#i literally convinced a friend of mine who never conditioned her hair that she should try it and she’s never looked back it’s just the way

[pretentiouskneecaps]

Jamie not conditioning his hair… that’s how you know it’s dire

[yourmcu]

Wish You Were Here (i)

Pairings: Tony Stark x daughter!reader, Avengers x Stark!reader

Summary:

an Infinity War/Endgame AU where Tony Stark’s daughter (you) is one of half the population that vanishes in the snap, Tony finds out later on when he arrives back to Earth, devastated, then you come back like the others to help fight Thanos.

Word count: 2,030

A/n: (moved to the end of the fic!)

Warnings: angst, death, swearing, a lil soft!Nat in the beginning bc I love her, mentions of anxiety/anxiety

read on ao3!

Part 2

gif not mine! credits to the owner^^

You wanted to help in whatever was happening, you weren’t quite sure still, but it had something to do with the infinity stones and how you guys needed to find them before some guy named Thanos does.

It took a lot of convincing for Steve, Natasha and Rhodey (they were the ones more protective over you) to let you come, especially with Tony not around to scold you since he was in space.

“I’m coming with you guys whether you like it or not - no, I know what you’re gonna say, I can handle myself. I’m sixteen! Did you know Peter’s in space right now with Dad? Outer freaking space. You’re not the only one who has a suit, Rhodey-”

The argument ended with, “if something happens and I-” you dragged your thumb across your neck, “then it’s on me. None of you are to blame. Can we go now?”

So they didn’t have any other choice. You went to Wakanda with them to get the mind stone out of Vision and intend to destroy it afterwards.

Things got a *bit* out of hand though, there was an army of creatures - they’re from space, you assumed, working for Thanos - trying to get the stone. You fought alongside Sam and Rhodey, sometimes even fighting with Bruce who was using the Hulkbuster. You also helped the Wakanda tribes when they got overpowered by the creatures.

Even Thor came back to fight and he brought a raccoon and a tree with him.

The battle was going really messy, until - “Everyone on my position. We got incoming.”

You fly to where Cap and the team are, and there he is coming out of what appears to be a cloudy, blue grayish portal, Thanos himself.

“Cap, that’s him.” Bruce says as he hides you behind the Hulkbuster to shield you. He slowly walks over to the purple titan before saying, “stay down, [Y/N], alright?”

Did all of them suddenly forget that you, if not more, are stubborn like your father?

Because when all of them attack, you fly behind Thanos when he's distracted and wrap both your metal covered arms around his neck in stupid attempts to strangle him. He effortlessly uses his gauntlet to throw you back to the ground, knocking you out.

He eventually got all the stones, snapped his fingers when Thor failed to kill him, and left.

“What did you do?!”

“Where did he go? Thor, where did he go?”

“What’s happening?” You get off the ground as Bucky turns to dust. You look around and saw the air filled with the same dust, just from different people.

What the hell did that snap do?

People are vanishing, disappearing, are they dying? Why are they dying? You’re pretty sure you're panicking. Your lips start to quiver and you feel your chest tighten, making it hard for you to breathe.

Natasha notices right away. She's the one who could help you with your anxiety attacks besides Tony. She comes to you and places her hands on your shoulders, looking you in the eye. “Hey, it’s going to be okay, you’re fine, just breathe with me,”

You watch Wanda, one of  your best friends, turn to dust too which did not help in the slightest. What’s worse is when Natasha holds your hands to calm you down,

They start turning into dust particles.

“No no no no no no,” you grow weak, holding onto her. “Nat, I’m scared - I don’t - I don’t know what to-”

“Y/N, just breathe like we practiced, okay?”

You try copying her breathing but it’s no use. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re still fading away. You look at her, tears threatening to fall out of your eyes, “I’m so sorry.” She has no choice but to hug you tightly until you get dusted completely.

The Avengers just lost a kid. Not just any kid, for them you were special. You always supported the team no matter what. They couldn’t even imagine what Tony’s reaction would be.

