment feel larger.

Keiko named the male ginger kitten Rin, and the female black kitten Suzu. Shouto ended up staying quite late, curled up on her couch together to watch movies while the kittens dozed. Keiko figured that the only reason Endeavor hadn’t called to complain about Shouto being away was that he wanted them to get married. Sometimes, she was fairly sure that Endeavor forgot that women weren’t just baby machines.

The day of their final exams, Keiko was admittedly stressed out. They learned that they would be fighting their teachers in their practical exam, and none of the teachers felt like a particularly fun fight to her. Sure, she would definitely have a quirk advantage against some of them, but she was paired up against Present Mic with Jirou and Koda, and she knew that it would be difficult. Mic’s quirk didn’t provide an energy type that she could absorb, and she was paired with two sound-quirk users who wouldn’t be able to use their quirks effectively either. In the beginning of the match, they needed to use their heads. Mic’s voice was ear-piercing even at a distance, and she knew they’d all be suffering big time in a short amount of time.

“I need you guys to hit me. Hard.” Keiko requested. Jirou immediately complied with a wild grin, slapping her across the face so hard that Keiko knew anyone else (except perhaps Kirishima) would have ringing in their ears. In her case, it was a fantastic boost to her energy.

“Good?”

“Hell yeah! Again!” 

Another slap, followed by a gut punch and a kick to the side. Koda panicked as he watched them; Jirou hitting their classmate relentlessly while Keiko looked like she was getting high off of it. A wild grin on her face, Keiko bumped her fist against Jirou’s, then Koda’s.

“Alright guys. I can’t hit Mic from afar since he’s pretty fast, but I can distract the hell out of him. What have we got?” Keiko asked. Another burst from Mic had Keiko mashing her ears with both palms to try and block out the sound. Once he stopped, Jirou rattled off a pretty good explanation for why they couldn’t go right at him, but she came up with the plan to get Koda to use bugs. Koda wasn’t keen on the idea, but Keiko trusted he would overcome his fears. Another shriek made Keiko shrink down to the ground and contemplate shoving moss in her ears. By the time the screaming stopped, Jirou’s ears were bleeding and Keiko was sure hers were as well. She offered to run distraction, giving them time to get the bugs ready to go and also to avoid more damage to Jirou and Koda’s ears. He needed to speak to the bugs to get them to help, which was difficult with Present Mic screeching like a banshee.

“Hey, Mic! Have you ever heard the one about the stuttering DJ? He really likes to d-d-dddd-ddd-ddrop the bass!” Keiko shouted as she headed towards the gate. Mic’s answering laugh was another couple of seconds he wasn’t screeching.

“Good joke, Mochizuki, but did you really come out here with telling jokes as your plan?”

“Yeah, why not, right? Hey Mic, what do police officers and DJs have in common? They both tell drunk people to put their hands up!” Keiko giggled at her own joke, unable to help herself. Mic laughed along with her, but she knew he was smart and was analyzing the area around him. He sucked in a breath after a second to shout, and Keiko used an energized burst to run around the clearing so that he wasn’t aiming towards her classmates, then aimed at him and focused. Instead of her usual larger blast, she managed two concentrated shots that forced him to dodge.

“HEY LISTENERS! COME OUT!” Mic shouted, knocking Keiko on her ass rather easily. Keiko felt  blood coating her neck just under her ears, but she saw the ground bend upwards next to Mic’s foot and relief flooded her. Bugs began to crawl up Mic’s leg, and he squealed like a wild animal, eyes rolling back in his head. She was fairly sure he fainted, even. Koda carried Jirou out of the forest at Keiko’s signal that Mic was down, and they all headed out through the gate. Unsurprisingly, Keiko got a lecture from Aizawa about using herself as cannon fodder, but was pleased with them for being able to work as a unit against a quirk ill-suited to them. A quick visit to Recovery Girl had them all fixed up, and they were able to watch the other battles again, but watching Izuku and Katsuki fight All Might was painful so Keiko decided to sit with Shouto to warm up against his fire side.

The news that even those who failed will be able to attend the summer training camp, though with extra lessons, cheered up those of the class that were bummed out about their failures. The class planned a shopping trip when Aizawa gave them free time before the end of class, since some of them needed to pick up necessities for the summer. That was interrupted when Nezu knocked and opened the door with All Might, both looking grim. 

“Eraser, we need to speak with Miss Mochizuki and yourself, if you don’t mind.” Nezu hummed pleasantly, fooling no one. Keiko felt her stomach drop out, and her chest got tight.

“Fine. Class, you’re excused.” Aizawa waved the class off, and the three pro heroes watched the class disembark. Keiko stayed in her seat, looking decidedly unsure as she received worried stares from her classmates. Shouto shook his phone at her to indicate for her to call him, and Katsuki stared at her as he left the classroom, his hands clenched into fists. Once they were gone, All Might placed an overly gentle hand on her shoulder as Nezu sat on the desk in front of hers.

“Miss Mochizuki-”

“Please call me Keiko, Principal Nezu. I don’t like going by my last name.” Keiko murmured, unsure.

“Of course. Keiko, we just received word from the police. Geonosis prison had a breakout yesterday, and they just got the final headcount on escaped villains. Kikuchi Bassui was among the villains to escape.” Nezu explained quietly, watching as Keiko’s normally flush and healthy skin went white.

[sleepyfan-blog]

aa, could we get some more es!ibvs nedwarvin pls? (on pc now so hopefully you see this?? qAq)

I got your ask! :D)

ES!IBVS is by @onebizarrekai

characters and pairing: Nevin Jovel, Edward Quinton, Nedwarvin

warnings: none

Summary: Edward gives a skeptical Nevin a popsicle. 

set in the same verse as this.

@anxiety-is-married-to-depression @angelofthehalfmoon @trainwreck-of-skeletons @hisame-amadashi​ @therandomskelekey @capisnotonfire

“So you’re saying that this won’t bother my stomach?” Nevin asked skeptically as he stared at the bright blue popsicle that Edward was holding out for him to take. Ever since that night a lot of things had changed for him, and his ability to eat much of anything had vanished. Which was annoying as hell for more than a couple of reasons… But Drew had, somehow, found out about his iron deficiency issues, and had offered to give him blood when he needed it. Nevin had reluctantly accepted, and had only taken blood from his brother twice since the other had found out a couple of months ago, the weekly hunting trips with Ed and his family helping to fill him up.

“Yes, I promise. I wouldn’t have gotten you something that you can’t eat, I promise, babe.” Edward responded earnestly, nodding a little. “I got it from one of the markets where you gotta know the right people and this is safe for both of us to eat! I had to hide this in the back of the freezer, or Geno would have eaten them all. He loves these.”

Nevin knew that his boyfriend was referring to one of the magical stores that Error and his family occasionally visited. But he hadn’t seen or at least visited any of them, as the werewolf family was unsure as to how others might take a newly-turned vampire who had no idea who he was bound to was. Apparently fledgling vampires could be incredibly unpredictable, although Nevin suspected that might be due to the fact that they were hungry and couldn’t figure out what to slake their thirst until they lost control and their base instincts took over. “Alright, I’ll try it.” He sighed, taking the popsicle and taking a cautious lick. It had a blue raspberry flavor, along with blood. Which was surprisingly good “I… Holy shit how is this possible?” He demanded as he took several more licks before giving into the temptation to take a small bite off of the top of the popsicle. Nevin wanted to savor this as much as he could.

Error shrugged a little bit as he answered “I dunno - they are magically delicious, though.” Error continued to eat his own popsicle - which was a vibrant green color.

