#i cant figure out how to display him quite well enough yet

[mymp3]

[sup-hoes-its-me]

Adore You (Yamato x Reader)

A/N: hi guys. Yamato is your secret admirer and you are desperate to find out who's been leaving all these gifts at your doorstep. Civilian reader. Will be two parts, and since i just found out i have the coronavirus and cant leave the house, i’ll be putting out the second part very soon.

Ps i headcanon that yamato would be very shy and awkward with his crush. i also think that when he is nervous he definitely has really sweaty hands. idk thats just the vibe i get from him lol. please enjoy.

Word count: 4500

Y/N walked down the street after a long day of working in the bakery, kneading dough and icing cakes and sweets. It was a great job, and she really enjoyed the company of the two elderly owners. In her arms was another small picnic basket filled with sourdoughs and garlic loaves and cinnamon raisin buns. Those leftovers served as her breakfast, lunch, and dinner most days and it saved a lot of money on groceries.

Sometimes, she gifted the bread to friends and family though, like tonight.

As she walked the bustling streets, people walking home from work for the night, she noticed a couple of familiar faces sitting in the windows of a nearby restaurant. Feeling a little social, she walked into the restaurant and turned the corner, walking through the tables and past other booths full of people talking and drinking. It was busy tonight in Konoha, everyone getting ready for the weekend.

She came to a stop beside their table, and shifted so her basket rested in the slight curve of her hip. With her free hand she waved to the men, a small smile gracing her lips.

“Kakashi, Yamato,” she chirped, “I saw you guys in the window on my way home from work and thought I’d stop in to say hello.”

“Y/N. What a pleasant surprise.” Kakashi hummed, peering over his glass of golden liquid at his friend, who he could tell was struggling to figure out what to say or do. Yamato wasn’t normally nervous; he was very cool headed. How else would he become such an important Anbu member? But around Y/N, this woman with flour dusted in her hair and the smell of cinnamon and chocolate on her clothes, he crumbled. Just that smell alone could make Yamato lose his composure. And Kakashi knew that very well. “As a matter of fact, we were just talking about you.”

Yamato coughed on his drink, covering his mouth with his arm to keep from spitting up on the table. Even if they were just talking about her, it was completely uncalled for for Kakashi to stab him in the back like that. He turned to face the young woman who looked down at him with curiosity in her eyes.

“Really? What about?” she questioned, raising a brow.

He averted his eyes to the table again where his hand rested clutching at the glass. “We were just discussing the bakery,” he explained sheepishly, a hand going to rub the back of his neck. He felt the stress coming on, and sweat was beginning to gather on his palms. He felt ill, and more importantly, upset with the friend sitting directly across from him, smirking under that damn mask.

What an evil bastard.

“Mind if I join you guys? I could definitely use a drink.” She motioned to the seat next to Yamato, and he scooted closer to the wall to make room for her. She made sure her basket was sealed and secure before reaching over the table to Kakashi. “Can you sit this next to you? I don’t wanna take up the whole table.”

“No problem.”

She slid into the seat beside Yamato, and he realized just how small their table really was. The chair was clearly made for one person, or maybe two small people. They were just inches away. He could literally feel the heat of her thigh beside his. He was losing his mind, he was sure of it. There was absolutely no reason to act or think this way just because of a woman, a little baker from the village. No reason. It was inappropriate.

He took a deep breath and sipped on his drink. Everything was cool. Y/N L/N was cool.

“What kind of goods are you bringing home tonight?” Yamato asked calmly.

“Uh, lets see. A sourdough loaf and a garlic rosemary loaf. Also, I have about eight cinnamon buns in there,” she listed off the top of her head, “Why? You wanna take some home with you, because that’s fine. I’m not gonna eat all of it.”

“No, not this time.”

“You, Kakashi?”

“Yeah, I’ll take whatever.” It was a free meal for the next day? How could he say no to that?

The waitress came around, and Y/N ordered a tall glass of some sweet drink, something she knew wouldn’t taste like shit but would get her all warm and cozy quick, fruit juice covering up the taste of poison. “So, what were you guys talking about before I came around? I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

“It’s good you came around, actually. We could use a woman’s opinion here.” Yamato glared at Kakashi, pleading with everything he had for the copy nin to just leave it alone. Kakashi was set in his goals though, and pushed forward with what he was saying. “It’s about Tenzo.”

An even brighter smile grew on her lips, one full of mischief and curiosity. “Oohoho? I see. What’s got you men stuck?” She loved to gossip, it was just something so interesting in her mundane life. Surely, it wasn’t as interesting to shinobi who almost die all the time and always have something to do, but for a village girl who goes home every night to read and eat bread, and then go to work where she just makes and sells said bread, a bit of juicy personal information really intrigued her.

“It’s honestly not a big deal-”

“Our boy here, he’s got a crush.”

Her eyes widened and suddenly, she felt the urge to down even more of her drink. He was interested in someone? She never expected that. He was always so quiet and calm, and kept to himself. He didn’t seem like the type to ever care about someone in that way. She sighed, taking a long sip on her drink, which tasted like peaches and oranges. At least it was sweet enough to help her curb the impending sadness.

Maybe she was stupid for it, but she cared for Yamato. He was such a sweet and kind man, so earnest and gentle. He was everything good about her mornings, when he would walk in and ask for the same hot cross bun to start his day. He would smile and compliment the cake decorating she was working on, and tell her about his missions and what he had to do for the day.

Perhaps Y/N had the tiniest of crushes on Yamato. It was something she would never reveal to anyone else, but it was true. She couldn’t deny herself that fact.

Kakashi stared at the woman, gauging her reaction to the statement. From the way she immediately went to sip away half of the drink in her glass, and the way her shoulders curled in on themselves, he could guess how she was feeling. He wasn’t usually a fan of meddling in other people’s business, but he was beginning to feel tired of Yamato complaining day in and day out about how he could never get the girl or express his feelings. He was afraid of rejection, as sad as that might be.

He was just there to give them a push in the right direction.

“I see.”

“What do you think he should do? What do the civilian girls like?”

This crush was just another civilian. It would be one thing if he fell in love with a kunoichi, someone she would never be able to compete with, but the thought of him choosing another normal woman over her, the envy practically oozed from her pores. What did this other girl have that Y/N didn’t?

Y/N ordered another drink when the waitress walked by. And then another after she drank the second one. Might as well get more down and drown out these jealous thoughts.

Meanwhile, she listed off things that random women normally like when men do for them, things she didn't really care about like chocolates and asking them out to dinner and giving them stuffed animals. Boring things. Things they all already knew. Kakashi agreed that the advice was kinda bland, and he could have come up with that easily.

Yamato eyed her down nervously as she practically chugged the rest of her drink. The woman wasn’t a big drinker, just a couple innocent cocktails here or there, never with the intention of getting drunk.

“You okay, Y/N?”

“Yes, I’m perfectly fine,” she told him smoothly. “Anyway, I’m not done telling you all about us village girls.”

The third drink came by and she sighed, taking another long sip. At least it tasted good, that made it easy to drink and drink and drink.

“Maybe you should slow down.”

“Maybe you should worry about yourself. I’m grown. I can handle myself, Yamato.” He felt a pang in his chest at her sharp words, ones that he’d never really heard directed toward him. She scolded Kakashi on the daily for being a pervert, but only kind words met Yamato’s ears previously. “Anyway, about this girl. Have you tried getting her anything as a gift? The things I listed before? Love notes? That sorta thing?”

He shook his head. “Well, no. I haven’t tried anything yet.”

“That’s the thing about you, Tenzo. You’re so modest. If you want the girl, you need to go in and get her. You need to show her what she means to you, since you can’t bring yourself to just outright tell her.”

“The whole bold displays of affection aren’t my thing.”

She hummed, her head lolling from side to side as she twirled the straw of her drink in between her fingers. “Maybe you should try some roundabout approach since you’re so scared of rejection. Send her anonymous letters and gifts, give her little clues that it’s you and see how she reacts.”

“Like a secret admirer?"

“Exactly! That’s sooo romantic. I wish some guy would do that shit for me.”

Kakashi raised a brow. “Oh, really?”

“Of course. I’m almost 27 and I’ve never had a long lasting relationship. I just want some guy to really, I don’t know, just love me. Love who I am, not hook up with me for my body or-or only pretend to like me for coupons on bread,” she complained, quite loudly as well. “Fuck those guys and their bread discounts...”

“Y/N-”

“I’d suggest you do something like that for your crush. Make her feel like you really care about her mind and soul.” Y/N clutched her hand over her heart and squeezed the front of her dress. “So many men nowadays act like horny teenagers, and us ladies are sick of it.”

She really did not need to go into such detail, and Yamato could tell she was drinking too much. Y/N would never say these things aloud if she were completely in her right mind. He felt rude just sitting there letting her rant on and on, exposing her own feelings to the table. But at the same time, he was grateful to know what she wanted in a lover. She never really let on what her romantic life was like, other than single for the most part.

That is what he and Kakashi were discussing before she came around. He was desperate to sweep her off her feet and woo her, to make revealing his feelings easier. Kakashi told him to just go to the bakery and tell her right then and there, but that was just too bold. He wasn’t going to go in without a plan, it was irrational.

“Yamato, I’m telling you, if this woman rejects you, she’s fucking stupid. You’re a catch. You and Kashi over there, both of you could get any woman you want, and that’s a fact.” the woman waved her hand to emphasize her point, only to knock the rest of her fourth drink over into her lap, sticky syrup soaking into her apron and through to her skirt. “Oh man.”

“I think it’s time for you to head home, little miss Y/N,” Kakashi chimed in, “This is exactly why we don’t bring you to bars, you know.”

“Shush. I am fine.”

Yamato sighed, motioning with his hands for her to move to the edge of the seat. He rolled his eyes at her words, knowing she was talking out the ass. “Yeah, yeah. Just get up, Y/N. I’m taking you home.”

Both men were surprised when she lifted her hand and pushed him away from her. Her glare was intense, anger behind those eyes. “No! Not you. I want Kakashi to walk me home.” The man was taken aback by the harshness in her tone. She was normally calm tempered, but her head was spinning and she was obviously growing moody.

“That’s fine by me. Yamato, you’ll pick up the bill for us and uh, clean this mess, right?” Kakashi smirked as he slid out from the booth and picked up her bag of baked goods. She followed suit, climbing out of her seat and grabbing onto the shinobi’s arm tightly. He really couldn’t care any less about her nonsense. It had been so long since they became friends, he’d seen her in every mood imaginable, and much drunker than this. He’s walked her home more than a few times in their past years.

“Curse you, cheap-ass.”

“Gotta go.”

With that, the white haired man walked out the restaurant with a woman in tow. They lived in the same direction, so he started down the street as she stumbled after him, tripping occasionally on pebbles. He felt bad for his friend, really. But the answer was clear as day now. Y/N cared for Yamato a lot more than she let on. It was just up to one of them to make a move. He couldn't do everything for them.

She tripped along beside him, letting her head fall against his shoulder a few times. Her eyes slid up to the man’s masked face, and he felt her hands begin to quiver a bit around his arm, just a tiny bit, but it was still there. Those little, very-telling, tremors.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” he asked gently, knowing she would immediately spill whatever was stuck on her mind.

“Kashi, why does Tenzo want some other village girl?” she questioned, her cheeks puffing out and her eyes getting watery with tears. “Why doesn’t he want me? I want him so badly, it hurts right here.” she placed her free hand over her stomach and gagged. “I might throw up, it hurts so much.”

“Trust me, it’s gonna be okay,” he hushed, a tiny smile on his lips. He didn’t want to reveal too much to her, but it was just so amusing pulling the strings like this. Two of his friends, one a subordinate and the other a sneaky baker, falling for each other right in front of him. With all the work piling up, this was definitely a refreshing take.

“Also, you shouldn't throw up. It'll burn your throat, you know.”

She nodded, and just clutched onto her stomach as they made their way down the narrow alleyways toward her small apartment. He unlocked the door for her when she struggled to fit the key into the tiny hole that blurred together with everything else. He was a good friend, she thought, and made a mental note to thank him next time she saw him. Well, she tried to make a mental note, but when her body hit the mattress in the corner of her small studio, she found herself drifting away.

__________

God, her head hurt so badly she thought her skull was cracking open right then and there, as she lifted her head from her pillow. Light shined in through the window only to make things worse than before. She looked around the room and noticed that her coat was hung up properly on the hook and her shoes were sitting by the door. Her basket rested atop her counter.

Most importantly, on her nightstand sat a glass of water and a couple pills, ready for her to take the moment she woke up. Kakashi or Yamato must have walked her home and put her to bed. They were very nice men, she enjoyed having them as friends, she just worried she had made a drunken fool of herself last night in front of them. She rarely drank heavily, for that reason. She couldn’t even remember what happened, just that she met them at the restaurant and then the rest fell empty in her mind, little images blending together until she couldn’t decipher a thing that happened. She was more than ashamed.

How could she lose control of herself so casually, she wondered. She never even wanted to drink, much less enough to give her this searing headache. Something must have happened last night that influenced her decisions. Maybe she had a drinking contest with Kakashi like that one time before. If so, that was completely uncalled for on the man’s part. He knew her tolerance.

Nevertheless, she needed to get ready for work. A hangover wasn’t enough to heed the workings of the bakery.

She took the pills, and threw off her covers, walking over to her counter to take out one of the cinnamon rolls, taking a big bite to curb her hunger pains. After taking a moment to compose herself, she got ready for work. If she was late, she knew the owners would be forgiving, but she still felt bad regardless. She was going to walk in looking like a complete disaster.

As she headed out her door that morning, she stumbled on something sitting right at the foot of her doorstep on the welcome mat. Resting there, in a tiny little ceramic pot, stood a bonsai tree, trimmed and cared for perfectly. Her eyes scanned the area for who could have set it there, but met only empty space.

Hesitantly, she picked it up and brought it into her home. There was no note attached, nothing to signal who’d given it to her. Just a little tree that she would put on her window sill. It was strange, she had to admit that, to receive an anonymous gift at such an hour. She’d have to ask her friends about it later on to see if one of them had given it to her, for reasons she didn’t know.

But as the days went by, and those days turned into weeks, she continued to receive gifts every few days. More tiny trees in pots, sometimes flowers in little glass vases. None of them at first had anything attached until the most recent piece which when she picked it up to take into her home, a folded piece of paper sat beneath the vase. She made sure to pick it and put it in her apron to read on her break when she went to work. She didn’t have the time when she woke up only about 20 minutes before she was due at her job.

She was more than grateful for the little garden she was accumulating on her window sill, the beautiful flowers and trees somehow surviving despite her little knowledge of taking care of them. She stopped by a flower store in town to get some fertilizer just to keep them alive. It would be a shame if they died since someone was being so kind as to give them to her.

With her boring life, the flowers brought a smile to her face and a warmth in her heart that she hadn’t felt before. Regardless of who was leaving the items there, she felt like she was important to someone. Some person was taking time out of their day to show they cared about her.

Truthfully, she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t wished it was Yamato leaving her gifts. She’d been attracted to the man for quite some time, ever since they met really. He was just so strong and brave, and awkward in a cute kind of way. He was truly the only man of her affections, and she could only dream she was the object of his as well.

It was more than unlikely though. He was a strong ninja of the leaf. The chances of someone that amazing wanting to be with someone as simple as the town baker were lower than she wanted to admit. He most likely had his eyes set on some gorgeous kunoichi like Shizune or Kurenai. Someone he could relate to, really.

It was embarrassing to even admit she had a crush on him. It made her feel so tiny and weak, knowing that she wasn’t his ideal.

So she pushed that thought from her mind. Yamato would never be interested in her, and he most certainly not the one leaving her little notes and plants.

What she did know was that this person was a shinobi. Maybe not Yamato, but they were definitely a shinobi. She set up a trap, at least one she thought a normal person would fall for. Right before her door, she set up a tiny trip wire made of floss at the perfect level for someone to pull loose when they walked up to leave a gift on her welcome mat. Her room was at the very end of the hallway, so there was no way anyone else except her secret admirer was the one to set off the trap. Any normal person without the high perception of a shinobi would set off the trap and she would be able to narrow down the results to a civilian.

Only, the morning after she set up the trip wire, when she opened her door, there sat another bouquet of flowers, as well as an untripped strip of floss.

This person had to be a shinobi. She concluded. It was the only explanation in her mind, desperate to find out who the mystery person was all this time.

As she walked the streets that afternoon after the store had closed, her eyes honed in on Yamato, who stood next to a vegetable stand picking up some groceries. Immediately, she turned on her heel and cornered him between the squash and the sweet potatoes.

“Yamato, I need to talk to you. It’s urgent. Do you mind?” she practically demanded, and his eyes widened. He did not expect such an abrupt conversation between them. He shifted awkwardly to rest his grocery bag in the crook of his elbow and lean on his left side, arms crossed over his chest.

He knew what she wanted to talk about. It was about those gifts that he had been giving her. It was just a matter of whether she had figured out it was him or not, that was the question. He was kinda hoping she didn’t know yet. He was not ready to face what came after the reveal, rejection or otherwise. He really hadn’t thought it that far out yet. How could he. Just thinking up love notes and what plants to give her next was more than enough to worry about.

But damn, when he looked down at her, hair dusted with flour from a days work, a smudge of cake batter still on her forearm, apron a complete mess, he wanted to cave and tell her everything. She was just so beautiful, so clumsily perfect he couldn’t help but lose his train of thought. He swore he’d never seen a woman more perfect than her, not even Naruto’s sexy jutsu could come close to this girl.

He found his ears heating up and no doubt turning red at the thoughts running through his mind, and he was quick to smother them down. He was not irrationally emotional. Hell, he was ANBU, he should be able to control his emotions down to a tee.

“Yes, Y/N?”

“I have a secret admirer, and I know they are a shinobi.”

He felt himself growing nervous. How had she deduced that? “Ah, that’s definitely exciting for you. How do you know it’s a shinobi?”

“I know because I set up a tripwire last night and the person didn’t set it off, so I know they are coordinated enough to avoid it. This isn’t just some random village boy. This is someone skilled.”

“Y/N, he could have very well just avoided the trap with his natural gait, don’t you think?” he tried to reason with her, try to get her off his trail. Admittedly, he thought she was quite clever for setting up the trap. When he walked over it the night before, he swore it was just a spider web. He didn’t even consider the possibility of a trap in his way.

If only he could throw her off his scent. He needed more time. He couldn’t confess to her now. It was too abrupt, too sudden. He would probably die.

“No, I’m convinced it’s a shinobi.”

Shit. “Well, what are you going to do now?”

She thought for a short moment on what she was going to say, tapping her foot on the ground beside her. Her eyes widened and she smiled at the thought that ran through her mind. Of course, it was so obvious. “The gifts come sporadically, so I know that the shinobi can’t leave gifts when they are on missions. Next time there is a long break in gifts, I will just ask around to figure out who has been on a mission for a while. Bam, I’ve got my answer. It’s foolproof.”

She really had thought this through more than him. She was too good, and he felt himself panicking. He had a weeklong mission in 3 days, and if she asked anyone, they would tell her it was him. He felt moisture gather up at his brow, and he internally cursed his situation. He had to find some way out of this mess without her figuring out it was him.

“Yeah, that could definitely work. I hope it all works out for you, Y/N,” he lied through his teeth.

“I know. I’m just smart like that, aren’t I?”

“You sure are,” he muttered, but honestly, he just wanted to go off and find Kakashi. He needed to talk to him. His eyes slid away from Y/N and he sighed. “I’ve got to go, but I’ll see you around, yeah?”

“Yeah, of course. Don’t forget to stop by before your next mission to get some of our special food pills, okay? I just made a new batch and you can try them free of charge. Anything for a fella as handsome as yourself.” She laughed, shifting her weight to press a hand to her hip.

Jeez. There was no good reason for her looking so adorable. Calling him handsome as well? It was all too much for his heart to handle. Needless to say, he felt like he was going to explode if he didn’t walk away right then. With that, he simply nodded before patting her shoulder. “Like I said, gotta go.”

“Oh, okay. See you around.”

“See you.”

He walked away quickly, heading in the direction of Kakashi’s apartment, knowing he just had to do something about the mess he was currently in, and ways to avoid the inevitable. His heart was racing so fast he thought he might be having a heart attack. How could he be swayed so easily by a pretty face. He had no idea, but he really wanted it to stop. For the sake of his sanity, he needed to learn to be calm around her.

He would tell her soon, get all this off his chest and share his true feelings. He just needed a bit more time.

[fa1rytunes]

pairing: xiao/chongyun rating: mature word count: 3k tw: implied rape attempt tags: atypical angel/demon au, suggestive themes, dirty talk, finger sucking, mutual pining, soulmates

> NO ONE UNDER 16, SUGGESTIVE CONTENT <

ao3 link: here other notes: written for xiaoyun weekend day 1, angel/demon au

When faced with the fact that they have all eternity to be together, angels Xiao and Chongyun choose a path much different from that of their demons.

It was a rite of passage. Usually, they’d have done it alone, but Xiao and Chongyun were like two peas in a pod. One moved, the other followed like his shadow. They completed each other so perfectly, so uncannily perfectly that they had to do it together.

Meeting their assigned demons for the first time, that is.

Both of them sort of hoped that, after meeting their demons, they’d be able to safely return to the tranquil life they’d been living as companions.

They didn’t know why they had been matched together, but it was not exactly uncommon for angels to work in pairs. However, at first glance, Xiao and Chongyun made an odd duo.

Xiao had become an angel after living a very troubled mortal life. He had his fair share of blood on his hands. And… It wasn’t all good blood to have on one’s hands. While he had spent most of his mortal life working as an emergency surgeon in an ER, he had also lived a double life, helping criminals. He wasn’t sure he really deserved to be made an angel, but the role seemed perfectly suitable for him, because of his tendency to save and protect anyone who asked.

As for Chongyun, he wished he could remember his mortal life. Instead, all he had to cling onto was the immediate pull he felt towards Xiao after he opened his eyes next to him in the afterlife. Like quite a few angels, his memory had been wiped clean. This was a new beginning for him. No one really knew why some angels remembered their mortal lives and some didn’t, but all figured it was part of someone’s plan. Nevertheless, what remained of Chongyun’s mortal life was his personality: meek, but always cheerful, trying to keep a positive outlook on everything—quite the opposite of Xiao, who had a temper that pushed away pretty much everyone else. Only around Chongyun did his temper mellow out, but nobody quite understood why.

The both of them spent some time in the angels’ realm, getting acquainted with their new state of existence and learning how to use their wings. They knew that this time wouldn’t last.

The notion of time had little meaning to angels, but all angels were fated to meet their demons, and to engage against them into the eternal struggle to keep them from wreaking havoc on the mortal realm. But just like no one had had to explain angels how to fly, or how to cross the boundary between the angels’ realm and Teyvat, nobody had to tell Xiao and Chongyun that the time to meet their demons had come. It was a question of instinct, really. Nobody had to tell them where to go, either.

And thus, they found themselves in familiar territory—for Xiao, at least. The high cliffs surrounding the pool in the middle of Wuwang Hill were a sight he remembered very well from his mortal life. Fireflies floated around the calm waters of the pond, and the sound of frogs and crickets singing into the night filled the atmosphere. Many times he found himself in this area for stargazing. Part of him feared that the fond memories attached to this place would be tainted by what they came there to do, though.

Chongyun gave his hand a firm squeeze.

“It’ll be alright,” he said quietly.

Xiao gave a silent nod in response. He didn’t have the heart to explain Chongyun how he felt, but maybe he didn’t need to. It seemed like Chongyun could read him like an open book, and that was often a relief, for Xiao was not particularly skilled at putting his feelings into words.

They walked alongside one another, their steps in sync on the rocks in the pond, and then on the dirt path that meandered through the hills and the forest. A warm, humid breeze swirled around them. Chongyun’s hand felt cool and soft under Xiao’s fingers. It always did.

They exchanged a quick glance as a wave of shivers ran down their necks. They’re here.

A honeyed laughter echoed from their right, just beyond a large rock on the side of the path. When they came into view, Xiao and Chongyun frowned in unison.

It was easy to guess that those two really were Xiao and Chongyun’s demons. Their resemblance was uncanny. The other Chongyun looked like a splitting image of the one standing next to Xiao, only, he was dressed in navy blue instead of white, with lighter blue details. The other demon was bare-chested, and dressed in red instead of jade green and purple.

What was most troubling, though, was how they acted.

They were laying down in the grass, the demon who looked like Chongyun on top of the one who looked like Xiao, and it took both angels a moment to realize where the demons’ hands were going. They were going in… not very appropriate places. One was firmly groping the other’s ass, and the other’s hand was dangerously close to the first one’s crotch. And they were… aggressively making out. The demonic Xiao lookalike interrupted his kissing session to look up.

“Oh, look, there they are, finally,” he said.

The Chongyun lookalike turned around to stare at the two angels.

“Hm… They look so stiff. Are they made out of cardboard or something?” He nonchalantly trailed his hand on the other demon’s chest.

“Darling, you know all angels are made out of cardboard. They can’t take a joke, can’t have fun, can’t have sex. That’s how dull they are,” he sneered.

Xiao turned around, letting go of Chongyun’s hand, but Chongyun caught his arm.

“I’ve seen enough,” he hissed through his teeth.

He spread his wings, ready to fly back to their home, but Chongyun held firm.

“Are you sure that’s all we need to see?” the blue-haired angel asked.

“Whatever more they have to show us, I don’t want to see,” he replied.

“Oh, a little flustered by our display of affection, are we?” Chongyun’s alter ego asked, smirking.

“Oh, don’t tell me… Those two haven’t fucked yet?! Wow, I’m impressed. Maybe angels really are that prude,” the other demon replied, chuckling.

Xiao itched to shut them up, but he knew that the demons were deliberately provoking them. Getting them to react was, without a doubt, the demons’ goal from the get go. That was the reason Xiao wanted to fly away. That, and the fact that seeing both demons so obviously touching each other, making it very visible that their relationship went way beyond Chongyun and Xiao’s companionship, roused a strange confusion deep within his heart, and he was not sure he wanted to face those feelings.

“Oh—could it be…?! Could it be that they haven’t even told each other they like each other? Oh, dear Abyss, I don’t believe it!” Xiao’s lookalike added.

Chongyun scowled. For the first time since Xiao and him had met, the contact of his hand on Xiao’s arm felt warm, not cool. Concerned by the sudden change in his companion’s energy, Xiao turned back to Chongyun.

“Let’s just ignore them and get away from here, they’re doing this on purpose, they just want to provoke us,” he whispered next to Chongyun’s ear.

Chongyun gulped. His face was painted red all over and, if he had been a mortal, his heart would’ve been racing in his chest at that moment. Xiao felt a squeeze from Chongyun’s hand on his arm and guessed how flustered the blue-haired angel was.

Chongyun wouldn’t have had any qualms about leaving right away if the demons had been wrong about everything they’d said so far. But they weren’t.

The two demons burst into a fit of laughter at the same time.

“Oh, in the name of the Abyss Prince, just look at them! They’re so stupid, they haven’t even realized why they feel pulled towards one another,” the demon who looked like Chongyun exclaimed.

He wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes.

“Damn, guys, you’re really passing on an occasion. Did you know that Xiao has a huuuuge cock?” he added. “I mean, look at that bulge!”

Just as he spoke, he stroked the other demon’s crotch through his clothes, and the other hummed in satisfaction, canting his hips under the touch.

“And it just so happens that my darling right here has a mouth perfect for dick sucking, among other things,” the demon looking like Xiao added, grabbing the other demon’s chin and pulling his mouth open.

Without any care in the world, he shoved two fingers inside the blue-haired demon’s mouth, to which the demon replied by greedily licking and sucking on them.

Chongyun was standing there, speechless, and Xiao spoke into his ear again.

“Let’s go, I’ve seen enough,” he growled.

Chongyun snapped back to his senses.

“I… Yes, okay, let’s head back,” he said.

They both turned their backs to the demons and spread out their wings, ready to take flight.

“Oh no, look, honey, it seems like our little angelic guests already want to flee! We can’t let them get away with this, now, can we?” Xiao’s alter ego cooed. “The fun is only starting…”

“Got it,” the other demon replied.

The next moment, Xiao and Chongyun had to jump back to avoid getting slashed by the greatsword the demon waved in front of him. The air temperature dropped sharply, and the angels’ exhale produced mist in front of their mouths.

“Out of our way, hellspawn,” Xiao snarled, calling forth his jade polearm.

“Funny you should say that,” the Xiao double said from right behind the angel. “With the kind of blood you have on your hands, don’t you think that I should be the angel, and you the demon?” He let out a sinister cackle.

Chongyun moved behind Xiao, facing his companion’s red-clad lookalike.

“Careful, demons, you know our strength is equal. There’s no use in fighting,” the blue-haired angel declared.

“Yes, we may be matched in strength, but as for cunningness, we certainly are not,” the demon replied. “Be careful, you two, we just might be able to trick you.”

He smirked, and winked. Chongyun’s claymore materialized in his hands and he lowered his stance, waiting for the demon to attack. On the other side, Xiao and Chongyun’s demon glared at each other with eyes that could kill, silently observing each other, waiting for an opening to strike. As soon as the blue-haired demon moved to swing his blade, Xiao got ready to parry. They engaged in a fierce battle behind Chongyun, delivering hit for hit, without any sign that one of them was going to win over the other.

The noise of the struggle distracted Chongyun for a moment, and thus, he barely had the time to jump to the side to avoid his opponent’s spear. The demon used this opportunity to sneak much closer to Chongyun, grabbing him by the collar and knocking him off his feet. He then jumped on top of the blue-haired angel, holding him down with his spear across the throat.

“Hey, Chongyun, I should take you for myself, make you my little fucktoy, don’t you think? Since Xiao is too stupid and too much of a coward to take you…” the demon said, licking his lips.

“You’re dreaming, malignant spirit,” Chongyun uttered through clenched teeth.

He kicked his knee up into the demon’s stomach, knocking him off from him. While Xiao’s double was getting back up, Chongyun sprinted to Xiao, who was barely dodging the attacks from his opponent. Without a word, the blue-haired angel spread his wings and kicked the ground, and flew just above Xiao, grabbing his outstretched arm in the process and lifting him up in the air. Once they were out of sight of Wuwang Hill, Chongyun dropped Xiao down, and Xiao stretched his wings to fly alongside Chongyun.

Their trip back to the angel’s realm happened in a stunned silence, both of them too unsettled and confused by how the encounter went to dare speak up yet.

Once they finally settled down under a tree, sitting side-by-side, gazing far away into the horizon, only then did Xiao speak up.

“I’ve never heard of demons being this aggressive before,” he let out. “We’re not supposed to fight, it’s pointless.”

“I trust you on that one… you’ve hung around other angels for a long time before we met,” Chongyun replied, and his hand found Xiao’s.

“I have… I was waiting for you,” Xiao quietly said.

As he intertwined their fingers, Chongyun thought about their alter egos’ words. The sight of them making out on the grass had felt surreal. Deep down, the blue-haired angel knew that Xiao and himself were soulmates. There was no denying the pull they felt towards one another. It was magnetic. Most angels met their soulmate in the afterlife, that much was to be expected. But a soulmate could take on the role of a friend, of a sibling, of a parent, and, of course, of a lover.

And although they had spent all this time together, none of them had dared to make the first step towards making their relationship more than platonic.

Now that their demons had made it very obvious that this was a possible outcome for their relationship, the idea seemed almost repulsive to him. Wouldn’t it be the equivalent of giving their alter egos victory over them, to make their relationship more than friendship? Chongyun shuddered at the thought.

And yet, when he looked at Xiao, when he felt the warmth of his fingers between his own, when his eyes dived into the smouldering amber of Xiao’s eyes, Chongyun had to admit to himself that he had thought about kissing him.

He’d thought about it, and then abandoned the idea, because what if Xiao doesn’t want their relationship to be that way? What if they were only meant to be friends?

Chongyun wished that the mysterious entity who was in charge of all of this—angels, demons, soulmates, the structure of the universe, everything—had provided them with more than instinct to deal with all of this.