When Natasha told Pepper of course she didn’t take it well.

You were Tony’s own flesh and blood (and some one night stand chic that we won’t mention anymore starting now), but Pepper helped raised you when Tony first took you in and treated you like her own. Sometimes you even called her ‘mom’.

She was so relieved when a spaceship came by the compound to drop Tony off - he looked weak and skinny - she didn’t know how to break the awful news to him while he was in that condition.

“I lost the kid,” he meant Peter. What he doesn’t know was that he actually lost two.

“It’s been twenty-three days since Thanos came to Earth.”

Bruce and Natasha keep looking over one another as images of the people they lost in the snap took turns popping up as holograms. Rhodey feels tense and keeps tapping his foot - nervous of what his best friend’s gonna do once he sees-

Tony abruptly stands up from his wheelchair. “Stop. Stop there.” (“Tony, you need to sit down,”) “No.” He stumbles over to a particular hologram, the one with his daughter’s face.

Y/N Stark.

The room is awfully quiet. Despite you telling them that it isn’t going to be any of their faults if something happens to you, they still feel responsible for you.

“Was anyone going to tell me?” He speaks softly. Too soft and calm for all of them that they remain glued to where they're standing, avoiding eye contact. He clenches his fists and sends a look to  everyone in the room. “You better not be shitting me I already lost Parker and I - I can’t - I can’t lose her. I can’t.”

“Tony,” Natasha says. “We couldn’t do anything to stop it.”

It's like being stabbed with his own blade all over again. She tells him everything that happened, how you got dusted like Peter, and Tony just stares blankly at your photo, looking very pale.

Tony takes a deep breath and pushes his glasses further up his nose, holding in  tears. Good thing his glasses cover it up. He mutters ‘okay’ over and over as he takes a seat back in his wheelchair. Steve hesitates to continue the discussion but Tony encourages him to go on, even though he feels like he was literally dying inside.

His mood definitely went downhill from there - Tony's furious with himself. Furious with them, with Steve, that he takes it out on the super soldier. By the end of it he's on the floor, passed out.

“Dad, come in, it’s [Y/N]. Everything alright out there?”

“Oh y’know, typical day in the city - pair of aliens came to visit again.” Tony sounded breathless.

You paused briefly. “...what? W-well, do you need help? I can help, and Peter’s probably on his way there - he just made a lame excuse and hung up on me so, I figured he sensed something was wrong.”

“Yeah. Stay where you are and when things get worse, find Pepper and get to safety.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“Nope. Deadass serious. Stay out of this one.”

Tony opens his eyes and takes in his surroundings. He's transferred to a bed with the same wires poking his arm. He dreamt of his last conversation with you - before and while he was dragged to space.

“Hey, I’m still here, you know,” you cut him off while he was arguing with Strange.

“[Y/N]? How is this still connected?”

“I made the earpiece set myself - I guess it has really long range, huh?”

“You’re a nerd.” Tony cracked a small smile.

“Hi [Y/N]!” Peter shouted from a distance.

“Peter? You’re in space too? I’m so jeal-”

The line completely went out, guess the range wasn’t that long.

“Tony?” Pepper says gently. “You shouldn’t be up - it’s only been an hour since you passed out.”

He looks at her for a moment then returns his attention to the wall, eyes bloodshot. “Have I been a good father to her? ‘Cause I feel like she deserved more. Way more.”

“Of course, she loved you! Tony, [Y/N] loved you as much as you love her,” Pepper reassures, running a hand through his hair. “I know you’re upset but you really should be getting bed rest right now.”

He sniffles and gave a small nod, “okay.”

He closes his eyes again when she left the room and sigh, mumbling “goddammit kid,” before letting the tears flow down. Tony rarely cries. Barely cries. He usually keeps those stupid emotions in but this - the fact that his little girl is gone, it's too much for him. He realized never fully showed how much you meant to him and he regrets it.