Nightmare stared at the other’s popsicle, a low whine in his throat “I… I want to try what yours tastes like, Ed…” He hadn’t figured out how to tell his boyfriend that his brother was aware that he wasn’t human anymore. Not that he’d told Drew that Edward was also a magical being, as he wouldn’t reveal Error’s secret without being given express permission first.

The self-proclaimed school king grinned at that, taking one long, lazy lick of his bright green popsicle before leaning downwards and pressing a kiss to Nevin’s lips. The other lightly flicked his tongue across the seam of Nightmare’s lips before he backed away, grinning. “There, now you have.”

“I.. W-What?” The young vampire responded distractedly, realizing that there was something cool lingering on his lips before he licked it up - the flavor of lime and copper now on his tongue. “Th-That’s not what I meant…” He sputtered, feeling himself blush darkly.

“You… You didn’t mind, did you? Or… Did I go a bit far?” Edward responded, a look of concern flashing across his face.

“N-Not at all! I like sharing popsicle flavors with you like that. It just… Caught me off guard, as I’ve never done that.” Nevin responded, rallying after a moment, though he could still feel himself blushing.  A thought occurred to him and he grinned mischievously before saying with a flirty wink “It’s a pity you were only able to save two of these… I really would have liked to try all of these flavors with you like that.” That… That’s how you flirted with someone, right? Nevin hoped he was doing this correctly - Edward was the first person he’s ever dated.

A bright blush appears on Edward’s face, but the other grins eagerly after a moment “That sounds like a lot of fun. I can see if I have enough to get a box of them the next time that we head to that store.”

Nevin grinned and nodded “I would be happy to give you some money to help pay for it… Or make things or whatever it is that place accepts in exchange for their goods.” Nightmare knew that money wasn’t always the currency that was spent in such places - at least according to Edward and his family, who he had no reason to doubt.

“Ehh, help me hunt down some of those rabbits we found last week, and we’ll be even. You also have a good eye for finding special plants that trade for a surprising amount, according to Janet.” Edward responded with a light wave of his hand.

Nightmare nodded, and the two of them continued to walk through the park, holding hands and eating their popsicles, enjoying the warm summer day together.

[movedyourchair505]

Napule Nights - ventuno

This is a bit of a shameless excuse to focus on Mr. Miles Kane, but I promise the next chapter is one I have been planning since I started writing this story and it will be worth this little filler. Thanks to Elana again for helping me!! xx

- chapter navigation -

x

In opposition to what Jade had hoped for, a security guard unknown to her came to her suite the next day, informed her that she would be meeting Serena, not Turner, to discuss business, plan another job he'd set up for her and while she couldn't hide her disappointment, she was glad that at least she'd be preoccupied.

The slight buzz of booze and lust had worn off, and she was slowly but gradually growing more and more aware of Turner's shift in behaviour, how he'd made sure that she was okay back at the meeting, how he'd given her instantly what she wanted and kept his teasing to a minimum, had made sure she felt good beyond his own pleasure, had praised her for doing a good job.

She followed the henchman to Serena's office, was then led inside and to her disappointment spent several hours discussing a job she would have to do the next day and while it was nowhere near as risky as anything she'd done before, it required a lot more background knowledge about the business and the plans, insight she knew she only deserved now after proving to Turner that she was not entirely useless when it came to working for him and she tried to pay as close attention as she could while simultaneously trying to push the recollection of the previous night to the back of her mind, trying her hardest to stay professional and not give into the temptation of thinking about Turner's hands on her, knowing she would get too worked up too quickly and she didn't know how long she would be in the company of others.

Confident that she'd be able to do the job successfully if she remembered everything, she left the office and was brought right back to her suite, left on her own before she could even ask about Turner, or if he wanted to see her and after she'd eaten and been given more paperwork to go through, she doubted it would even happen and the more time passed, the more convinced she grew that Turner regretted his actions, was purposely avoiding her but she tried to tell herself that he was just busy, that he had other obligations, that she would see him the next day but it pained her to think about all the progress being diminished, of the distance and the time making it all seem unreal, and that they would be back to where they were before.

The description of the following job had left no room for Turner's presence and she was brought to the location of the meeting by the same security man from the previous day as soon as she'd gotten ready, followed the plan all the way down to its every detail, all the while secretly hoping that if she wouldn't get to see Turner, he at least would hear that she'd done a good job. For a moment she even toyed with the idea of making a mistake purposely, knowing she would have to justify herself.

But ultimately, she knew that that would only make things worse in terms of his attitude towards her because she had his trust now and she knew better than to ruin it again and the day passed without so much as a mention of his name by his security and Serena when she briefly met her after, once again too short and too focused on the job to even ask about Turner and by the end of it, she was not only frustrated that she hadn't seen him, but also physically ached to just see his face, see that smug half-smile, feel his hands on her, her body didn't hurt as much anymore as it had the day before, she needed more, it was always like he'd never touched her but the memory was vivid, she couldn't have made the incredible pleasure he'd made her feel up if she tried. She would never forget the way he made use of his every movement to make sure she would remember him, remember where he'd been, where he'd marked and played with her, seeking to dominate her completely.

She dragged out her shower in the evening longer than necessary, touched and fucked herself on her favourite toy until she could no longer think straight, her desperate moans echoing off the walls, indulging in the delicious memories of Turner fucking her into that state of bliss she was now chasing, blurring them with hopeful fantasies but nothing could come close to the way he handled her body, no toy stretched her as roughly, no orgasm she evoked in herself was a match to the mess he reduced her to, held her down and took her mercilessly.

When she stepped out of the bathroom, surrounded by a blissful scent of her rich body lotion and wrapped up in only the silk gown – one of the few things in the suite she'd grown to love – removing  her towel from her head to let her hair fall down her back, seeking to put on a soft set of lingerie to sleep in and maybe continue soothing her desperate desire for now, the blur of her delight's afterglow was interrupted by the deep sound of someone clearing their throat, making her freeze in her step, the heavy smell of sweet cologne lingering.

On the edge of the end of her bed, one leg resting on the other, one arm propped on the silk sheets sat Kane, shiny merlot suit, fresh tan, scratching at the stubble on his chin, regarding her inquisitively. “Evenin', bella” he drawled, pushing himself forward and adjusting his sitting position, elbows resting on his knees, folding his heavily jeweled hands.

She swallowed hard, the nonchalant expression on his face, how confidently he conducted himself despite the situation fuelling her to not show any trace of discomfort or surprise. It was more his casual demeanor with which he carried himself that irritated her than anything else that made her not want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her thrown off.

“Well, fook” he continued. “Natural fookin' beauteh, aren't you?”

She raised her eyebrows at him, crossing her arms in front of her chest, her breasts threatening to spill over the loose tie of the robe. “Kane, what are you doing here?”

He licked his lips. “You're comin' out wif meh” he declared with a shrug of his shoulders. “And you'll wear this.”

Her eyes followed the nod of his head, gesturing to a dress spread out beside him on the bed and she tilted her head to side. “That's a work dress.”

Miles shrugged, looking back at her, patient, unimpressed, held her gaze until she relaxed her shoulders and stepped forward to pick up the dress, the white white fabric sheer, see-through everywhere except her bust and crotch, completely backless and held together only with a series of thin diamanté straps, a large slit at the side of her thigh that with like any pole-dancing dress allowed the right amount of space to move while also leaving up just the tiniest bit of her body up to imagination. The neckline was low, the dress tight and suggestive.

“Be right back” she stated before retreating to the bathroom after picking up a thong from her drawer, leaving the door ajar when he already spoke again. “Got quite a collection in tha' drawer there, dun't you?”