As naturally as the leaves fall down with the coming of colder months in the autumn, Chongyun’s head fell onto Xiao’s shoulder, his eyes still lost on the horizon. In front of them rolled the grassy, soft hills of this corner of the angel’s realm. Trees grew behind them, forming a dense forest, and the singing of birds and the soft rustling of the wind through the tree’s leaves filled the air. There was nothing but peace, nothing but softness to be found in this realm, and yet, Chongyun’s mind was filled with confusing thoughts brought about by their arch nemeses. They had introduced chaos in their blissful retreat, and for that, the blue-haired angel could not repress a hint of anger.

Xiao wished he could ignore it, too. He knew, deep down, that what he felt for Chongyun was more than friendship, more than a family bond. But he was in no hurry to explore that, since they had all of eternity to fall in love. He wanted to discover Chongyun piece by piece, to learn every corner of his soul, patiently. But their encounter with the demons had casted a seed of doubt in his mind. Xiao had never been one to be forthcoming with his feelings, but perhaps taking his time was a waste, since he knew what the outcome would be, in any case.

He looked down at Chongyun, at the crown of icy blue hair, soft against his bare shoulder, and sighed. Why did it have to matter that their demons teased them about taking their time? Why did it have to matter that they handled their relationship how they saw fit? Just because their demons were very obviously much more than friends didn’t mean that Xiao and Chongyun had to be more than friends right away.

Plus, just because the Sustainer had intended for their demons to be romantic soulmates didn’t mean they had the same plan for Xiao and Chongyun.

But… There was little doubt in Xiao’s mind that this was what the Sustainer had intended. The flutters in his stomach when his gaze crossed the crystalline purity of Chongyun’s eyes, or when the other angel leaned against him like this, or when their fingers intertwined like it was the most natural thing in the world, none of it could lie.

And so, when Chongyun sat up to ask Xiao if he was okay, sensing the trouble within his heart, it was a bittersweet smile that painted itself on Xiao’s lips.

“I’m fine… it’s just…”

“They… they were right.”

“Yes. But… it doesn’t mean that we have to be like them,” Xiao said.

“No, it doesn’t,” Chongyun said, and he smiled.

He took in a sharp inhale before continuing.

“But… I still want to kiss you. And I know that it’s giving them—”

Chongyun could not finish his sentence, not as Xiao leaned forward and closed the space between them in a soft, warm kiss.

“It doesn’t matter what it’s giving them. This is us, it’s none of their business,” he huffed, softly cupping Chongyun’s cheek.

Chongyun’s face had heated up a few degrees, his cheek now feeling warmer than usual under Xiao’s fingers.

“Y-yes but… a-are you…” Chongyun mumbled, trying to get a hold on himself.

“Sure about this? Yes.”

The blush on Chongyun’s face was renewed, and Xiao let out a light chuckle. They were definitely quite different from their demons. Time had little meaning to angels, yes. But it was because they had so much of it that they could afford to take things slow, to savour every bit of the pleasure of falling in love gradually, to learn each other’s mind patiently like a map, one street, one avenue at a time.

“Okay,” Chongyun murmured, and he laid his overheated cheek back against Xiao’s shoulder as he leaned against him once again.

There was not much to add, for everything left unsaid would eventually be said, when the time would be right.

If you liked this, please leave a Kudos on ao3! And you can also comment there, I read and reply to every comment. :)

[holicanth]

Hanging On Threads (2)

@shinoweek​ 2021 Prompt 3 - Sunset/Canon Divergence

Words: 3.7k

Genre: Angst. Drama. Shinohina. Tragedy

Warnings: -

Additional Tags: Shinohina, Kibahina, Naruhina, family issues, Konoha’s noble clans, nepotisme and collusion.

Author’s Note: I’m so sorry y’all. I’ve been extra busy :( Here’s chapter 2 (?) of my Shino week series. I hope you have a great day :)

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

It has been 3 days since Shino disappeared from the Aburame compound.

It has also been 3 days since the Konoha elders re-welcomed the Aburames and reintegrated them into society.

Ever since, Shino has been staying at ROOT, hiding undercover while waiting for Danzo's orders.

And with that, Shino is handed the dreadful task of explaining every little detail to Torune.

 "I just can't understand your logic, Shino." He says, clenching his fists on the table. "You should know better than to just run away from home like that!" 

"What do you think you'll achieve with this?" Torune grits his teeth, "You cant escape this--there's no way Danzo will let you out anymore!"

 Guilt that has previously bubbled inside him was now gone. Shino felt close to nothing as he stays cooped in ROOT. No fear. No anxiety. He was obviously feeling full of himself, believing to have won his side of the bargain. As such, none of Torune's words were ringing bells inside his head. 

Shino tries to keep his facade well-put.

"How is Uncle Shibi taking the news?"

"I've sent some beetles to Father. I can tell he's doing well even without me. Nothing else will change in the household." 

"Not until," Shino's words come to a startled halt. "Until I finish my promise to Danzo."

His brother bangs the table in a display of panic that Shino has never seen. " You don't know what he'll do to you. Shino, you don't know anything..."

His words cut off abruptly. In a split second, Shino senses a tremble in Torune. A slight quiver of his lips. 

 Torune used to live with them, and had expressed massive gratefulness towards his uncle. Shino didn't realize at that time (he was but merely eight), that more than anything, Torune's sacrifice was addressed more towards Shibi. The boy would do anything to protect his uncle—you can see it in the way he devotes himself to his work.

A kindred sort of regret rose in Shino. To think that  he had so easily thrown away the ideal life that Torune had bestowed upon him—and voluntarily at that. 

But both of them know that there is no safer alternative. 

(It's an inevitable fate, they console themselves. It is a necessary sacrifice.)

 "I had to do it for our clan." Shino repeats the fact to his brother. "We were to be killed soon enough. And it would have been Father first."

Shino's eyes flit nervously as he spoke. 

"And who do you think would pull the trigger, Shino?"

Torune didn't ask why. Like he knew all of the details already. 

Shino glanced around the room, thinking. He already knows the answer. Rather, he's trying to figure out how to word it in a manner that doesn't...offend Torune.

 (Shino could list all the names of the ANBU members that have been in contact with particular individuals. Journalists, Governors, Clan heads, people of high posistions. Their agenda was blatant. Shino knows because their names have been whispered in contemplation throughout the Aburame compound.)

"The jonins," Shino says, in a hushed voice. "The jonins will work together with the ANBU. The Sarutobi clan will be extremely involved too."

There is a pattern Shino notices in Konoha's history. It's that the types of people who reign over the village are identical and identifiable amongst each other. A teacher to their student, A blood relative to their predecessor. Lesser clans would do anything to grab ahold of that social circle. 

Replacing an unliked noble clan would be one of such tasks.

 Torune listens keenly, in a hum that neither denies or confirms it. 

 "Not only that," He resumes, "There seems to be equal participation from other clans. Such as the Nara. You know they've been looking to steal our research on bugs."

"They're especially interested in yours, Torune."

He doesn't oblige. Torune was aware of this well before he came to ROOT, too. Fear and suspense were not things Torune had to be worried about. But today, he finds that he had to face it--the abject horror of seeing his little brother in a hostage situation. The pure fear of knowing how hopeless he is engulfs him. Was there nothing that Torune can do?

 (A shinobi must constantly opress their emotions, follow a strict set of rules that they decide among themselves, and avoid extraneous conflict.

This was the first lesson Danzo had stamped inside Torune's memories. 

To disconnect oneself from the act of murder—it was the essence of a shinobi.

Or so Torune thought.)

 "I was to be sent as well, Shino." Torune looks down as he breaks the ice. "They want us gone because of our power. Of our potential. They'll take our knowledge and use it to their own benefit. All the research, medicine, poisons and bugs."

 (The Aburames are notorious for being mysterious. All done in order to conceal oneself, to prevent oneself from having their secret techniques outed in public. Ensuring, that they stay formidable, underestimated,

 and strong.)

 "You heard Danzo say it. They think we're weird. Unsanitary. Off-putting. That our secrecy is a form of betrayal, even when we've been constantly obedient to Konoha."

"And will you die as well?" Shino asks cautiously, "After you've killed all of us, will they dispose of you too, Torune?"

A sorrow smile lit up Torune's face. There was, again, no answer. Shino knows—No, he had plenty of ideas already. Torune’s predisposition was already a valid enough reason for Konoha to justify his death. Killed or not, there are many ways to make a man break. Danzo would have his merry time trying out which one of those methods satisfy him best.

What Konoha was capable of bringing unto the Uchiha was just as likely to happen to the Aburames.

(This exchange ended on a heavy note. Nothing Shino says will add or subtract from the issue at hand. Just a hanging air of dread, looming over their clan's future. Both of them did what they had to preserve their clans. To protect those important to them.

 But this sense of kinship—to protect those that they love. Is it not what Konoha preaches to their young, too?

Or was it the reason that Konoha wants to tear apart the Aburame family ties?)

A knock on the wooden door brings an end to the brothers' conversation. The Yamanaka boy comes in, head held high. 

"Lord Danzo has requested for you, Shino Aburame. Come along, now." 

Shino leaves Torune in the room. Torune knows best that he should not interfere lest he wants to live a day beneath the soil.

 It can be said that ROOT was an illegal form of bodyguards, acting as Danzo's personal squadron. A blatant display of political corruption, despite Danzo’s "fancy" position as Konoha's elder. The facility was well maintained, and there was never a shortage of child soldiers sent there. The clan leaders know Danzo as a demanding figure. 

 The Yamanaka boy—Fuu  Yamanaka stops to knock at a set of tall doors. Shino stops to ponder whether he was related directly to Ino Yamanaka.

An oddly lit room opens up by Shino, displaying machines, scrolls, and different books that are perfectly arranged inside the giant walls of bookshelves. Danzo stood in the center, on a throne chair that he does not deserve.

"You may leave now, Fuu." He spoke in a low tone. 

 Something in Shino buzzes as he watch the Yamanaka eye him begrudgingly while he closes the door. The buzzing didn't stop after he went out.

(His bugs were reacting to something. A feeling that Shino doesn't want to name)

 "You. You're the son of Shibi Aburame, aren't you?" Danzo sneers, "So the Aburames have a dojutsu now, huh? What a nuisance. What, is your dojutsu like the Uchiha's? Prompted by deep emotional pain?"

 (Shino feels the buzzing again. His bugs were on guard, but for what?)

 "Does Shibi have this ability, too?"

"No." Shino spouts a half-lie. 

"And how did you get your hands on this? Are you saying that it just appeared out of nowhere?"

Danzo was gauging for answers. Shino was never good at communication himself, but he was naturally gifted in speaking conspicuously

"It was always in the Aburame blood. Just forgotten through time. Nothing new."

"And you vermins have been hiding this to yourselves, haven't you? Yet you wonder why Konoha has no trust in you."

"The other clans have aces up their sleeves, too. It's why they call it a Hidden Jutsu."

Shino didn't mean to sound snark. But Danzo himself might not have the mental intelligence to understand sarcasm, so Shino thinks it's okay. 

"So this dojutsu of yours—The Senrigan—tell me how this is more useful than the Byakugan."

 Shino bit his tongue before answering. Once more, he'll have to cherry-pick his words exceptionally well. 

"I transfer my sight to my bugs. Depending on how many bugs there are and how they're aligned, my sight can reach other countries."

"The Senrigan requires one to be perfectly still, but the bugs can collect all sounds, sights, and other details without having their chakra traced. Hiding my chakra under the bug's natural chakra will make them unnoticed by sensors"

 Danzo squints his eye, thinking. "Quite the useful spying tool, huh." 

"Still, we need to make sure you're telling the truth. Take off your glasses."

Shino was taken aback from the sudden request, 

 "Now."

 He does as he's told. The sunglasses are safely kept in his pockets. Shino's eyes were dark under the sunlight, and an even deeper shade of obsidian indoors.

"Let's have you demonstrate your Senrigan, shall we? I've sent Fuu to loiter around Konoha's busy streets. Locate him using the senrigan, and tell me every word he's speaking."

And without further ado, Shino created some hand seals, took a deep breath, and a swarm of kikaichu flew out of his body, travelling through the doors and crevices of the ROOT headquarters before dispersing overground. The emerald hue of Shino's eyes looked stunning in the dark. 

 Even from a distance, Danzo can sense an intricate, huge web of chakra dispersing from the boy's body, Undulating, stretching outwards, and going back and forth between Shino's body and his bugs. Then, as if on command, the chakra fell silent and Shino lets out a long exhale. He's successfully established the connection. 

 As Shino stills his senses to callibrate himself to the beetles, he orders them to trace any signs of the familiar Yamanaka chakra signature. He steadily reduces his chakra input. When a preferable balance is reached, Shino waits in silence. Until a bug notifies him of any significant clues

 (Go to the streets. He instructs them. Hover around in small swarms and don't terrify the people. 

A short pause. Don't bump into anyone that I know, He commands again.)

 Danzo watches as the Aburame in front of hin froze into a lotus pose. The stare in his eyes blank, but definitely buzzing with intel and chakra. There is much to be studied with this new forbidden jutsu.

 Shino is notified of a sighting near Konoha's marketplace. He checks in with the bug, and once their visions link he can tell that the person had the same chakra signature. 

"I've located him." Shino said. "He's using a mask and brown cloak, performing jutsus to the local children."

 "And what is he saying?" 

 Shino tries to concentrate as hard as he can. The hand seals that Fuu was using was something he didn't recognize. Apparently memorizing while the Senrigan is activated proved to be more dizzying than he thought.

"Tori, Uma, Ne, Inu, Ne, Tori, Hitsuji, Tatsu, I, Ushi..." Shino recites slowly, making sure that he isn't wrong. "This is a variant of the Water-style technique. He's forming water spouts from his fingers."

 That's absolutely correct, Fuu signals to Danzo, who had been telepathically communicating with him all this time.

"Well done, Shino. You've proven to us that you and your clan can be of use."

And with that Shino scrunches his eyes shut. A little bit disoriented from having to memorize while using the Senrigan. His beetles swiftly fly back to him, bringing him a small amount of chakra they absorbed from the villagers.

 "I've done my part in reintegrating the Aburames. Give me a month and things will be back to normal. Are you ready to fulfill your side of the promise?" Danzo asked, as he stood up from his chair.

Shino gulps nervously. He didn't really plan out what to do next. But Shino was a master at lying, and with a countenance that no one can read, he was indecipherable.

 "Why did you want us gone in the first place?" Shino asks, not realizing that he had voiced the thoughts out loud.

Danzo Shimura was a man who took the Second Hokage's manifesto to heart. Perhaps a bit too much. Shino had suspected, backed with the evidence and observation of his clansmen, that Danzo was pulling strings that led to the Uchiha massacre. It was easy to connect the dots, especially with Shibi and Shino's ability (they were tasked to clean it up. Shibi was fast in doing so, while Shino tended to the unconscious Sasuke.)

From the very formation of Konoha, the Aburame clan was in charge of the most tedious work. Often times having to deal with the brunt of it while Konoha lives scott-free. Border patrols, cleaning up after crimes, interrogation. The Aburames are efficient, but this efficiency ultimately lead to their public consternation.

"You Aburames are skilled, I must admit." Danzo's croaked voice echoed through the chamber. "So much so that any village would want to use you as weapons."

"And that's all there is to it, really. You bunch are too strong. Too skilled. There's too many unknown factors. The higher-ups have agreed to eliminate these threats. After all, Konoha prides itself in being a friendly nation. Your blood brings filth to our soil."

 Shino knows that there is a lie slipped between those words. Danzo was not a friendly type of leader.

 "The Four Noble Clans of Konoha are in need of a change. The Uchihas have proven to be evil. It is in Konoha's best interest to discard the bad, and salvage whatever is left. Haven't you noticed? The only reason we keep the Akimichi is because they're dumb enough to be controlled by the Nara and Yamanaka. And the Hyuuga's reputation are held at our mercy. You're smart enough to figure the rest." Danzo says, walking to approach Shino.

What?

Did he hear his words right? The Akimichi clan? All along, Shino had thought that the lucky title of a 'Noble Clan' are given to clans who had body modifications that cannot be replicated by other ninjas. To think that his fellow team had such a scheme hanging around their backs...Shino wants to believe that Team 10's friendship is genuine.

"Tomorrow," Danzo says, patting the chuunin's back, "You will be promoted as Jonin and will be registered as a member of the ANBU. Of course, that's a lie. Because tomorrow I will personally have you run... special errands for me."

Shino gulped. He didn't like the close proximity.

"Make sure you say your goodbyes today. You'll be listed as dead for security reasons."

 And with that, Shino is let out of the facility. He finds himself pondering aimlessly on a nearby park bench. Autumn has turned the Konohagakure into a beautiful display of warm colors. The trees looked like they've been covered in a rich, velvet cloak and the air was sublime. Shino wonders how long it'll be till he can bask in this scenery again.

 First, he'd visit his father. Then, he'd visit his other family members. After that he'll visit...no one. How could Shino bear to look at his friend's faces after resolving so adamantly to despise them? After convincing himself that they've forgotten him. 

(And Shino still hopes. He hopes that somehow someone will notice eventually.)

But he supposes he'll finish his priorities first. Evade a civil war, restore his clan's honor, and the rest will be his secondary concerns. It is dire that he doesn't get emotional, especially in the current state Konoha is in.

 He looks at the children, playing games under a nearby tree. They were too young for the academy, of course, but if they were old enough to attend, would they all turn out like him? Cold and efficient? 

Shino thinks that he used to be a perfectly good student. A good ninja, but perhaps not so good as a friend. One can see plenty of differences between Shino and the rambunctious Naruto, but do they realize how much he envies his cheerful personality?

(And Shino envies him so much. He's taken the attention of the girl he favors. And now, he has taken everyone's attention away from Shino's disappearance.

 Naruto had outshined Shino. As if Shino was a shadow that should not exist.)

He's had enough of the pointless thoughts. It was almost noon and Shino has to hurry home if he wants to say proper goodbyes.

 But a shrill bark had frozen him to his seat.

 "Akamaru, calm down!" A familiar voice shouted.

 Shino jolted at the sound. It was coming from behind him. He senses two people walking by, and a dog beside them. Shino was already certain of who they were. 

 "Akamaru, what's wrong boy? You shouldn't be barking at strangers." The man—Kiba himself said, as he crouched to rub Akamaru's head.

"Maybe he sees someone, Kiba-kun? I don't think anyone's back home from missions..." Hinata replied, looking around the park.

 Oh heavens. If there was anyone who Shino would avoid the most, it'd be these two—Hinata  and Kiba. He doesn't want to face them. He doesn't even want to be near them. Alas, everytime Shino denies this thought his heart urges him more and more. To simply turn to them. To tell them everything.

(But who was it really who had decided to forget about him in the first place? No one had bothered to ask where he went after the Chuunin exams.)

 Akamaru's barking turned into a soft whine. The canine was visibly confused.

Shino has yet to move from his spot at the bench.

 "Come on now. No one is here. You've mistaken him for someone else, buddy." Kiba says, sounding a little harsh for someone who claims to be Akamaru's partner.

 (Shino wanted to burst out laughing. Doubting a ninja dog's nose? Especially one who has worked with Shino for years? Kiba was a bad liar.

See, even Akamaru notices! Shino thinks to himself, proud to have concluded that the fault was theirs all along.)

 Akamaru still whines when Kiba motions him away from Shino's bench. 

"Why are you being so difficult today?!" Kiba grunts, frustrated. "Come on Akamaru, you don't want to upset Hinata on our date!"

 Oh.

 Oh.

 So it’s like that, huh.

 "K-Kiba-kun! Please don't shout in public..." Hinata whimpers, fiddling her thumbs together.

And with a little nudge, Akamaru finally moves on with them. The couple enjoying the beauty of Konoha's Autumn, oblivious to everything behind it.

 It took minutes. Hours, even for Shino to compose himself enough to process the ordeal.  

 And those hours were filled with empty pondering. With words that were on the tip of falling out of his mouth. With feelings that he had not been brave enough to admit before. With the eternal, everlasting regret of not speaking up.

But there was nothing he could do.

A shinobi must constantly suppress their emotions, follow a strict set of rules that they decide among themselves, and avoid extraneous conflict

 This is for the best. he repeats to himself. Hinata would be better off without him, he thinks.

(But he could have made her happy too. He would've given everything for her.)

 A stroll to wash off these thoughts. Yes, Shino thinks that all he needed was to cool his head, shrug it off, and return to his obligations tomorrow. The warm glow of sunset was eager to mask his unease.

The sunset was particularly shy that day, and had swiftly sank to allow the moon to greet him instead. It's already past six o,clock. He knows that he needs to greet his family, but Shino's distraught conscience told him to look at the sky. The moon was still as luminous as usual.

 Shino had always known how beautiful the moon is. How beautiful its pearly shimmer is. 

(How gentle her eyes were, radiating such a serene, pure love)

 And like an opened dam, suddenly Shino feels his chest aching. Like a hole had opened inside him--one that he can't touch nor see. A hole that, no matter how hard Shino tries, would always engulf him in rain. In a downpour that feels like a thousand needles showering on him.

It feels like such a distant memory. Months ago they were still fine. Hinata was still his comrade. And now, she's floating further away from his grasp.  Was there no more space for Shino in her heart?

 (But Shino was a fool to believe—

 A firefly can't love the moon.

 Its language can't be heard,

Its wings can't reach the sky,

Its light can't compare to the sea of stars.

 It can only do what a firefly does best.

 Illuminate the night in its own glow. 

A token of a love that falls on deaf ears.)

 By the time Shino reaches the Aburame compound, his tears were already dry. Shibi waits for him near the estate gates, and without speaking a word, held his son in a deep embrace. A fitting greeting for a child who's always been forced to grow up before his time.

Shino was going to stay the night in the estate. Saying goodbyes and packing things up. Of course, no further information would be given—everyone was in a state of wary due to the constant supervision.

He had to console them the best he can. Explain the situation. Share his insights. Assure them that this is his job as the Aburame heir. And for that, he would do everything in his capacity to make sure his loved ones don't perish.

 A night is never enough to tell stories. By tomorrow morning, Shibi would have said goodbye to two sons.

[hopelikethemoon]

The Shop (Javier x Reader) {MTMF} [smut]

Title: The Shop Rating: Explicit  Length: 3000 Warnings:  Smut (Discussion of sex toys and other sex-related topics, and a heavy dose of smooching and rough sex) Notes: You can find the Maybe Today, Maybe Forever Timeline here. Set December 1997. Starts with Javier POV and shifts to Reader’s. Two-part two adventure. Summary: Javier returns to the shop. 

Taglist:  @grapemama  @seawhisperer @huliabitch @pedropascalito @rogrsnbarnes @thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns @gooddaykate @livasaurasrex @ham4arrow @hiscyarika @plexflexico @readsalot73 @hdlynn @lokiaddicted @randomness501 @fioccodineveautunnale  @roxypeanut @just-add-butter @snivellusim @amarvelousmandalorian @lukesrighthand @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @exrebelshocktrooper @awesomefandomsunited @ah-callie​ @swhiskeys @lady-tano @beskar-droids @space-floozy @cable-kenobi @longitud-de-onda @cool-ultra-nerd @himbopoes @findhimfives @pedrosdoll @seeking-a-great--perhaps @frietiemeloen @arrowswithwifi @random066 @uncomicalhumour @heather-lynn @domino-oh-damn @cyarikaaa @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​ (if I forget to tag you, I’m sorry)

Javier tapped his thumb against the steering wheel as he stared across the street at the shop. He felt like he was sitting on a stakeout, sitting there waiting for someone to come out. But in reality, he was waiting to get the courage to go inside. It hadn’t been so bad when he went in with her. No. It had been fucking nervewracking. 

What if one of his students saw him going into a sex shop? How would he ever live that down? 

Christmas was right around the corner and he wanted to get something new. And considering what came from the last trip to the sex shop — he had a good feeling about this venture. And this time he wanted more of the focus to be on her. Sure, she was an active participant in the… pegging, but he wanted to do something for her. 

And that was the only reason he managed to get himself out of the car and into the shop. For her. 

“Good afternoon sir!” Rocky said cheerily from behind the counter. “How can I help you tod—” He clasped his hands together. “Welcome back! Satisfied with your previous purchase?”

Javier swallowed thickly, shoving his hands into his jacket pocket. “You could say that.” He cleared his throat, looking away nervously. “I’m looking for something for her this time.” 

“I see.” He nodded, pursing his lips thoughtfully. “What are you thinking of?”

Javier glanced towards the door. He could still run. 

“I don’t know.” He admitted with a shrug. “Outside of her, um… vibrator, we haven’t really explored much with.” Javier gestured towards the aisles of toys. 

Rocky crossed his arms across his chest, canting his head to the side as he regarded Javier. “You’re very uncomfortable with all of this, aren’t you?” 

“You could tell?” Javier cracked a faint smile, nodding his head slowly. “Our last purchase was our first real exploring outside of the ‘norm’.” 

“There are no norms. It’s about what you’re comfortable with.” Rocky explained, “I don’t want to assume anything about your relationship, but neither of you struck me as the vanilla type.” 

Javier scratched at the back of his neck, “You could say that, I guess.” 

“Come with me,” Rocky waved his hand, urging Javier to follow him down one of the aisles. Javier glanced at the shelves, feeling somewhat scandalized by what he saw. He never had a problem going into brothels in Colombia — but there was something about being in a sex shop that made him want to crawl into a hole and die. 

It was probably that Texas upbringing, like she’d teased. 

“And roleplay is entirely out?” Rocky questioned, nodding his head towards a display of costumes that were clearly designed for sex. 

“Yeah.” Javier nodded. “Not really our thing.” 

“Then I really think toys are going to be your best bet,” He stopped walking, gesturing towards the shelf. 

What the hell was he doing there? 

Javier had stared down the barrel of guns, but there was something truly unsettling about staring at a display of neon on colored dildos styled to look like cocks. Shit, he couldn’t wait to tell her about this. If he didn’t go with something, she wasn’t going to believe he’d actually gone by himself. 

“Personally, I’m not really looking for something to uh,” He gestured to a toy that seemed obscenely large. “Compete with.” 

“Understood.” Rocky nodded, looking back at the display then. “Have the two of explored a little rear entry?”

“You gotta say it like that?” Javier huffed, his hands going to his hips. “Yeah. We’ve been doing it for years.” He shrugged. “Why?”

“You could always spice things up,” Rocky pointed to one of the toys that was advertised as a Booty Rocket. 

“Jesus Christ.” Javier swore under his breath, rocking from his heels to the balls of his feet. “What did I say about not wanting to compete.” 

“Oh, no! No.” He shook his head, “This has the potential to be quite fun for both of you.” He picked up the book and showed it to Javier. “You insert this into—”

“Yep.” Javier cut him off. 

“I have heard from many satisfied couples who have used this, or one of the similar toys, in tandem with regular intercourse. I understand the vibrations are quite pleasurable for both participants.”

Javier blinked slowly, his jaw dropping a little as he realized what Rocky was saying. Oh. “I see. Well, you didn’t lead us astray last time.” 

Rocky grinned. “You would not believe how many couples I have helped. I call it a gift.” 

“Yeah, alright.” Javier clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Wrap it up like one.” He hesitated, “And thank you.” 

“It’s no problem at all.” Rocky assured him as he headed back towards the counter. Javier lingered for a second, his eyes wandering over the display warily with a shake of his head. Things certainly hadn’t been dull since she stepped into his life. 

 ————

 “It’s not Christmas yet,” You remarked as you spotted a neatly wrapped box sitting at the foot of the bed. “Javi, what’s this?”

“You’ve got to open it.” Javier smirked as he shut the bedroom door behind him. “Otherwise you’re not going to believe where I was today.” 

“Where were you today?” You questioned, shaking the box curiously. It wasn’t like you didn’t already know what he’d gotten you for Christmas. You had been there when he’d picked the bracelet out at the jewelry store. 

That was going to be the closet you ever got to letting a man pick out a piece of jewelry for you. As it was, the jeweler had been so coy with his remarks about, “Wouldn’t you rather pick out a sparkling diamond ring?” No, you just wanted the platinum bracelet that matched Javier’s ring. And you wanted your daughters’ birthdays engraved into it. 

But that wasn’t this. That gift was already wrapped and under the Christmas tree, alongside the fountain pen Javier had been dying for. Mostly because Connie had gotten Steve a similar one for his birthday a few months back. 

Javier joined you at the foot of the bed, looking far too pleased with himself for it to be any normal type of gift. You gave him a curious look before you started to peel the paper off. 

“Oh my God.” You laughed as you read the name on the box. “Are you serious, Javier?”

“Serious as a heart attack.” Javier retorted. “You would’ve been proud of me.” 

You cupped his cheek, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his lips. “I’m always proud of you, but holy shit.” You laughed again, tearing off the rest of the paper and tossing it on the floor. “This is probably the last thing I would’ve expected from you, Javi.” 

Javier shrugged, “I even had a whole conversation with Rocky.” 

“And you didn’t die? The earth didn’t swallow you whole?” You pinched his side.

“Ow! What the fuck?” He rubbed at the spot. 

“Just checking to see if you’re corporeal.” 

“Fuck off.” He rolled his eyes, before gesturing to the toy. “Do you like it?”

You looked back down at the product. “Aside from the name — Booty Rocket, really? — I like it.” Your eyes wandered over the back of the packaging. “Ten speeds? Seven is enough to kill me with my vibe.” You laughed, shaking your head. 

“Rocky seemed to think it would be something we’d both enjoy.” Javier nervously cleared his throat. “He suggested that it could be used during… regular sex.” 

Your brows shot upwards, “Wait, so you and the toy?” You looked back down at the neon purple rocket in your hands, before looking back at Javier. “I am very into that idea.” 

“Really?” He honestly seemed relieved. “After… what we explored, I wanted to try something that was more about you, baby.” Javier pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, giving you a look. 

You leaned in and kissed him again, letting your lips linger against his. “That sounds like heaven to me.” You whispered, sitting the toy aside on the bed as you slid your fingers through his hair. “I can’t believe you went in there alone, Javi.” You actually giggled against his lips. 

“I nearly left.” He admitted, snaking his arm around your waist and pulling you closer. “But I knew if I came home empty-handed, you wouldn’t have believed me.”

You bumped your nose against his, “You’re not wrong.” You never would’ve pictured Javier going into that shop again — with or without you. He had been so painfully uncomfortable the first time, you were certain he was not going to go for anything inside. You had been pleasantly surprised, twice now. 

“I figured.” Javier ran his hand up your back. “Do you really like it, baby?”

“I love it.” You promised him. “And I love that you went back there.” 

He shrugged, “I only went for you.”

“Really?”

Javier nodded. “I wanted to get something where the focus was on you.” 

You bit down on your bottom lip, “You’re sweet.” 

“Don’t let anyone know.” He teased, resting his hand on your knee and giving it a squeeze. 

“I think it might already be out.” You laughed, scooting back on the bed. “Come here.” You nudged at his back with your foot as you sank back against the pillows. He smirked at him as you met his gaze. 

Javier moved up the bed towards you until he was hovering above you. “You think that secret’s out?”

You nodded, running your fingers over his forearms as he pressed his palms into the mattress at your shoulders. “Mhm.” You hummed as you trailed your foot up the back of his leg. “You kiss too many boo-boos to be anything other than sweet, Javi.” You reminded him as you combed your fingers through his hair.

Javier dipped down to kiss you, nipping at your bottom lip before he pulled back to meet your gaze. He brushed his knuckles against your cheek, “What can I say? I love my girls.” 

“And we love you.” You whispered, trailing your fingers down the back of his neck before stroking them over the column of his throat. “I can’t tell what I enjoy more…” You pursed your lips thoughtfully as you looked up at him. “When you punch someone for talking shit about us or when you’ve let Josie put bows in your hair.” 

“Still thinking about Laredo?” He questioned as you brushed your thumb over his Adam’s apple.

You bit down on your bottom lip, nodding your head. “I’m still thinking about when you decked Chris too.” You admitted as your foot skimming over the back of his leg again, before your leg wrapped around his hip. “You get this fiery look in your eyes.” You told him, “It’s hot.”

Javier chuckled, tracing his thumb over your bottom lip. “You like that, huh?” He questioned, leaning down to kiss you. His tongue slid over your bottom lip, before he caught it between his teeth with just enough pressure to make you hiss. “You like it when I’m rough. Don’t you baby?” 

“Yes.” You breathed out, fingers tightening in the fabric of his shirt as you arched up against him. “I love it.” 