Can't help but think that it should've been me Either way, I still wish you were here.

Fast forward to five years later: Tony now lived at a lakeside cabin with Pepper and their daughter, Morgan.

Moving on was better than to be sad and depressed for the rest of his life. That’s what you wanted for him anyway, to be happy.

So that’s exactly what Tony did.

He spent time with his family, made new suits which he enjoyed to do, living his life peacefully. That doesn’t mean he forgot about you. Sure the last few years were hard, he missed you every single day, but he had to face and accept it.

Tony moved your stuff from the compound and into a vacant room in the cabin. Sometimes he’d look through your crazy inventions, your journals that were filled with ideas for future gadgets and he hung up framed photos of you and him (some with Pepper) on the walls.

He told Morgan all about you. How awesome you were, how you were energetic and enthusiastic in everything you do, and how the both of you would be best friends if you two met.

“I wanna meet her,” Morgan says, looking at pictures of you.

Tony smiles sadly and looks at the photo of you and him. It was at your school’s science fair and your invention won first place (he remembered laughing at all the science teachers’ shocked faces because of your advanced gadget, way advanced than the grade you were in). Both of you looked really happy.

If a picture is all that I have, I can picture the times that we won't get back If I picture it now it don't seem so bad Either way, I still wish you were here.

“Someday, maybe.” He replies, giving her a warm smile.

Steve, Natasha and a new guy Scott visited him one day. They basically told him bringing back everyone who died in the snap was possible, hinting time travel.

Tony was torn. He didn’t want to risk losing what he had now, but bringing everyone back... that was something. Everyone in the universe that vanished, the other Avengers, the guardians he met in space, Strange, Peter, you.

That same night he thought about you, and Peter when he stumbled upon a picture of both of them. That same night, he figured out time travel.

“Hey legacy,” he chuckles a bit, remembering how you always frowned or pouted whenever he called you that. He likes that nickname on you though. “I... uh, this is just a little video. For you. Sure you won’t see this but... I like to pretend I could still talk to you. I miss you, a lot.”

“It’s been five years, hun. Morgan, your sister... you have no idea how much she talks about you. She wants to meet you someday,” he looks at the camera. “I know I can’t tell her the real reason why you’re not here with us, not yet, but anyway, ‘couple of old pals came to visit me. They want to try to get everyone back, that includes you.”

Tony sighs, looking away. “As of now I don’t know if we’re ever gonna pull off something like this. I figured it out, just a couple minutes ago actually. Time travel. It’s dangerous, very risky...”

“But we’ll see. We’ll figure something out. I hope to see you soon, [Y/N]. I love you.”

----

so I’ve cut this lil idea into two parts - I’ll probs post part 2 soon right after this one - if everyone likes it of course :)

oh, and I listened to this song by Neck Deep while writing this, which is where I got the title too, you can listen here. (I also put in some lyrics from the song to the story, just because it fits well hehe)

[donutloverxo]

Salty Baby

Chapter two

Authors note- thanks to @official-and-unstable-satan​ for being my beta. I’ll give you a thank you gift soon enough. No smut today next time i promise. happy reading.

Please do not repost or steal my work. Reblogs are welcome.

Summary- When you moved to New York in hopes of living a glamorous life this isn't what you expected. Steve offers to help you but your pride gets in the way. Pride isn't going to pay your rent and college loans.

Pairing- Steve Rogers x reader

Series warning- smut, sugar daddy/baby themes, angst, salty reader.

Word count- 1.5k

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE

Masterlist

The whole week you couldn’t stop thinking about Steve. You went as far as to research him. He had lived such an interesting, accomplished life so many things. You couldn’t help but feel intimidated.

Steve had texted you the details of the restaurant. When you said your favorite food was pizza he took it upon himself to book a table at a five star Michelin star Italian restaurant. You being an uncultured simpleton said yes without knowing what you were getting yourself into.

You had never been to a fancy restaurant. You didn’t own a single dress. Neither could you afford one right now. There’s no way in hell your sister would let you set foot in her closet let alone borrow a dress.