She rolled her eyes, scolding herself mentally for being surprised because if he'd gone through her work dresses, he'd also gone through the other stuff. It wasn't like she'd expected any privacy anyway, she was positive that every day when the suite was empty, someone did a security sweep, so this was really no different.

“Are men so dissatisfactoreh teh you?”

She smiled to herself, pulling on the dress and adjusting it on the curves of her body before she began to brush her hair. “For the most part.”

A low chuckle was audible from the other room, a shift on the bed. “Were gunna go eat at one of Al's restaurants, you're 'ungreh, reyht?”

“Sounds good” she called back, stepping close to the mirror and beginning to take care of her skin before starting on her make up. “I'll be ready in a few minutes.”

She heard a huff from him, then he spoke before she could question his reaction. “Never fail teh amaze meh, do you?”

She lined her lips, applied powers to all the right places. “Scusi?”

“Are you sayin' tha' all of … you just 'appens?”

Jade laughed, sprayed her face and combed her hair to fall straight down her back, then stepped out, taking immense pleasure in the way Kane's indifferent expression morphed into one of utter fascination, but refused to let it show, reveling in the feeling while walking to her close and pulling out a fur shawl and pulling it on, effortlessly transforming the suggestive work dress into a tasteful evening look. She was now secretly hoping that she would see Turner, that this was the nature of Kane's visit and she quickly glamourized her look with a rose gold necklace and several rings.

“Now weh match, bella” Kane announced, pointing to her, then his own look, his white shirt matching her dress, the fur the colour of his suit.

“Don't get too excited” she said as she picked up her small bag and walked past him, her heels clicking on the floor and she pushed the door open, holding it out for them, smiling to herself when Miles jumped to his feet and crossed the room, holding his arm out for her.

The way to the restaurant took only slightly longer than it would have to the club and Jade tried to memorize the way but before she knew it, they were sat at “Al's usual table”, located right by the window, the second floor of the building hovering right over the ocean by the harbour, the two security guards Kane had taken to the car with them close by. The chairs and tables were dark wood, the music soft and mellow and the inside of the restaurant bright, tiny lights all over illuminating the room in contrast to the dark skies outside, the crescent moon reflecting in the water below the horizon.

Kane waved a waiter over instantly, not bothering even picking up his menu. “Two of me usual, yeh?”

Jade held back a comment, deciding to just go with whatever he was doing, she had enough money, she wasn't a picky eater, but before Miles could patronise her meal order, she opened the menu, flicking through it.

“It's on me, by the weh, get anehfin' you want, bella...” He chimed in, interrupting her studying of the menu and he smirked when she looked up, giving her a wink. “Wha' a proper vero gentiluomo does on a date.”  

She raised an eyebrow at him. “This is not a date, Kane.”

Miles chuckled, giving a slight shake of his head, looking out at the view and scratching at his chin. “Nah, tha'd beh too easy, innit? Not wha' you're after...”

She licked her lips, too curious to deny him the satisfaction of asking. “What do you mean?”

“Datin' meh” he responded, looking back at her. “Would beh too easeh for you. Wouldn't beh after Al if you wanted easeh.”

“Well, you know all about that, don't you?”

The glint of playfulness in his eyes turned into amusement and he leaned back in his chair, giving a chuckle. “Reyht...” he said.

Jade shut her menu and put it down abruptly, waving to the waiter herself now. “I'd like the Bay Eel” she announced, repeating the name of the dish she'd found at the far end of the menu which was not coincidentally the most expensive as well.

Miles sucked in a breath, but chuckled, gave her a look of approval, smug and as if tipping his hat to her. “And I'll 'ave the lobster frittata, per favore. And would you 'urreh wif our drinks?”

“Yes, Mr. Kane, they will be with you in just a moment” the waiter assured him before excusing himself.

Miles gave a nod, then focused his full attention back on Jade. “I 'eard ya did a good job today” he said, leaning forward over the table with his elbow resting on the top.

She raised her eyebrows at him. “Cut the crap, Kane” she sighed.

“Wha'?” He asked, tilting his head to the side and looking back at her, confused. “Wha' do you mean, bella?”

“Oh, please. You're not telling me you don't have ulterior motives. What could have possibly made you decide to spend the evening with me instead of Turner?”

Miles blinked a few times, staring back at her. “Well, Al's in San Marino.”

Her eyes widened, her posture faltering and she couldn't conceal her surprise this time. “He's away?”

Kane nodded, shrugging matter-of-factly. “Joost for a few days” he said.

“What's in San Marino?” She asked, unable to keep her curiosity to herself now.

“Business” he responded. “He's … oh, alreyht!” He called, interrupting himself when the waiter brought their drinks, placing a colourful cocktail in front of them each. “Let's 'ave it.” He picked up his cocktail and lifted the glass over the table.

Jade lifted her own glass and turned it to figure out its contents. “What's this?” She questioned.

“It's a Candeh Kane” Miles smirked proudly.

She stared back at him blankly, inhaling slowly. “Candy Kane?” She repeated in monotone, but it didn't wipe the excitement of the boyish face staring right back at her.

“Cin cin, bella!”

She caved and let out a breath, moving her glass to meet his and staring back into his eyes before taking a sip, grimacing instantly. “That is...” She swallowed hard. “A very fitting name.”

Miles grinned, raking his fingers through his short hair. “So” he drawled. “D'ya ever dance for meh?”

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Well, have you ever been to my club?” She asked.

“All the fookin' time” he said, an expression of exaggerated offense spreading across his face. “Lana's me favourite.”

Jade couldn't help but smile, nodding. “Yeah, she's lovely” she said, once again realising that she had been too worried about going out publicly to see her friends at the club.

“Sheh makes sum bloodeh good cappuccino as well.”

She laughed, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Wha'?” He smirked.

“Seems everyone in this city has either slept with you or would like to.”

Kane cackled, adjusting the gold watch around his wrist as he held her gaze. “Is tha' wha' me reputation is?”

“Well” she said. “That and the stories about you and Turner.”

He waved it off, shaking his head. “Well, weh've been over tha', 'aven't weh?” He asked, discarding the topic before Jade could even respond. “Fookin' shocker 'bout Vittorio, weren't it?”

Jade tensed slightly, realising that Turner must have told him about their conversation in the car but deciding instantly she had to be sure before she would share. “What do you mean?”

Kane shrugged. “Well, 'e won't beh out of the 'ospital anehtime soon” he said absently, looking out at the ocean again. “Were a louseh shag anehweh.”

Her eyes grew wider at his words, glad he hadn't noticed her surprise and she took a sip of the awful cocktail to hide her reaction. She was unsure now if he'd meant to share new information with her, or if he'd assumed she already knew but then again, she was allowing herself to jump to conclusions, there might not have been a connection and she was too prideful to ask in case she was wrong, trying desperately to change the subject herself now, relieved when their food arrived and she dug right in to avoid any more conversation until his mind would have drifted as well.

The restaurant had become more busy, she could sense a view heads turning to watch them, certain that no matter who people were looking at, it was because of their association with Turner, but she tried to not allow herself too much speculation once again, instead focusing on the spectacular view, the rich flavour of the food, finishing the cocktail dutifully before calling the waiter over again, ordering a glass of cognac.

“You not put off yet?” Kane asked, swallowing and licking his lips, his shiny eyes fixating on her face once again.

“Put off by what exactly?” She questioned.

He shrugged. “This fing you've gotten pulled inteh. Can beh intimidatin', reyht?”