He pressed a line of kisses along your jaw, trailing his mouth down your throat, his tongue darting out against your skin. He shifted above you, letting more of his weight press you into the mattress and you relished the closeness. 

You grabbed at the back of his t-shirt, trying to drag it up his back. Fingers greedy for the bare skin that was revealed. A soft moaned escaped you as he nipped at your earlobe, his breath hot against your ear. “Javi.”

Javier rolled his hips forward, the fabric of his jeans rough against your bare thighs where your sleep shorts had road upwards. His gaze flickered in the direction of his recent purchase. “Do you—“ 

“No.” You shook your head, leaning up to kiss him. “I just want you.” 

Need burned straight through you as his tongue slipped past your lips, sweeping against your own as he kissed you. His hand moved to grap at your hip, fingers digging into the soft flesh there. The kiss broke only long enough for you to peel his shirt over his head, before discarding it over the side of the bed. 

His mouth claimed yours again, your fingers curling around the back of his neck as he rocked into you. You could feel his cock straining against the front of his jeans, the hard length of his cock grinding against the thin fabric of your shorts and underwear. But it wasn’t enough. You wanted more. 

You tugged at his hair, pulling him back as you drew in ragged breaths. “Are you going to tease me or are you going to fuck me, Javier?” You questioned, baiting him into action. 

Javier caught your jaw roughly, even as his thumb soothed over your cheek. “Roll over.” He ordered you, before he released his hold on you and sat back on his knees. 

You looked up at him with a smirk, “Make me.” 

“Now.” He drawled out as he jerked his belt from its belt loops, tossing it aside. 

“No.” You pressed your shoulders back against the mattress and arched your back, your eyes flickering downwards as you watched him unzip his jeans. 

“You’re really pushing your luck tonight, baby.” Javier said lowly as he grabbed your leg, running his hand up your thigh as he leaned forward again. His mouth slanting against yours far too briefly before he pulled back, “Roll over. Now.” 

You huffed, shoving at his chest to give yourself room to move as you submitted to his request. His lips moved to the crook of your neck and you couldn’t help but smile, reaching back to rake your fingers through his hair. “You don’t have to go easy on me, babe.” You reminded him. 

His fingers curled loosely around your throat, his lips close to your ear. “Who said anything about easy?” Javier questioned, his fingers splaying out against your throat. “On your knees.” 

You complied, fueled by the way he tightened his grip on your throat when you hesitated. Javier tugged your shorts and underwear down your ass, leaving them bunched around your thighs as he moved above you. “Fuck.” You hissed out as you felt his cock brush against your skin. 

“Is that what you wanted, baby?” He whispered against the shell of your ear as he slid the head of his cock between your slick folds, teasing you. “I wanna hear you say it.” 

A moan rose up in the back of your throat, “Yes.” 

Javier sat back on his knees, curling his arm around the middle for support as he kept his fingers wrapped around your throat, guiding you back against his chest. “You’re so fucking wet, baby.” He drawled out, dragging his cock over your sensitive flesh. “Is this all for me?” He questioned, catching your earlobe and biting down gently as he pressed into you.

“Javi.” You hissed as the angle had his cock hitting all the right spots within you. You reached behind you and curled your fingers around the back of his neck. There was something you had always loved about this — half-dressed and desperate for each other. 

He pressed a tender kiss to the curve of your neck, his breath dancing over your skin as he exhaled. “You feel so fucking good, baby.” Javier said as he rolled his hips, his cock barely slipping from you before he was driving into you again.

Javier released his hold on your throat, his hand sliding down over your breasts through your shirt, before his hands grasped at your hips. He held you steady as he moved, fingers digging into the soft flesh there. 

You reached downwards, seeking out that little bundle of nerves between your thighs. “Harder.” You urged him as you circled your clit, your inner walls already fluttering as you felt your release starting to build. 

You were going to be bruised tomorrow and you were going to love every moment of it. It was winter and sweaters and trousers could hide a variety of sins. “Javi.” You gasped as he kept driving into that sweet spot. Again and again. 

“Come for me, baby.” Javier urged. There was something about the tone of his voice that went straight through you, stoking the flames in your veins. You arched back against his chest, crying out softly as your orgasm took hold. His hand replaced yours between your thighs, stroking his thumb over your clit as he slammed into you. 

Your body clenched around him, milking his own release from him. He stiffened, breathing heavily against your shoulder before he started rocking his hips, his pace uneven as he spilled out within you. 

Javier sat back on his legs, pulling you down onto his lap. His cock still buried within you. You sank against him, your still-clothed back pressed against his bare chest. “Holy shi— Fuck.” He muttered, rubbing lazy patterns over the tops of your thighs. 

“Ditto.” You breathed out with a quiet laugh, reaching behind you to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I love you.”

He slid his hands over your waist, pressing a line of kisses over your clothed shoulder. “I love you too.” Javier muttered, “Never cease to amaze me.”

“That’s just the sex talking,” You teased, shifting in his lap. “Let’s try it this weekend.” 

“Hmm?”

“Your gift.” You reminded him, tilting your head to look back at him. “Did you forget?” You questioned, brushing your fingers over his cheek as you turned enough to press a kiss to his lips. 

Javier rubbed his hand over your hip, “I might’ve been distracted.” He mumbled as he nuzzled at your neck. “Sounds like the weekend is gonna be fun,” He said as he rested his chin on your shoulder. 

“It always is.” You laughed softly as you sank back against him. 

[idealnreal]

Please overanalyze the shadows in his palace I am begging you.

@appleyjuiceboy​ / jester owns my braincells of course i would do this for u

Okay so i think its best if i go about the order of shadows we meet in the game so. I’m not going to go into the persona/shadows in maruki’s palace. I’ll leave that for some other day. Now! Lets hope i can remain fully coherent.

1) The fluffy haired noodle shadow we meet for (ka)sumi’s awakening

First off, look at the design of this shadow--it has the fluffy hair parted to the right like maruki, its androgynous figure, and that swirly face mask as well! The mask has two eyes, and it even looks like theres a smile there, lopsided. 

We have never seen any other palace shadow taking a similar shape as the palace ruler (except maybe the yaldaboath palace). Shadows are meant to emulate what the ruler thinks of as protectors of their heart. Maruki doesn’t trust anyone other than himself with this secret. And particularly at this phase of his distortion -- there are no scientists, to attendants, no patients. Just an empty, beautiful palace -- with possibly only one type of shadow and protector. The type that represents himself. 

(Also androgynous/nb maruki confirmed ?? yes)

Okay then lets look at what this shadow says to Kasumi.

Shadow: ... Heresy. You dare to spurn our lord’s mercy. Accept yourself... Our lord laments the foolishness birthed from your pain.

Having the context that Kasumi is Sumire here ... Because this scene comes about because Kasumi sees a cognitive version of herself (Sumire) blaming herself -- and so, a part of her is probably trying to remember that she is Sumire. Thus ‘spurn(ing) our lord’s mercy’. And yeah accepting herself as Kasumi instead of trying to remember that she is Sumire. 

But most important is the fact that Maruki’s palace shadows refer to him as a religious or god-like being (’our lord’s mercy’ calling back christian themes). Someone who is merciful and, most of all, does feel grief over one’s pain. Painting an ideal picture of a loving and caring god, ala abrahamic religions. This is a running theme with all the shadow’s dialogs. Let’s put a pin in this for now. 

These design shadows are seen again later in the container room of the palace. They’re slightly faster. The container room is a strange one -- because it doesn’t quite fit in with the rest of the laboratory/hospital/garden of eden thing going on.  While yes labs and hospitals do have storage areas, i cant imagine them being a container warehouse like this. I do headcanon that this is a storage area for the pain and suffering that Maruki has taken on from other people in order to heal them, due to his hyper empathy -- but i’ll analyse the room some other time. For now it’s interesting that the Maruki-like shadows are now relegated to this specific and really dark section of the palace.

Like the throne room/centre of eden that the Maruki boss fight takes place in -- He resigns himself to the darker gloomier parts of his palace. And the same goes for these shadows. This is where he belongs. 

Also abso-fucking-lutely we’re going to talk about how this shadow transforms when it ambushes you:

Skin suit opening up to reveal fangs and rows of teeth, and a formless monster inside. Maruki ... dude ... are you okay? If these shadows are meant to emulate him -- is this how he sees himself sometimes? HHh boy...

2) First lab coat wearing shadow at the start of his palace investigation

Prior to this, while we understood that Maruki was a researcher, it was never a defining feature of him. Like the first thing that came to my mind on Maruki was that he was just the school counsellor and snack purveyor. Now this entire researcher, scientist, side of him is in full display. And this is the most common type of shadow we see, some which are violent, and others are non violent. Maruki sees scientists as the main residents of his palace -- his drive towards investigation and discovery, to puzzling out the intricacies of the human heart, human mind, and human pain. To better further his ability to heal. But there’s also a sort of cold, methodical nature to these scientists. Their ‘healing’ is methodical, based in science.

This coupled with the religious reverence and ideology that their dialog suggests, is a nice contrast. Experiments, data, research, are people’s salvation. Not the simple belief of a deity or of a higher purpose -- but science. Science, in many ways, becomes part and parcel of their religious belief.

Shadow: Those guises ... You aren’t among those who desire salvation. Leave. You are unwanted intruders. Do not disturb our lord’s research-- this world’s salvation. Why do you willingly strive for self-suffering? Why are you reaching out to your own pain?

So here -- the shadow wants them to leave the palace well enough alone. To leave Maruki to his research, and to allow this reality to exist. They don’t want this to end violently and it seems like they’re okay with the trio not ‘desiring salvation’. And when the trio refuse to leave, the shadow asks them why they want to suffer. It’s something inconceivable to them. Maybe even challenging their resolve-- to reconsider their current path, which will only lead to more pain. Also ‘salvation’, ding, on the christian theme counter. Deliverance from above from sin, even redemption. Not for one person, but for the whole world. 

We see this type of shadow again before the scene in the auditorium. 

Shadow: You are misguided. Do not search for pain. Only tragedy awaits you beyond here. [After defeating it] Such a fool, rejecting our lord’s mercy. In that case -- witness it for yourself.

Same themes. Delicious. Lets move on now shall we.

3) Hastur -- the shadow that appears with Maruki at his reveal as his second-in-command / bodyguard

I don’t think i’ve talked about how much i love the lopsided smiles on these masks. Because i love it. it’s just the right amount of unsettling and creepy. fUCk. And the twitching, twisting, and the weeping blue paint that Hastur’s shadow form does before transforming is /chefs kiss. I wanted more.

Anyway, onto Hastur’s design. Not a labcoat this time, just an ordinary looking white suit with no tie. This is the only time we see Maruki have a bodyguard shadow -- something else he relies on. Hastur’s presence in this scene only shows how deeply afraid and uncomfortable Maruki actually is with intruders in his palace. This experience is a reminder that someone had come into Rumi’s parents house to kill him years ago (a theory for another time). Like that incident years ago, he doesn’t resort to violence here -- he did and does try to negotiate. But when that didn’t work, at least now he has something that can fight for him. 

( It is only in the second infiltration when we see Maruki actually take a more active role -- but I won’t get to that here. )

Hastur: Stubborn imbeciles, rejecting our lord ...

There is a running theme here, unfortunately. The shadows again cannot comprehend why anyone would choose to reject Maruki’s salvation, why anyone would choose suffering. And words like ‘foolish’ ‘misguided’ and finally ‘imbeciles’ here are all used to describe those who choose to reject it. While i do think Maruki only bends reality if the person wishes it (subconsciously or consciously), and does accept that there are people who won’t accept their wishes being granted and is aware of the reasons why-- He cannot fully understand or emphatise with it. 

4) These deformed Maruki-like shadows guarding the control room

Jesus christ above, i don’t like these, because they contrast with all other designs as these are more brutish and deformed. There’s used as gatekeepers at certain points of the palace, in the first control room, and later on in the brain-pod-room (my brain cells are stopping to work now excuse me) before the garden puzzle portion, at his final will seed and the entrance to the garden of eden.

We know Maruki isn’t a brute strength kinda person. And yet we see these few who’s only purpose is to defend certain things and areas with force. Its uncharacteristic, but at the same time, given the things that these shadows are defending -- it makes sense. No cunning, no wit, no negotiation, no compassion -- just forcefully defending very important parts of his heart and his work. 

Shadow (at the control room): So you dare defy His Excellency. You shall not interfere with our master’s work!

Shadow (brainwash room): Foolish rebels! You won’t take one step past here!

Shadow (entrance to garden of eden) : You?! I can’t believe you’ve made it so far ...

I had to do a double take on this. I think this is the only time this title ‘His Excellency’ has been used in the palace. While it is used for catholic bishops and that sort -- its mostly used in the context of heads of state, ambassadors-- more secular roles. The other times this shadow speaks is also similarly less reverent, less religious orientated. Of course this makes sense if the only function of these shadows is to use force to defend. They’re not the scientists or the first maruki-imitation shadows -- they’re not as devoted, and they dont have to be. 

5) Finally, these limbless noodles

This one is found during the horticulture portion of the palace. I can’t exactly figure out why. And as far as i can tell, they only appear in this portion of the palace.

As far as the design goes -- these are probably the most unhuman like. Slender, androgynous with only a mask. I’ve got nothing. Braincells ran out. Sorry!

(Haha androgynous maruki go brr)

SO! That’s it. thanks for coming to my ted talk and following me down this rabbit hole. I need to go and drink some fuckin tea. 

[maxparkhurst]

SHADOW’S WARMTH

It was cold outside. Winter’s frost fogged the stained-glass window and only shadows cast from the fragmented light broke the chamber’s monotonous sprawl. Despite all his layers, Augustine shivered. He adjusted the crate of potions in his arms, vials chiming in alarm, and followed his sister through the Cathedral’s entry arch. Their echoing footfalls heralded their path through the pews. His steps sounded far off, muted beneath the dull buzz in his head. Fatigue nestled itself in the space between his shoulder blades, sickly sweet as it pulled the muscles taut. It made his arms quake beneath the weight of their delivery. He wasn’t sure when this sudden case of shakes began or if it’d ever leave.

Augustine kept his gaze trained on the small of Max’s back. Unlike some, he found no solace in the home of the Light. If anything those cold, empty pews sent a shiver down his spine. To believe in fate written by a sole force was to revoke one’s own agency in the coming of destiny. If he were to believe in anything, he believed in their work and the help it’d provide to those less fortunate. Thus, instead of raising his eyes to the angelic depictions splayed on stained glass he turned to his mentor for guidance.

Max walked with the same composure she always possessed. Those unaccustomed to her measured smile and level voice found his sister to be enigmatic. They approached her with wary eyes and shifting feet. Such was the case with the deacon who met them half-way.

“Master Parkhurst.” He dipped his head to Max, wringing his hands within the trenches of his belled sleeves. A pleasant, albeit weary, smile touched his lips when he turned to Augustine. “And son?”

Augustine mustered a meager grin. He wondered if it looked as fake as it felt.

“Apprentice,” Max corrected. She inclined her head to the deacon as she breathed a laugh. There wasn’t any emotion placed in the gesture. As with most things, the laugh was for display only. Something to fill the silence and lighten the air. “It’s good to see you in good health, Brother Matthews.”

Brother Matthews shifted on his heels, sending ripples through the hem of his diaconal vestments. Augustine imagined those flowing robes should bring a modicum of comfort to his restless soul. Quite the contrary. The gentleman hardly filled them out. Only the knobs of his shoulders poked through the dense fabric. Everything else? Lost beneath yards of cloth.

The deacon doesn’t wear the robes, he drowns in them.

“As good as I can be in these troubling times,” Brother Matthews chittered, running his fingers through an already thinning hair line.

His scalp visible through wisps of hair startled Augustine. This deacon could only be a few years older than him. Yet here this gentleman stood with less hair than perhaps what he started with at the beginning of the year. Stress must’ve aged him. Augustine grimaced and stole a glance up at his own locks. Had he faith in some deity, he’d pray to keep his hair once everything finally settled.

“...the potions?”

Augustine blinked. In his tired stupor, he missed the deacon’s question. The beginnings of a crimson blush crept up his neck as he scrambled for an answer. Luckily, Max stepped in.

“Yes,” she mused, coaxing the crate from Augustine’s grip, “They are.” She adjusted it in her arms, rattling the vials inside, and dipped her head to Brother Matthews. “If you’ll lead the way, Brother?”

Brother Matthews looked between the siblings before obliging with a nod.The hem of his robes fluttered as he drifted down the row of pews, looking almost spectral in the waning light. He paused at a stairwell’s threshold and beckoned. “This way…” he murmured.

Max stole a glance up at Augustine. Concern glistened in her eye as they made their descent down into the church’s underbelly. He tried to dissuade her skepticism with a forced smile. It merited a quirked brow followed by humoring silence. She hastened to fall in step with the deacon, lowering her voice so that they may converse in private. It suited Augustine just fine. If anything, he appreciated the momentary solitude. It allowed his thoughts to settle for the first time in over a week.

Has it really only been a week?

Augustine hugged his shoulders. He felt as if he lived two life times while toiling through this whole mess. With the brisk shake of his head, he dismissed the thought. Instead, he focused his gaze on the cobble stone and counted each step down into the lower levels. Only the faint glow cast from torches illuminated the long stretch of shadows. Each step deeper in the darkened veil seemed to put the deacon on edge. His shoulders buckled. His steps quickened. And he wouldn’t stop stealing suspicious glances at them over his shoulders.

For someone as old as you, Augustine mused, You shouldn’t be so scared of the dark.

Augustine simply didn’t understand. He grew more at ease the further from the Light they traveled. Warmth from the torches’ flames started to seep into his chilled bones. His arms slid down to hug his stomach as he cocked his head back, feeling the cobblestone walls brush against his shoulders. Small and dark. He closed his swollen eyes and heaved a sigh. Memories, vague and diluted images, lapped against the foreground of his scattered thoughts. The touch of fire… Press of stone… Long, dark shadows… If he let it, the memory could wash over him. Swallow him whole and cast him far from this cold, hellish nightmare. Send him to a simpler time. A time when he was small. And all he had to worry about was the next page read from Max’s lips as they nestled in the corner of their father’s forge.

He could be there if he fed the memory. Let it grow and consume his waking thoughts. All he needed to do was stoke its flame.

But there was work to be done…

He pushed the memory aside and opened his eyes. The stairwell led down into a hewn stone chamber. Smaller than the Cathedral’s grand hall but bigger than their apartment. Perhaps at some point it housed their clergy’s tomes and relics. Now bedrolls dominated what little space was available. Families huddled atop these meager homes, each in a different stage of misery. Some were mourning. Some were frightened. And some simply watched him pass with a blank stare.

Augustine paused and canted his head. A voice lifted in song. His heart ached from how sweet it sounded. He tossed a way-ward glance over his shoulder, watching as the deacon joined Max in offloading vials onto a workman’s table. They’d be fine without him. He shuffled his way through the huddled masses, following that melodic voice through the winding desolace.

“We cannot thank you enough for your contribution.”

Brother Matthews voice.  Spoken just a notch above a whisper. His quivering drawl broke the teen’s concentration for a split second. Augustine didn’t need to look at his sister to hear the cordial smile gracing her lips. She always spoke in the same tone; pleasant and unwavering.

“We’re only doing our part. Just as the church is doing theirs…”

Augustine allowed their conversation to fade into the background. Scanning the room, he listened for the voice. So sweet. It’d been days since he last heard another human being’s voice, much less hear one in song. He hadn’t realized how much he missed the sound of people. His heart yearned to hear child’s mirth and city bustle. To hear the town crier and to listen to the lady’s chitter. To feel warmth and life again in the city. For now, it’d settle for this voice. One so delicate...That it possessed him to follow it until he found its source.

“Awake, our souls; away with fears… … let every trembling thought be gone; Awake and run toward thy heavenly light, … And imbue me with cheerful courage.”

The girl’s hair glimmered in the torch’s dim light, glistening pale like silver thread. She bowed her head as she knelt on the cold stone. Dressed in nothing but a tattered dress, she shivered as she breathed each word. She spoke with a lyrical somberance which captivated Augustine. He watched her in awe until she caught sight of him. She balked, a hiccup catching in her throat.

Augustine bristled. “Y-your song!” he stammered, curling into himself, “It was… It was lovely.”

Her demur countenance darkened. “It’s not a song,” she murmured, “It’s a prayer.” Her gaze dropped to the floor. “I’m praying for courage…”

“Praying for courage?” he echoed.

“Yes.” The girl pursed her lips, turning her gaze back on Augustine. He felt his face warm as she searched him with wide, doe eyes. No shame resided in them, only resolve punctuated by the furrow of her brow. “The Prayer of Awakened Souls. Don’t you know it?”

Augustine shook his head. “I’m afraid not...”

“Why not?”

The question caught him off guard. A disquiet smile touched his lips as he tucked either hand in a pocket. He chewed on the question before shrugging. “The Light is viewed differently in Kul’tiras,” he professed, “There are Tidesages who blessed the ships and waters. As far as the Holy Light…” He averted his gaze. “Well. I figured it was only used by paladins…”

“By Paladins…” she echoed, flashing him a teasing smirk, “So they can smite their foes?”

Augustine bristled. He rubbed the nape of his neck. “M-maybe…”

The girl hummed with amusement. She scooted over on and beckoned Augustine to sit. “The Light,” she explained, settling back, “Is used for so much more. It can be wielded by anyone. You. Me. Even an infant. It grants those who believe in it strength.”

Augustine sat cross-legged and quirked a brow. “But the Light exists…It’s part of this world, just like arcane and nature magic. Believing or not, it’s an irrefutable fact.”

“There’s a difference…” She took his hands in her own.  “Between believing in its existence and believing in it…” She pressed both their hands to his chest. “When you truly embrace it. Its warmth will fill you.”

In his palms, he held his chittering heart. He searched for such faith in each pulse. His smile softened. He found no Light in his chest. It only harbored the crackle of a still borne fire. “I think I understand now…”

Augustine nodded thoughtfully as turned to steal a glance over his shoulder. The conversation between Max and the deacon looked to have drawn to a close. Shadows danced off her lithe form as she crossed the chamber, coming to stop just before him. She looked between him and the girl.

“It’s time to go, Augustine.”

The girl released his hands and curled into herself. “Augustine,” she murmured, brushing back an errant lock of hair, “That’s a nice name.” She summoned a demur smile. “I will pray that the Light gives you strength.”

Such a strange sentiment that he found oddly comforting. Augustine returned the smile as he rose to his feet. “I appreciate it…” A twang of guilt touched his heart. He couldn’t offer words of comfort. Not in the way her expectant gaze asked.

For his gifts of strength came in the form of tiny vials and mason jars.

Previous Chapter: What We Can

[fics-not-tragedies]

Call off the search for your soul [2]

As I promised you, this is the second part of the full version of this “Fuckin’ February” drabble requested by @thesadvampire​​.

SUMMARY: John takes young D’Antonio home and shows him how steamy love is made. Words:  6597; Warnings: m/m smut, a very nice one I must admit;

Readers tag list:

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Santino’s hands were clenched into fists, his palms sweaty and although John stood against the opposite wall in the elevator, he felt himself practically gravitating towards him, could still feel the touch of his hands, his skin tingling where John’s lips had been, leaving his head in a blur he now knew better than to blame on the bitterness of the whisky.

Despite the nerve, despite the strange and unfamiliar approach that Santino would have discarded within seconds on any other occasion, with any other person, he couldn’t help but admire John’s fearlessness, the unapologetic confidence, how harmless and yet breathtakingly intimidating he was. There was something he hadn’t quite felt before, or at least not allowed himself to explore and he didn’t know what it was that drew him to it now, unsure what John offered that had sparked him to investigate further what he’d hidden well until then, even from himself.

His laughter made certain things seem significantly less important, his remarks about how important he felt when leaving Cassian by the front door and taking Ares up in the lift with them endearing and when the doors slid open with a metallic echo, his large hand sprawled out on Santino’s back as he pushed himself off the wall and led him down the corridor left him in deep conflict of the nature of his decision.

A small cackle fell from John’s lips as he watched Santino closely, took in his every movement, his gaze remaining on him from the corner of his eye as he moved to unlock the door, his other hand still on Santino’s lower back, then pressing against it lightly to lead him into the apartment, unable to believe himself that he had made it this far, unsurprised by his triumph, though proud of the extent of it.

Despite his security in the building, ready to follow his every command, he felt his heart beat grow heavier when John closed the door behind him and he found himself stood in a spacious apartment, met with the entirety of it all at once due to the lack of a hallway, the living room, the kitchen a bar counter, a large table in the middle of it all and his subconscious made the decision for him, his entire attention shifting instantly back to John.

“Do you want a drink, Santi?” he drawled, instantly able to see the way Santino’s body relaxed when he drew his hand from him and strode towards the bar, throwing his jacket over the back of one of the stools, “You’re a whisky man?” He continued without waiting for the other man’s response, reaching up onto a shelf and balancing two glasses to place them on the marble counter, then popping open the bottle to start pouring their drinks, “Got some Johnnie Walker here for you. It’s not quite as fancy as that good stuff at your club, but…”

Santino caught his hand reaching out for the glass before he could properly process his brain’s command to do so as John crossed the room to come back to him, the glass cold in his palm that had become clammier than he would’ve cared to admit, though he could barely lift the glass to his lips before John’s stopped him, a raise of his eyebrow and he rang their glasses together, “To a banging night” he cackled, wiggling his eyebrows.

Santino swallowed, thankful for the way the whisky burned in his throat to distract momentarily from how dry his mouth felt. He could still feel where John’s hand had been on his back mere moments ago, though certainly was not going to ask for further contact, did not see himself demanding anything due to the unpredictability of John’s reaction he would undoubtedly be met with, would be caught off guard by.

John finished his drink with one quick backwards tilt of his head, the glass quickly discarded and he watched the slow motion of Santino’s Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, the skin stretching delicately as he swallowed the liquor, noticed the tight grip he maintained on the glass and without second thought gave in to the ache in his hand and reached out to brush his knuckles lightly over the side of Santino’s neck, humming as he watched the flicker in his eyes, fearful, then confident within a split second as he leaned almost automatically into his touch and he turned his hand to cup his neck into his palm, his long fingers stroking at the back of Santino’s neck.

“So…” John licked his lips, drawing the glass from Santino’s hand and brushing his fingers shamelessly over his, then nodding towards his large bed, black silk sheets and grey pillows arranged against the headboard. “Why don't you get on the bed for me, bello?”

A shudder, a shot of electricity went up Santino’s arm as he felt the warmth of John’s fingers against his, but his words chilled him in a way that was unexpected even to him, though he’d said he wouldn’t commit to anything, he felt strangely certain about John’s intentions, had followed his lead purely because of the promising awareness his every movement, his every word carried and yet, as imagination, suggestion turned into reality, the realization of what lay ahead if he allowed it sank in, it seemed almost too tangible.

John watched the hesitation of Santino’s body language as he put the glass down for him. He tilted his head to the side, raising an eyebrow, “Don’t you want me, Santi?” he rasped, licking his lips.

Santino swallowed again, his bottom lip pushing out slightly with natural resistance, “You mean … uh…” He cleared his throat, disturbed by his own uncertainty, what it’d reduced him to. “Does that mean you're gonna comandare?” he asked, trying to sound skeptical rather than unsettled.

John chuckled, “Would you rather comandare, bello?” He hummed.

The response came quick, automated, Santino’s voice harder than before, his jaw tensing. “I’m always in charge” he declared.

“Mmm…” John nodded slowly, “Then what do you want now, Santi?” he asked, moving closer to him, his fingers despite Santino’s resistance still caressing the short hair at his neck, trying to figure him out, what was going through his mind.

The boldness of the question, the blunt suggestion had Santino’s hand shaking, the lack of control feeding off the experience he wished he had, the experience he needed to display the confidence he never failed to muster, “I … uh … I’ve never…”

John pursed his lips, his eyes widening despite his best efforts to conceal his surprise, though he knew he should have known better and he was unable to keep a small smile from playing around his lips, “No one ever fucked you before?” he asked shamelessly, his gaze expectant to now draw a much stronger reaction. He wanted to explore, wanted to venture further to see just how far he could push it, “Or touched you the way I’ll do?” he added.

Santino’s lip was quivering, his nerves on the very edge of self-control. His head was spinning in a way he had long given up blaming on the booze, he craved a cigarette and it reminded him of the smoke he’d tasted on John’s lips, the sharp taste of liquor on his tongue and he knew his own urge to take control, the frustration that he couldn’t were threatening to trigger his flight, but before he could fall any deeper into exploring the possibility, John’s fingers took hold of the back of his neck, half a step and he was right there, his lips pressed to Santino’s once again, forcing them apart and drawing a moan from him that he would have deemed weak hearing it from anybody else.

John’s hand wandered from Santino’s hip to cup the curve of his ass, squeezing as he drew him in further, made sure to hold him right where he had him, could taste the alcohol as well as the cigarette smoke in the kiss, a guttural moan escaping him when Santino’s instinct took over yet again, his hand clutching John’s shirt impulsively to draw him in closer, to somehow get more of him when the sole promise of his lips already had his mind reeling. He just needed him to know.

To his disappointment, he drew back too soon, though only to start kissing Santino’s jaw, eager for the sound Santino had made with the sensitive skin behind his ear being teased and he attached his lips to the sweet spot he’d found, groaning at Santino’s shaky whimper and Santino almost missed John’s hand on his ass, though his attention was instantly drawn to where it moved next, with quick movements starting to unbutton the remaining buttons of his shirt, kissing every inch of newly exposed skin, pausing to suck, sinking his teeth in, but never for long enough to mark his skin, then enjoyed the way Santino’s breath hitched in his throat as he slowly lowered himself to his knees.

Santino cleared his throat as he looked down at him, his posture tensing further as the man in front of him started unbuckling his belt for him, “I … uh…”

“Just relax Santi…” John drawled, licking his lips as he pulled down the zipper of the tight suit trousers slowly, had been able to see the clear outline of his length, unsurprised when he freed him from the restrictive material of his trousers and wrapped his long fingers around him, starting slowly to stroke his shaft, immensely pleased when the expression on Santino’s sharp features shifted from surprise, shock, to in-suppressible pleasure, “How about I suck you off and show you exactly how I like it?” John hummed, looking up at him.

The sparkle he could see in the eager blue eyes unsettled him as much as it excited him and the hope of dominance that was Santino’s for the taking was short-lived, his hand clutching into a fist, his breath shaky, chest rising and falling beyond his control and he could hardly speak, his face flushed.

“And then you can return the favor?” He drawled with a breathy chuckle, though the look on Santino’s face was more than enough for him for a response. He parted his lips and shamelessly held his gaze as he allowed his cock to sink into his mouth, his lips tight around him.

“C-cazzo…” Santino groaned, his balance faltering, hips shaking and his hand moving to the back of John’s head instinctively, tugging on his hair.

“Yees, bello” John groaned as he drew back, his hand going back to stroking Santino’s length, the sloppy movements drawing more moans from Santino, leaving John appreciative of the way he was finally letting go, finally acting on his impulse, his urge without overthinking and he was determined to keep it that way.

Without further warning, he felt John take him back into his mouth, the heat of his tongue swirling around his shaft, the way his hand resumed its tight grip on Santino’s ass to draw him in closer, the sloppy groans with his mouth full, he could hardly contain himself, throwing his head back as he pulled on John’s hair for leverage, for something other than the pleasure tingling in his body.

He ached to arch his hips forward, to draw John in to stay where he was, to keep his cock buried in the back of his throat, but his fingers were shaking, the movements of his hips irregular and his every hope of alternation, of John’s tongue flicking around him, of the friction of his lips tightening around Santino’s length, of the way he inched forward to take all of him – it had him losing control in a way he’d never in this position felt before.

No one that had been on their knees in front of Santino had ever completely taken from him now and he found himself relaxing into the sensation, a desperate whines falling from his lips inexcusable when the tip of his cock hit the back of John’s throat and he swallowed around him, once, twice, three times without the hint of a struggle before he drew back for air, though quickly took him back into his mouth, picking up a sloppy pace, faster and with his lips locked tighter around Santino’s cock.

John could sense by the erratic movements of Santino’s hips, the way his fingers were wound tightly in his hair without any sense of purpose other than holding on, that he was close, getting closer by the second and as much as he wanted to feel him pulse on his tongue, taste him, he had other plans, he was eager to see how far he could push him, how much he would allow so he drew back slowly, chuckling at the way his posture straightened instantly, his eyes falling open, the look in them eager, hopeful, lost.