“Are you coming to the party tomorrow?”, your coworker Alyssa asked. She had perpetually been nosy and annoying. Always oversharing or probing you about your personal life.

“No I have a date”

“Oh wow!”, she exclaimed jumping up and down. “Is it with that tall drink of water who’s totally obsessed with you?”

“Well... yeah”

“What are you going to wear?”, she asked propping herself up on her elbow batting her eyelashes at you.

You sighed deeply. “I don’t have anything to wear.” You considered cancelling just because of that. You didn’t have a lot of free time to date or socialize. But then you have been in New York for over a year and had yet to have a fun night out on the town.

“Well we’re about the same size. How about you borrow a dress of mine? On one condition! You have to tell me literally everything.”

“Why?”, while you weren’t keen on accepting help from her there weren’t many other options.

“Because that’s just what girls do!”

Alyssa set you up with a beautiful red dress that ended just above your knee that showed just a hint of cleavage. ‘To leave something to the imagination' apparently.

She also warned you at least ten times not to put out on the first date. Which you probably weren’t going to anyway. After a few touches of makeup you were good to go.

***

To make sure he doesn’t make a fool out of himself, Steve went to Natasha for some advice on modern dating. She was his only female friend. Probably his only friend.

She convinced him to buy bunch of new clothes and a new haircut. He wasn’t so sure about the new look but from what he had observed he looked quite modern.

“Oh new haircut”, Tony comments on the Steve’s new look when he comes and sits in the conference room in front of him. “You don’t stick out like a sore thumb now”

“Steve has a hot date”, Natasha smirked. “he’s kind of nervous about it”

“There’s no need to be nervous”, Tony drawls out pushing back on his chair. “Women love to talk about themselves. Just ask her about her hopes and dreams. She is a real human woman right?”

“I’m not sure I should be taking advice from you” Neither did he want to discuss his love life before an important meeting. Although he had to agree it was pretty good advice.

“And money. Women like money”, he continued going through his phone

“Don’t listen to Stark’s misogynistic wisdom. Not all girls are after money” Natasha said throwing Tony a glare.

“Yeah he’ll find out for himself soon enough”, he threw back.

Steve knew money played a part in relationships. It provided security. He was grateful about the more than sufficient funds in his bank account. Some from his army back pay and some from working for shield and the Avengers. After the days he had seen during the depression he considered himself very lucky to treat you to an expensive meal or anything else you would like. But at the same time he didn’t want you to be interested in him solely for his money.

He parked the car he borrowed from Tony outside your apartment building. Both him and Natasha had given him long lecture while laughing at him when he said he was going to pick you up on his motorcycle.

When he looked at your red dress he was more than glad that he didn’t bring his motorcycle. He tried to supress the fact that he was so mesmerised by you. He gave you the small bouquet of roses he had bought on his way.

“Wow”, you exclaimed looking at his hair. “It suits you. Can I touch it?”

He couldn’t supress his lovesick grin and shyly nodded his headed. Sighing in content feeling you run your fingers through his shirt hair.

He felt you shifting in your seat on the drive to the restaurant. It somewhat calmed him to know you were just as nervous.

You both took and seats and ordered some food. You were looking around at the decor in awe talking about how beautiful and sophisticated everything is.

He hasn’t been on a date in more than 70 years. He did take your coat but forgot to pull your chair out for you, the hostess beat him to it. In his anxiety he had already knocked down a fork and cringed so hard he was sure you noticed.

He was going picking at his brain to find something to talk about. This was your first date. He had to make a good impression.

“So... what are your dreams?”, not the best start but he could still recover.

You tilted your head at him giving him a small laugh. “Just the normal things, I guess. To have a successful career... to be happy. What are your dreams?”

“I... well I’m not so sure anymore. I used to want the simple typical things. But then I became Captain America...can’t exactly have that now”,

Maybe he shouldn’t have started with something so heavy so early on. When he became Captain America his life didn’t belong to him anymore. That alone would be more than enough to scare you off.