She leaned back. “What do you actually know about me, Kane?”

A smirk played around the corners of his mouth and he shoved in some more food, wiggling his eyebrows at her. “More than you fink, bella. And anehfin' I dunno I can easileh find out.”

“Or you could ask me” she shrugged, welcoming her drink when the waiter brought it over and taking a big sip. “I'm not a huge fan of rumours.”

He cackled, shaking his head. “Reyht” he drawled. “Is Al satisfyin' ya then?”

She blinked, parting her lips, then blinking again, pondering with a good response. “Scusi?”

“Well, 's not too late teh jump on the Kane train, bella.”

Jade huffed, couldn't suppress a small laugh, shaking her head at him again. “Has that line ever worked?”

He rolled his eyes. “I'm not tryin' teh get in your pantehs, luv. Joost tryin' teh 'ave gal talk wif ya.”

“Well, Kane” she said, licking her lips as she swallowed the last of her food, intrigued as she leaned closer to him over the table. “Why don't you tell me about the last time you were satisfied?”

[connorssock]

To Hear You Smile

Making dumb decision was a right of passage growing up. And it was something that Gavin took to the extremes. He was young, angry and stupid, wanting any kind of relief from life in general. Temporary solace came in the form of Red Ice. It blurred the pain of a broken family, of not meeting expectations at school, of being repeatedly told he will amount to nothing. At least when he was high, none of those mattered.

Of course, it was only a short term relief, all too soon money problems caught up with him, he was kicked out of his family home and Gavin wondered the streets aimlessly. Cold nights under bridges or huddled in doorways weren’t his idea of a good time and even being high wasn’t enough to chase away the pangs of hunger. There wasn’t much left in the world for him, he’d wasted his potential and now nobody would even throw him a stick to help keep afloat. In a black spiral, the only thing that made sense was to go out with a bang, one final high so great, he’d slip from the world with a smile on his face at least.

Pooling all his money into buying as much Red Ice as he could, he found a quiet alley and got comfortable. He sighed as the drugs flooded his system and let himself drift.

His plan didn’t include waking up in hospital, with a multitude of wires and tubes surrounding him. But that was where he’d found himself, with a couple of very sympathetic nurses. Gavin couldn’t tell them why he’d done it, not without the worry of being locked up or, even worse, being sent back home. And he definitely didn’t want the pitying looks people would send his way. Despite it all, he still got them when nobody showed up at visiting hours, even after his family had been notified.

Medical professionals tutted over him, gave him a rundown of just how much he’d fucked himself over. There was something about blood pressure, intracranial pressure complications and lifelong management - there was something about avoiding all manner of caffeine in there. In all honesty, Gavin didn’t pay much attention to it, he didn’t feel like he’d have to worry about things like that for too long. As soon as he was out, he was only going to do it again because there was no way he could repay the hospital bills. He hadn’t asked to be saved anyway.

At least, that had been his plan. But one of the orderlies, an utterly no nonsense woman took one look at him and decided that he was worth her effort. She knew when he was due to be discharged, blood pressure pills prescribed at such a tender age and with no hope of ever coming off them. Whatever she saw in him, he was grateful to her years later.

She’d helped him get a job as a welder’s apprentice. It didn’t pay much but his boss let him sleep in the back office until he found his feet. All in all, it was a pretty sweet deal, the couch was a pullout bed, there was a small kitchen area for employees to use at lunchtime which he used in the evenings to boil noodles. And each day, his boss’ wife would send him a packed lunch to brighten his day.

Years sped by and by the time Gavin was 30 he was assistant manager. By 35 he was co-owner of the small firm and once his boss retired, it would become his. Things were so much better than he could imagine. While he wasn’t the most popular guy around, he was respected and acknowledged as pretty damn decent at his job.

Sometimes he wondered whether he was a little bit of an outcast because he didn’t huddle over a mug of coffee each morning - not even a decaf one. Since his time in the hospital, he’d read up on what he could about how badly he’d fucked up. And he swore to never put his body through something like that again. Getting clean once had been difficult enough.

It was a little bit of a surprise when Chris and Tina invited him on a night out. While it wasn’t usually his scene, the temptation to go and have fun with two people who actually seemed to like him was too strong. One or two drinks wouldn’t hurt him.

The bar they were at wasn’t too crowded, the company was good and Gavin was staring at the last dredges of his second beer. Owing to the fact he didn’t often actually drink, he was a bit more than merry as he watched Tina toddle off towards the bar. When she came back, she was proudly brandishing a tray with six glasses on them.

“Jäger Bombs,” she declared and Gavin watched her drop the shot glass into the tumbler and down it.

Chris looked at Gavin and shrugged. They each reached for the glasses and mimicked Tina. The drink burned on the way down along with the sickly sweet fizzy drink that Gavin had assumed as apple juice. It was nice, but he doubted he’d choose to pay for such a drink again.

They sat around and laughed about work but something felt off. Gavin couldn’t stop the trembling of his hands, he felt wired and his heart beat wildly in his chest. The pounding headache echoed each thump and he needed fresh air. Something was wrong. He stood up as his vision swam, wanted to get Chris to help him get out, maybe get help. Gavin remembered reaching for Chris’ shoulder but nothing after that.

The sound of machines beeping was eerily familiar. Gavin tried to open his eyes but darkness greeted him. The smell of antiseptic and cheap detergent flooded his nose and his heart sank. Whatever had happened, he was in hospital again.

There was a noise to his left and he turned to look despite it being so dark.

“Relax,” an unfamiliar voice soothed him, “you’re at the hospital. A doctor will be by soon to talk to you.”

Sure enough, there was the sound of footsteps, someone sighing as they sat down.

“Sorry to pull you out of bed in the middle of the night,” Gavin tried to smile, “but you can turn the light on, I promise I’m not a gremlin.”

“Mister Reed, the time is 3:14 in the afternoon, currently you are blind due to pressure on your optic nerves and it may take as long as several months before you will be able to see again.”

What followed was worse than his first time in hospital. Thankfully this time round though there were people to visit him. Tina and Chris were first through his door, falling over each other to apologise, saying they didn’t realise he avoided caffeine for such reasons. Privately, Gavin thought that while he didn’t make a song and dance about it, the fact he avoided not just tea and coffee, but also chocolate and anything else that might have caffeine in it. But it wasn’t important now, the damage had already been done, and really it had started with his first hit of Red Ice.

Because of worries over his health and a need to monitor his wellbeing, Gavin was given a room at the hospital to live in for as long as it took to get better. He was grateful that his insurance covered it, that was one less thing to worry about. But being blind and in hospital was boring. If he listened to the TV or the radio, he was easily startled when a nurse touched his arm to get his attention. Without something to listen to, he was bored out of his mind and wished someone would visit him for even give minutes.

Sleep became his friend, it helped pass time quicker and stopped his mind from whirling round and round over nothing. He’d settled down for his second nap of the day when the sound of clacking claws drew his attention. It approached his open door and Gavin scrunched up his face as he tried to figure out what he was hearing.

“Knock knock,” a gruff voice announced himself.

“Who is it?” Gavin pushed to sit up.

“I’m Hank, and with me I have Sumo. We come once a week to visit people stuck in this dreary old place to cheer them up with a cuddle.”

“No offence but I don’t cuddle strangers. Especially not when I can’t even see.”

The laugh he got in return was good-natured at least.

“Sumo is a Saint Bernard. A huge, fat and fluffy monstrosity who would sell me if it meant even a single second more of cuddling. Stick your left hand out, lower, that’s it. He’s going to touch your palm with his nose and then probably lick it for good measure.”