“Easy, darling” John cackled, giving Santino’s cock another few teasing pumps before rising to his feet, silencing any possible protest from Santino’s lips with a deep kiss, his fingers winding around Santino’s chain to draw him in further as he kissed him eagerly.

Santino felt like he could hardly breathe, though needed more desperately now, the kiss not nearly as satisfying and once again, he was deprived of more far too quickly, John flashing him a grin when he drew back.

“C’mon, Santi, get on your knees for me” he hummed, stroking his fingers through Santino’s hair affectionately.

He swallowed, not feeling entirely steady on his legs as John slowly stepped back from him and he instantly missed his touch, following as if he was drawn to him like a magnet, shrugging out of his jacket and placing it down on the bed before sinking to his knees without further thought, hanging on to the other man’s every word, his every movement, shift in his gaze.

John hummed, his fingers instantly brushing Santino’s hair back again, smirking at the way he instantly leaned into his touch, “Are you usually this obedient?” he chuckled, “Or are you giving me a special treatment?”

Santino swallowed, his natural instinct he’d completely discarded ever since his arrival in a strange man’s flat, the urge to defy anything that wasn’t entirely under his control, it went up in smoke again when John’s fingers stroked gently over his jaw and he raised an eyebrow expectantly, making Santino want to prove there was nothing he couldn’t do rather than admit that he wouldn’t because he couldn’t, as it was evident. He refused to let John see him that way, to allow himself to perceive his own weaknesses.

John nodded slowly, understandingly, “Never had a cock in your pretty mouth, I’m guessing?”

Santino didn’t bother with a response, instead was determined to not let the frustration at himself get the best of him, to complicate his actions and he reached forward, unbuckling John’s belt, satisfied when his eyes widened in surprise and he watched him, aware of his gaze on him, his face was flushed yet again and he quickly focused his own gaze on the task at hand, undoing the button and the zipper of the tight suit trousers, though as he was fully realizing what he was doing, who he was, where he was, he suddenly didn’t feel so sure, his fingers’ movement slowing.

John raised an eyebrow, “C’mon, Santi…”

His voice snapping him out of it, reminding him, it was all he needed and he took a breath, now eager and drawing the zipper all the way down, knew he shouldn’t have been surprised by the lack of underwear and just as he reached to take a hold of him, determined to do a job just as good as John had, better even.

He knew there was no one else there, it was just him and John, he’d allowed things to carry out this far and he was far from letting his own frustration ruin what he wanted now, starting to stroke John’s hard length slowly, the feeling less unfamiliar than he would have expected and adjusting his angle, he continued, felt him pulsing in his palm and as he heard a groan, he allowed himself to look up at John, his heart skipping a beat when their eyes met, the eagerness, the lust in the gaze of the man that stood above him exhilarating.

“Keep going” John rasped, as surprised as he was content with Santino’s compliance.

Santino licked his lips, sitting up straight and tilting his forward and as soon as he’d parted his lips and looked back up at John, he’d pushed his hips forward and he could taste the hint of saltiness on his tongue he knew he should have expected and before he knew it, John’s cock was pushing his lips further apart, groaning above him at the friction.

Santino snapped himself out of it yet again, knew just how he’d taken care of him mere minutes prior, knew what he liked himself and what would achieve the same effect if he did it, he knew it was a question of effort, of applying what he knew he enjoyed and he shifted to adjust his sitting position, pressing his tongue to the underside of John’s cock as he slowly started working himself in and out of Santino’s mouth.

“Your mouth is perfect, Santi” John groaned shakily, his fingers gripping on tighter to Santino’s hair as he moved him slowly as he pleased while allowing him the necessary room to move at the same time, seeking to urge, yet not overwhelm him, “You’re a fucking natural…”

The sight of Santino D'Antonio on his knees in front of him carried enough weight to turn him on beyond what he’d expected, but the fact that despite his lack of control he was so willing, so eager, acting completely on his own impulse as well as the desire to please him, it had his mind reeling, had him fighting to hold on, to push him further to his limit without taking too much, without going too fast, but John himself was so close to losing the control he’d maintained all this time over himself and surprisingly, over Santino as well.

Santino was sucking more eagerly now, the loud groans above him fueling, encouraging, his fingers clutching to John’s thighs to keep his hips from pushing too far into him, despite his eagerness afraid of what would happen if John’s took complete control of him and just as he closed his eyes, swirled his tongue around him and tightened his lips around his shaft, John’s grip tightened on the back of his head and he pushed his cock all the way into his mouth, groaning at the friction of Santino’s tongue, his lips, and the way his tip hit the back of Santino’s throat, instantly making him struggle and his throat tighten around him as he held him there.

He pulled on Santino’s hair, one second, two and he allowed him to breathe, groaning loudly, ready for the shift, the wild gaze in Santino’s eyes promising the fire he knew he had to expect from Santino D'Antonio, but instead, he inched right back forward, taking hold of the base of his cock and guided him back into mouth, this time taking him all the way and into the back of his throat all by himself before John could grip his hair again, swallowing, and threatening to push him over the edge so John had to take a firm hold of his hair and pull him back, excited by the pleasure that had almost spilled over as well as the sharp gasp that fell from Santino’s lips and the way his eyes almost rolled back at the rough tug on his hair.

“I want you on my bed now, Santi” he groaned, gesturing for him to rise to his feet, the command urgent, this time not to be left hung in the air to discard for another moment.

Santino swallowed, his hand coming down almost automatically on John’s shoulder as he started pushing Santino’s trousers down as soon as he stood, stepping to the side and waiting expectantly for him to step out of them before he came up behind him, one hand on Santino’s hip and holding him to stand steady as he discarded his trousers, his other hand slowly wandering up his chest, sprawled out and urging Santino forward before he could question his own movements or escape somehow, his arm then locking around him, allowing him to feel the taunt muscles in his arm, giving him no other choice but to lean forward over the bed, making John appreciatively at the view it offered of Santino’s ass.

“Santi, you really do have the most perfect ass” he chuckled, one hand already landing on the curve of Santino’s ass again, squeezing, the other now that he had him where he wanted descending down the other man’s back and pressing down to bend him further over the bed.

Santino knew he should have been more resistant allowing John to push him down so quickly, but the fact that he could no longer watch him, see the way he reacted in a way so uncontrollable, so unpredictable, it eased him, though only until he felt John’s fingers starting slowly to push between his ass cheeks, making him gasp.

John felt the instant tension that shot through Santino’s body, one of his hands stroking up his back slowly, “Bello, it’s alright” he assured him, “I have to make sure you’re ready for my cock before I give it to you.”  

Though he hadn’t spoken much, and Santino knew he spoke way more when trying to put someone in their place, to submit to him, to intimidate them, the few words falling from John’s lips, the rasp of them, the promises, they rendered him speechless and unsure of what to do, leaving him with no way he could possibly respond and though he knew exactly why he’d been reduced to the position he now found himself in, the realization still hit him more than it had before, and all at once, when he felt John’s fingertips trying to push inside him.

“Gonna make you mine for the night, Santi, just relax…” John hummed, his fingers teasing, a smile playing around his lips when he felt Santino pushing back towards him, “Don't move.”

With those words, his touch was gone and though he didn’t like to admit it even to himself, he yet again already missed the touch, the attention, watching as John strode around the bed and grabbed a transparent bottle from the nightstand before returning to his original position, the quick snap of a lid and a squirting sound and the air filled with the rich scent of strawberries and mint, then John’s fingers were right where they had been, cool, slick, his thumb working to make room for his fingers and Santino lurched forward at the sudden intrusion, the unfamiliar feeling, a loud gasp falling from his lips and before he could move away, John’s hand was on his hip, holding him right where he was.

“Stay right here” he drawled, wiggling his fingers slightly, adjusting the angle, immensely pleased with the way Santino’s body shook, adjusting to his touch, “Nobody ever put their fingers inside you before?” He hummed, “You're so well-behaved, Santi…”

Before Santino could even attempt a response, John’s grip on his hips tightened yet again, his nails digging into Santino’s skin and his fingers sank all the way inside him, coaxing a desperate moan from him that left him breathless, “F-Fuck…”

“Thaaat’s right” John hummed, “Good boy … does that feel good?”

Despite his desperation, the instant need he felt for more in a way he himself deemed pathetic, Santino couldn’t deny how good the snug fit of John’s fingers felt inside him, how badly he craved everything he had to give.

“You said you liked games, Santi…” John said slowly as he started working his fingers in and out to relax him further, to stretch him, to prepare him for what he’d been dying for since he’d seen the other man at the bar. It seemed like an eternity ago.

Santino breathed out shakily, his hands clenched into fists, “W-What game are we playing precisely?” he choked out, the nonchalant way John spoke as he gradually increased the pace of his fingers agonizing, taunting him.

“It’s easy really” he chuckled, “You tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you…”

Santino allowed himself another sharp exhale in a desperate attempt to swallow his pride, there was nothing he wanted more than for John to keep going, the thought of anything else making his heart sink. “J-Just need more…” he breathed, his teeth gritted at the words just escaping him without further thought. “Please…”

John chuckled, “Mmm, I know, darling … thank you for asking so nicely…” he smirked, curving his fingers slightly, his fingertips reaching deeper inside him and he cackled as he achieved the anticipated reaction, a low groan, shaky and desperate falling from Santino’s lips, his hips bucking back into him at the sensation.

Santino’s eyes fell shut, the pleasure shooting through his body like electricity, making him shudder momentarily,

“C-cazzo” he gasped, his voice trailing off into a low moan as John repeated the motion of his fingers, leaving him panting, his arms threatening to give in as he held himself up on the bed, “Do that again…”

John cackled.

“Gonna do much more than that…” he said, withdrawing one of his hands and starting to stroke himself slowly, before removing the wrapper from the condom and slowly rolling it down his length, another squirt from the bottle of lube and he refused to wait any longer, could feel Santino tensing, heard another soft gasp when he retreated his fingers.

Santino turned to look at him over his shoulder, the heat increasing in his cheeks when they locked eyes and the smirk on John’s face, the wild excitement, the fire in his eyes, it made his stomach churn.

“I’m here…” John hummed, stepping up to him again and almost violently peeling Santino’s shirt down his arms, almost causing him to jump when he pushed the tip of his cock between his cheeks, trying to hold them apart, “Gonna fill you up now, alright?”

“John, I-I…” Santino tensed, biting his lip.

“Don't worry,” he said, “I’m gonna be gentle with you…” he assured him, “I’ll go slow. I’m gonna give you exactly what you need, Santi…” he gave a slight push forward with his hips, grinning at Santino’s gasp, surprised when his hand reached back to wrap around his wrist where his hand sat on Santino’s hip.

He didn’t wait, didn’t ask, didn’t take any more time, merely pressed his thumb to the inside of Santino’s cheek, then gave a firm push of his hips to bury himself deep inside him, the resistance, the tightness allowing a delicious friction that had him groaning loudly, “Oh, fuuuuuuckk, Santi…”

Santino’s fingers clutched to the sheets at the sudden sensation, had thought he knew what to expect, but the thick feeling, the tightness, the pulsing sensation right where he’d needed most, it made his whole body shake, had him losing complete control over his own movements and rendered him powerless, “Oooooh…” he moaned lowly, his knuckles turning white with his grip on the sheets.

John licked his lips, smoothing his hand down Santino’s back, “Such a good boy…” he praised him, drawing his hips back slightly and dragging his cock along Santino’s tightening walls, the friction irresistible as he contracted around him, “So fucking’ tight, fuck…”

“J-John…” Santino gasped, his fingers tightening around John’ wrist, though a firm push of John’s hips back into him cut him off, had him trying to pull away from him almost instantly at the intensity, the instinctive reaction displeasing enough for John to shake off his wrist and reach to cup Santino’s throat, his other hand sprawled out at his abdomen to press down and pull Santino up from where he was bent over and flush against him, on his knees and gasping with wide eyes as he caught sight of the mirror straight ahead behind the headboard, his face instantly bright red as he locked eyes with himself in the reflective image.

With his chest pressed to Santino’s back, he could feel the strong heartbeat, almost in sync with his own, thudding rapidly and he stroked his fingers over Santino’s throat, a push of his hips while holding Santino in place drawing another weak moan from him.

Santino tried to push back, squeezing his eyes shut as he allowed the pleasure to overwhelm him, shivers running down his spine, the bliss threatening to spill over as he got more and more, craved more and more.

“Arch your back for me” John groaned, trying to move his body to curve back into him, though could hardly keep up with the desperate need he could sense in Santino, “Slow” he snapped quickly as he felt the way he shook increasing, whimpering needily, “Slow, slow, Santi, oh, you’re eager now, shh…”

Santino whined as John guided his head down on his shoulder, his hand on his abdomen traveling lower and wrapping around his cock, slowly starting to stroke him as he started moving his hips to push in and out of him, each time the friction overwhelmed him. He relaxed further, bracing himself for the pleasure John offered each time their bodies collided and he reached deep inside him, hit the spot that made him see stars and though he was trying desperately to hide how badly he needed more, he was certain John knew he would have done anything for him in that moment.

“I’ve got you” John drawled, angling his head upwards and with his thumb pressing down lightly on the soft skin above his Adam’s apple, humming appreciatively when his eyes snapped open and he instantly increased the pace of his hips, eager to watch the pleasure flicker across Santino’s face, “Such a pretty boy…”

Santino swallowed hard, his hand once again wrapping around John’s wrist as he tried fearlessly to maintain the eye contact now, refusing to cave.

“You know how pretty you are, Santi?” He chuckled at the increase in colour in the other man’s cheeks, “You’re fucking stunning…” He drew his hips back, only to force his cock right back into him, holding on tighter as Santino shook in his arms, his moans increasing in frequency, like music to John’s ears and he felt himself growing closer, could feel Santino’s cock pulsing in his hand and knew he wouldn’t be far behind, and he was ready to give him everything, his voice husky, breathy when he spoke, “Hold on to me.”

Before he could question the command, could even consciously decide to follow it, his hand tightened automatically around John’s wrist, the other reaching back to hold on to his upper arm where he could reach, simply in reaction the way John effortlessly picked up the pace, the friction of his cock dragging along Santino’s walls, the blissful, ecstatic sensation that cursed through him each time he filled him all the way, the relentless tugs on his cock, it was enough to leave him gasping, whimpering, fueled the lack of control he had over his own body.

“Do you like my cock?” John groaned breathlessly, his lips so close to Santino’s ear that he could feel his teeth dragging against his skin, his fingers pressing against his throat as he tightened his grip.

“Y-Yes, I’m so fucking close, John…”

“Do you want to cum?” John asked him and he just groaned loudly, “Oh, you want it? Then beg for it.”

Santino gasped. “I-I…”

“Beg me like a good little boy, Santi…”

“I need you John” Santino whined, allowing himself to submit fully, to fall back into John’s arms, to give up on even the last inch of control, and John instantly fucked him faster, groaning needily into his ear, his fingers caressing his jaw and just as Santino’s lips parted with another moan as John filled him, he pushed his fingers into his mouth, almost losing control of himself when Santino’s sucked on his fingertips, his lips tight around them, the image in the mirror more than he could have hoped for.

“Santi” he growled, squeezing his neck, “Open your eyes.”

Santino’s eyes snapped open, his heart skipping a beat at the sight in front of him, his own skin as sheeny with sweat as John’s, the flush of his cheeks and chest inexcusable, the wild desperation in his eyes lacking the dominance he was used to and as his eyes focused on John, the veins apparent in his neck and chest, his fingers half buried in Santino’s mouth with his lips swollen and tight around them, he despised what he saw as much as he reveled in it.

“Can you see how good you look filled with my cock?” John asked through gritted teeth, laughing shakily, his breath tickling Santino’s skin. He stroked Santino’s cock faster, squeezing him as he drove himself into him harder, “Want you to look me in the eyes when you cum.”

Santino gasped at the sudden increase in pace, could practically taste his orgasm, the continuous pressure that pushed him further and further threatening to overwhelm him as he realized he was going to get exactly what he wanted, he was going to despite everything have mercy on him, “T-Thank you” he whimpered, the words spilling out beyond his control.

John drew back his hips, could feel the weakness as he held him in his arms, “You don't need to thank me” he drawled with a chuckle, tugging hard on his cock and pushing inside him with as much force as he could muster, sending Santino spiraling.

He tried to keep his eyes wide open, the way John’s gaze was locked on his increasing the incomparable pleasure that cursed through his body in that moment, hot tears running down his cheeks at the intensity of the pleasure that hit him and before he could stop himself to follow John’s command, his eyes rolled back as he fucked him through his orgasm, had him clinging on to his bicep for dear life, breathless and his lips parted in a silent moan until he found his voice again, the strangled moan that escaped him beyond his control entirely.

The look on Santino’s face, the unconditional obedience, the sounds of pleasure, the sight of him, the way his body reacted, it was more than John could have hoped for and it cost him all his self-control, all his strength that tensed his body to not let go, he wasn’t done, certainly not now and he drew his fingers from Santino’s mouth, stroking affectionately over his throat.

“C-cazzo…” Santino whined.

“Gooood boy” John drawled, holding him up in his arms as the tension slowly faded and he was almost limp in his arms, his breath shaking, his fingers moving to wipe his face, “Let it out, handsome…”

Santino swallowed, trying to compose himself as reality caught up with him, his body tingling with the aftershocks of the unparalleled pleasure.

“First time coming on a cock?” John rasped, “Needed that, didn’t you?”

Santino was still panting, the nerve of the man behind him as he held him tightly beyond him and he realized then how much a mess he’d made on the silk sheets, but John paid it no mind, instead let go of him slowly.

John discarded the condom on the bedside table, then moved back to Santino and gently stroked his sweaty back with his large hand, “Turn around for me, darling” he hummed, “I want to cum on your tongue…”

As soon as Santino regained the necessary strength in his body, he shifted to turn around as he’d been instructed, had been reduced to a state of bliss that still made him feel like he was floating and he replaced John’s hand on his cock with his own, guiding it past his lips again, humming when the other man’s long fingers found their way into his hair.

“Mmm, you’re eager now” John groaned as Santino started to bob his head, taking him in and out of his mouth, deeper each time, his lips wrapped tightly around him, his tongue swirling around him as he sucked determinedly, “Eager after I made you feel so good, you took me so well, bello…”

Santino moaned around him as John tugged on his hair, then tightened his grip on the back of his neck again to hold him in place as he buried his cock deep in throat, could feel Santino desperately trying to fight the urge to pull back.

“Look at me, Santi, so stunning with your mouth full…” John grunted as he saw tears swimming in Santino’s eyes again, “Just a little longer, darling, I’m almost there…”

Santino breathed through his nose, could feel John’s cock pulsing on his tongue, tried to swallow around him, tried to push him over the edge as effortlessly as he had done with him and just as he thought he would have to give up, he felt the twitch, heard the loud groan above him, the look in John’s eyes wild, so high on the lust, his triumph that increased his efforts, trying to swallow around his tip again, tasting his release as it trickled down his tongue and the back of his throat.

“Fuuuuuuuck” John drawled, his heart pounding, his fingers still wound tightly around Santino’s locks, “Hold on, darling” he mumbled as Santino tried to draw back with wide eyes, “Wanna stay in your throat a little longer…” he reveled in the afterglow, the tightness, the warmth of Santino’s mouth, though knew he was struggling so he drew back slowly, stroking his thumb over Santino’s bottom lip as he admired the pout of it, “Pretty boy…”

Santino swallowed, licking his lips and trying to sit up where he was as John stepped back, flashed him a smirk, then grabbed a dressing gown from the chair next to his nightstand and tying it loosely around his waist.

Santino ran his fingers through his hair, brushing the damp strands from his forehead and shifted to get up and off the bed, picking his clothes up reluctantly as he figured John would want him to go, and he could hardly believe he was even still there, how far he’d allowed himself to go, but then again, he wasn’t anyone, he was Santino D'Antonio, refused now more than ever to bend to anyone’s will if it was against what he himself wanted.

When he lifted his gaze, it was like John had been waiting, chuckling to himself, two large cigars and the remaining bottle of whisky in one hand, “C'mon let’s have another drink, shall we?” He asked, waving him over and as Santino raised an eyebrow, he drew out another dressing gown, black and silky from the wardrobe and offered it to him.

Santino swallowed, holding John’s expectant gaze, weighing the weight, the control his decision carried, desperate to reassert his dominance, to continue following nothing but his own will, then stepping forward determinedly, sliding into the gown and taking a hold of John’s waist, pressing a brief, yet possessive kiss to his lips, though drawing away before he could flip the sentiment on him, giving a firm nod.

“Resto qui con te.”

[weaselsmuses-aa]

Typhoon Island Villager HCS [final]

Emma

Age: 21

Island occupation: Island Representative. Though she’s called a shady representative by many.

Sexuality: Bi.

Friends: All of her villagers of course! (though she does have her favorites, namely Punchy, Antonio and Bamikins.)

Very hard working. Is almost always running form one side of the island with new ideas for how to improve things

When she isn’t terraforming, pathing or planting, she’s hanging out with Punchy and her friends.

A gracious host, according to her. She wants all guests to check in with her first and foremost. Gets a little grumpy when someone doesn’t follow that rule.

Terrorizing Isabelle is her hobby, gets her through the day.

Loves rain, storms and fog the most.

Favorite season is winter. (Totally not because she can make the whole month of december about her.)

Has been bickering with Isabelle so long she’s accidentally befriended her. (easier to torment her that way)

Rumored to be good friends/has close ties with Redd. (How else did he get here?)

House has an incredibly ominous vibe. Something about it just isn’t quite right.

Is a great asset when you’re friends with her, when you aren’t though....

Almost always with Antonio and Bam (Three musketeers vibe) or Punchy.,

Doesn’t get along with Julian too well. Almost always yelling at him/swearing at him under her breath. 

Misses sloppy furniture damnit.

“ I don’t know about the missing people or the blood, stop asking about it.”

Bellionare.

Punchy

Age: 23

Island occupation: Professional Slacker. (sometimes he’ll help Emma garden and clean the beach though)

Sexuality: Bi at best.

Friends: Bob [bff], Kid Cat, Beau, Antonio, Weasel, Stitches. && ofc Emma.

The FavoriteTM.

Representative’s Pet.

Probably dating Emma

Absolute precious sweetheart

Naive, lazy, but can be sarcastic and snarky when you know him well enough.

Huge heart.

Snacks on snacks on snacks on snacks

Can be a cry baby at times.

Very affectionate with his friends

Usually seen in his yard, by the playground or in Emma’s orchard.

Favorite color is blue, Favorite activity is sunbathing and naps

You look in his home and you’ll be able to tell how much of a favorite he is.

Has nothing but good things to say about Emma. (Seriously shes all he talks about.)

Kind of scared of Bam. He doesn’t get along with him well, for ...obvious reasons.

Popular but didn’t ask to be. He’s just sweet and easy to love!

Really loves cherries. A lot. Seriously. Fastest way to the little kittys heart.

Also pretty good friends with Monsun key’s Lapis, asks about her sometimes.

Bam

Age: 20

Island Occupation: Has a part time job at the museum dusting and helping out with the fossils. 

Sexuality: Pretty het.

Friends: Emma, Ky, Swiss, Antonio, Kid Cat, Beau, Cheri, Getting to know Lucky.

Big brother vibes with a pretty bad temper if you know how to strike a nerve.

Best friends with the Island Rep and Antonio

Seems to be the island’s favorite target for teasing.

Gets along well with everyone …….except Punchy and Bob.

Avidly and openly does not like Punchy, its most likely due to jealousy. It’s also rumored the reason his his very blatant crush on Emma

Only person he likes less than Punchy is Bob as he is quote ‘an asshole’. (Its usually just Bob returning the favor though for Bam being a dick to Punchy).

Usually seen working out on the Beach, doing Yoga in the square, or taking walks. Really loves the Light house, the orchards and the Playground.

Known to be a little overbearing with his attitude problems when he doesn’t like someone. (He’s been seen walking around punchy’s house,and has hit him on a few occasions)

Is either your friend and super nice, or doesn’t like you and can be a dick.

Hangs out with Cheri and Beau a lot when his two right hand pals aren’t available.

Secretly wishes Brewster would come open a shop.

Beau

Age: 22

Sexuality: Pan.

Island occupation: Got a part time gardening position from Lief. Also helps the nooklings arrange their shop displays.

Friends: Topaz, Emma, Ky, Punchy, Bam, Stitches, Lucky, Julian

Sleepy eyed sweetheart.

Very Peaceful and kind, doesn’t like to see anyone fighting and wants everyone to get along.

Definitely the type to always say yes.

Rustic mountain town vibe. Really likes nature and long hikes.

Favorite season is winter.

Best friend’s are Topaz, Punchy, and Bam.

Talks to Blathers and Celeste a lot, very interested in natural history and astronomy.

Goal is to be good friends with everyone on the island. The only one he’s having trouble with is Antonio. He can’t quite figure him out yet.

Likes to have Tea with the island rep on Sundays.

Always wanted to be like the reindeer he’s seen on TV. He admires the lifestyle and aesthetic despite being an antelope.

Has a baby blanket he’s very attached to.

Loves kids, and babysits Kid cat and stitches often, he thinks they’re very sweet.

Plants trees, flowers and shrubs a lot. He really wants to make the island feel more woodsy.

Favorite spot is the museum, orchards and star gazing spot.

Julian

Age: 28

Sexuality: Gay Trans Icon.

Island occupation: He worked at the able sisters for a little while but they had to let him go because he went overboard and tried to control everything. He’s thinking about applying at brewsters. 

Friends: Kyanite! Topaz, Beau, Cheri, Punchy & Bob (sorta)

Narcissitic, Dramatic and self obsessed.

Only thing he loves more than himself, is a good book and singing.

Really loves to look good, and is constantly indecisive about what he wears.

Has an aesthetic and will NOT let you mess with it. Seriously, don’t give him furniture, he’ll give it away.

BFF is Ky.

He also gets along with Beau and Cheri. He can appreciate Beau’s simple pleasures in life, and his kindness. Cheri and him relate on pop culture and music.

Gossips constantly, cannot keep a secret to save his life, and only wants to know your business to talk about it.

Very loving friend once your’e close to him, and will likely only break his ‘peaceful’ face, for a friend. Pissing him off is hard to decipher most of the time, as he finds it beneath him to show ‘savage’ emotions.

Claims to be magic, but no one knows if he actually is, or he just uses his species to say that.

Usually seen in the square seeking attention, following others to eavesdrop, or at home either inside, or in his yard reading or writing.

Doesn’t seem to get along with Spinel too well. He tried to be friends with her but when it didn’t work out he just decided to mess with her for fun.

Dreads double visits from Ky and her girlfriend. As they mess with his lights until they break. Blames Spinel for encouraging it.

Very curious about Lucky and Stitches but kind of creeped out by them. He snoops on them when given the chances to do so though.

Loves the stargazing spot and Ky’s picnic area. He does enjoy a good stroll on the beach too when he isn’t shopping for stuff.

Cannot be without attention for too long, he will shove himself into your conversations, your day, and the town square and tell you gossip or start singing.

Wishes there were more people on the island that he could relate to.

Cheri

Age: 22

Sexuality: She like gurls

Island occupation: Has a part time job doing island clean up for Tom on the weekends. Thinking about asking the nooks to get her a part time job at the shop.

Friends: Pearl (Monsun key), Marina (Monsun key), Emma, Lapis (monsun key),  Weasel , Bam, Bob, Julian, Punchy (they bonded over music recently), Lucky (slowly but surely shes giving her lots of gifts and being in general sweet and cheri cant okay.)

Zero bullshit tolerance.

Sarcastic, snarky and loud, but a very loyal friend

Rap, Rock and Metal are her life

House so red you will forget what other colors are.

Rumored that she’s got an album, no one on the island knows if what she says is true.

Good friends with Bam, Bob and Julian.

Usually in the square Jamming or  Hanging out on the Beach.

Pretty good friends with the Island Representative, isn’t really into all the  gossip about her.

Thinks Kid Cat is cute, but also isn’t big on watching kids, so you know.

Good friends with Weasel, likes to talk to them every once and a while.

Literally don’t start an argument with her, you WILL lose.

‘ im a bad bitch, you cant kill me’

What the hell is stitches? What the fuck happened to lucky? IS anyone going to actually acknowledge how fucked up this is?? hello???

All concerns aside, she thinks both stitches and lucky are very sweet but seriously wtf.

Rapping in the square with her friends is the shit for her okay. She loves it. Has asked Emma to throw a rapping party to which she replied ‘eh.’

Leather jackets and cool clothes are just as important as looking cute as hell!

Talks about Raymond moving like it was the best thing to happen to mankind, and his existence on typhoon island like a bad dream. (she still holdin a grudge)

Antonio

Age: He....wont tell. well guess 25

Sexuality: Doesn’t talk about it.

Island occupation: Typhoon Island ditch digger.......he digs the graves. At least thats his supposed job. He’s seen some shit. Surely.

Friends: Emma, Bam, Swiss, Bob, Stitches, Lucky, Ky

One does not simply get rid of him

Is he all there or is he not?

Vacant stare

Either ramblings of insanity or way too meddling

Everyone calls him crazy but….he knows all the dirty laundry.

Usually in the square….listening..and watching

Favorite Song is K.K. Dirge

Digs the graves for the grave yard and probably puts up the missing signs.

Always seems to pop up out of nowhere. At the most..unnerving moments.

One of the least social, yet most involved somehow.

What are you hiding antonio?

Bob

Age: 24

Sexuality: Bi.

Island occupation: Doesn’t have one. Works booorring. Give him some games and food any day.

Friends: Punchy (BFF), Emma, Lapis (Monsun Key), Weasel, Kid cat, Stitches, Lucky, Beau is okay

Absolute Meme-er

BFF is Punchy

Constant jokes, no matter his mood. Is he serious? Is he not? good luck figuring that out.

The popular kid on the island, but he doesn’t really care.

Also good pals with Swiss.

Give him a dare and he will do it. Every time

Older than the island rep and talks about it alot like its a personality trait.

Play fights you.

Sarcasm for days.

Affectionately bullies you softly

Annoys Antonio for laughs

Pisses Bam off on purpose (they dont get along)

Favorite spot is the playground , the pool and the beach.

Thinks stitches and lucky are super friggin cool. So what if they’re a little weird? That’s what makes them so awesome.

Affectionately messes with cheri when shes’ trying to sing or rap in the square.

Kind of avoids julian because he doesn’t like how he talks down to him

Got kicked out of nooks cranny a couple times. Who even knows why.

Kid cat

Age: 12

Friends: Stitches, Emma, Weasel, Ky, Punchy, Bob, Bam, Antonio, Lucky, Beau, Cheri. (So like everyone.)

Is, as his name would suggest, A kid.

Absolute trash heap of a house. Like He actually lives like this?

The island rep felt bad for him and built him a nice bed. He’s very attached to it.

Best friend’s are Bam, Kody and Weasel.

Sees Bam as a big brother.

Wants everyone on the island to be friends.

Considers himself a super hero, always wants to be the one to save the day and help people with their problems.

Hangs out on the playground, claims the jungle gym as his ‘base’.

If he isn’t there he hangs out in the square trying to spread his ‘heroisms’

Wide eyed optimist

NARUTO RUNNING AROUND YOU.

Is probably going to stay up past his bed time. Whos going to stop him

Claims the ninja turtles live under his house.

Misses Raymond. Says the island is ‘missing its dad’

Stitches

Age: Ageless, but comes off as a 6-10 year old

Island occupation: Doing whatever Emma tells him. 

Friends: Emma, Punchy, Topaz, Kid Cat, Weasel, Beau, Lucky, Bob

A mash up of many different bears and animals before him. All of whom met an untimely end by the hands of the creature.

Is not aware of how he came to be, and it is in Emma’s best interest to keep it that way. She will make sure you don’t tell him.

Can’t see very well, and can’t speak. Instead is telepathic, and can speak in sign language if need be. You will be able to hear his voice, but his mouth will never move.

Doesn’t come out of his house too terribly often, and is not allowed out after dark.

Favorite activity is playing pretend! He loves his toys and his blocks, and sometimes will go over to kid cats or weasels to play pretend with them.