“That doesn’t mean you can’t still want those things”, you said lightly shrugging “Why did you? Become Captain America, I mean you’re great at it. But it must be a huge responsibility” you asked as the server placed your food in front of you and filled your glass with wine.

“I’ve just never liked bullies”, he started as soon as the server left “being Cap gave me a chance to fight them”

“That’s ironic. Considering America is the probably biggest bully in the world”, you said with a humorless laugh.

Glumness settled over his face. He nodded at you. He had hoped that 70 years would bring about positive changes in the world. While things were better than before they weren’t nearly as good as he wanted them to be.

“It’s a good thing though. You and your superhero friends can keep the country and the world in check”, you said giving him a cheeky smile stuffing the pasta in your mouth. He returned your smile digging into his food.

As the conversation flowed he found himself relaxing and settling down. It didn’t feel like he had only known you for two weeks, not from how comfortable he felt with you. Talking to you. Holding your hand for a few seconds here and there.

After dessert he drove you back to your home. Walking you to your doorstep something caught his eye at the many mailboxes that aligned the wall.

You looked at the mailbox he was staring at. “That’s my Anna’s married name” You looked back at him. “My sister”, you continued still staring at his confused face.

He gave you a small nod “I work with someone called Rumlow”

“Probably a coincidence”

“Yeah. Thanks for keeping me company tonight doll” As much as he didn’t want the night to end. He had to leave just so he could see you again. Preferably sooner rather than later.

“Doll?”, you asked frowning

“You don’t like it?”, he asked nervously. He still wasn’t sure what was considered appropriate. Everyone told him different things.

“I... well I like my name”, you averted your gaze looking at the tiles on the floor. “Thank you so much for today though. I had fun. Can we do it again?”

“Yes!” He gushed instantly “When are you free I’ll call you or text you?”

You nodded at him playing with the buttons on his shirt before slowly stroking the lapel of his blazer looking up at him with a pout.

Steve maybe clueless when it comes to women but he wasn’t an idiot. He took the hint leaning down to meet you in the middle as you stood on your tippy toes. He lightly pressed his lips to yours.

He had planned to keep it chaste and modest, he was a gentleman after all, but then you slipped your tongue into his mouth and threw your arms around his neck pulling closer to you. There was no holding back now. He slid his hands to your waist and hoisted you off the the ground. Up in the air a few inches to match his heights.

You smiled into the kiss. Stifling your giggle so you didn’t have to break the kiss. Feeling completely pampered and spoiled. He put you down on the ground putting his hands in pockets of his dress or he’d to tempted to steal another kiss.

“Good night” You breathed out after a couple of moments of just staring at each other.

“Good night” He almost called you doll again but stopped himself. Choosing to just say your name. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, he couldn’t help it. And left. Already excited to see you again as soon as possible.

[loveafterthefact]

Love After the Fact Chapter 61: In the Company of Blades

In which Keith has friends, Lance gets to show off, and Shiro wants Adam to step on him

First  Previous  Next

“Anyway, that’s where we are right now. One thing at a time, and I will come up with a meal plan, just in case,” Thace says. They’re rushing through hallways to get to the training yards.

“Thanks.” Keith twists his hair into a large knot on the back of his head, keeping it in place with a pin. “And thanks for the pin.”

“No problem. I just hope you don’t get impaled through your skull.”

“Hasn’t happened yet. Miraculously. We are very late.” Which means probing questions from one Altean, and a probing stare from another. One, Keith can’t say no to -because he’s soft- and the other, Keith is too scared to lie to.

“Fortunately, it’s easy to blame your health. So long as we can keep Lance’s mouth shut.”

“Right...” Keith is about to explain, but Thace's exasperated groan tells him he doesn't have to.