True to his words, something cold and wet nudged Gavin’s palm before a warm, wet tongue ran over it. Before Gavin could say anything, the bed dipped and a fuzzy body snuggled against his side with happy panting. If he wasn’t mistaken, a tail thumped furiously against his leg.

Despite his misgivings, having the giant dog to cuddle did lighten Gavin’s mood. And even exchanging a few pleasantries with Hank was fun. It came to an abrupt end when there was another knock on Gavin’s door.

“Mr. Reed?” a tentative voice asked.

“Call me Gavin, whoever you are,” Gavin replied.

Next to him, Sumo let out a happy little huff and jumped off the bed to greet the newcomer.

“Hello Sumo, hello Hank.”

“Connor.” If Gavin wasn’t mistaken, Hank sounded flustered and he grinned at the soap opera-esque ideas forming in his mind.

It turned out that Connor was there to help with things like reading out letters, helping manage finances and the like. He was softly spoken, gentle and it irked Gavin somehow.

Over the course of the weeks, both Hank’s and Connor’s presence became something to look forward to. Especially when they overlapped because Hank would always fumble his words in such an endearing way that Gavin had started to root for them.

“Why don’t you ask Connor out?” Gavin asked him casually while Sumo licked his fingers.

“Have you seen him?” Hank asked.

“No,” Gavin was quick to reply and laughed. “Nor you. But given how your dog is large, overweight and scraggly, I would guess you’re much the same. Terrifying to meet at first but an utter pushover and a softie at heart.”

“Thanks,” came the gruff grumble.

“In all seriousness though, just pull up some courage. I think he likes you too.”

They sat in silence for a bit until a knock sounded on Gavin’s door.

“Gavin,” Connor said, except it didn’t quite sound like him. Even Sumo seemed hesitant to greet him.

Quickly, Hank left with a muttered goodbye and it was just Connor and Gavin left in the room.

“You okay?” Gavin asked, genuinely curious.

“I am optimal.”

That afternoon, reading through the correspondence was sharper, there were fewer moments when Connor stopped and he didn’t chat to Gavin like he usually would. All in all, it was terribly out of character. Still, Gavin appreciated the change, he liked Connor but he was usually too soft and cheery for his taste.

It went on like that, most of the time Connor was his usual self but some days, he went in a totally different person. On those days, even Hank seemed a little taken aback, though at least he’d finally managed to ask Connor out for a drink.

“How was your date?” Gavin asked when Connor announced himself coldly at his door.

There was a beat of silence before Connor replied.

“It was adequate.”

That wasn’t the response Gavin had been hoping for. Usually, even on a quieter day, he could get Connor to sing Hank’s praise and enthuse about the man and his dog.

“Holy shit,” he whistled as he realised something, “you’re not Connor.”

Silence stretched in the room and nobody moved.

“I’m afraid you’re rather mistaken,” Connor tried to explain.

“Cut the crap. Who are you and what have you done with Connor?” Gavin snapped and there was a sigh as someone sat in the visitor’s chair.

“Promise you won’t tell anyone else?”

“Hand on heart,” Gavin nodded wish a Cheshire grin.

“You may call me Nines, I am Connor’s twin.”

“No shit. You went full on Parent Trap, didn’t you?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean by that,” Nines replied. “Connor is very busy with his work, his night classes take their toll. But for the course, he needs to do some voluntary work too. On days he’s swamped, I take over and cover here at the hospital. Nobody knows and I’d appreciate it if it stayed that way.”

Gavin nodded and pretended to zip his lips shut before throwing away the key.

Now that the secret was out, it became easier to talk to them. Connor was still sweet and absolutely head over heels for Hank while Nines’ sharp wit and barbs had Gavin snickering delightedly. He wasn’t going to lie, even before he’d know about the double act Nines and Connor pulled, he’d enjoyed Nines’ company more than Connor’s. To the point he’d felt a little bad when Hank and Connor seemed to happily in love because part of him wanted the snarky side of Connor for himself.

“Does Hank know?” Gavin asked Connor one day.

“He has met Nines, yes,” the reply was brushed off as Connor returned to reading him something about pension plans from work.

The topic didn’t come up again but Gavin was content. His vision gradually lightened, soon shapes bobbed around that started to look humanoid. Part of him was elated that he was going to be getting out of hospital so soon, but he didn’t want to lose Nines. Or even Hank or Connor for that matter.

They cheered with him when he could finally look at their outlines rather than stare over their shoulder by accident. Hank clapped him on the shoulder while Connor waxed lyrical about how wonderful it was. Still, it was Nines’ “about fucking time” that had him the happiest.

It was only fitting that Gavin’s vision was coming back rapidly once it began to improve. In the week since he’d had Hank visit, colours had bled back into his life and people’s faces were becoming clearer each day.

A knock in his door sounded before it opened and a tall, imposing man strode through.

“Hello Gavin,” Nines’ voice was unmistakable.

“Holy shit you are gorgeous,” Gavin laughed. “Don’t get me wrong, you sound amazing but you look even better.”

Nines didn’t even blush at the compliment. Instead, he pulled the letters from Gavin’s bedside table and sat down with them.

“I guess you don’t need me to help with these anymore?”

Gavin ruefully shook his head. He didn’t expect Nines to look up at him with a smile and a terse “good”. A number was scribbled on an envelope and Nines spent the allocated hour insulting him while Gavin gave as good as he got.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise to bump into Hank just as he was preparing to leave the hospital. The man had Sumo in his harness, an ID tag dangled from it. What was even more surprising was that Connor was with him, holding onto his arm with a small smile.

Gavin wasn’t going to lie, he did do a double take, thinking it was Nines on Hank’s arm. But a second look and he snorted. How nobody else noticed that the two of them were switching places as it suited them, he’d never know. To him, they looked and sounded so different. After a quick exchange of pleasantries, Gavin strolled out of the building and smiled at the sunlight for the first time in a long while.

A figure pushed away from the bench next to the door and greeted him with a sharp smile before swooping down for a kiss. Though Gavin still wasn’t allowed to drive, Nines was more than happy to help him with that in an official boyfriend capacity.

[narniaandplowmen]

This is one of the most interesting entries in the Chronicles of Narnia, if you ask me, together with The Last Battle. I cannot quite get my finger on why, but it seems to stand separate from the other six novels. That seems weird to say since the whole 'adventure directed by Aslan' thing is there in LWW, PC and, in bits and pieces, in VOTDT as well. It might be because this novel has the greatest amount of clear mistakes. Even before Eustace and the newly introduced Jill Pole enter Narnia, the story seems off to me. The whole 'summoning Aslan' is a weird thing, and the fact that Eustace even tells Jill about Narnia seems strange to me. With that, the story does not even start in Narnia. It starts in Aslan's land. Immediately, the first mistake happens, where Eustace falls down from the cliff. The entire adventure starts off on the wrong foot.

From there, it only gets worse, since they miss the First Sign. Trumpkin is too deaf to hear them, and they have to escape in the middle of the night, but they have to escape from those we got to know as 'the good guys'. From there, we meet Puddleglum, who, unlike most other Narnians is very negative and pessimistic. The trio that will go on this adventure is then complete, and it is quite the negative trio indeed. Jill and Eustace are, after all, known for complaining quite a bit. That is okay, but I clearly missed Lucy and her optimistic thoughts and endless faith, or Reepicheep, with his courage, bravery and sense of adventure. The adventure gets worse still, when they meet the Green Lady of the Kirtle encourages the crew to visit the Giants. They miss the Signs, completely forget about it.