Refers to the island representative as a mother, which .....disturbs and disconcerns most.

really close with lucky. They relate on a lot of....similar misfortunes. They can also speak to each other privately through mystical means without interruption or eavesdropping from others.

Is as name would suggest, stitched up. Sometimes the seams come undone and his stuffing comes out. (Yes hes actually full of ...just stuffing.) stuffin’!

Seems to be alive by sheer paranormal means. There is nothing in him keeping him ticking biologically.

Wants to be friends with isabelle, but notices he frightens her, so he avoids town hall.

Favorite spots are his room, the picnic by kys house, and the playground. (He wants to learn the monkeybars!)

Really looks up to Punchy, and wants him to help teach him the ways of the world....though punchy may NOT be the best rolemodel.

Afraid of Bam and Antonio, but is put under their care often.

Lucky

Age: ......we aren’t sure. Shes been dead a while. The only one who might know is emma.

Island occupation: Haunting the island after dark. (She’d help out if anyone would hire her.)

Friends: Stitches, Emma, Bob, Beau, Swiss

Is as ‘luck’ would have it, dead. She’s a spirit.

Rumored first victim of the typhoon island serial killer. She’s been dead a while, as her house would show, she’s not had the privilege of living for quite some time now.

Her bandages are a permanent feature, and theres a rumor floating around that without it, there wouldn’t be much left to her---besides those piercing haunting eyes of course.

Has a very sweet, soft spoken voice. Almost as quiet as a distant whisper. 

Very good friends with Emma. Follows her around almost....an unnatural amount. Almost as if...she’s got some sort of attachment to her.

Has a grave in her back yard, which was not naturally there prior. Seems to have dug it herself. A comfort thing perhaps since to present knowledge she was never given proper burial.

A very kind dog, and very helpful if you give her the chance and look past her....otherworldly appearance.

Loves stitches like a baby brother, almost always hanging out with him more than anyone else, will protect him feircly.

Self conscious about her state of being dead, just wants to make friends and live a happy afterlife since hers was taken from her.

Loves gardening, though all her flowers turn into black roses....or die.

Favorite spot is the graveyard, the forest, and Emma’s orchards.

Thinks her and Isabelle would get along good! If....Isabelle didn’t run away from her.

Really loves K.K. Slider concerts. Always wants to be the first to attend them. Can he see her though? She’s not sure sometimes.

[winchester-interrupted]

Are You Kidding Me

Prompt: “Are you fucking kidding me?” 

Pairing: sam winchester x reader, dean

“Hold on, I think I found something!” you exclaimed, sitting up in your seat and clicking on the link displayed on your laptop screen. It was exactly 3:26 a.m; you and the boys had been sitting in the library researching your latest case. You had all figured you were dealing with a vengeful spirit, so the three of you had been looking into the towns history and scanning through old articles for hours now.

“Yes! Finally,” you sighed as the page finally loaded. You were already on your third cup of coffee if you started counting from 3 a.m and you hadn't slept in exactly 36 hours, so your patience with the slow wifi and faulty laptop was already wearing thin. 

You leaned forward and squinted your eyes to read the article, but what came up was definitely not what you clicked on. Your brows drew together in confusion,

“What? No, not this,” you huffed as you clicked the back button on your laptop. Dean looked up from his book across the room,

“Did you find it?” he questioned. 

“One sec,” you mumbled back, sighing as you clicked the link once more, figuring you might have clicked on the wrong thing. 

But again, the same page as last time came up; something about a local pie eating contest.

“What the fuck!” you cried, quickly getting more and more frustrated. Why wouldn't it pop up?! You were sure you clicked the right one.

Sam raised a brow at you from across the table at your little outburst. 

“Whats going on?” he carefully asked, already sensing the incoming meltdown that he knew had been brewing for quite some time now.

“I’m trying to click on an article I found about this- this suspicious death in the town, but it-” you squinted at the screen yet again, “It keeps pulling up some bullshit about a local pie eating contest!” You exclaimed, running your hands through your hair and dropping them loudly onto the table. 

Sam rose from his seat and came over to you, sitting behind you in your chair and looking over your shoulder at the screen, 

“It’s okay, it happens sometimes. Just try refreshing the page,” he said in a soothing voice. If he sensed it before he had no doubt now that you were on the verge of a meltdown. Despite the boiling rage and exhaustion in the pit of your stomach, you felt slightly better at the comforting presence of Sam behind you and you let yourself lean back into his solid chest.

You took a deep breath and clicked the little round arrow to the right of the search bar. It spun around a few times before refreshing your previous page. 

“Okay good, is that the link you’re trying to read?” Sam asked, pointing to the website on the screen that you had been trying to read for the past 10 minutes. You nodded.

“Alright, so click it one more time and it should pull up the right page this time” he leaned back, allowing space between his legs for you to sit comfortably on the seat in front of him that you were sharing. You took another deep breath and moved the cursor over the blue website and clicked it, silently begging it to work.

When it finally loaded, your face fell after you read the article title,

‘Annual pie eating contest, Traceburg’s very own Martin Stouffer taking the trophy after devouring 11 blueberry pies…’

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!” you slammed your hands on the table, startling the boys. They weren’t used to seeing you so angry, you were always the calm and composed one - it was very rare that you lost your temper so quickly over something so silly. But it was now 4 o’clock in the morning, you hadn’t slept in god knows how long, you were frustrated, and you had drank way too many cups of coffee than you should have. All you wanted was for this stupid page to load, but of course this had to happen. Of course.

“Whoah,” Dean was staring at you with wide eyes. Sam could feel the anger and tension radiating off of you and watched you drop your head to your hands in defeat.

“Hey hey hey, hold on a second ok? Lets try refreshing the page one more time and see what happens,” Sam spoke again in a voice you’d use to calm down a child having a temper tantrum, feeling you tense up and exhale a shaky breath when he put a comforting hand on your shoulder. 

You stared at the screen for a solid 30 seconds before you moved again, knowing fully well that if this happened one more time you were going to lose your shit. Like really, really lose your shit. Closing your eyes, you drew in a breath and exhaled out a shaky laugh.

“Okay, one more time” you mumbled under your breath. You clicked the little arrow and refreshed your page again, holding your breath as it loaded.

Are you kidding me. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME. 

Sure enough, the same article as before came up. 

Both boys watched you with expressions of fear and concern as your face changed from hopeful to absolutely livid, and lastly to a scarily calm but borderline psychotic look in your eyes before you began to quietly laugh.

“Nope, no no no no no,” you whined as your shoulders shook with quiet laughter that started to turn into crying, a single tear rolling down your face. You were fully aware that in this moment you seemed to be the epitome of mental unstability; but your reaction was the product of pure and absolute exhaustion.

“I cant, I cant, I cant.” You slammed your laptop shut in defeat, turning your body with a quiet whimper and burying your face in Sams chest. He wrapped his arms around you and rubbed your back, sharing a knowing look with Dean that you had definitely had enough for the night. 

You felt like such an absolute pathetic mess, whimpering and crying into Sam’s shirt like a toddler over something as small as a website link error. But it wasn’t just this little incident that made you break - it was the accumulation of back to back hunts, and hour of sleep here and there (if you were lucky), and a pain in your rib that hadn’t ebbed since that werewolf in Atlanta threw you into a cement wall a week ago. 

The boys both knew about your sleeping habits; or lack thereof, but hadnt really seen just how much of a toll it had on you. It was clear now though that one; you desperately needed sleep, and two; you needed a break from hunting and researching. You were all exhausted; it had been back to back cases for a while now and the three of you hadn’t caught a break in a long time.

‘She okay?’  Dean mouthed to Sam, who was still holding your slumped figure in his arms and rubbing a hand up and down your back. You had both your legs draped over Sams, your arms clung around his neck and your face still buried in his chest. You still felt humilated behaving like this in front of the boys - in front of Sam especially - but he made you feel safe and he just smelled so good. The feeling of his hands rubbing your back was hugely comforting, not to mention the fact that you were too weak and tired to move. 

After a little while of holding you and rubbing your back, Sam could feel your breathing gradually beginning to slow down and even out. Figuring that it was time for bed, he stood up with you in his arms; being extra careful not to disturb you. He nodded his head at Dean in the direction of the hallway to signal that he was taking you to bed before carrying your sleeping figure down the hall to your room. 

Sam nudged open the door with his foot and walked over to your bed, pulling down the sheets and comforter with one arm. As gently as he possibly could, he lowered you onto the bed. 

You scrunched your brows together in confusion, rolling onto your side and mumbling something before Sam could leave the room.

He froze in his tracks upon hearing your voice and turning in your doorway to look at you, he could have sworn he had heard you say something. Not wanting to leave incase you needed something, he walked a few steps closer, straining his ears to hear if you’d speak up again.  

With your face still buried in your pillow you repeated yourself, only a little clearer this time.

“Stay, please.” you mumbled softly. 

This time Sam had heard you. He hesitated, watching you carefully and deciphering whether or not he should stay or go back to the library and keep researching. 

His lip quirked up a little at the way your cheek was smushed against your pillow and the way you were lying on your stomach with one leg straight and the other wrapped around the pillow.

Huh, Sam thought. I’ve never envied a pillow before until now. 

He knew he should go back and help Dean, but there was something about the way you looked all cozy in his grey hoodie with your arm draped over your pillow and your soft curls splayed out around the pillow that made him cave and climb into bed beside you. Feeling the weight shift in the bed, you rolled over towards his open arms with a lazy smile as you cuddled into his chest and fell back asleep. He was happy that you were finally getting some rest; even happier that he was able to help you. 

He reached up and tucked a stray curl behind your ear and softly kissed your forehead,

“Sweet dreams, beautiful”.

[shanlulu-writing]

Levi x Reader I am all yours - Part 3

So here is the next part. Woohoo! This one has been quite hard to write as my CFS has really kicked in, but its here at least. This one is just filling out the next chapter. I hope you like, please comment and let me know your thoughts. You know I love it when you do. Thank you to all those who have supported me so far in writing this, and I will be back on it as soon as I start feeling better. Much love to you all xxx WARNING - Swearing from the outset. Part 3 “Ahem, Levi. A word.” The kiss stopped, and you turn your head to see Erwin. You watch Levi walk off still giving you an angry glare.

What the actual fuck?

You take a deep sigh of relief as you see them walk away. You needed air, to blow everything that had just happened away and you make your way outside. He kissed you. As in 'full on kissing' kissing, what the hell was that about? Your brain hurt as you try to come up with a reason for the way he was acting. It was so conflicted. On one hand he was a complete fucking maniac, and yet he had tried made sure you were okay in his own weird little way.

Were the rumours right? You couldn't think like that. He had treated you so badly, you couldn't possibly forgive him for what he had done. If you hadn't defended yourself you wouldn't be alive now. You were sure of that.

The wind blew around you as you reach the courtyard. You really should have put your cloak on before you came out. You wrap your arms around you as you walk along the path and you hear the horses whinny as the wind rattles the doors of the stables. You deviate from your undecided destination, and steal yourself inside. It was fairly warm in here, the horses paced around, obviously feeling unsettled. You speak calmly to them, giving each a pat or stroke, and you notice that it seems to soothe them.

Helping them calm down settled your nerves, and you walk past Captain Levi's horse, its dark eyes staring at you blankly. Like owner like horse. You watch him intently, and he whinnies again as another gust bashes against the walls. So it was his horse that was getting all flustered because of the wind. You slowly open the door to his berth, and walk over to him. He was nervous, so you talk to him in hushed tones, sending him reassurance, and you pat his side. He really was a beautiful horse, and definitely cream of the crop. You feel him shivering, and you frown, the horses should have been accustomed to the cold by now, they were bred for it, among other things. Searching round you find his winter coat, throw it over his back and fasten it round his neck. He looks at you and you sense he is thanking you. You were definitely going mad, the horse would start talking to you in a minute. You stroke his mane and pick up a brush and gently groom him.

“Its okay boy, I feel the cold too.” He shakes his head and nibbles at your jacket, you laugh as it takes you by surprise. “Haha, I don't think that's very tasty.” He nuzzles against your side, and you stroke his forehead lovingly. It was true, animals really did know how to make you feel better.

“He likes you.” You look up from where you were standing, and watch as the familiar figure walks towards you.

“Thanks.” You say flatly, not wanting to speak to him. “I hope you had a nice chat with Erwin.”

“I wouldn't call it that. He wasn't very happy, especially when I told him how much trouble you had been.” You pause what you're doing, and glare at him, just fucking typical for him to completely twist things in his favour. You look away from him and keep petting the horse, you weren't going to dignify him with a response. Captain Levi seemed to become annoyed at your silence, but you didn't care, he was not worth the effort. “Tsk. I forgot to mention you have no fucking manners.”

“Okay, did you also mention you have been a complete and utter jerk the past few months, and, oh, that you tried to kill me?” You feel you anger rising again, you had tried so hard to keep it under wraps, but he just knew how to piss you off. He just stares at you his eyes hard, face unmoving and he shrugs.

“That is neither here nor there.”

“You have got a fucking nerve. You treat me like shit for as long as I have been here, punish me at every given opportunity, try to kill me, isolate me from my friends and then on top of that you have the fucking audacity to think you have a right to kiss me. I mean, how fucking dare you!” You shake as the adrenaline rages through your body. Picking up one of the grooming brushes from the shelf you throw it at him, he anticipates your move, and elegantly moves out the way. The brush makes its way to the doorway and narrowly misses the new occupant of the stables.

“Commander Erwin. I-” You quickly apologise before being cut off.

“That is quite enough (last name).” He walks further into the stables and casts Levi a knowing, disdainful glance from the corner of his eye. “I hear that you two have been causing a fair amount of trouble.” You stand there feeling extremely ashamed of yourself, only turning to anger when you see Captain Levi's eyes smirking victoriously. “That includes you Levi. You have been running this poor girl through the ringer. I think the least you can do is apologise, don't you?” The Captain's eyes widen at being openly reprimanded and he looks to Commander Erwin with a look of pure astonishment. Erwin motions to you with his eyes, and you hear Captain Levi growl as he turns back to you.

“I apologise Cadet (Last name)” You hold a smirk back when you notice he said it with gritted teeth; you find it so highly amusing, you have to put a hand over your mouth to cage a laugh. Erwin gives you a sideways smile, he seems to be enjoying this as well.

“Come, Levi. Why so formal? You weren't so proper when you had her pinned up against the wall a few minutes ago.” You choke on air and feel your cheeks burning. Did he really just say that? You dart your eyes to the Captain. You see a faint hue of pink on his cheeks, and he bows his head to cover his eyes.

“Of course, Erwin. (First name), is that adequate?” You can sense from his sullen tone that he was feeling very uncomfortable, you totally knew how that felt. It was strange hearing your name being said by him, you preferred it a lot more to brat or idiot. Why did Erwin draw attention to how he found you? Why did he even mention it? Was it his way of pulling Captain Levi into line? Either way, all of this was a complete revelation to you. The Captain obviously respected Erwin, that much was evident, you didn't think that he would bow down to anyone else like this.

“It will do. Now (last name). I wanted to have a word with you.” You gulp, and nod cautiously. “I hear that you did very well in your training the other day. In fact not only did you best Kirstein, you bested Levi too.” You hear him chuckle.

“I wouldn't say that” Captain Levi retorted.

“I would. From all reports; she was completely incapacitated due to being in a suppressive choke hold, and still managed to disable you. At the end of the day Levi, she was the last one standing, she won that match fair and square.” He looks back to you. “Honestly, I never thought I would see the day that Levi got beaten by one of our new recruits.” This brought a reaction from Levi that was halfway between a scoff, and choking on his own ego. “Either way, due to your impressive display, I wanted to ask you personally for your participation in our next mission.” You eyes widen.

“It is only a small operation, a four man team needs to go one of our outposts, not far from here, and pick up some of Hanji's notes that she left behind from our last mission. It shouldn't pose too much danger, and I am sure that you will be able to handle it. It would also mean that you go into the same ranks as Jaegar, Alert and Kirstein etcetera.”

Your mouth gapes, does this mean you were effectively being promoted from newbie status? There was so much to think about. He was serious, he wanted you to go on a mission, and go out there with the titans. You may even get your wish of being trodden on by a Titan after all.

“I don't think that is such a good idea.” Captain Levi interjects, there is something in his eyes which you cant make out, he seems agitated with the news, and on all accounts, quite panicked. He flits his eyes to you, almost assessing what your answer will be and you just stand there not really sure what to say or do. “She doesn't have enough field training for this!”

“Well, that is the reason why you will be heading the team Levi. However, I do think she is more than capable of holding her own. She has already shown us that she doesn't flinch when it comes to her being face to face with a titan. She has good accuracy with her blades and is one of the better balanced ones with the 3dmg.”

He would be coming with you? You finally thought that you had found safety in Erwin, but he was throwing you out to the wolves again. You sigh and nod, at least he acknowledged your hard work. You watch Captain Levi, was he angry again? You see his fist clench and release again. What was he pissed about now? Because he would be working with you? Or that it had been made official that you beat him in a fight?

“Ah, also, Levi, even though you will be heading this team. I think it would be best to see it as a four man squad, rather than a trio with a leader. I would like to see you go out there as equals, I think after the recent displays, it would be best to show the cadets that you aren't, how did you put it (last name)? Yes that's it, 'a complete jerk'.” You chuckle, something about Erwin saying it, made it even funnier. Captain Levi glares at you from underneath his eyebrows, which you ignore, turning your head to look at anything else.

“Tsk.” Is that all he really had to say? You could see that there was something more going on here. What it was, you were definitely not privy to. Go out as equals? Erwin wanted to make sure that he couldn't use his rank against you? It was a dangerous plan at any rate, you weren't going to be safeguarded by anyone else.

“Commander? Who else will be going on the mission?” You ask meekly. You almost wanted him to say Eren, though in the same breath, maybe it wasn't such a good idea. Eren was so protective, and Captain Levi was so, well... Levi, that there would be more danger from them than the titans.

“I have selected Blouse and Kirstein. They need a little more field experience, but they are solid team themselves. No, Levi; I do not want any more arguments from you. I have already told you once, I will not repeat myself. Do not make me embarrass you further today.”

You watch as Captain Levi drags his teeth over his bottom lip in an attempt to stop himself from snapping back at his Commander. They had obviously had some harsh words when Erwin had dragged him off. The thought of having to spend time with him officially worried you, but orders were orders, and at least you had Sasha and Jean with you.

“One more thing. I think it would be best for both of you to cool off. Stay away from each other for a few days, the mission is in three days time, so try your best to steer clear of each other.” What a strange request, but you felt it was actually a very good idea, it meant you had space to talk and be with your friends and get some sort of normality back before venturing out. Commander Erwin turns on his heels and leaves you alone with Captain Levi.

“Well your horse seems to have calmed down now, so I'll get going.” You walk past him, making your way as quickly as possible. He catches you arm firmly and you turn to him in surprise.

“Don't do anything stupid.” You look at him in puzzlement. “I mean it, Br.... (first name)” He lets go of you and then makes his own way out of the stables leaving you more confused than when you had entered. He had called you by your first name again, you hated to admit it but you rather liked how it sounded coming from him. Strangely it gave you a weird sense of acceptance, even if the first time had been forced and probably meant anything but.

You shut the door behind you and scan the area for your teammates, and find they were sitting in the courtyard chatting. The wind had died down, and the sun was peeking weakly through the clouds. You couldn't help but smile at them, they really had showed you how much they cared, even Mikasa, she had bothered to ponder about a situation you were in and given it real thought. That was something quite phenomenal.

“(first name)!” You hear Armin beckon you over. You make your way over to them, and sit down on the wall just behind them. The faces looking at you were mixed with anticipation and worry, you laugh at your audience.

“You will never guess what happened!” You stop, you weren't going to tell them about the kiss, no way. “I think Erwin ripped Mr Stick-up-his-Ass a new one!” You couldn't help but giggle as you hear the gasps sound around you.

“So what did he say?”

“I didn't hear the actual conversation, but Captain Levi tried to make out that it was me causing all the problems. I don't think Erwin believed him though. They both spoke to me in the stables, and he made the Captain apologise.”

“What?! He knows how?” Sasha squealed, she really was excitable. “What happened next?”

“Please tell me he got kicked by a horse” Eren asked dismissively, you look at him with a heavy heart, he really wasn't happy.

“No Eren, he didn't, something much better. Erwin asked me to go on a mission to pick up Hanji's notes in a four man squad.”

“Yeah, we got told about that last night. Didn't realise you were coming along with us.” Jean commented, seemingly as uninterested as Eren.

“But did he tell you that even though the Captain is coming, he isn't leading us?” That made everyone stop what they were doing and pay undivided attention to you. “He has been told in no uncertain terms that we are to all go as equals.”

“WHAT!?” The chorus was hilarious to your ears.

“You don't mean that he isn't going to be bossing us about all mission?” Sasha asks in disbelief.

“That's exactly what I mean. You have no idea how pissed the Captain was!” You laugh again, the whole situation made you feel like you were soaring through the sky, you felt so happy, you had all your friends around you and you finally have one up on Mr Bipolar.

“I still don't like it. You are going to be alone with him and away from any help, he could easily pull the same stunt over again and leave you out there to die.” You sigh as you notice Eren standing with his arms folded, you hop off the wall and rub his arm. “Eren, it will be okay. I have Jean and Sasha with me. Nothing will happen. I promise.”

“I hope for your sake it doesn't.” You roll your eyes and sit down with Sasha and Jean to talk about the upcoming mission, and go over the details that they had already been given.

~

It had been a long day, and you were curled up in your bed. Most of the girls were already asleep, and you stare blankly at the wall, thinking on everything that had happened. Every reasoning about how the Captain had acted just left more questions, it was hopeless. You shift, tucking your feet further into the covers, when you feel your mattress dip, your covers lift up and someone slip into the bed next to you. You whip your head round in fear, when you see Sasha's familiar face looking at you and you relax.

“Hey. There was something I wanted to ask you.” She whispers in an attempt to not to wake the others. “It feels like you left something out of your story earlier. What was it?” You grimace, you really didn't want to let anyone know what really happened. If she knew and anyone found out you would have to explain something that you didn't understand; not something you wanted to do.

“Sasha, just leave it.” You murmur.

“No, I can tell its eating you up. You gave me your dinner, that's not like you at all.” You sigh, you can see real concern in her eyes, this must be what having a friend feels like.

“Okay. Don't freak out. He kissed me.” She gasps, and you put a finger to your mouth to quiet her. “It was really weird, like he did it because he was so angry with me.” You continue to whisper. “ I don't know why he did it so don't ask me why. Erwin caught us, just before he pulled him aside.”

“Oh my god! I cant believe it.” You try to hush her again.

“You must keep this to yourself. I don't want to have to explain everything to people, so please, please don't say anything!” You can see her eyes shining and her mindless grin even in the darkness.

“I promise, I promise. Did you like it?” You are completely caught off guard with the question. Had you? You had been shocked but you hadn't really given the experience much thought. You could say it was fairly passionate, he was pissed off for one thing, but he had pinned you up against the wall, and had kissed you quite forcefully. You feel your body shiver at the thought and pull the covers over yourself further, hoping it is the cold night air.

“I don't know.” Your brain was desperately trying to keep up with all the thoughts running round your head. On the logical side of your brain you were still angry with the way you had been treated, you were scared of him, and quite rightly. On an emotional level, your thoughts were not so clear, that kiss -even being as rough as it was- had played on your mind since it happened.

“Well either which way, I think he likes you, even if he is really crap expressing it.”

“That's putting it mildly.” You laugh under your breath.

You talk about the impending mission for a little while longer, Sasha retreats to her own bed and as you drift off to sleep your thoughts are filled with the Captain.

~

Three days later....

You had slept badly, your slumber filled with tense dreams that you couldn't remember. You had woken early, and checked that all your belongings were packed. You had dressed and made your way to the stables to check on your horse and load the small bags with your packed items. You munched on the small breakfast that you had prepared for yourself, you were leaving early anyway, and would have missed the morning meal in the mess hall.

You go to sit down by the lake on the far side of the courtyard. It was very quiet, with the odd bird tweeting in the distance. You watch, as the horizon turns from a beautiful orange, to a pale pink as the sun creeps its way up from the land and into the sky. You smile at the sight, it really was quite breath taking. You hear footsteps behind you, but you don't look to see who it is, you didn't care, you were enjoying your view far too much.

“It really makes you feel human doesn't it?” Captain Levi stands beside you; it wasn't really a question, more of a statement. “No matter what happens, the sun will rise and set, completely disregarding the world it shines down on.” You don't answer but you nod. As deep as it was, he was right. Things move on and the world still turns, even if people die.

“What's gotten into you?” You say after a few minutes of silence. “You planning on dying today Captain.”

“Not if I can help it. I would prefer it if you didn't try to kill me with your incompetency on the field.” You growl at the comment, there was really no need for it. Up until this point it had been fairly amicable. Trust him to ruin the moment.

“Well, Levi.” You make a point at disregarding his rank, he wasn't the boss any more, not on this mission any how. “I would hate to be the cause of your death, it would be dreadfully ironic, though wouldn't it? Killed in action by one of your own teammates.” You end the sentence dryly.

“Tsk” You hear his feet shift. “Just because Commander Erwin told you we are equals, doesn't mean that I am not your superior.”

“Whatever Levi! Orders are orders.” You hear the sound of footsteps coming towards you, turning round you spot Jean and Sasha heading for your direction. Sasha looks extremely tired, she must not have slept well either, Jean however looked determined.

“Are we going then?” Jean asks directly to you rather than Levi. You give him a sideways glance and see that he is clenching his teeth again. You nod and get up from your seated position, you make your way over to the stables with the new arrivals, leaving Levi standing at the lake on his own.

“Are your horses ready?” You ask as you saddle your horse and check the reins. They confirm, and you walk your horses out of the stables. Levi passes you without even an acknowledgement , and soon returns with his horse. You walk the horses over to the equipment shed and get your gear together. Nerves start to show in your hands as they shake; were you worried about the mission? Or being on the mission with Levi? You give in trying to figure it out and clap your hands to shake out the trembles.

You gear up and walk outside, and mount your horse, waiting for the others. They soon file out and get on their own horses. Everyone is fairly quiet, Levi, as normal was mute and aloof. You all follow him out of the courtyard and make your way down towards the outpost.

As you ride through, you realise it really was quite beautiful, if you ignored the derelict buildings and eerie quiet. The birds sang as they flew out overhead, the green pastures now wild and unkempt. You ride your horse hard, and you feel all the doubts and anger of the last few months blow away as you speed along. You ride for hours, not daring to stop. You remember in training that you had to be constantly moving, otherwise you may as well be a sitting duck. You contemplate the time when you had witnessed the titans for the first time. They were the stuff of nightmares. No one could imagine something so monstrous, yet here they were destroying humanity with every mouthful. You had managed to take one down, unscathed. Some others in your team however, hadn't been so lucky. You feel your heart pull as you remember your teammates, in pieces. That was not going to happen again, not on your watch!

“Are we far, Levi?” Your legs begin to ache as the horses start to slow down, and you shift uncomfortably in the saddle. Your ride had been clear of any titans, which had been lucky, and you were somewhat relieved.

“No. We should be there shortly.” His voice is short and slightly breathy. You muse he should sound like that more often, his breathing made his words sound a little softer. It suited him. Maybe you should have him chase you round the courtyard before you let him talk to you, he might inadvertently sound nicer.

The horses slow to a trot as you walk through a path with buildings either side. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck prickle, and you become more alert. You can't even hear the birds calling any more. You hear a massive crashing sound to the side of you, your horse bolts down an alleyway to your left when you hear Sasha scream.

You jump off your horse and run back, your horse would be fine, just useless at the moment. You knew something was wrong. As you reach the place you had been before the horse ran, you look up to see a Titan, with Levi firmly in its grasp.

“LEVI!” Your eyes scan the area for the others and notice Sasha pulling an unconscious Jean into a building and Levi's gear crushed on the ground below you. It must have been damaged in the initial blow. Fuck! You fire off your 3dmg, zipping up to the building near the Titan and run across the roof. Your boots pound across the rooftop, tiles slipping from beneath you as your mind runs into overdrive. Blind-siding this monster was the only way you could start on the attack. You hear Levi yell, and see the Titan raising him to its mouth. Adrenaline surges through you, seemingly bringing time to a standstill. The titan's motion seems to blur slightly as you focus, and in that moment you shoot your line to the Titan's arm while slashing frantically, managing to slice the hand off at the wrist, although shattering your blades in the process as they bounce off bone. The Titan howls and swings out with its damaged arm, causing you to lose balance. Your hair whips behind you as you plummet downwards, watching the floor rise up to meet you, and somehow in the nick of time you send out another line and swing out to catch Levi, just before he hits the ground.

Sasha comes out from her hiding place to bundle Levi inside, just one glance shows you he's completely dazed. You grab your next set of blades and whistle through the air back at the titan. Back on the roof, the behemoth ploughs a hand through the slates next to you and takes out part of the roof, almost ripping your feet out from underneath you. With a crack, your next line flies out in desperation, and hooks deeply into the Titan's jaw. You reel yourself in and set off to take the bastard down, knowing timing is everything. You glide around it, readying yourself to strike when it swipes around and catches one of your legs. If it could laugh, you are sure it would have done. You struggle desperately to get free without any luck.

“(FIRST NAME)!!” You hear a voice call your name. Fear stricken, and urgent, it wasn't one you recognised. Taking a quick look down you see Levi, leaning in a door way staring up at you unable to do anything. It was enough to shake you from your stupor and with a single movement you slice through the fingers holding your leg, ripping your uniform on your left shin. You set a line which pierces its shoulder blade and while reeling yourself in, you run up its back. You drag your blades across its skin, and pound them through the flesh at its weak point giving you enough force to hurl yourself to safety. With a pitiful wail, the titan comes smashing to the ground and you remind yourself that oxygen is indeed necessary as you breathe a sigh of relief. You scan the area from your position...

All clear, thank goodness...

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOUR DOING?!” You hear as you put your feet back down on solid ground. Levi, limping slightly, storms up towards you.

“Saving your ass, I think.” You give him a smile, but you realise that he is fuming and your face falls. You didn't get it. You did enough to save everyone, as far as you knew everyone was okay.

“You were being fucking reckless. You seriously are a bloody idiot. I should never have let Erwin put you on this mission!”

“Excuse me! If I hadn't have been here you would have been Titan chow!” You roar back at him. “Dead. You know? As in, not able to be giving me the third degree right now!” You couldn't believe it, what the fuck? Was he really riding your ass because you saved him? What an egotistical prick!

“Levi, she didn't do anything wrong” You notice Jean slowly walking up with a bad cut to his head. Sasha followed quickly behind him. “She saved us all, if she hadn't kept its attention, we'd all be dead.” His voice was cold, and cutting. “And that definitely includes you. Stop being a moronic ass, and let's get the horses and go.”

“Tsk. Fucking brats!” You watch in astonishment as he walks off and picks up his damaged gear. Jean and Sasha walk up behind you as you watch him slink off to find his horse. You were livid, and you turn to them with a look of complete loss.

“What's up with him?” Sasha asks.

“I should have let the Titan eat him. I wont be saving him again, that's for sure.” You reply with malice, not really answering her question.

“There's something not right” You look at Jean with a raised eyebrow. “Well, more than usual, and its all directed at you Mrs Ackerman.” He smirks at you and you roll your eyes.

“Not that shit again.” You walk off to find your horse and sure enough, there he was, still in the alleyway. You walk him back and find Sasha and Jean already mounted on their horses. Patting your horse to reassure him, you saddle up. You trot along the path and find Levi waiting for you, he shoots you a glare and then huffs as he starts off without you.

You ride for another 10 minutes feeling extremely achy and arrive at the outpost. The place is completely deserted, and you carefully make your way to the entrance. You walk the horses around to the old paddock and make sure that they have food and water. Grabbing your belongings from the saddle bags you slowly make your way into the building.

The outpost main building was dusty and dark, and smelt of mould; although fortunately it still seemed sturdy enough to protect the team. You find a place to sit down in what you believed to be some sort of rest room or social quarters. Leaning back in the chair, you sigh as you relax your tired muscles and aching joints. Everything hurt, and on the come down from all the adrenaline, you definitely feel like shit.

“(first name)” Sasha calls though from another room. “I'm just going to take Jean up to the medical room here and get cleaned up.” You hear Jean bitching about her mothering him as their voices get further away... So typically Jean.