The training grounds are divided into a series of yards, with walls erected for privacy and so no one takes up too much space. Some are large, some small, some flat, some full of obstacles and ground cover, climbing walls, chasms, even stands of trees. There are even places to practice elk-riding, a means of preserving the ancient history of the mounted warriors of old. The Marmora have more respect for tradition than one might think.

When Thace and Keith arrive, they’re beholden to quite the spectacle. Adam, wielding a polearm, squaring off with one of Kolivan’s two kits, Antok. Regris, his other kit, is standing next to his father. Both are grown, but were raised by the Blades, and remain quite close to their sire.

Regris apparently got the good end of the stick, because Antok is getting his ass kicked by the smaller Altean. Adam’s polearm is indeed double-ended, this one equipped with glaives, which he’s currently using to repel Antok. The Altean is also wearing gauntlets with small blades attached, good for slashing throats if an enemy gets too close. Keith imagines that they also discourage grappling.

It’s strange, but Keith has never once in his life thought of Adam as a warrior. He’s always the behind-the-scenes man, and battle tends to be so upfront and personal. Seems Keith was wrong, because Adam is good. He’s fast, too, keeping up with Antok’s limbs, which includes an incredibly mobile tail.

Shiro seems to be enjoying the view, watching the fierce-eyed Altean swing his polearm like it’s a toothpick. A very long, dangerous toothpick. “That’s literally the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Gross.” Keith shoves his brother away.

“I want him to impale me,” the larger Galra sighs.

“You’re a pervert.”

“I concur with Keith,” Thace murmurs.

“Yeah? Well neither of you gets an opinion because you were both late.”

“Health thing,” Keith murmurs. “Where’s Lance?”

“Three yards down, showing off his marksmanship skills. Are you okay? Is something wrong?”

“Nothing at all,” Keith murmurs. “I just had a few questions.”

“Ah.” Shiro shifts awkwardly. They’re still a bit uncomfortable, despite putting their disagreement behind them, and being otherwise normal with each other. “Listen.”

The fact that Shiro bothers to turn away from Adam’s totally-not-an-exhibition is a contributing factor as to why Keith actually does choose to listen to his brother’s opinion.

“I’m here for you. No matter what. Know that.”

Keith smiles. That sounds like his brother. “ I know. Thanks. I’ll let you know if I need you. Or Lance will let you know because I refuse to ask you for help.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Adam finally manages to disarm Antok, spinning his polearm and holding it behind his back.

“Well, Remind me never to push Adam over the edge. I’m gonna go see what Lance is up to.”

“You do that,” Shiro murmurs. “I’m gonna go find a deserted hallway and bring your attendant with me.”

“Have fun. Pervert.”

“I will, thanks.”

Rolling his eyes, Keith trots over to the other field, curious to see what Lance has got up to. Thace hurries right behind him, scanning the facility. “Where the fuck is my mate?”

“Who cares about your mate? Where’s- mine…”

As it turns out, Keith’s mate is firing arrows from the back of a galloping elk. And every shot is perfect. He’s also shirtless, which is really great, but kind of gross because he’s doing that weird ‘sweating’ thing that Alteans do, where they get all wet and slippery. Why can’t they just pant to cool off like a normal species?

But whatever. It’s still incredibly impressive. Especially since the targets, little floating spheres, are both moving and firing at him. And it’s nice to see Lance in his element. He’s got a borrowed bow in one hand, a couple arrows between the fingers of the other, another between his grinning teeth.

“Good to know your chosen mate isn’t entirely useless,” a gruff voice murmurs from behind. Kolivan’s followed them from the other field. “Wasn’t sure about him when Shirogane came back with a report on his swordsmanship. He’s actually an incredible shot.”

“Yeah, he’s pretty great.”

The only thing better is the way Lance’s face brightens when they make eye contact. He removes the arrow from his mouth. “Hey, beloved! See something you like?”

“Hm. Not sure. You should go around again so I can decide.” Keith’s smirk morphs into a grin. “I take it you're enjoying yourself?”