However, do not misunderstand me and think I dislike this entry. I actually did quite enjoy it, though it has never been my favourite entry. I like it better now that I have just finished it, but this feeling will probably fade away again.

What I noticed quite quickly, which I did in VOTDT as well, is the distance that Eustace and Jill travel. They travel for many days, partly on Aslan's breath but also on their own. I love the number of days that they travel, it shows how immense the world that Lewis created is. Movies tend to compress the stories, which makes sense, but you forget the time that actually passes. And because the times are mentioned just in a few sentences, when you remember the stories you yourself also forget about the time the characters actually spend in Narnia. The time being mentioned gives the story such extra realism.

One of the other things I noticed was the true sense of symbolism in this novel. This becomes especially clear during the discussion Eustace, Jill, Rilian and Puddleglum have with the Witch, where she tries to convince the group that Narnia, that the Overlands, the Sun, the Moon, the Stars and Aslan do not exist. It seemed to me very similar to discussions we as Christians can often have with disbelievers. God cannot be real, there cannot be a Heaven, a world completely different from ours: how could there be? Arguing against these people seems futile, for each time they rationalise all you try to say. I dare say that Lewis intended this scene to be read this way (for as far as an author still has power over their work -- death of the author and all):

"And the lesson of it all is, your Highness," said the oldest Dwarf, "that those Northern Witches always mean the same thing, but in every age they have a different plan for getting it."

I found this line to be a sort of 'antagonist' to the "it never happens the same way twice" line. The Northern Witches want to take over Narnia, and with that, destroy those who live in it. Or, in 'our word'-terms: they try to take over Christian's faith and take away the life that resides in faith. With this in mind, my favourite quote is the one often cited in the fandom, and rightfully so:

I'm on Aslan's side even if there isn't any Aslan to lead it. I'm going to live as like a Narnian as I can even if there isn't any Narnia.

This line is also what makes Puddleglum my favourite character of this novel, together with, as always, Aslan. This line is the only thing you can keep hold of when in discussion with someone trying to rationalise your faith. It is such a beautiful line, and strangely hopeful. This 'real world' can suck sometimes, and honestly, it sucks most of the time. And even though many say that this is this real world and that this is everything there is, then I will choose to stay with my "play-world which licks your real world hollow".

This is also my favourite scene. I love the back and forth between the Witch and the group, how the group almost loses until Puddlegum, with all his bravery, stops out the fire, breaking the group free from the Witch's spell.

I also loved the parallels in temptation between King Caspian and his son. King Caspian wanted, so desperately, to visit Aslan's Land, but had to give that desire up in order to rule Narnia as a loyal and faithful king. And here, Prince Rilian looks into the depths of Bism and hearing the tales of this land and longs to go. I also love that Eustace wants to go, which sounded to me like a small throwback to the whole dragon-debacle. In the end, however, both Caspian and Rilian overcome temptation and become stronger because of it, they choose Narnia over everything else.

One other small detail I wanted to touch on was the Snow Dance! I would love to see this dance, it sounds so much fun and so pretty! I adore that snow is now celebrated in Narnia, so many years after the White Witch's rule.

Overall, I think I would give this novel 4 stars out of 5 (for I will be incapable of giving any novel not containing Reepicheep 5 stars). I liked it more than I thought I would, and I loved all the symbolism in this entry. I did not particularly like the negativity and quarrelling, but I do adore the powerful scene of the grew vs the Witch.

Also, I wonder what happened to all the other warriors out looking for Prince Rilian? That must have happened when he had only just disappeared. Were they cursed and set to work under the ground? Were they eaten by the giants? Did one of the rocks of the rock-throwing giants hit them? Did they just travel endlessly north, never realising Rilian lived underground now? Did the Witch kill them in her snake-form? I wonder...

[zendozebra]