“What is it with you?” You don't even bother turning to see who it is, Levi's voice was clearly distinctive. You don't answer, as you know it wasn't really intended as a question. “You have a total disregard for your own safety. You were lucky you didn't die out there.” Even though the words themselves were of concern, his tone was not, he was incredulous.

“Maybe, maybe not, but I didn't and neither did you.” You reply, your voice was curt and you cut yourself short to stop yourself from ranting at him and his stupid attitude.

“Brat, did you ever stop to think that you might be important to people alive?” You scowl at him.

“Well, sure. Everyone is better off being alive.” Your voice is dismissive. What a stupid statement. “But if you dare talk to me like that again, you wont be around to shout at me afterwards!”

“Say that again, Brat! I fucking dare you.” His eyes flashed. You get up out of your chair and walk towards him slowly, preparing yourself.

“Talk to me again and I will shut you up-” You are interrupted as he grabs you and pulls you towards him. “Levi! Don't even think about it!” remembering the last encounter, your left hand whips to your hip, fingers closing around the field knife at your waist.

“Shut up, (First Name) Your leg's bleeding.” He used your name? Wait, what?! You allow yourself to watch as he kneels down, then you see your ripped and heavily bloodied trousers. You had a gash on your right thigh, a fucking big one... How the hell did that happen? Why hadn't you noticed? He examines it and stands up quickly, grabbing your arm and throwing you over his shoulder.

“Hey!”

“We need to clean the wound. You don't want to die of sepsis do you?” His voice may have softened slightly, but that still didn't stop you struggling to get away from him. His arm clamps around you tightly even preventing you from squirming, so you resign yourself to fate. You rest your head in your hand in annoyance as he walks you to the medical room...

[my-creative-hell]

Before (Avengers au)

This whole situation was fucked. It was supposed to be a simple mission, get in, beat the bad guys up, and get out quick before the press had a chance to catch them and pry them for interviews. That’s how it was supposed to go so how did they get here?

Turns out, these particular bad guys knew exactly who they were, and how they worked. They had planned their attacks to use all of their weaknesses, and somehow it had worked. Hannah’s blindness had been used against her, distorted noises playing to mess with her sense of space. Iden’s guard had been broken using Jake, who had been caught out while running and most definitely at least had a broken arm. Leena had been doing well until they figured out her sequence of attacks, which had thrown her for a loop.

And Grave, well, Grave had been stabbed, simply put. Blood was leaking onto the floor, covering Hannah’s knees as she kneels next to the younger teen, and muttering reassurances, though she wasn’t even sure if she believed them herself.

Grave didn’t, she was shaking and crying, the pain boring into her memory as she lay on the floor, Hannah’s hands over the wound, pressing it shut and trying to stop the blood that was escaping from her torn flesh. Hannah’s expression was one of deep pain for the younger teammate she had come to view as family, and she would wince every time Grave cried.

“I know it hurts hun, just hole on, okay? Iden will be here soon.” It was more of a wish than a promise. Iden was the least injured of all of them, his ridiculous strength the only advantage they currently had. Hannah could see him fighting, throwing men left and right, his expression more anger stricken than she had ever seen.

“Are you sure?” Grave asks in a small shaky voice. She’s biting her hand in an effort not to cry out and make too much noise, though Hannah could still hear small whimpers coming from her, each one breaking her heart a little more.

“I hope so… if not, you might have to do something, hun.” Hannah says gently, knowing she couldn’t promise what she didn’t know. She didn’t know if Iden would win and if he would be able to fix this, if he would have enough energy to even try. The thought of losing Grave was the worst part, and Hannah didn’t want to risk it. No matter the cost.

“Okay, cool. Great. This is awesome.” Grave was panicking, trying to even her breathing and slow it down and breathe normally. Trying not to panic. But Hannah could feel it bubbling up inside Grave.

“Hey, its okay. You’ll be okay. Just breathe.” Hannah reassures, keeping her voice quiet and comforting, trying her best to remain calm sounding despite the worry and fear that was flooding inside of her, threatening to spill over at any second.

“O-okay.” Grave nods gently and Hannah can feel her starting to take normal breathes, breathing in deep and letting it go, making her feel a slight bit better. But she knew the situation was still bad. Grave needed help, and she may not get it, so something else had to be done.

“Okay, we’re okay. Look, hun, you might have to use your abilities here.” Hannah admits, wincing. She didn’t even know if Grave was in any condition to use them, but it was a last resort. She could hear Iden in the background, and it didn’t sound good.

Grave nods and Hannah can feel her clench her fists and begin going back in time, smiling gently, hoping it would turn out okay as she fades away as Grave goes back. But it’s all fuzzy. Grave tries to stop, it’s going back farther than she wants it to, but she can’t stop it.

When she comes back, the same building is around her. But its empty, abandoned, the walls covered in peeling paint and the floors dirty and unkempt underneath Grave as she sits up, the wound now gone, but with no idea of where exactly she was.

Grave knew the abandoned building was close to where the team lived, but with no knowledge of when she was in time, she couldn’t exactly just go up and knock on the door. What if it was too early, or she was already there?

Grave stands up swiftly, heading out of the building as fast as possible, not wanting to be stuck in there a second longer than she had to be. Opening the unchained doors, she steps into the world. It was buzzing, people walking past her at all sorts of different speeds, heading to work or milling through the shops on the street. Everybody was so focused on their own shit; no body noticed the slightly distressed teen exiting the abandoned building.

It almost made Grave laugh as she begins to hear a clicking noise. At first, it confuses Grave; her believing it might have been her bones that were clicking. Though, when she turns her head she manages to see Hannah standing outside a coffee shop. She appeared to be waiting for something and was tapping her white cane in a bored manner, face displaying the same emotion behind her sunglasses.

Grave gets a flash of happiness run through her, and almost runs up to the shorter woman, but she quickly remembers that this was Hannah from the past. This Hannah was wearing sunglasses to hide her eyes, and her Hannah never did that anymore, saying it was a waste of time. The realisation makes her sad.

This Hannah seems to feel something is amiss, a slight flash of something passing inside her head, a voice she didn’t know, but seemed to feel comfortable with. It makes her feel funny. Out of curiosity, she turns her head towards the strange feeling, sensing that someone was there and probably staring at her.

“Ohshit- um… hi.” Grave says nervously as she realises Hannah has noticed her presence, watching as Hannah raises a single eyebrow in questioning.

“You’re gonna have to get closer if you want a conversation.” Her voice is dull when she speaks, the normal life Grave’s Hannah would have seemingly nonexistent as she speaks. This Hannah seems bored with the world, and unwilling to be a part of it, her voice reflecting those emotions.

Grave gets closer, still nervous as she approaches this new old version of Hannah.

“H-hi Han-I mean… hi.” Grave corrects herself, not wanting to say her name. This Hannah didn’t know her, and it would make it so weird, and lead to a lot of explanations Grave didn’t even know if she was allowed to give.

“You sound like a kid, why did you wanna talk to me?” Hannah questions as she tilts her head. Whoever was in front of her was young, definitely not an adult, and by the sound of them they were around ten, way too young to be talking to a twenty year old.

“Because… I-I…” Grave starts to play with her shirt as she talks, twiddling it between her fingers to try and curb her anxiety. “I didn’t… mean to come back this far, but I cant go back until later so…” Grave sighs, sounding upset. “Why am I telling you this-” She cuts herself off as Hannah listens to her. As much as Hannah didn’t know what was going on, and as much as she didn’t like people, hearing a small child sounding so upset made her feel weird, and she didn’t like that.

“Look, I can tell you’re panicking, so just breathe, alright? Whatever’s happening, I’m sure it’ll be fine in the end.” Hannah’s voice lacks the normal softness Grave would be used to, but she could tell it was in there, even if it seemed to be clouded. The words had the same sentiment, even if her Hannah would have phrased it a little differently and maybe a bit kinder.

“Yeah… thanks.” Grave nods. She feels a little bit calmer about the situation, but her mind wasn’t quite caught up with it all yet. Her head was still slightly unscrewed, and she didn’t know how long that would take to fix itself.

“You’re like, ten right? What are you doing out here all alone?” Hannah questions frowning. If it was any other person, she wouldn’t care, but a kid being alone on a street Hannah knew to be very busy felt wrong to her. Wrong and off.

“I-I um… missed… the bus to get home.” Grave bold face lies to Hannah. She couldn’t exactly tell her the truth, that she came back in time way too far and is now stuck there for a few days, shed surely sound crazy.

“Mhm, sure thing kid. I meant why aren’t your parents with you, a kid shouldn’t be left alone, ever.” Hannah states clearly, seeing through the lie in a second and aiming her hidden empty eyes down at Grave where the much younger girl stood, slightly shorter than her now.

“Because… they suck.” Grave says honestly, looking at Hannah as she raises her eyebrows, that response seeming to have surprised her a bit, a small pit of worry in her brain at that.

“They suck, huh?” She questions, knowing the kid wasn’t really lying. She knew all the ways a parent could suck, and some were way worse than others. But all kids deserved good parents in Hannah’s eyes. She knew all about sucky parents, and didn’t really like the thought of other kids going through the same things.

“Mhm.” Grave says simply as she looks at Hannah, her face black even though she knew Hannah wouldn’t be able to see it.

“So, are you planning on going home to your sucky parents?” Hannah questions, the concern that was inside her not showing through on her face as she talks to the child. She had no idea what the answer would be; it all depended on how bad the parents were and how stubborn the kid was.

“I guess I could walk there. It’s only like… three of five blocks to get there and it’s not that late-” Grave ponders as she stands in front of Hannah, thinking about what she could do. Hannah was thinking too, wondering about this kid and their home life.

“Do you not wanna go home?” Hannah questions, the concern increasing at the kids seeming disinterest at going home to their parents. Most ten year olds would be crying for their parents and would jump at the chance of going home, but not this kid. And admittedly, that worried Hannah, though she would never show it.

“I mean, kinda? On one hand, my parents are home, on the other hand, I don’t have to talk to them and on one foot, if I don’t go home then my mum would be mad.” Grave explains as she thinks, and Hannah gets genuinely concerned now. It was evident the child didn’t want to go home because of their parents, and that struck something inside of Hannah.

“How sucky are your parents, kid?” Hannah asks, concerned. She didn’t want a bad answer, but she couldn’t knock out the possibility of getting one from this kid, and then what would she do? She didn’t know if she could let a small child go home to bad parents, but what was she supposed to do instead?

“Not extremely sucky, but they do yell at each other a lot and get mad when I try to say anything, but then again my mum did give birth to me and I’m living under the house she bought, so I don’t really have any say in anything she does.” Grave shrugs it off, clearly used to all of this. Hannah huffs in an annoyed tone.

“You don’t owe your parents respect just because they made you, kid. They shouldn’t be yelling at you all the time.” Hannah sounds neutral enough, but inside her head she was frustrated with the parents of this kid for making her think this situation was perfectly fine. Parents can argue, sure, but do it away from the damn kids, and don’t yell at them when they try to speak their minds.

“How do I not? I spent nine whole months in her and she decided to keep me, I should be grateful for that.” Grave tries to justify, showing her naive side to Hannah. Kids often didn’t believe their parents could be bad people and would wave off their misdeeds in the hope of attention and love. Hannah knew that all too well.

“Just because a parent decides to keep their kid, doesn’t make them a good parent, trust me…” Hannah remembers her human parents her and her twin brother were given after being kicked from heaven and reborn as more human. They were atrocious, but for the longest time, the twins ignored it in the hopes they would be loved. It was wrong, not to mention a complete waste of their time.

“Oh… okay.” Grave sounds downtrodden. She believes Hannah, even if she still feels like she owes her parents respect, even when they don’t give her any of her own. Hannah’s concern for the child grows, actually cracking onto her face a little in furrowed eyebrows and a slightly softer voice.

“I don’t mean to upset you, kid, but you gotta know your own self worth. If you really want to go home, I won’t top you.” Hannah says simply, listening to the air around them as Grave thinks. She didn’t need sight to know the kind of expression that the kid would be wearing, and she felt bad for putting it there.

“I don’t wanna go home. I-I can… stay at a friend’s house until tomorrow, I’ll tell my mum tho-” Grave explains, though her voice catches Hannah’s attention slightly, a slight tremor behind it.

“Hey, no reason to get upset. You okay?” Hannah asks, her eyebrows conveying her concern a bit more as she talks to the kid in front of her.

“I’m fine. I’m actually kinda happy because it’s not a school night and I can stay up late.” Hannah can feel the kid smiling, which calms her down a little.

“That sounds like a good plan.” Hannah remarks as she listens to the kid in front of her, her voice s bit lighter and back to its more neutral tone many would mistake for cold and blunt.

Grave’s phone vibrates as she speaks, making her check her phone. Apparently her friend had an insane sense of timing, as she had text her at that very moment.

“hhh I gotta go to the day camp for a while and phones aren’t allowed but I’ll text you when it over uwu.”

“Hm. Fuck.” Was all Grave could say in response, slightly surprising Hannah with the swearing, though she chose not to say anything about it. This wasn’t her kid, what did it matter?

“Fuck?” Hannah questions, unable to know what was going on until the young child explained it to her. She had heard the phone, and could only assume whatever was on it wasn’t something Grave had wanted to read.

“Fuck.” Grave replies, and Hannah could tell she was nodding, even though she couldn’t see it. Hannah scrunches up her face as she replies; reminding Grave she doesn’t know the situation.

“Why? I don’t know what’s going on.” Hannah says firmly as she waits for the small child to reply to her.

“My friend isn’t gonna be home today.” Grave explains to Hannah, sounding frustrated as Hannah understands the situation she has been placed in.

“Oh, well fuck.” Hannah replies bluntly, brain thinking of other options for the child who didn’t want to return home, face neutral as her brain runs a thousand miles a second. She sighs before speaking again. “Look, I realise this is probably super weird, and feel free to say no. but you seem to have a weird… knowledge of me, so if you wanted to stay at mine and my brothers place tonight, I wouldn’t be against it. We both took childcare classes and used to be babysitters, so its not like we have no experience.” That wasn’t a lie, Hannah and Iden would baby-sit all the time when they were younger, and had kids even stay round theirs when their parents were working.

“…Alright, sounds legit.” Grave says in a blunt voice, though she was secretly very excited to spend time with the twins, especially since Hannah at least seemed to be very different to the version of her she knew. Plus, she knew them. She knew they would never hurt anyone, especially a child. She knew she was safe, and that was enough for her to look forward to this.

“We just gotta wait for my brother… though, it is cold out, are you wearing a coat?” Hannah questions, unable to tell by the noises coming from Grave’s clothing what the answer to that question was. It was cold outside, even Hannah could feel it biting into her skin as she stands.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Grave replies simply as she shifts to stand closer to the edge of the shop, away form the people bustling into the shops. Winter was always hectic, and the Christmas rush had definitely begun, shoppers running around.

“My brother works down the street in the old bookshop there.” Hannah explains, pointing a finger in the direction she meant. “You wanna walk down and meet him?” Hannah asks Grave as she points.

“Yeah, he sounds cool.” Grave nods happily, though she tries to hide it, and the fact that she already knows Iden is very cool. Hannah smiles, and it actually looks genuine on her face for a moment when she does.

“Yeah, he is, let’s go. Oh, uh, a tip, walk slightly behind me so I don’t smack you.” Hannah explains to the child, though she had a feeling that somehow, she would already know this.

“I already know.” Grave smiles as she answers, getting slightly behind Hannah as she begins to walk, swinging the stick as she steps. Hannah huffs at that, though it isn’t annoyed sounding, more amused.

“Had a feeling you would.” She replies, smiling inside. This kid was strange, but she kind of liked it about them. “Hey, I know you know my name, but I didn’t get your…” Hannah reminds the child as they slowly start to walk.

“Oh! Its Grave.” Grave replies as she matches pace with Hannah, making Hannah smile again, though it was smaller, it still placed genuinely on her face.

“Nice to meet ya, kid.” Hannah says with a slightly warmer voice as she leads Grave to the bookshop.

As they walk, Hannah can feel the temperature dropping in the air, and it starts to smell cold too, making her huff as she knows the inevitable conclusion. As if on cue, something small and cold touches her nose, melting into a drop of water as it hits her warm skin. Snow. From the feeling, it was coming down pretty well and heavy, and would probably be there for a few days at least.

“Hhhh its  s n o w.” Grave says happily, and Hannah can feel her shaking next to her, though it seemed to be from excitement rather than the cold around them.

“You like the snow?” She asks the kid, even though she already knew the answer to that question from Grave’s reaction, making her smile inside.

“Yeah! It feels nice.” Grave explains. It’s a take Hannah had never heard. They had never really placed or done anything in the snow when they were kids, so her opinion was neutral. Maybe she would like it more if she could see what it looked like. Iden had told her it sparkled under the light.

“Suppose so, yeah. The bookshop should be down here.” Hannah turns into the smaller alley she knew was there form her mentally mapped route, recognising the cracks in the pieces of concrete that reassured her she was walking in the right direction. She reaches the door and looks to where she knows Grave is standing. “You cool with going inside?” Hannah questions.

“Y e s. I love b o o k s.” Grave says happily, making Hannah smile as she pushes open the door into the old bookshop.

“Let’s go then.” She says as she walks into the shop. It was warm inside, books stacked high on the shelves, some newer, but most of them were old and classical books in their original covers, painstakingly cared for and sold to people who wanted them. Hannah knew Iden would be sitting at the counter, potentially reading himself. She knew his long black hair would be tied back in a bun, as it always was for work, whereas she let her cropped ginger hair do what it wanted.

Grave starts to sweat immediately in the warmth of the shop, warm was not something that got along with her after some of her… experiences. Her breathing became slightly harder too, her lungs having to work.

“Hey Iden.” Hannah hears him put down a book. He was reading. Hannah can hear Grave shift beside her, but getting flushed and finding it hard to breath can come naturally between two harshly different environments, so she doesn’t say anything, though she does keep an ear out for further changing.

“Hannah, are you aware a child followed you in?” Iden questions, placing his bookmark back into his book as he sets it down, looking at his blind twin in questioning, knowing she would know the expression on his face. Hannah huffs in response, voice blunt once again.

“Yeah, I brought her. look, long story cut very short, she’s staying with us tonight.” Hannah explains in her normal dull voice, surprising Iden, though he smiles at them both.

“Okay, that’s no problem with me.” He says happily as Grave watches them. She feels very happy inside to be with them and watch this, but physically she was in pain, the warmth attacking her in uncomfortable ways. It didn’t help that it was stuffy in the shop too.

“Hi!” Grave puts it aside, waving to Iden with a smile on her face. Now that she had been placed in her ten year old body, he looked even bigger than he normally did.

“Hiya, what’s your name?” Iden smiles slightly as he looks down at Grave, who was focusing on answering and trying not to think about the warm stuffy shop she was currently in.

“I-I’m Grave. It’s nice to meet you.” Grave replies happily, though the air burned her skin, though she knew no burn marks would be left on her skin.

“Iden, and it’s nice to meet you too kiddo.” He says happily as he looks down at her, coming out from the counter and placing a book near Hannah, allowing her to hear it. “Okay, I have to sort some stuff in the back before I can leave. Do you guys mind waiting? Hannah, I left a Braille book out for you on the counter by the edge.” Iden explains. Hannah shrugs in response.

“I don’t mind, kid, you cool to wait?” She asks Grave as she grabs the book on the counter, packing her cane into her bag and skimming her finger over the title, opening the book when she decides it’s interesting enough to bother reading.

“Yeah!” Grave replies, not fully paying attention to them. Iden was already gone so she was focusing on gripping her legs and trying not to comment on the pain that was spreading through her skin.

“Do you wanna try and fine a book to pass the time?” Hannah questions as she reads her own, pointing in the direction of all the other bookcases in the shop as she does so, face neutral as she reads.

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” Grave says as she nods, watching as Hannah nods back at her and continues reading her book, finger gliding over the pages, showing how experiences she was with reading Braille.

Grave manages to find a book and flips it open, reading to try and distract herself from the pain that is slowly rising in her body, but it keeps going up and up, making Grave feel worse and worse as she tries to distract herself. grave slows her breathing down in an effort to forcefully cool herself down, but in a shop this warm and stuffy, it didn’t have a hope of helping, and the pain keeps climbing up and up. Grave puts the book down to focus on her efforts, but it doesn’t get any better for her, and eventually the pain is so bad that all she can do is put her head in her hands and let out a large shaky breath.

Hannah hears the shaky breath and looks up from the book she was still reading, her finger stopping as she moves her head in the direction of the noise, eyebrows knitting together in a frown.

“You alright over there?” She questions, hearing the ragged breathing from Grave very well now as she keeps her head turned in the direction of the young girl, waiting for her response.

“I um… I-its too hot.” Grave explains simply as she looks at Hannah, the pain written on her face, not that Hannah could feel it, but she could sense something was off.

“Too hot?” She questions as she puts her book down on the counter, moving slowly towards the younger girl, unaided with her cane she had put away. But she knew the shop well enough to move through it safely. She stands in front of Grave now, still frowning.

“Too hot.” Grave confirms as she slowly nods, hands gripping her hair in an effort to distract from the other pain coursing through her body. Hannah places a hand on Grave’s forehead gently. The skin felt cold as ice to the touch, and felt almost like getting a cold burn, slight pain dancing over Hannah’s skin.

“What do you want me to do?” Hannah asks the young girl. Sure, she felt cold, but Hannah wouldn’t say that. Clearly Grave felt hot and uncomfortable and in pain, and who was Hannah to deny any of that? She couldn’t deny what Grave was feeling, so she had to help.

“I-I just wanna go outside.” Grave says in a small voice, making Hannah frown again at the pain in it. She gently places her hand on Grave’s shoulder, spinning the girl to be in front of her so she could easily walk her outside.

“Alright, lets go out.” Hannah states simply as she holds Grave’s shoulder in her gentle grip, making Grave look up at her and speak again, trying to make light of the situation.

“You don’t have to go with me if you don’t want to-” Grave starts, though a stern look from Hannah causes her words to go dry in her mouth.

“I’m not leaving you alone like this.” Hannah’s voice is sharp when she speaks, more of an order than a statement, but there was a veil of worry for the child behind it. Hannah wouldn’t leave her alone, in case she needed anything, Hannah had to be there in case.

“Okay…” Grave allows herself yo be lead out of the bookshop, feeling immediate relief when they get outside, the cold winter air smacking into her, starting to sooth her painful skin as Hannah stands near her.

“Wanna tell me what’s going on?” Hannah questions Grave. She could tell something was wrong with the kid, and didn’t quite know what. But it didn’t feel right to her. grave had been freezing to the touch, but was burning up, probably from the inside. It worried Hannah, though she kept her face composed.

“It’s not… I’ll sound crazy-” Grave starts, but once again Hannah cuts her off, the sternness in her voice back again, though the concern was more obviously mixed in as she leans down, slightly taller than Grave in her ten year old body.

“Kid, your skin is cold to the touch yet you’re burning up inside, something happened.” Hannah states as she leans down to be closer to Grave, eyebrows pulled together once again, eyes softer behind her glasses. “I promise I’ll listen.” She reassures the child, and she meant it. She wasn’t going to brush off the feelings of this kid. Grave knew what was going on, not Hannah, and she would listen to her if it meant getting the truth of what was going on with her.

“I-I um…” Grave chuckles slightly as she continues. “I actually already know you. I’m technically from the future, I know that sounds corny, a-and you were with me and I’d gotten stabbed and you said that Iden was coming and if he couldn’t come then I had to use my time fuckaroo power to go back to when the situation didn’t happen-” Grave sighs as she realises something. “You meant the temperature thing, didn’t you?” She asks, feeling dumb as Hannah’s face softens.

“I did, but that’s fine too.” She answers softly. In a strange way, she believed the kid. She knew when people were lying, and this kid had none of the signs. She wasn’t lying to Hannah, so she trusted the words that came out of her mouth.

“Sorry. But now I’m gonna be stuck here for a day. Anyway, about the weird temperature thing…” Grave sits on the floor. “get ready for a crazy ride!” She exclaims as she prepares herself to explain it to Hannah.

“Ready.” Hannah sits down next to her and turns towards her as she waits for Grave to explain everything to her.

“On August 14th, 2019, I went missing. I was riding on my bike and I saw some weird thing in the forest and me, being dumb, tired and downed an entire thing of Nyquil before riding, decided to go and check it out. The thing was ten feet taller than me and it didn't have a face but it had a flower bud like head that opened up to reveal it's teeth. I ran as fast as i could, but it caught me and it bit me. It ripped my left arm off. I passed out and woke up in a place that looked just like the forest, but darker. The trees were black and there was no sky. That place is called The Upside Down, a shadow or echo of our world basically. It's everything bad. There was an entire search party for me and nobody found me for a while, but on the first of September, my 'body' was found in a lake.” Grave begins playing in the snow as Hannah listens and processes. Hannah nods as she finishes speaking.

“Was it not yours?” She questions, tilting her head as she listens to Grave play with the snow.

“It wasn’t. The body was actually fake.” Grave explains, Hannah nodding.

“That makes sense.” Hannah agrees as Grave opens her mouth to continue.

“You, Leena Jake and Iden were there to see the body and you waited until everybody left to go into the room where they had my body and cut it open. There were no organs, just cotton.” Grave explains, making Hannah snort.

“Hah, what a shitty fake.” Hannah observed dully as she listens to Grave, taking in every word and mulling them over inside her brain. Despite this never having happened to her yet, the words made sense inside her brain, like perfectly cut puzzle pieces, slotting together to make a blurred image she couldn’t quite see yet.

“You found me in the upside down a week later, i don't know how but it was probably with your shadows. I was so pale and cold that you tried to get me to take a warm bath but I told you it was too hot and you said 'I could make it a little bit cooler but you have to warm up' and I said 'No. He likes it cold' and walked out of the bathroom. Nobody could get me warm. I had to go to this hospital and i went there for three days every week and I slowly started to forget you guys kinda. I didn't talk anymore unless spoken to and it started getting worse. I was a million times more pale and colder and I started to have visions of the thing coming to hurt people. And the only way to fix this is to...burn the shit out of me until it comes out of me...” Grave explains and Hannah nods.

“That’s why you were too hot…” She explains to herself, realising the situation as Grave becomes quiet, her words trailing off in the silence as Hannah hears her shuffling the snow with her hand, playing with it.

“Do you think something would happen if you burned it out?” Hannah questions the child beside her as she listens to the sound of the snow shifting places on the pavement below them.

“I mean, I’d be sweating a lot and I’d need to be cooled down before I pass out and it’s gonna hurt a l o t to burn it out but its worth it. I can just use heaters and stuff to do it-” Grave explains as she sits on the floor looking at the cold snow around her, feeling better now she was out of the building and in the cold.

“Why haven’t you?” Hannah asks, facing Grave as she asks the question, her voice lower and more serious than it had been before.

“I have to be tied down to do it. Every time I tried to do it, the thing would take over me and turn everything off. I can’t exactly tie myself down, so…” Grave explains, watching Hannah nod her head.

“That’s true, have you not asked me in that time?” Hannah asks quietly. Any other person would have blown this kid off as crazy, but Hannah knew there was truth behind her words, and that made her feel horrible that the kid had gone through all that at sixteen years old.

“I didn’t. I tries to play it off like nothing was wrong and tried to do the thing whenever I was home alone-” Grave cuts herself off as Hannah watches her talk about the other Hannah. She wondered what she was like in the future, hopefully much different than she was now.

“You should ask her. She’d do it in a heartbeat if she knew it would keep you safe.” Hannah’s voice is back to its normal dull state, but she was telling the undeniable truth to Grave. If future her was anything like current her, she would do pretty much anything for someone she cared deep enough about.

“Hhh okay… I will. Should your Iden know this or no?” Grave questions, watching as Hannah mulls the question over, scrunching up her face as she thinks.

“My Iden didn’t seem to recognise you in the way I did. It might be better for him not to know, lest he stress himself out.” Hannah explains, a gentle smile on her face.

“Alright, sounds good.” Grave smiles at Hannah. “I’ll be here for the next few hours, what do you wanna do until I can go back?” Grave asks Hannah.

“Well, Iden should be finishing around now, and he always had a ton of stuff to carry back to the house after Saturday shifts, so we can head back and see what happens?” Hannah poses, listening to Grave as she shifts in the snow to face her.

“Sure, sounds fun.” She says as Hannah gets up, extending her hand down to Grave as she smiles gently.

“He’s probably ready by now.” Hannah says as Grave reaches up and takes the hand, smiling as Hannah pulls her up.

“Lets go get the man-boy.” She jokes as Hannah opens the door and heads back inside, keeping it open behind them this time as they enter.

“Iden, you ready to go?” She asks, Iden coming into view with a large box of stuff, smiling as he carries the very heavy looking box.

“Yeah, I’m coming!” He exclaims as he shifts the box into his hips as he begins to usher them out of the shop, Hannah getting out her cane as she leaves. Once outside, Iden balances the box on his hip as he gets his key out, locking the door swiftly before starting to walk down the street in front of Grave and Hannah.

“How ya feeling by the way? Today must have been a lot…” Hannah asks as she and Grave walk down the street behind Iden. Hannah’s stoic face had a small crack in it, slight concern leaking out as she talks to Grave.

“Well my mind is fuzzy from time travel, I almost passed out about ten minutes ago and I’ve just found out its hard to do things with your powers while your blood is yeeting itself out of you… so I guess you could say I’m a little tired.” Hannah can feel Grave smile after she speaks and returns it softly. She had done more smiling today than she had for a while. It felt nice.

“How tired is a little?” She questions, not one to settle for vague answers when it came to things like this.

“Compared to how I usually feel with patrol and making things till 6AM on a Saturday, I’d say it’s barely tired.” Grave elaborates, making Hannah laugh.

“Good, I don’t want you passing out on me while we walk.” She jokes as they move, able to hear Iden ahead of them as he mutters to himself and hums.

“Don’t worry, I’ve had worse… he can’t hear us, right-” Grave questions, looking at Iden in front of them in a sudden fit of worry, though Hannah waves it off.

“Nah, he’s in his own world when he walks.” She explains as they follow him.

“G o o d. He can’t be freaking out over hearing that a ten, technically sixteen year old got stabbed and stuff.” Grave sighs as Hannah chuckles beside her.

“Yeah, don’t worry, he won’t know.” She reassures Grave, smiling as she thinks about how Iden would react. Yeah, he could never know.

“Hey, wanna know something funny?” Grave questions as Hannah instinctively turns her head to look at her, pretending to think on the question.

“Mmmm, sure.” Hannah answers simply as she listens to her feet crunching in the fallen snow, through she could still feel more falling around them, getting stuck in her hair and eyelashes as she walks.

“So me and Iden spar with each other a lot and i punch him in the chest. he doesn't even m o v e. i ask him what would happen if i punch him in his stomach, he says go on cuz he's curious too...and then i punched him in the face. he moved back a little bit. it wasn't a lot but it was an improvement.” Grave explains, listening to Hannah laugh in response.

“That is an improvement, I think I’m the only one who ever was able to move him with a punch, but that’s not amazing for us.” Hannah half explains, half jokes.

“I actually yeeted him last week. I know he’s strong as hell but I thought I killed him because he was quiet from laughing so hard-” Grave explains much to Hannah’s amusement.

“Yeah, he does that. it’s like a dying seal.” She explains, almost laughing as Iden comes to a short stop, turning down another road and heading to their house.

“He does not sound like a dying seal! He sounds as rad as he is.” Grave defends Hannah’s twin as she laughs.

“He can be rad and a seal.” She explains herself, listening as Grave flounders.

“I…” Grave nods in defeat. “Good point.” She admits, making Hannah laugh as they come to a stop outside the house.

“I know.” She jokes as Iden unlocks the door for them, letting himself in, followed swiftly by Hannah, pulling Grave in behind her as she shuts the door.

“Hh its c o o l in here. It looks noice.” Grave states as she looks around the space. It has a simple décor, but it suited the space well. Generally neutral things were met with occasional splashes of colour and light in the room in front of her, the living room.

“You’ll have to thank Iden for that.” Hannah jokes as she pulls her coat off, placing it on a hook hanging off of the wall.

“I will! By the way, normal you is going to remember this and so will you, so… yeah!” Grave smiles as Hannah turns to face her, pulling her sunglasses off to reveal her blacked out eyes, smiling.

“Well, I’m certainly grateful for that… come on, lets get inside the living room.” Hannah says calmly as she walks inside further, feeling Grave following after her.

“Okay.” Grave smiles as she follows her in. Iden can be heard unpacking things in the kitchen as Hannah sits on the sofa, feeling her normal tiredness washing over her, being displayed appropriately on her face.

“What do you wanna do, kid?” She questions Grave as she sits down, rubbing a hand over her face.

“I want you to go to sleep. You look sleepy.” Grave half demands, almost making Hannah laugh out loud at the stern voice she tried to put on. She settles for a smile at Grave.

“Kid, when you’re blind, you’re always tired. But, cant risk messing up my sleep schedule.” Hannah explains.

“I mean, I look kinda high all the time because I see everything like a heat wave on drugs, so I kinda understand that.” Grave explains as she watches Hannah.

“Exactly.” Hannah laughs tiredly as she continues. “Not seeing the world takes a lot out of you, but you learn to live with it.” She shrugs as she sits down, looking in Grave’s direction as she speaks. “So, anything you wanna do now that you’re here?” She questions the child in front of her, smiling.

“We can make up dumb stories that don’t make sense. Give me a sentence that makes so sense and I’ll start from that.” Grave offers, Hannah trying to come up with something only to find her mind was too tired to even try. Today had been a longer day than normal and Hannah was feeling the effects.

“I think my brain may be a little too fried to think of anything kid.” She admits.

“That’s fine! I can just fix my- oh wait… I don’t have it yet-” Grave says dully as she remembers, making Hannah tilt her head.

“Your what?” Hannah questions the child.

“My prosthetic arm. I don’t have it yet tho because my arm is still here.” Grave explains, looking down at the arm in question, completely intact on her ten year old body.

“That does seem to be the issue.” Hannah jokes in a light manner with the kid as Iden pops back in, done unpacking whatever he had gotten from the shop this time.

“It is, but I can easily make or fix something else… is there anything to fix?” She questions, not noticing Iden until he made a sound as he thought of an answer.

“Hmmmm, hey Han, are your special glasses still broken?” He questions, earning a glare from Hannah as he does, though he raises his hands in a defensive manner, knowing Hannah would know he was doing it, making her huff.

“f u c k y e a h, fixin time babey-” Grave exclaims as Iden walks to go upstairs, calling out behind him.

“I’ll go find them.” He explains as he heads up the stairs, feet thumping on the carpeted wood.

“Thank you!” Grave yells out, hearing Iden laughing as he walks upstairs, the noise carrying behind him. It takes him a few minutes to locate the glasses in whatever space Hannah had thrown them into, but eventually he comes back down with the glasses and a tool kit in hand, giving both to Grave with a smile.

“Go ham, kiddo.” He says happily as he heads into the kitchen to start making food. Hannah can hear him pulling things out and chopping with one of the many knives he insisted on buying.

“Thanks!!!” Grave’s smile widens as she starts to work on them. Hannah listens in amusement as Grave fixes the glasses within three minutes, only managing to cut herself once, making Hannah chuckle.

“That didn’t take long.” She remarks as she listens to Grave finish the glasses.

“Well I kinda know how to fix these already, so y e e.” Grave remarks as she hands them to Hannah, who puts them on a side table.

“That’s true, hey, why don’t you come sit up her with me.” Hannah suggests as she listens to Grave putting away the tools.

“Oki.” She can hear Grave get up and join her on the large arm chair Hannah sits in. “Hi, do you come here often?” She giggles at her own joke, her laugh very light and sweet, making Hannah laugh.

“I would love to say no, but…” She jokes, smiling. “Iden will be done with dinner soon, so you have that to look forward to here.” Hannah smiles again at the small child. “He’ll probably make spaghetti if I know him.” She laughs.

Noise can be heard at the mention of food, and Pudge, Hannah’s pit bull wanders in slowly, looking around and sniffing the air, able to smell the meat Iden was starting to cook. She wanders up to the chair, looking at Grave with inquisitive eyes.

“Babey!” Grave gasps softly as Pudge finishes her inspection of the new small human, jumping onto Hannah’s lap and applying small licks onto Grave’s face, making Hannah laugh at the noise as Misty can be heard starting to run down the stairs, loud thumps growing quiet as he too enters the living room.

He doesn’t give the small human a second thought, jumping on top of the chair, and on top of Grave by consequence, his large fluffy body almost engulfing her as he shuffles around on top of the two of them.

Grave laughs the entire time, happy with the attention from the dogs she knew so well from her teenage years, Hannah laughing as well as Iden eventually sticks his head back into the room.

“Dinners ready!” He yells, the dogs running off of them at the mention of food, going in search of their own which Iden had laid out for them in the kitchen as Hannah gets up and pulls Grave into the dining room with her, sitting down as Iden gets ready to serve the food.

The rest of the evening and night was fun. The meal was amazing, but Grave already knew it would be. Iden and Hannah seemed to become more like the versions of them she knew, cracking jokes with each other and interacting with Grave more and more. They huddled in a pile after dinner, watching random films Grave remembered from her childhood that she hadn’t watched in ages. Hannah and Iden were as they always were, kind and thoughtful towards her. when the twins eventually had to go to bed, Hannah lent Grave the space in her bed, happy to sleep on the sofa with the dogs. She met Grave in the morning as she was getting ready to go, giving her a big hug and smile as she watched her return to her own time, a small wave being given as she vanished.

[japanessie]

Hi Shelly! I'm sorry you're feeling blue! I was going to ask that about Taka and Hiro, too, but was worried I'd get too upset but since someone else asked anyway...It just kind of made me wince with hurt for Hiro when a few years ago Taka ranted on instagram about privacy (for his own life, not about his family). Like, where was your voice when your own fans were BULLYING your baby brother or when they posted on a forum after the ONE time Tomohiro finally showed his face, they asked if he was...

[2/3] Adopted! He already had issues being on camera (hasnt been on since, cant blame him). So, Hiroki looks too much like Taka but Tomo doesn’t look enough? They’re his little brothers, I think bullying BOTH Little brothers is when the time to speak up is. I’m not saying the bros cant handle themselves but I just feel Hiro, aside from mfs, has been on his own. It would be nice if his eldest brother took responsibility for his so called “fans” who attack his family and stood up… 

[3/3] Sorry it just hits close to home. I know what it’s like 2 not have your older bro there when u need him most. When he leaves u in a house burning with hatred (i got to hear my parents accuse each other of cheating while my bro was out smoking & drinking. It makes me wonder what Hiroki heard when no one thought he was listening). I dont mean to take it personally or anything, I just feel like Hiroki & I are very similar. It’s why I like mfs. I’m sorry, I just have no one else to talk about it to.

−−−−−−−−−−−−−− −−−−−−−−−−−−−−

Hi 😊. I combined your messages together into one for easier reading

First of all I’m sorry for the pain that you personally had to go through. I hope you’re doing okay 🤗. At the same time though, I see uniqueness besides similarities in everybody’s situation. 

1. Someone who is broken can’t be a crutch for someone else

In a traditional family setup in many cultures, even more prominent in Asian cultures, the eldest child is always the one assumed to carry responsibilities of looking after the younger ones. In a family crisis situation, while the younger ones theoretically have the one they can turn to, the eldest child has nobody and is usually left to fend for himself and everybody else. 

Some elder kids have the inner strength and maturity to carry it at young age but some really struggle with it and only develop at a later age. Your brother and Taka seem to be in the latter category. Like Taka, your brother walked out because he was hurting and that was the shortcut way he knew how to surpress it and to stay away from what was troubling him at home. He couldn’t be your pillar when he was broken himself. Just like Taka who took the quick way out and his story had been well documented. 

Also, a lot of times, someone who feels worthless doesn’t understand why anyone would feel hurt to see him walk away. I’m sure Taka himself only fully began to understand NOW, as an adult, the hurt he caused Hiro when he walked away back then. In his mind, he was a loser. Not doing well in school, stressed out over the parents’ marriage breaking up, not getting along with their father, very unhappy and not knowing where his future was heading. Certainly not someone for little Hiro to look up to. How would he look after Hiro when he could barely take care of himself?

* The Moriuchi brothers in those days when they used to be around each other a lot, before OOR moved out of Japan 😊

2. Some people need to pull themselves together first before they can love others

That dark period in Taka’s life was not something he’s proud of. He acknowledges it in interviews and his lyrics. Even OOR members admitted that Taka wasn’t exactly a pleasant person to deal with when they first found him. But once he got his life on track, things fell into places. He made amend with his father and got back the Moriuchi name. While Taka couldn’t give back the years with him that Hiro lost, he let Hiro hang around his friends and be a part of his life back in that way. 

Even Hiro never denied the perks of being Taka’s brother. The most significant was when one of Taka’s close friends K from Pay Money To My Pain befriended Hiro and how that friendship led to the formation of MY FIRST STORY. 

Think again, would Kei Goto a.k.a the late K simply befriend a random underaged high school kid just like that? I highly doubt it 🤔. Hiroki Moriuchi was NOT some random high school kid. K and Taka were buddies and Hiro the high school kid was Taka’s little brother. I doubt Taka would let his little brother hang around someone he didn’t trust. He knew Hiro was in good hands. All these happened only after Taka got his life back on track and was able to be the big brother figure he was meant to be for Hiro.

3. Taka publicly standing up for Hiro would be bad for Hiro’s image

Yes, it would be counter-productive for Taka to do so. You see, the ROOT of the hate and cyber-bullying towards Hiro stemmed from how easy things happened for him because of his family connection. If Taka had spoken out, it would make Hiro appear weak and ultra-dependant on his big brother. 

“Duh! Not only he got a band because he’s Taka brother. Now, he needs to be protected like a baby!” 

Hmm … does that sound good to you? We also need to see things from the haters’ perspective too, you know. Oh, with Papa being a multi-millionaire? Trust me. Hiro would get even less respect if any of his family members had spoken out for him. The bullying might get even worse. 

As for Tomo, anything his family members say would bring unnecessary attention to him. He appeared on TV that one time because of his job at the station. Otherwise, he’s very private. It’s unfair on him if his famous family gives more reasons for the public to scrutinize his life when that’s the last thing he wants. 

4. Being seen publicly as a brave independent fighter would be far more beneficial for Hiro

It worked well for Taka. He only started displaying his bonds with his parents AFTER he had firmly made a name for himself even though they had been on good terms since the early days of OOR. Likewise, Hiro would be less relatable to many fans if he is constantly being taken care of by his more famous and successful family members. Isn’t that the public perception Hiro is still trying hard to break away from? 

Not just the Moriuchi, I have never seen being publicly defended by family members work well for ANY celebrity in the world. It may work for ordinary folks but things work differently for famous people. 

I do support Hiro but I think even his most ardent supporters would agree that he somewhat gives off these “baby” vibes. MFS members themselves seem protective towards him. They let him be mischievious, loud and boisterous with them but they’re always there to hug him when he cries. Therefore, independence from his family would balance that out nicely.

5. Taka made a conscious choice to speak only for himself because he knew any reaction to it would be directed to him and ONLY him

As opposed to Taka speaking out for any of his family members, whom the public might hurl the hate and negative reaction to instead. 

Things just work differently for celebrities. In a way, to minimize the bullying towards their loved ones, staying out of their public battle a lot of times is the better way to go. By not bringing more attention to it. 

Likewise, none of Taka’s family members said anything when Taka had to face a barrage of criticism and angry reactions at the time. The ones who publicly defended him were his friends and peers. Guys like Mah (SiM) and Masato (Coldrain) among some. For celebrities, somehow testimonies from people they have worked with or even strangers they have encountered hold much higher values than family members. 

With their chosen careers, backlash and criticism come with the territory. That’s what their parents want to instill in the two brothers. “You have chosen this path. Learn to deal with it.“

6. Rude fans are rude fans nonetheless

Rude people don’t suddenly become angels just because their idols ask them to. Just look at the backlash against Taka. It was quite brutal. Just like how Hiro got pictures of a woman pooping by his haters, I saw a photo of a “hairy ding dong” for Taka among some, along with truckloads of really scathing words. By his own fans (or should I say “ex-fans"?). If this kind of fans are willing to treat Taka like that just from ONE social media post, then nothing good can come out of it if Taka had said or done anything about Hiro’s haters. The ones who would cheer him would still be the same ones who already support MFS anyway. 

Remember when fans were speculating that OOR’s song Right By Your Side as being dedicated to Hiro? Those who like MFS thought it was a sweet gesture but those who don’t like MFS used it as an excuse to say, “Look! Taka wrote a song for Hiro. Yet he still wants to call Taka his rival. What a low life!”. Yes, I’ve personally seen comments like that. So, see? Whatever Taka does regarding Hiro, mean-spirited people will still find a way to set fire to it.

7. There must be more than meets the eye

Fans went nuts when the brothers wore this pair of pants. I doubt it’s a coincidence that Hiro suddenly is comfortable wearing Taka’s look when he used to be sensitive about being called Taka’s copy before.

But that’s not even something new. in January 2018, Taka posted a photo of himself wearing this Monster’s Inc hoodie at Disneyland. That same month, Hiro was wearing that same Disney hoodie at his 24th birthday party.

Heaven knows what Taka had said to Hiro in private especially after MFS Budokan show 🤔. At the end of the day, they are family and though I also know many families who cut ties from each other, Taka and Hiro clearly are the ones who keep theirs 😉.

2 more cents

I feel that Taka is doing the right thing by staying away from Hiro publicly. Not responding to the negativity surrounding Hiro but still letting fans know that his little brother has his full support.

[dravitus-akaelos]

The Doctor Is In - RP Log

Dravitus Akaelos’ entrance is preceded by three sharp, precise raps upon the door as the man's gloved knuckles impact upon the wood. Stepping inside without even the slightest hint of hesitation, the formidable figure fills the doorway for a moment as he scans the interior, before stepping to one side and holding the door open for his companion. "After you, Milja." He turns to Marius with a polite smile, inclining his head in greeting. "Hello, Mr. Vieremont. Thank you for meeting us."

Marius Vieremont paused in mid-sentence as the door was rapped upon and so opened, as his guests stepped through. Upon the page, a quill stood upright, apparently having been transcribing his spoken thoughts. With a small gesture, it fell to the book, leaving only a small splatter of ink. His unfocused gaze moved to approximately the location of those who had entered and he inclined his head. "It is my pleasure. Please, do call me Marius."

She moves with quiet calculation, slow and at his heels as is expected of someone of her status, or more accurately, lack thereof. Plenty able, she does not need any doors held for her, but every time this grace is shown to her, her ears perk and the faintest tickle which threatens a smile percolates her insides. Nodding, she moves towards the interior-- polished and clean, lacking any offensive scents which might have alluded to subpar practice. Her eyes are bright and wide, flicking over the furniture before resting on the books, and finally the man. She is hard to read, lacking much expression, her lips an unaffected flat-line, though her eyes may have told a different story. "Thank you for having us mii.... Marius." Her soft voice shifts gears just as it begins and she looks down to the marbled floors. "Marius." She affirms, respecting her host's wishes

Dravitus shuts the door with a gentle 'click', pressing his fingers briefly upon Milja's back to nudge her towards the seats as he himself steps unhurriedly towards them. He indicates them with a light gesture, head canting to one side, "Of course, Marius. May we sit?"

Gloved hands gesture to the comfortable couch in front of Marius’ desk, plenty of room for both of them. "Yes, please do," he said, reaching out unerringly and closing the patient journal that he'd been recording thoughts into. The click of heels and feminine cast of the voice gave him all the clue he needed; "Miss Milja and Dravitus Akaelos, I presume?"

"You have it right," There is the slightest rise in her voice, pleased and pleasant. Milja glides her fingertips over the furniture, carefully and with tender sort of reverence before seating herself before the elegant elezen.

"Correct." comes the smooth, deep voice, followed by the sound of fabric and leather rustling and the faintest creak of the seat taking the man's considerable mass. Folding one hand atop the other upon his abdomen, Dravitus regards the physician with open, unabashed curiosity. "I apologise if we disturbed you in the midst of your work - if it is of import, please do continue. We are not opposed to waiting, after all."

The clinic around them is pristine; immaculately clean with gleaming marble floors and without a speck of dust anywhere. There's the scent of fresh linens on the bed, the pungent smell of the herbs suspended above them and the musty scent of the wall of books. Some appear to be patient journals, others are books on doctoring and still others are volumes of conjury and thaumaturgy. The man himself is reed-thin, with salt and pepper black hair and dressed as circumspectly as his clinic. Motioning vaguely with a gloved hand, he shakes his head. "It is nothing that cannot be continued later on, I'd not have guests wait. Besides, I prefer to keep patient notes confidential, if you'll pardon me. How is your man recovering? The stitches should have dissolved by now."

Milja adjusts herself a few times, but consistently she fixed on their host with genuine interest. She is here to learn, and is appreciative of any opportunity afforded to her. For this reason, she might have been a bit stiffer than usual, her shifting positions indicative of the importance she holds this meeting in. However, her demeanor becomes somewhat more effervescent once they begin speaking of recovery. "Yes!" She quietly exclaims, though almost immediately regrets that hint of excitement which colors the singular syllable. "He has recovered very nicely-- much faster than anticipated, and the scarring has already paled from purples to whites. You'd not believe the condition he was in prior if you saw him today."

Dravitus’ lips curve so faintly one would be hard pressed to note the shift in expression, yet the amusement is nonetheless there, lending a glimmer to the burnished silver of his eyes as Milja fails to contain her enthusiasm. An inclination of the head precedes his own commentary, tone calm and level as he remarks, "Indeed. You laid an admirable foundation upon which my medical staff could work, Marius. I believe that I would not be incorrect in assuming that you have something of a passion for your work, beyond that of your peers. Certainly," and here he gestures about him, encompassing the clinic as a whole, "Your place of work certainly displays enough telltale signs of such a trait, and I have no doubt that it is not artifice on your behalf."

Close inspection of the man reveals a hint of his own personal challenges; his pale gaze never quite focuses on either of them, though it is aimed in their general direction. At the enthusiastic little squeak of a word, Marius offers a genuine smile of thin lips, seeming sincerely pleased at the report. "Thank you, and well-pleased am I to hear it," he states crisply, nodding in Milja's direction. His attention shifts to Dravitus as he speaks and he gives a quiet huff of amusement. "No, you are not incorrect. I enjoy my work and find it... mn, uniquely rewarding. Ah, but I am being rude. May I offer refreshments? Water, tea... something stronger?"

Milja is perceptive enough to notice the seeming difficulty the man has in focusing on them as one might have typically, but this hardly tarnishes her opinion of his ability. Her cheeks grow hot as she realizes she might have been staring inappropriately long at the icy silver slits of Marius' gaze, still incredibly striking, despite their lack of focus. She inhales deeply and huffs out a short spurt of a sigh, hardly despairing, which dissipates into the air her relief. She is pleased to have been received so kindly, but old habits died hard and she subconsciously could not refrain from holding her breath in situations such as this, where she carried the heavy burden of having to impress others. Especially those who had shown her a life she had been deprived of for so long. "When one works in earnest and enjoys it, it is always apparent. I would appreciate a tea, if you don't mind." For a moment she considers offering her assistance, but refrains for fear of inadvertently offending the man. This was his home, after all.

Akaelos, for his part, seems largely indifferent to the man's condition - blindness was an impairment, of course, but the Elezen seemed more than capable of overcoming it. Pity would be a grave insult, in the half-blood's view, in light of the accomplishments the doctor had made despite what held him back. A familiar sentiment, after all. So his own silver eyes settled comfortably upon Marius' unseeing gaze, affording the man the full weight of his attention as he would any other. "I am no stranger to finding one's work rewarding. There are few things in life more fulfilling, I find." A brief smile accompanies the words, the sincerity of his tone evident. The sound of thick synthetic fabric sliding upon itself accompanies the uplifting of a forestalling hand as he replies, "No, thank you, though I appreciate the offer. Tell me, Marius - how is business in Ul'dah? Do you see many patients of late?"

Marius certainly didn't seem to notice Milja's lengthy stare, though he does cant his head slightly at the sigh of relief - a flicker of curiosity reflecting in his narrow features. "I do hope you like black tea, all I have on hand at the moment is an Ishgardian blend. I have cream and sugar to sweeten it, if you prefer it as I do," he replied conversationally, rising and taking precise steps - as if counted in his head - over to the stove. Without difficulty, he places the kettle on and retrieves the box of tea pouches as well as any sighted man could. "Business in Ul'dah is always thriving, which while fortunate for me, is rather less so for those under my care. No physician wants to be *needed* for their services, of course, but I'm grateful to be able to provide succor for those who require it." He turns, leaning back against the counter. "It'll be but a moment for the tea, Miss."

Milja is filled with something akin to mortified as she accepted the offer of hospitality only to have Dravitus decline. Distinctly feeling as though she has put her host out, her ears tip back down, closer to her head and she averts her eyes, looking towards Marius as he moves towards the stove. She is certain of her mistake, and resolves to wait for him to answer first in other situations of this nature going forward. "Sorry." While Marius puts on the kettle, she issues an apology which is both sincere and humbled, though unsolicited. Still she is gracious, perhaps more-so, when the Elezen addresses her "Of course, thank you so much-- black tea is just fine, Ishgardian is all the better." Only half her attention can be devoted to the topic of business while the rest of her facilities internally chastise herself.

Dravitus listens attentively to their host as he responds to the query, though he allows his gaze to flick about the room as he studies it with clinical interest, noting various topics of the books within his range of vision, and so on. His eyes flick to Milja at her apology, to which he simply raises a hand in a dismissive gesture, giving her a slight lift of one shoulder in a shrug. "A laudable sentiment, to be sure. Do you have much experience in treating combat wounds - from the gladiatorial arena, perhaps? Or are you more inclined towards more mundane ailments?"

Their host seems puzzled by the apology, and there is a moment of uncertainty as to who it is being directed to. In the end, he elects not to acknowledge it at all, as he cannot imagine what in the world she would be sorry for. As promised it's only moments until the kettle whistles and he pours the tea - two cups - setting both on the tray, along with a small porcelain cup of cream and a dish of sugar with a spoon settled within. Taking up the tray, he carries the entire affair over to the desk and sets it down. "After you, my dear," he invites, motioning to the cream and sugar and giving her ample time to help herself. Settling back down in his chair, he considers the question. "My true calling is healing the aetherflows of the body, but I am also extensively experienced in both combat-related injury and the more mundane. My parents ensured the quality of my education growing up, once they realized my talent for healing."

An ear perks to the whistle of the kettle and Milja rights herself, sitting straighter as to steel herself. She puts aside insecurities in favor of attending to the conversation at hand, as she knows is expected of her. "It smells lovely, I am glad to not be partaking alone." She favors Marius slightly more for this gesture, intentional or not. Reaching for the tea, there is a certain timidness in how she takes it to her hand, cradling it carefully, each movement graceful and distinctly feminine. Blowing softly, the lip of the mug to her painted lips, she listens with astute attention to their host, intermittently checking for temperature. "Your parents, were they healers also or supportive of your art?"

Dravitus’ demeanour changes not a whit as Marius sets the cup before the Viera at his side, the benign, solid confidence wavering not at all as she accepts the offered cup. A list of the myriad and sundry ingredients one could add to a warm brew to cause all manner of ill effects flickers briefly through his thoughts before he dismisses it - she would learn the hard way, if it was tampered with. "Duly noted." He pauses, allowing Milja to field her question, and appears content to give Marius time to respond before besieging him with further queries.

Marius favors Milja with a warm, genuine smile. "I never turn down an excuse for a cup of tea," he confides with a wink in her direction, a chuckle soon following. It's a soft, pleasant sound, and as sincere as his smile was. His teacup was only half-full, the reason for which soon became obvious, as he added a copious amount of both cream and sugar to the teacup. Someone had a sweet-tooth, it seemed. "My mother - rest her soul - was the healer in the family. My father, who also passed many years was more of a..." He hums softly, searching for the word. "Protector, of sorts." The mage doesn't seem to mind the myriad questions, answering each with ease.

Amethyst eyes follow the cream as it swirls into the dark tea and becomes opaque. While this was all par for the tea course, she did not anticipate the amount of sugar dumped into the cup. Humored, a brow lifts and she fails to stifle an amused grin. She is riveted with interest now, hanging on the words he speaks and reeled in by the dulcet sounds of his laughter. She is wary, but she is distinctly aware of something within her tempering ingrained dubiety. She nods, considering what he says of his family and can not refrain from flicking her attention towards Dravitus for a brief moment. "They sound like an effective pair, and clearly their efforts have served you well-- serving US well, especially Garilan."

Dravitus’ brows lift at the sheer amount of sugar that pours - and continues to pour - into the cup. The ratio of liquid to sugar seemed barely enough to render the sweetening substance dissolved, and it occurs to him that perhaps that is the sole reason why there is that much tea in the cup at all - as a vehicle for the sugar and little else. Could the man even taste the tea at that stage? Giving his head a disbelieving shake, he comments, "It is commendable that they chose a profession for their child that seems suited. At least, if the passion for healing was an existing one and not something perforce adopted, of course." The tips of his gloved right hand's fingers smooth out over the leg of his trousers as he regards Marius appraisingly for a moment, before nodding to himself. "Indeed. I have seen the butchery that some of the so-called healers perform in this province, and so I am inclined towards securing your services for my personnel, if you are amenable." He smiles, pleasant despite the business-like focus of his words, and continues. "I am offering you a contract, Marius. I wish for my personnel to have priority treatment, within reason, should they require it when they are in the area. Naturally, emergencies are to take precedence over matters that do not threaten the lives of my people, and you are free to go about your business as you see fit otherwise." He cocks his head at the man, studying him. "Your thoughts?"

"It's always been that way for our family," he explains, taking a sip of his tea and sighing with contentment. "It's been arranged like that for hundreds of years, passed down with our own personal traditions through the centuries. One has always been the healer - the Advocate - and the other has always been the protector - our Arbiter. Gender factors not at all into it," he explains. "And they had something of a talent in choosing professions for my brothers and I, even if I wanted to be a Knight when I was very young," he says with a rolling chuckle. Shifting his gaze to Dravitus, he listens attentively to the offer, curiosity glimmering in his silvery eyes. "Your ‘personnel’? Are you the leader of some militia, then?"

"Oh, that is interesting. I've not encountered familial arrangements of that nature before, but it makes sense." a faint blush paints her pallid features pink as her mind wanders where it might, but she quickly reins that in and crosses her legs. Eyes search Marius' smooth features for any trace of emotion, any inkling of his intent of acceptance of what Dravitus lays out with almost rapacious eagerness. The offer was fair, and from her own experience Milja knew it would become fairer still once a proposal was extended. While she should have disappointed to find Dravitus' offering met with a question, she is instead met with a sort of pride. He was not wrong, but her lips are tight and her eyes glisten towards Dravitus in anticipation of his response.

Dravitus’  head tilts to one side as he watches Marius, regarding the man with curiosity as he outlines his familial traditions - Ishgard was not an unknown quantity, but nor was it an area of his expertise. "You can still heal with one hand and wield a blade in the other. I would count that a superior knight to most." The corner of his mouth flickers up in a twitch of amusement, eyebrows quirking at the suggestion. "A milita?" A hand glides through the air in a smooth refutal of the notion. "Nothing so amateurish, I assure you. I own and run Reign Enterprises, which is a multi-national business that has a number of interests and departments. Foremost, however, you may consider us something of a private military company. I train, manage and dispatch my personnel on a wide variety of tasks, in many places, often simultaneously. I am seeking to expand into Eorzea, and having medical personnel contracted to attend my company foremost is among the foremost necessities when expanding my holdings into a new area."

Marius’ expression was quite easily read, a hint of curiosity laced with a good bit of interest. The man had no poker face, not even a little - likely come from his inability to read other peoples' expressions. "It's certainly not a common arrangement," he demures in agreement with her. "But, as I said - tradition." Shifting his attention to Dravitus, he listens quietly, sipping his tea, whilst the other man speaks. "I admit, your organization does sound rather impressive. I am concerned, however, as to the volume of patients I might be taking on. I am, as is obvious, only one man - although I have a connection to a network of other healers, should the need arise that I take on more than one or two patients at a time. I am inclined to agree to your proposal. What are you offering as recompense?"

Dravitus had early on demonstrated his impressive acumen when it came to matters of military and business. Furthermore, Milja was impressed with his willingness to dirty his own hands in matters which otherwise may not have concerned individuals of similar appointment. It was an admirable trait among many, and when he spoke, his own passion was clear. Milja sits back, easing behind the lead of her superior and relaxing with what she anticipates to be an eminent acceptance. Should Marius find the offer agreeable, Milja looked forward to the prospect of working with him to further her own art.

"Funding." The reply is immediate and delivered without pomp - stated in a clipped and factual manner, before he continues. "Aside from that, I have access to resources that I can place at your disposal, should you require or desire them, for whatever reason. As I have mentioned, my reach extends to other nations, and so I have an easier time of conveying material that is otherwise difficult, if not impossible, to acquire here." He flicks his fingers in a peremptory fashion, stating, "I will not overwhelm you, worry not. In the event of a large-scale operation being conducted in the region, I will notify you and offer you the opportunity to accompany them as a stand-by medical operative - with appropriate bonuses for doing so. As well, I can bolster your staff and facilities on an as-needed basis." He dips his head towards Milja. "Milja numbers among my existing medical staff, as an example - though I would also reward you for sharing your experience and skill with her and others that may benefit from it, should you be amenable."

"Funding is of a lesser concern, as I have my family's coffers at my disposal. We are a small House in Ishgardian society, largely unnoticed, but a wealthy one," he states succinctly, without boasting. "However, I would certainly value the resources you mentioned - as I've mentioned, I'm only one man, and at the moment, must resort to purchasing what I need for supplies, rather than gathering and making them myself. Herbs for tinctures and potions, cloth for bandages and et cetera." He paused and set his empty teacup down. "In the interest of being frank and fair dealings, I should disclose to you - in case you've not yet realized - that I am quite blind. Entirely so, as it happens. I do have a... means of seeing, when absolutely necessary, but I fear I would be a liability as a combat medic on the front lines with your men. As for sharing my expertise with Miss Milja and others, that would be certainly doable."

Milja is marginally taken off-guard by the welcomed moment she could offer herself towards industry for the man who had positioned himself as a champion in her eyes. With catlike reflexes, Milja pounces on this opportunity, eagerly coming to meet minds with their host. "Of course. While coin is always advantageous, one who has honed their art to the degree you have weighs other valuables higher. Resources happen to be in the realm of my own abilities. I can extend my gift of gathering, among other utilitarian talents to further your own objectives." In regard to blindness, Milja had surmised as much. In the lull of a brief pause, she smiles. "Clearly one does not need sight to be talented, I am certain your knowledge and experience would serve our necessities just as well from behind the front-lines. That is what I am here for."

Akaelos nods curtly, having anticipated the response - there was little about Marius or his clinic that denoted a dearth of funding, but it seemed greed was not a motivator for the man, either. Interesting. "I can supply those, and other materials and resources. I believe that you could benefit from a choice selection of magitek medical equipment, for example." His tone turns dry as he  cocks a brow at the man's declaration of his visual impairment. "You may be blind, Marius, but I am not. It would take an oblivious individual indeed to neglect to notice such a thing. You need not actually fight, simply await field casualties in the triage on-site, but that can be discussed at a later time." He laces his fingers together and sets his intertwined hands atop his thighs, continuing. "Do you have requests that you would like to make in order to secure your services? I will not prevaricate -I insist that my personnel get treated first, when they suffer in equal measure to others."

Marius smiles in Milja's direction, inclining his head slightly. "In return for such responsibilities that I would direct you to, I would be more than happy to share my expertise in both conjury and thaumaturgy, if you wish." He pauses when she speaks again, and he nods. "That is where I would best serve, I do agree. I am knowledgeable in triage as well and have acted as such an agent before, in addition to lending my healing skills to those who require it." Intrigue took the man's expression as mentioned magitek medical equipment. "Interesting. One wonders where you might have gotten your hands on something of that nature, to be given at will." As he had already mentioned the subject of triage, he allowed his previous words to stand on their own. "The amount of resources and such can be drawn up in a standard contract," he said, gesturing vaguely. "But otherwise, I would have no other requests. Yours that your personnel be treated first is fair." He tapped his knee twice, then nodded. "I am inclined to accept your offer."