All the Time in the World Chapter 16

Murata Ichigo was always told that he would serve the Time Stopper. That it was his birthright. A privilege. He was always told, “Obey his commands without question, and you will be rewarded.” He had seen his father commit terrible, horrible acts, senselessly. Torture for trivial amounts of information or money, and murder for even less. To Ichigo, the Time Stopper was an enigma; a man who created chaos for little to no reason, and didn’t even seem to care about it. He had always imagined a large, imposing man, that would take those who wronged him and turn them into twisted creations of flesh and blood. He was supposed to be a barbarian, a brute, one who had been allowed to live for over a hundred years while maintaining the prime of his youth, and would use that decades-old wisdom to torment those he despised. All he truly knew was that the man was meant to be feared and respected, and praised by both his father and Ichigo himself. So imagine Ichigo’s surprise when Time Enough was revealed to be a simple man, lean and muscular instead of large and towering with mass. He wasn’t even all that tall, either, just average height at most. He spoke oddly, like a man who cared too little and too much all at the same time, but his eyes were dull and dead. The eyes of someone who was bored. There were no light in his eyes, and they were often glazed over and unfocused. Ichigo’s father told him that their master was sick, that he’d lost what had given him his light. He’d gone to a bad place, and was trying and failing to bring himself back. He had been alone, all alone, for a long, long time. But Ichigo’s father was in no place to argue against the master’s wishes, for that was the vow he’d taken. Obey, and be rewarded. He was certainly rewarded, as Ichigo’s father had never once complained about money or food. Majima-sama had once asked for Ichigo to be brought to him, so there the boy kneels before the villain, barely 9 years old. His father stands to the side, nervously watching the master stare down the child. There were bottles upon bottles of liquor covering the floor, and the curtains were drawn shut, casting the room in a smothering layer of shadows. He held a cigarette between his fingers, and smoke curled through the air that surrounded him. The Time Stopper stood up, taking the pistol from the table beside him. He bent down in front of Ichigo, who looked up into the eyes of his so-called master. The words of his father echoed in his mind as the Time Stopper held the gun out to the boy. ‘Obey his commands without question, and you will be rewarded.’ Time Enough handed the boy the gun, and he gave his command. “Kill yourself.” So, without question, Ichigo placed the barrel into his mouth and pulled the trigger. He was thrown to the ground as the bullet pierced the ceiling, and Time Enough’s laughter echoed throughout the room, loud and deep. The elder Murata sighed in relief, giving Ichigo a small smile and a proud nod. “Holy fuck kid, you’re the best.” The master managed to say through his howls of laughter, “People will- Oh god I’m crying- People will usually punk out, but no, man, if you’re a fucking true believer, and you fucking believe in Majima, you kill yourself with no hes-” At this point he devolved into a mess of giggles and tears. It took the man a good few minutes to calm down, but when he did, he looked at Ichigo with a soft smile. “You know, I like your moxie, kid. I think I’m gonna help you out a bit. Got any plans for the future, little guy?” “Only to follow the path you lay out for me, Majima-sama.” “Then use your fuckin’ imagination, kid. In a world where I didn’t exist, what would you like to do for a living?” Ichigo looked at his hands, glowing softly as fire licked the tips of his fingers. “My mother was an udon ch-” “Cooking school. Got it.” The master looked over at Ichigo’s father, “Send him off, Murata. I’ve got a few ideas for what he can do, but he’s gonna need his training first. Also…” He kneeled down in front of Ichigo, “I noticed that quirk of yours… I see a lot of potential. Keep training it, but don’t let anyone know the extent of your power. Always keep an ace up your sleeve.” The master looked away, turning back to his father to talk about plans, but Ichigo had seen it. A faint little twinkle of something in the man’s dark eyes. Maybe he would regain that light one day, but not for a long, long time.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Majima walked into the restaurant, a hostess catching sight of him and immediately sitting him down at a table near the back of house. She handed him the menu, and offered him some wine, but he waved her off, asking for some soda instead. As with every visit to Othello, he had to take a moment to take in just how opulent and elegant his best worker’s establishment was. He took a look around, noticing that the owner had changed the three tapestries on the walls since his last visit. No longer did the walls show a choir of 4 angels, the temptation of 2 of them, and how the tempted 2 were damned, while the untempted 2 were allowed to ascend. Instead they now showed a Lovecraftian monster fighting a large knight, the monsters defeat at the hands of the knight, and- “Oh my, now isn’t this a pleasant surprise, Majima-sama. What brings a man of your stature to my humble little restaurant?” The old, hunched-over form of Murata Ichigo made his way over to Majima, looking every bit like the grandfather he was at heart. Still running his beloved restaurant at the age of 99, this was the man who’d worked for Time Enough for almost 90 years, now, and had been unquestionably loyal throughout that time. Yet at the same time… “Oh, cut the shit, Murata. Humble my ass, you have a fucking crystal centerpiece not 20 meters from us. How’s the family coming along?” Murata sat down, smiling kindly at the waitress who brought a glass of water for him, along with Majima’s coke. “Oh, just fine, sir. My son is getting ready to take over for me, and my great grandson is doubling his training regime. He’s aiming to get into Shiketsu High School, you know, and I know he’ll make a great hero.” Majima raised an eyebrow at that. “Hero training? Won’t that be a little, ya know, counter productive? He’ll know exactly where to look to out you to the public, and we both know that Iwasaki and Ishii aren’t exactly made to replace you. Hell, I don’t even think your son is made to replace you.” “Well, we must make do with the best we have, sir. Besides, who am I to tell my family what they can or can’t do. I know that somewhere down the line, Hori-kun will meet you, and you will find a way to convince him to keep quiet.” “You know that I am more than willing to beat your little Hori-kun into submission, right?” “Then I hope he trains hard enough to survive you, sir.” Majima laughed, remembering just why he’d always liked Murata more than the others. He understood what loyalty was, unlike Iwasaki, who he was starting to believe was planning against him. Other than that, Ishii had always been a bit… Bland. Sure, he was a good worker, and he listened to Majima fine enough, but he didn’t stand out all too much. It’s just a shame that Ishii’s position within the Hero Billboard Chart Japan offices is too valuable for Majima to just fire him. Murata had that air of a man who’s accomplished every goal he’s made for himself, which is true, since that goal was usually just “Follow Majima Kokiri”. “We have a lot to discuss, Murata. Let’s take this to your office.” Majima got out of his seat, walking past the old man and towards the door that had a golden plaque with Murata’s name on it. Murata followed after him, worrying in his grandfatherly way, “Majima-sama, weren’t you going to order a meal?” He tittered, “We can always prepare it for you to take it with you, sir. We’ve hired a new chef since your last visit, and I know you want to try his steak recipes!” “No, I’m good. I have my whole day planned out, and it’s bad luck to go against a plan before it’s fallen apart. We have a lot to talk about, and we need to get started.” “You know, sir, a plan never survives contact with the enemy.” “I’m not facing any enemies today, Murata. Only friends, and maybe a few of my students, if everything goes my way.” Majima lets Murata sit down on his own chair. Unlike with Iwasaki, Murata knows his place in this little group of his, so asserting dominance is unnecessary. Plus, the chair is padded in a way to help Murata’s back, so it’d be rude to take that away from him. “Alright, first things first, I hope you’ve gotten in contact with Ueno’s boys already. They’re not quite as good as their father was, but they’ve got the connections needed to get the shit we’re looking for, all the high-yield stuff. For the smaller stuff that I’ve got Iwasaki looking for, they’ll be able to help him out.” “Already done, Majima-sama. Ueno Jun and Ueno Len have already provided Iwasaki with the sidearm you requested along with both shotguns, and have shipped all of the ammo for it, as well as all of the shells. They tell me that they’re having trouble finding the dragon breath shells, as well as everything to do with the high-caliber rifles. They’re proving to be quite elusive, sir.” “Then I guess Iwasaki is just waiting to get everything together before he gives me a call. How about you? Your guys find anything yet?” “It’s only been a few days, sir, so the only thing we’ve gotten our hands on are the frag grenades and the lower tiered alkaline metals. The rest of the explosives will take a bit more time to acquire.” “You have until after the provisional license exams. I don’t want any major problems to get in the way of seeing what my students can do when their skills are really put to the test.” “That reminds me, Majima-sama. Why is it you’re teaching at UA, exactly? Care to put an old man’s mind at ease, sir?” Murata gave Majima a cheeky grin, making him scoff a bit, though he did smile. “Knock it off, you shit-bag. The reason I’m going to create to get you off of my back is that teaching at UA gives me an insight into the heroes movements, allowing me to plan around my enemies.” “But the real reason, sir?” “They’re good people, and they have a lot of potential. They plan to do whatever it takes to achieve their goals, and I can respect that. I want to see where it is they’re headed, and where they’ll end up. Aimi was a hero, way back when, and a few of them remind me of her. Plus, some small part of me wanted to spite Akira in any way I could, so, you know…” Murata nodded, understanding what Majima was trying to say. “Perhaps we should get back to the plan, sir. I believe you said that you had plans for today? We wouldn’t want to let you wander too far off schedule.” “Yeah, alright. Where were we? The prison, yeah. Tartarus is going to be heavily guarded, that’s not too big a problem. Guards I can deal with. Heroes are going to create factors I’d rather not deal with. They’ll make going in and out of Time Stop a bit more complicated than I’d like. To make sure that as many eyes as possible are looking away from the prison, we need to set you up around UA, put you in one of the buildings near the school. We’ll set up your Sun directly above the school, keep eyes off of me. Only shoot your shit when you think everyone is calming down, and only aim for the buildings. If you hit any of the students, you’ll have to explain yourself to me. But, if you see a guy with blonde hair wearing leather, then feel free to take a few pot shots. I’m still bitter about that time he spilled coffee all over my lecture notes. Ended up giving out confidential information that Nezu got mad at me for.” “They’ll search the area, sir. What should I do should they barge into whatever building I’m in?” “You’re old, Murata. We’ll move all of your stuff in, set it up like you live there. Whatever happens, don’t let Eraserhead use his quirk on you. Act old and senile, and if you have to, get angry at all these youngsters barging into your house. You never updated your Quirk Registry, right?” “I’m still registered with a weak fireball quirk, sir.” “Good, good. Alright, well, I’ve got shit to do today. Make sure you call Ueno’s boys, make sure Iwasaki’s keeping up on his shopping list. I’m gonna head out.” Majima turned and left, walking out of the back room and onto the main floor of the restaurant, with Murata following a few meters behind him. “Yo, I’m stealing a bottle of wine by the way.” Majima called back, grabbing a bottle from the rack as he walked by and startling the waiter that had been taking an order nearby. “What is mine is yours, sir, you know this. But I was under the impression that you were a sober man now, trying to be better. For your students, if I remember correctly?” “Well, more for three students, if I’m completely honest. Ibara has those weird beliefs about alcohol or whatever, but Iida and Yaoyorozu had started to give me shit for it. Plus, I’ve been thinking about Kori a lot. Don’t think she’d want her old man to be drinking as much as I was. Besides, the bottle’s not just for me, I’m sharing it with a pretty lady tonight.” “A lady?” Murata had a confused look on his face. “I was unaware that you’d begun dating again sir, but…” He looked down for a moment, and Majima turned around to check why he’d stopped talking. When he brought his head up, a wide smile was covering his face, like a child coming face to face with their favorite hero, or just Izuku whenever Yagi walked into the room. “Well, I’m just so happy that you’re finally letting yourself be happy again, sir! You’ve been so sad for so long, the whole time I’ve ever known you. I’m so, so happy that you’re doing this for yourself, sir! Getting back into the game, as you used to tell me!” Majima looked away, growing uneasy with just how happy Murata was. He was always trying to look out for the time stopper. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Get back to work, Murata, I need you to be quick with that shopping list. The longer we wait, there’s a higher chance that Akira might try to pull something.” With that said, Majima time stopped his way back to his apartment, closing the door behind him and throwing his coat onto his couch, right next to a Uraraka. He moved into the hallway, pulling his shirt off and closing the bathroom door and started warming up the water. Seriously, over 200 years and they still couldn’t get showers to start off with hot water? That’s probably the only thing he’d been looking forward to during eternity. He set his phone to play some music while he took a shower, something light and jazzy, he’s trying to stay in a good mood, after all. He hopped right i- He turned the water off, put his pants back on and walked back out and into his living room, eyeing the brunette sitting on his couch. He pointed a finger at her, saying “You better hope the school doesn’t have your parents’ phone number on record girl, cause I will be giving them a call about this.” “Wait wait wait, Majima-sensei, please hear me out!” She exclaimed, hopping off of his couch and waving her arms about. Her face was bright red, almost stammering her words as Majima backed away from her. “You stay far the fuck away from me, girl! This already looks bad enough if someone else were to barge in here. Speaking of, how the hell did you even get in here? The only people who have a key are Nezu, Iida, Midoriya and myself. Which of them gave you their key?” “A-Actually, sensei, Nezu-sensei gave me my own key. He told me it was to ‘Pay him back for running away from his responsibilities like a child’.” “That asshole!” Majima yelled, but he quickly took a deep breath and calmed himself down. Today was not the day for this shit, that’s for sure. “Look, just… Just what do you want?” “Is there… Do you happen to know a place that is willing to hire me for a part time position? Money has been a little tight, lately and Nezu overheard me talking to Deku-kun and Iida-kun about it. He gave me a key to your apartment and told me to wait for you to get back.” “Yeah, for future reference, don’t do that. Part time, huh? Whatever, not my place to ask why, not that I care, but I can set you up with a restaurant gig, how’s that? I just got back from talking to one of my guys, owns that place down on Shikifuku Street, high-end place, classy. I’ll get your number off of Midoriya, and I’ll have my guy call you. Now get out, I have a busy day today.” She surprised him by beginning to perform a rapid series of bows, saying thank you over and over in a way that reminded him of Izuku. Finally, after about a minute of this, Majima had enough and just kicked her out. “Oh, shit, uh, when you get back to the dorms, tell Sato to start preparing a little chiffon cake for me, I need it for a date later. Tell ‘im I’ll pay for it.” With a nod of her head she was off, leaving him alone to finally take a shower. When he finished up, he used a towel to wipe away the fog in the mirror, and set about doing something he hadn’t done in 200 years- Trimming his hair and cleaning up his beard. Majima’s not an idiot, he knows that he looks like a homeless man most of the time, but today is about putting your best foot forward, and god damnit, he’s going to look nice for once. Who care if his body resets later tonight, he only has to look good for one day. 30 minutes later, his hair was a tad bit shorter and his face was completely clean shaven. He left the bathroom, putting on a black dress shirt and his best pair of slacks. He glanced at the full length mirror he had on the wall, catching sight of himself. He thought he looked good, even Kayama would probably say so, and god knows she has her tastes. He grabbed his jacket and left, heading to a small soba place down the street. He picked up some hayashi chuka, since hot noodles had always given her a stomach ache. Plus, ordinary cold soba was too cheap for what he had planned, and he’d finally snuck into Nezu’s office to grab all of his paychecks. As a result, he had money to throw around, meaning he was gonna get the best of everything he needed. Good thing Murata’s place was so high class, cause the wine he grabbed wasn’t cheap. He’d even gone so far as to buy some nice crystal wine glasses for later. See, no one can try to say that Majima wasn’t making an effort. He walked back onto the UA campus, passing an irritated Aizawa as he trained that purple kid from the sports festival. That reminded him of something he’d been talking to Kayama about, should he get an apprentice? Aizawa had the purple kid, Yagi had Izuku, hell even Yamada had been eyeing Aoyama. Should he take a student under his wing, show them all about villainy? Maybe, we’ll see. He got to the 1-A dorms and looked around for Sato, finding him in the kitchen just putting the finishing touches on the cake. He paid Sato 5,000 yen for the cake, overpaying a bit because he was in a good mood. He packed away the cake, and nodded happily when he decided that he had everything he’d need for his date. He left the dorms, walking to the train station, not wanting to use Time Stop and walk the whole way to the park. The train took about 30 minutes, and Majima was careful to not jostle his bags too much, lest he break the wine bottles or glasses. Without those, his entire plan is going to fall apart, and he’d be sorely tempted to cry. Well, not real- Yeah, no, really. He’s trying really hard, it would probably be worth a few tears. He hopped off of the train, checking his phone to check the time and continued down the street, heading towards the park. Majima passed a few little fields where children were running around and playing games, and he had to duck to avoid getting hit in the head with a soccer ball. He finally got to where he was headed, pushing past those big iron gates, wincing when they screeched open. That really hammered a few things home. Just how long has it been? He carried his bags down the gravel path, passing a few people here and there, but the park was an old one, very old, so there weren’t too many that he had to worry about. Mostly small families, trying to teach their little ones a bit of family history and whatnot. Majima was heading to the farthest part of the park, all the way towards the back, so he knew he wouldn’t have to deal with any of them. Still, knowing they were around put him on edge. Where there were people, there was the opportunity for crime time funzies, and with crime time funzies came heroes. With heroes came the cops, then investigations, then blah blah blah, you get the point. He didn’t want to deal with that today. He walked for about 20 minutes, the air around him growing colder as night grew closer. He looked up, guessing he had about another 15 minutes before the last of the sun’s light fell over the horizon. That was fine, he only needed just enough time to get them all set up. Eventually, he arrived at the very back of the park, where trees were wide and the grass tall. The benches scattered here and there were old, even older than he was, and were rusted and rotted, falling apart with age. The gravel path had become cobblestone, and the tall rocks that surrounded him were crumbling away. Except for one, though, standing tall, proud, and polished against the dreariness around it, and that’s where his date was waiting for him. He smiled, and laughed as he ran the last few meters to meet here. “There you are, I’ve been looking for you. You wouldn’t believe the day that I’ve had, let me tell you. I had to visit Murata, make plans for murder, you know how that usually works out, then I had to get one of my students a job- Oh, it’s been nonstop all day.” He sat down, looking at the sunset before he started unpacking his bags. “It’s been awhile since we’ve done this, so I made sure I got you your favorite.” He put one of bowls of hayashi chuka on the ground in front of him, before grabbing his own, taking a bite. Majima pulled the chiffon cake out, setting it to the side as he grabbed the wine glasses. Grabbing the bottle of the dark red liquor, he pulled the cork out with a grunt, laughing softly as he poured himself a glass of wine. He filled the second glass and placed it in front of the stone, leaning back and taking a drink. He glanced at the sunset, casting the sky in a beautiful array of pink and purple while as the sun finally fell past the horizon. The stars were beginning to twinkle in the night, and sighed, “So much has happened lately. Let me tell you all about it.”