Milja Svartur 's evaluates the two taps on her companion's knee and considers if there was any relevance to such a gesture. Her ear flickers to the back-flipping wind-up at her back, the dampened clang of metal against marble pulling her attention towards the device. There is the lightest tug of apprehension, the same she always has when matters of lineage or nationality are revealed. She is abated by the inclination towards Dravitus' employ, his terms fair, consistent, and reliable as the man seated beside her. Milja is hopeful now, excited by the prospect of acquiring experience in thaumaturgy and conjury. Quietly she sits, her chin dropping closer to her chest and hands folding neat upon her lap while she awaits her superior to navigate the terms of the contract set forth.

Dravitus nods emphatically. "Excellent." The single word is coloured with satisfaction, and Dravitus even permits himself a fleeting smile of success before he withdraws a pristine folder from within the satchel at his hip. He slides it forward until it presses against the tip of Marius' fingers and says, "The contract has already been drawn up. Feel free to have a trusted aid look it over - I trust that you will find it to your satisfaction. When you have done so, sign it and return it to me at your convenience. I will send Milja to you for her instruction shortly, with appropriate notification." He flicks a glance at the aforementioned woman, favouring her with a brief smile. "I trust that the matter has now been concluded to the satisfaction of all parties?"

Marius had heard the little device, and he'd wondered inwardly what it was, but hadn't deemed it important enough to ask. Perhaps a timekeeping device? Before he could ask, however, there was paperwork being pressed to his fingertips - there was a sudden moment of tension there at the unexpected touch to his hands, even gloved - but it soon vanished. Accepting the contract from Dravitus, he laid it down on the table. "Luckily enough, I know just the person to do so; she'll know what's what," he said with a quiet laugh. "Though you don't seem to be the type to try to take advantage; nay, you seem to me to be the sort that is strict, but fair." Waving a hand, Marius nods. "Yes, I believe I can count our business concluded. Until such time as I return the contract to you," He produces two linkpearls from a pocket and sets them on the table. "you may reach me on my personal line."

Milja turns towards the objectively foreboding man to her left and nods emphatically, practically glowing. Irrepressible radiance defines her in this moment and the Viera is convinced that even lacking sight, Marius would be able to feel it. To be certain, she squeaks out "very much so, a distinction I am grateful for." Milja's head pivots to a slight degree, looking amenably upon their host. "Accurate evaluation, but it is a luxury to know where one stands." Milky fingertips peek from the softened black leather fingerless gloves worn, extending to reach for the linkpearl nearer to her. "Thank you, Marius. I am very much looking forward to working with you. If there is anything to which I may be of service, please do not hesitate to reach out to me." She shifts back into her seat and tucks the small device away in one of the multitude of pockets strewn across her robes. Unconsciously she adjusts a little closer towards her companion, as if seeking assurance without so many words.

Dravitus, for his part, ignores the little magitek machine that is totally not back-flipping like a dumbass contraption - he builds things with more dignity and gravitas than that, thankyouverymuch. "I strive to be as such, at least." He pauses to pat Milja upon her hand gently before rising, smoothing his clothes absently before selecting the linkpearl and pocketing it. "We will be in touch, then. Thank you for your time, Marius. Have a pleasant day." He gestures for Milja to precede him as he turns towards the door.

-Fin- @milja-svartur @marius-vieremont

[firstofficerhobgoblin]

Happy Birthday @luck-over-logic !!!!

To the most wonderful James Tiberius Kirk in the TOS RP community!!!!!

I've now known you for a year and change and I'm ever so very glad I ran into you!! The muse has been silent as the grave of late, but have some Birthday minific! I did Fourth of July Last year, so this year have Pride. And I hope I have to think of summer themes for you for many years to come!!!

________________

Spock liked talking walks during the hottest part of the day. Jim had always known that, but as they got older he began to realize the true implication of the habit. It meant that all damn summer Jim was going to sweat like a horse. Why it was only June 30th, and it was only 11 am, and he was only wearing a t-shirt and lo and behalf he was damn near soaking through it, and was starting to get a little self conscious about the fabric clinging to what it aughtn't, and really he probably shouldn’t be wearing shorts at all at his age, and he wouldn’t have if it wasn’t so hot; he just wasn’t as trim as he’d once been. Bones had taken to calling him good old fashioned fat. He stared at a well built young man in short shorts and a painted on tank top, chatting loudly on his phone as he jogged past them, clearly late for something. He remembered when he looked like that….

“You look perfectly fine to me.” Spock said softly, giving Jim a start. But he smiled at the sentiment. Spock could read his mind even when he wasn’t….well….reading his mind. But he could be a little frustrating when it came to looks, for even in this weather he looked dignified in all blacks and greys and never a day over 50.

Spock reached down and squeezed his hand. Jim, as always, squeezed back, returning the gentle pulse of adoration Spock had sent his way and they carried on.

A minute later a young woman bathed in pink, purple and blue glitter bounced past them, accompanied by a tall man in corresponding pastel pink, blue and white glitter. Spock observed them with quiet curiosity, that peaked when the sparkly pair met up with a girl wearing rainbow body paint, and little else at the end of the block.

“Human youth culture never ceases to amaze.” The Vulcan observed quietly. “Where could they possibly be going looking that conspicuous?”

But when they reached the end of the block and looked uptown, they got their answer. They were nearly bowled over by a wall of sound, emanating from a seething, screaming crowd of people flamboyantly dressed people, all congregated under a massive rainbow banner that read 'San Fran Pride'. Jim laughed aloud. Spocks eyebrows shot up so high they nearly disappeared into his bangs and his grip on Jim’s hand tightened.

“I forgot about LGBT history month!” Jim said. Spock stared at him in a way that indicated his comment had in no way explained the multicolored cabal of glitter and feathers that had appeared before them. “Humans used to be kinda awful to each other, remember? And homosexuality used to be kinda an issue.” He explained.

“I am well aware of your history…” Spock replied, with a gaze canted uncomfortably towards the parade impling Jim’s explanation had not in fact explained a damn thing about the mass of humanity doing their best impersonation of so many birds of paradise. Just then the obligatory Stonewall float passed by, and that was how Jim Kirk found himself shout-explaining the history of pride, from riot, to protest, to party, to historic commemoration, a few feet from the current incarnation of the event. The era when it was a protest. When corporations tried to take it. When it was declared a History Month, like it always should have been. Spock listened with his typical intensity, regarding the display of flamboyance with changing opinion and increasing regard as Jim spoke.

He was just beginning his own tale of “Why, I remember my first Pride. I was about seventeen. I hadn’t quite figured out what I was feeling for men yet and my friend from……..” He trailed off as a float grabbed his eyes and stole all his attention.

The Starfleet sponsored float was topped with a beautiful starship made of iridescent sequins, and the float below was covered in pictures honoring LGBT figures from Starfleet history. The First Homosexual Captain. The First Trans Captain. The first Asexual Captain. But Jim's eyes nearly bugged out of his head at the fifth photo.

The youngest Captain on Record. And his First Officer.

“Now you see here!” He hollered so loud that everyone in the vicinity turned to look at him. “I’m not history yet! I’m still right here!”

Everyone around them was staring, looking back and forth between the oversized image in the approaching float and the pair of old men standing in the back of the parade crowd. Finally someone declared the obvious.

“Holy shit…..it’s them!!! It’s Captain Kirk and Commander Spock!!” someone yelled.

“Admiral and Captain.” Spock corrected, but his insistence on precision was lost in the deafening cry of shrieks that rose up from the crowd around them, loud enough to draw the attention of the older man Marshaling the Starfleet float. The man, who neither of them recognized at first, immediately signaled for the float to stop and started waving like mad.

“Kirk!!!” He shouted, vaulting himself off the float with a spry leap that seemed inappropriate for his advanced years, and bolted to the edge of the Parade barricades. “Jim! Spock!”

It was Spock who saw through the rainbow wig and over the top makeup first. “Captain Sulu?”

“Yes!!!” He shouted back. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? You’d have had a place ON the float!! C’mon! Get up here!! C’mon guys!! Let the infamous Captain James T. Kirk and Commander Spock up here with us!”

Jim tried to insist that they hadn’t planned this at all, but his words of protest were lost in the happy cries of the crowd as they shuffled him and Spock forward and helped them climb the barricade into the parade proper, where Sulu took the Captain’s hand and yanked him up onto the float as it started moving again. Spock, who was still, clinging to Jim’s arm, got dragged along with and was surprised to find himself and Jim’s presence getting aggressively cheered.

Sulu immediately began fussing over their appearance, swapping out Jim’s t shirt for a multicolored tank with the image of a frying pan on it that they both found hilarious but Spock found confusing. Spock, to his great displeasure, had a tub of glitter dumped on him after he’d selected for himself on a small, tasteful button that read “Elder Queer” from the box Sulu had pulled Jim’s new shirt from. But once the parade got going again, they both had to admit that the energy was infections. And people were so very happy to see the pair of them, Riding together astride the great glittering starship float.

“You mean so much to them.” Sulu beamed at the pair at one point. “Not just the gay couples….but the interspecies couples. The offworld queers. You’re icons to them. And watching the two of you, always at the forefront…..you give them so much hope.” After that comment Spock was a little more visible about his affections with Jim, even managing a human kiss when they reached the grandstand.

And Jim? He was having the time of his life, playing back and forth with the crowds, throwing out rainbow Starfleet insignias, and rousing cheers every time he touched Spock. Gone we’re his previous doubts about his age. His looks. Everything. As he so eloquently put it…he wasn’t history yet.

[marius-vieremont]

The Doctor Is In (RP log)

Dravitus Akaelos 's entrance is preceded by three sharp, precise raps upon the door as the man's gloved knuckles impact upon the wood. Stepping inside without even the slightest hint of hesitation, the formidable figure fills the doorway for a moment as he scans the interior, before stepping to one side and holding the door open for his companion. "After you, Milja." He turns to Marius with a polite smile, inclining his head in greeting. "Hello, Mr. Vieremont. Thank you for meeting us."

Marius Vieremont paused in mid-sentence as the door was rapped upon and so opened, as his guests stepped through. Upon the page, a quill stood upright, apparently having been transcribing his spoken thoughts. With a small gesture, it fell to the book, leaving only a small splatter of ink. His unfocused gaze moved to approximately the location of those who had entered and he inclined his head. "It is my pleasure. Please, do call me Marius."

[1:07]★Milja Svartur She moves with quiet calculation, slow and at his heels as is expected of someone of her status, or more accurately, lack thereof. Plenty able, she does not need any doors held for her, but every time this grace is shown to her, her ears perk and the faintest tickle which threatens a smile percolates her insides. Nodding, she moves towards the interior-- polished and clean, lacking any offensive scents which might have alluded to subpar practice. Her eyes are bright and wide, flicking over the furniture before resting on the books, and finally the man. She is hard to read, lacking much expression, her lips an unaffected flat-line, though her eyes may have told a different story. "Thank you for having us mii.... Marius." Her soft voice shifts gears just as it begins and she looks down to the marbled floors. "Marius." She affirms, respecting her host's wishes.

Dravitus Akaelos shuts the door with a gentle 'click', pressing his fingers briefly upon Milja's back to nudge her towards the seats as he himself steps unhurriedly towards them. He indicates them with a light gesture, head canting to one side, "Of course, Marius. May we sit?"

Gloved hands gesture to the comfortable couch in front of Marius’ desk, plenty of room for both of them. "Yes, please do," he said, reaching out unerringly and closing the patient journal that he'd been recording thoughts into. The click of heels and feminine cast of the voice gave him all the clue he needed; "Miss Milja and Dravitus Akaelos, I presume?"

"You have it right," There is the slightest rise in her voice, pleased and pleasant. Milja glides her fingertips over the furniture, carefully and with tender sort of reverence before seating herself before the elegant elezen.

"Correct." comes the smooth, deep voice, followed by the sound of fabric and leather rustling and the faintest creak of the seat taking the man's considerable mass. Folding one hand atop the other upon his abdomen, Dravitus regards the physician with open, unabashed curiosity. "I apologise if we disturbed you in the midst of your work - if it is of import, please do continue. We are not opposed to waiting, after all."

The clinic around them is pristine; immaculately clean with gleaming marble floors and without a speck of dust anywhere. There's the scent of fresh linens on the bed, the pungent smell of the herbs suspended above them and the musty scent of the wall of books. Some appear to be patient journals, others are books on doctoring and still others are volumes of conjury and thaumaturgy. The man himself is reed-thin, with salt and pepper black hair and dressed as circumspectly as his clinic. Motioning vaguely with a gloved hand, he shakes his head. "It is nothing that cannot be continued later on, I'd not have guests wait. Besides, I prefer to keep patient notes confidential, if you'll pardon me. How is your man recovering? The stitches should have dissolved by now."

[1:32]★Milja Svartur: || adjusts herself a few times, but consistently she fixed on their host with genuine interest. She is here to learn, and is appreciative of any opportunity afforded to her. For this reason, she might have been a bit stiffer than usual, her shifting positions indicative of the importance she holds this meeting in. However, her demeanor becomes somewhat more effervescent once they begin speaking of recovery. "Yes!" She quietly exclaims, though almost immediately regrets that hint of excitement which colors the singular syllable. "He has recovered very nicely-- much faster than anticipated, and the scar has already paled from purples to whites. You'd not believe the condition he was in prior if you saw him today."

Dravitus Akaelos 's lips curve so faintly one would be hard pressed to note the shift in expression, yet the amusement is nonetheless there, lending a glimmer to the burnished silver of his eyes as Milja fails to contain her enthusiasm. An inclination of the head precedes his own commentary, tone calm and level as he remarks, "Indeed. You laid an admirable foundation upon which my medical staff could work, Marius. I believe that I would not be incorrect in assuming that you have something of a passion for your work, beyond that of your peers. Certainly," and here he gestures about him, encompassing the clinic as a whole, "your place of work certainly displays enough telltale signs of such a trait, and I have no doubt that it is not artifice on your behalf."

Close inspection of the man reveals a hint of his own personal challenges; his pale gaze never quite focuses on either of them, though it is aimed in their general direction. At the enthusiastic little squeak of a word, Marius offers a genuine smile of thin lips, seeming sincerely pleased at the report. "Thank you, and well-pleased am I to hear it," he states crisply, nodding in Milja's direction. His attention shifts to Dravitus as he speaks and he gives a quiet huff of amusement. "No, you are not incorrect. I enjoy my work and find it... mn, uniquely rewarding. Ah, but I am being rude. May I offer refreshments? Water, tea... something stronger?"

5]★Milja Svartur is perceptive enough to notice the seeming difficulty the man has in focusing on them as one might have typically, but this hardly tarnishes her opinion of his ability. Her cheeks grow hot as she realizes she might have been staring inappropriately long at the icy silver slits of Marius' gaze, still incredibly striking, despite their lack of focus. She inhales deeply and huffs out a short spurt of a sigh, hardly despairing, which dissipates into the air her relief. She is pleased to have been received so kindly, but old habits died hard and she subconsciously could not refrain from holding her breath in situations such as this, where she carried the heavy burden of having to impress others. Especially those who had shown her a life she had been deprived of for so long. "When one works in earnest and enjoys it, it is always apparent. I would appreciate a tea, if you don't mind." For a moment she considers offering her assistance, but refrains for fear of inadvertently offending the man. This was his home, after all.

[1:59]Dravitus Akaelos , for his part, seems largely indifferent to the man's condition - blindness was an impairment, of course, but the Elezen seemed more than capable of overcoming it. Pity would be a grave insult, in the half-blood's view, in light of the accomplishments the doctor had made despite what held him back. A familiar sentiment, after all. So his own silver eyes settled comfortably upon Marius' unseeing gaze, affording the man the full weight of his attention as he would any other. "I am no stranger to finding one's work rewarding. There are few things in life more fulfilling, I find." A brief smile accompanies the words, the sincerity of his tone evident. The sound of thick synthetic fabric sliding upon itself accompanies the uplifting of a forestalling hand as he replies, "No, thank you, though I appreciate the offer. Tell me, Marius - how is business in Ul'dah? Do you see many patients of late?"

]Marius Vieremont certainly didn't seem to notice Milja's lengthy stare, though he does cant his head slightly at the sigh of relief - a flicker of curiosity reflecting in his narrow features. "I do hope you like black tea, all I have on hand at the moment is an Ishgardian blend. I have cream and sugar to sweeten it, if you prefer it as I do," he replied conversationally, rising and taking precise steps - as if counted in his head - over to the stove. Without difficulty, he places the kettle on and retrieves the box of tea pouches as well as any sighted man could. "Business in Ul'dah is always thriving, which while fortunate for me, is rather less so for those under my care. No physician wants to be *needed* for their services, of course, but I'm grateful to be able to provide succor for those who require it." He turns, leaning back against the counter.

[2:06]Marius Vieremont: "It'll be but a moment for the tea, Miss."

[2:15]★Milja Svartur is filled with something akin to mortified as she accepted the offer of hospitality only to have Dravitus decline. Distinctly feeling as though she has put her host out, her ears tip back down, closer to her head and she averts her eyes, looking towards Marius as he moves towards the stove. She is certain of her mistake, and resolves to wait for him to answer first in other situations of this nature going forward. "Sorry." While Marius puts on the kettle, she issues an apology which is both sincere and humbled, though unsolicited. Still she is gracious, perhaps more-so, when the Elezen addresses her "Of course, thank you so much-- black tea is just fine, Ishgardian is all the better." Only half her attention can be devoted to the topic of business while the rest of her facilities internally chastise herself.

Dravitus Akaelos listens attentively to their host as he responds to the query, though he allows his gaze to flick about the room as he studies it with clinical interest, noting various topics of the books within his range of vision, and so on. His eyes flick to Milja at her apology, to which he simply raises a hand in a dismissive gesture, giving her a slight lift of one shoulder in a shrug. "A laudable sentiment, to be sure. Do you have much experience in treating combat wounds - from the gladiatorial arena, perhaps? Or are you more inclined towards more mundane ailments?"

Their host seems puzzled by the apology, and there is a moment of uncertainty as to who it is being directed to. In the end, he elects not to acknowledge it at all, as he cannot imagine what in the world she would be sorry for. As promised it's only moments until the kettle whistles and he pours the tea - two cups - setting both on the tray, along with a small porcelain cup of cream and a dish of sugar with a spoon settled within. Taking up the tray, he carries the entire affair over to the desk and sets it down. "After you, my dear," he invites, motioning to the cream and sugar and giving her ample time to help herself. Settling back down in his chair, he considers the question.

[2:25]Marius Vieremont: "My true calling is healing the aetherflows of the body, but I am also extensively experienced in both combat-related injury and the more mundane. My parents ensured the quality of my education growing up, once they realized my talent for healing."

[2:33]★Milja Svartur || An ear perks to the whistle of the kettle and Milja rights herself, sitting straighter as to steel herself. She puts aside insecurities in favor of attending to the conversation at hand, as she knows is expected of her. "It smells lovely, I am glad to not be partaking alone." She favors Marius slightly more for this gesture, intentional or not. Reaching for the tea, there is a certain timidness in how she takes it to her hand, cradling it carefully, each movement graceful and distinctly feminine. Blowing softly, the lip of the mug to her painted lips, she listens with astute attention to their host, intermittently checking for temperature. "Your parents, were they healers also or supportive of your art?"

[2:37]Dravitus Akaelos 's demeanour changes not a whit as Marius sets the cup before the Viera at his side, the benign, solid confidence wavering not at all as she accepts the offered cup. A list of the myriad and sundry ingredients one could add to a warm brew to cause all manner of ill effects flickers briefly through his thoughts before he dismisses it - she would learn the hard way, if it was tampered with. "Duly noted." He pauses, allowing Milja to field her question, and appears content to give Marius time to respond before besieging him with further queries.

1]Marius Vieremont favors Milja with a warm, genuine smile. "I never turn down an excuse for a cup of tea," he confides with a wink in her direction, a chuckle soon following. It's a soft, pleasant sound, and as sincere as his smile was. His teacup was only half-full, the reason for which soon became obvious, as he added a copious amount of both cream and sugar to the teacup. Someone had a sweet-tooth, it seemed. "My mother - rest her soul - was the healer in the family. My father, who also passed many years was more of a..." He hums softly, searching for the word. "Protector, of sorts." The mage doesn't seem to mind the myriad questions, answering each with ease.

[2:50]★Milja Svartur Amethyst eyes follow the cream as it swirls into the dark tea and becomes opaque. While this was all par for the tea course, she did not anticipate the amount of sugar dumped into the cup. Humored, a brow lifts and she fails to stifle an amused grin. She is riveted with interest now, hanging on the words he speaks and reeled in by the dulcet sounds of his laughter. She is wary, but she is distinctly aware of something within her tempering ingrained dubiety. She nods, considering what he says of his family and can not refrain from flicking her attention towards Dravitus for a brief moment. "They sound like an effective pair, and clearly their efforts have served you well-- serving US well, especially Garilan."

[2:53]Dravitus Akaelos's brows lift at the sheer amount of sugar that pours - and continues to pour - into the cup. The ratio of liquid to sugar seemed barely enough to render the sweetening substance dissolved, and it occurs to him that perhaps that is the sole reason why there is that much tea in the cup at all - as a vehicle for the sugar and little else. Could the man even taste the tea at that stage? Giving his head a disbelieving shake, he comments, "It is commendable that they chose a profession for their child that seems suited. At least, if the passion for healing was an existing one and not something perforce adopted, of course." The tips of his gloved right hand's fingers smooth out over the leg of his trousers as he regards Marius appraisingly for a moment, before nodding to himself. "Indeed. I have seen the butchery that some of the so-called healers perform in this province, and so I am inclined towards securing your services for my personnel, if you are amenable." He smiles, pleasant despite the business-like focus of his words, and continues. "I am offering you a contract, Marius. I wish for my personnel to have priority treatment, within reason, should they require it when they are in the area. Naturally, emergencies are to take precedence over matters that do not threaten the lives of my people, and you are free to go about your business as you see fit otherwise." He cocks his head at the man, studying him. "Your thoughts?"

"It's always been that way for our family," he explains, taking a sip of his tea and sighing with contentment. "It's been arranged like that for hundreds of years, passed down with our own personal traditions through the centuries. One has always been the healer - the Advocate - and the other has always been the protector - our Arbiter. Gender factors not at all into it," he explains. "And they had something of a talent in choosing professions for my brothers and I, even if I wanted to be a Knight when I was very young," he says with a rolling chuckle. Shifting his gaze to Dravitus, he listens attentively to the offer, curiosity glimmering in his silvery eyes. "Your ‘personnel’? Are you the leader of some militia, then?"

[3:23]★Milja Svartur "Oh, that is interesting. I've not encountered familial arrangements of that nature before, but it makes sense." a faint blush paints her pallid features pink as her mind wanders where it might, but she quickly reins that in and crosses her legs. Eyes search Marius' smooth features for any trace of emotion, any inkling of his intent of acceptance of what Dravitus lays out with almost rapacious eagerness. The offer was fair, and from her own experience Milja knew it would become fairer still once a proposal was extended. While she should have disappointed to find Dravitus' offering met with a question, she is instead met with a sort of pride. He was not wrong, but her lips are tight and her eyes glisten towards Dravitus in anticipation of his response.

[3:29]Dravitus Akaelos 's  head tilts to one side as he watches Marius, regarding the man with curiosity as he outlines his familial traditions - Ishgard was not an unknown quantity, but nor was it an area of his expertise. "You can still heal with one hand and wield a blade in the other. I would count that a superior knight to most." The corner of his mouth flickers up in a twitch of amusement, eyebrows quirking at the suggestion. "A milita?" A hand glides through the air in a smooth refutal of the notion. "Nothing so amateurish, I assure you. I own and run Reign Enterprises, which is a multi-national business that has a number of interests and departments. Foremost, however, you may consider us something of a private military company. I train, manage and dispatch my personnel on a wide variety of tasks, in many places, often simultaneously. I am seeking to expand into Eorzea, and having medical personnel contracted to attend my company foremost is among the foremost necessities when expanding my holdings into a new area."

Marius Vieremont 's expression was quite easily read, a hint of curiosity laced with a good bit of interest. The man had no poker face, not even a little - likely come from his inability to read other peoples' expressions. "It's certainly not a common arrangement," he demures in agreement with her. "But, as I said - tradition." Shifting his attention to Dravitus, he listens quietly, sipping his tea, whilst the other man speaks. "I admit, your organization does sound rather impressive. I am concerned, however, as to the volume of patients I might be taking on. I am, as is obvious, only one man - although I have a connection to a network of other healers, should the need arise that I take on more than one or two patients at a time. I am inclined to agree to your proposal. What are you offering as recompense?"

[3:41]★Milja Svartur || Dravitus had early on demonstrated his impressive acumen when it came to matters of military and business. Furthermore, Milja was impressed with his willingness to dirty his own hands in matters which otherwise may not have concerned individuals of similar appointment. It was an admirable trait among many, and when he spoke, his own passion was clear. Milja sits back, easing behind the lead of her superior and relaxing with what she anticipates to be an eminent acceptance. Should Marius find the offer agreeable, Milja looked forward to the prospect of working with him to further her own art.

[3:45]Dravitus Akaelos || "Funding." The reply is immediate and delivered without pomp - stated in a clipped and factual manner, before he continues. "Aside from that, I have access to resources that I can place at your disposal, should you require or desire them, for whatever reason. As I have mentioned, my reach extends to other nations, and so I have an easier time of conveying material that is otherwise difficult, if not impossible, to acquire here." He flicks his fingers in a peremptory fashion, stating, "I will not overwhelm you, worry not. In the event of a large-scale operation being conducted in the region, I will notify you and offer you the opportunity to accompany them as a stand-by medical operative - with appropriate bonuses for doing so. As well, I can bolster your staff and facilities on an as-needed basis." He dips his head towards Milja. "Milja numbers among my existing medical staff, as an example - though I would also reward you for sharing your experience and skill with her and others that may benefit from it, should you be amenable."

"Funding is of a lesser concern, as I have my family's coffers at my disposal. We are a small House in Ishgardian society, largely unnoticed, but a wealthy one," he states succinctly, without boasting. "However, I would certainly value the resources you mentioned - as I've mentioned, I'm only one man, and at the moment, must resort to purchasing what I need for supplies, rather than gathering and making them myself. Herbs for tinctures and potions, cloth for bandages and et cetera." He paused and set his empty teacup down. "In the interest of being frank and fair dealings, I should disclose to you - in case you've not yet realized - that I am quite blind. Entirely so, as it happens. I do have a... means of seeing, when absolutely necessary, but I fear I would be a liability as a combat medic on the front lines with your men. As for sharing my expertise with Miss Milja and others, that would be certainly doable."

[4:10]★Milja Svartur is marginally taken off-guard by the welcomed moment she could offer herself towards industry for the man who had positioned himself as a champion in her eyes. With catlike reflexes, Milja pounces on this opportunity, eagerly coming to meet minds with their host. "Of course. While coin is always advantageous, one who has honed their art to the degree you have weighs other valuables higher. Resources happen to be in the realm of my own abilities. I can extend my gift of gathering, among other utilitarian talents to further your own objectives." In regard to blindness, Milja had surmised as much. In the lull of a brief pause, she smiles. "Clearly one does not need sight to be talented, I am certain your knowledge and experience would serve our necessities just as well from behind the front-lines. That is what I am here for."

[4:13]Dravitus Akaelos nods curtly, having anticipated the response - there was little about Marius or his clinic that denoted a dearth of funding, but it seemed greed was not a motivator for the man, either. Interesting. "I can supply those, and other materials and resources. I believe that you could benefit from a choice selection of magitek medical equipment, for example." His tone turns dry as he  cocks a brow at the man's declaration of his visual impairment. "You may be blind, Marius, but I am not. It would take an oblivious individual indeed to neglect to notice such a thing. You need not actually fight, simply await field casualties in the triage on-site, but that can be discussed at a later time." He laces his fingers together and sets his intertwined hands atop his thighs, continuing. "Do you have requests that you would like to make in order to secure your services? I will not prevaricate -I insist that my personnel get treated first, when they suffer in equal measure to others."

Marius Vieremont smiles in Milja's direction, inclining his head slightly. "In return for such responsibilities that I would direct you to, I would be more than happy to share my expertise in both conjury and thaumaturgy, if you wish." He pauses when she speaks again, and he nods. "That is where I would best serve, I do agree. I am knowledgeable in triage as well and have acted as such an agent before, in addition to lending my healing skills to those who require it." Intrigue took the man's expression as mentioned magitek medical equipment. "Interesting. One wonders where you might have gotten your hands on something of that nature, to be given at will." As he had already mentioned the subject of triage, he allowed his previous words to stand on their own. "The amount of resources and such can be drawn up in a standard contract," he said, gesturing vaguely. "But otherwise, I would have no other requests. Yours that your personnel be treated first is fair." He tapped his knee twice, then nodded. "I am inclined to accept your offer."

Milja Svartur 's evaluates the two taps on her companion's knee and considers if there was any relevance to such a gesture. Her ear flickers to the back-flipping wind-up at her back, the dampened clang of metal against marble pulling her attention towards the device. There is the lightest tug of apprehension, the same she always has when matters of lineage or nationality are revealed. She is abated by the inclination towards Dravitus' employ, his terms fair, consistent, and reliable as the man seated beside her. Milja is hopeful now, excited by the prospect of acquiring experience in thaumaturgy and conjury. Quietly she sits, her chin dropping closer to her chest and hands folding neat upon her lap while she awaits her superior to navigate the terms of the contract set forth.

[4:33]Dravitus Akaelos nods emphatically. "Excellent." The single word is coloured with satisfaction, and Dravitus even permits himself a fleeting smile of success before he withdraws a pristine folder from within the satchel at his hip. He slides it forward until it presses against the tip of Marius' fingers and says, "The contract has already been drawn up. Feel free to have a trusted aid look it over - I trust that you will find it to your satisfaction. When you have done so, sign it and return it to me at your convenience. I will send Milja to you for her instruction shortly, with appropriate notification." He flicks a glance at the aforementioned woman, favouring her with a brief smile. "I trust that the matter has now been concluded to the satisfaction of all parties?"

Marius had heard the little device, and he'd wondered inwardly what it was, but hadn't deemed it important enough to ask. Perhaps a timekeeping device? Before he could ask, however, there was paperwork being pressed to his fingertips - there was a sudden moment of tension there at the unexpected touch to his hands, even gloved - but it soon vanished. Accepting the contract from Dravitus, he laid it down on the table. "Luckily enough, I know just the person to do so; she'll know what's what," he said with a quiet laugh. "Though you don't seem to be the type to try to take advantage; nay, you seem to me to be the sort that is strict, but fair." Waving a hand, Marius nods. "Yes, I believe I can count our business concluded. Until such time as I return the contract to you," He produces two linkpearls from a pocket and sets them on the table. "you may reach me on my personal line."

[4:53]★Milja Svartur turns towards the objectively foreboding man to her left and nods emphatically, practically glowing. Irrepressible radiance defines her in this moment and the Viera is convinced that even lacking sight, Marius would be able to feel it. To be certain, she squeaks out "very much so, a distinction I am grateful for." Milja's head pivots to a slight degree, looking amenably upon their host. "Accurate evaluation, but it is a luxury to know where one stands." Milky fingertips peek from the softened black leather fingerless gloves worn, extending to reach for the linkpearl nearer to her. "Thank you, Marius. I am very much looking forward to working with you. If there is anything to which I may be of service, please do not hesitate to reach out to me." She shifts back into her seat and tucks the small device away in one of the multitude of pockets strewn across her robes. Unconsciously she adjusts a little closer towards her companion, as if seeking assurance without so many words.

[4:57]Dravitus Akaelos , for his part, ignores the little magitek machine that is totally not back-flipping like a dumbass contraption - he builds things with more dignity and gravitas than that, thankyouverymuch. "I strive to be as such, at least." He pauses to pat Milja upon her hand gently before rising, smoothing his clothes absently before selecting the linkpearl and pocketing it. "We will be in touch, then. Thank you for your time, Marius. Have a pleasant day." He gestures for Milja to precede him as he turns towards the door.

-Fin-

@dravitus-akaelos @milja-svartur