“I am kicking ass! This is so much fun! Can’t believe I’ve never tried this before! Also, this is Bruna, and I love her.”

Keith smiles as Lance hangs his bow from the elk’s saddle, stroking the doe’s soft, red fur. “You know she’s carnivorous, right?”

“All close friends have their points of contention, and admittedly her terrifying teeth are… one of those things, but she’s also loyal, and fast, and very sweet.”

Keith eyes the elk skeptically, gaze lingering on her four sharpened antlers crowning her head and the filed horns protruding from her face. “This sharp, vicious creature is your friend?”

“Bruna will be loved and adored by yours truly all the days of her life.”

“Okay. Good luck convincing your father to let you bring her home.”

“Oh, I don’t have to convince either of my parents of anything. I just have to convince you.”

Keith stares down the hopeful look in his ridiculous elk-loving husband’s face. He’s thoroughly unmoved by those large, pleading, blue-and-pink eyes. Completely unswayed… Except… “If you’re getting one, I should get one too. It will give us an excuse to spend time together without being buried in tablets.”

“See, this is why I love you.”

“I love you too. Now shoot some more arrows so I can watch.”

“Okay, should I put my shirt back on, or-”

“No, it’s fine.” A sly smile. “You can keep it off if you like.”

Lance quirks an eyebrow before lifting his bow again -Does he have to show off that he can ride with no hands?- and preparing to continue his practice.

“When you’re done flirting,” Kolivan mutters. “Your mother is waiting to kick your ass.”

“Yeah, okay.” Keith looks around. “Where did Thace go?”

“I dunno. Probably to stick his tongue in Ulaz’ mouth.” Kolivan sighs, leading him to yet another training room. “I’d been counting on you to be the only one of these idiots to keep it in their pants.”

“What about your sons?”

“Pfft. Found mates while you were gone. They’re always… visiting.”

“Gross… Well, I promise never to visit you.”

The Galra chuckle. Kolivan never really has a lot to say, but what he does have to say is either incredibly serious or mildly amusing. He’s an acquired taste. One that Keith has acquired in order to survive. Kolivan’s also his mother’s closest companion, so he insists on their getting along, despite what one might call ‘creative differences’ when it comes to leadership roles.

Essentially, Kolivan’s an unapologetic, amazingly blunt asshole and Keith tries his best to be more… constructive.

“It’s about time you showed up.”

“Hey, Mom. Sorry. I stopped by the med ward.”

“Okay.” She goes easily, drawing her sword. “But don’t expect me to go easy on you.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

That’s what Keith loves about his mother: the understanding. For only having known each other for two years, they share so much: a loss, a condition, a passion for the personal freedoms that their rulers restrict until they can barely breathe.

But Keith and his mother find a way. They dig their roots into unwelcoming ground. They learn to thrive. They draw breath.

And swords. Krolia has Keith panting in minutes, forcing him to the brink of his skills. He really is out of shape, but he’s missed this. He’s missed this challenge, this push, this direct, up-front, physical confrontation where no one is screaming, or complaining, and there’s no stack of work staring at him from behind another stack of work. Just him, trying his damndest to beat the crap out of someone who can actually match with him.

And, surprisingly, he’s doing well. His stamina and strength have taken a hit, but he’s picked up forms and techniques on Altea that give him an edge.

The Galra know how an Altean fights, but Keith knows how they think, why they make the choices they do. Their aim isn’t disarming or killing an enemy. A Galra's aim is to defeat the enemy, to beat them into submission until the ground beneath thier boots is painted red. An Altean’s aim is to make it past the enemy toward a larger goal, and do it as quickly and efficiently as possible.

Krolia isn’t his enemy. She’s just in the way. So, dodging a slash of Krolia’s sword, Keith slips past his mother, elbowing her in the kidney as he darts past. Krolia doesn’t flinch, even as she turns to stare at her son, but nobody can fully brush off a hit to the kidney, and she lowers her sword, panting her way through the pain since she has the option.

“What was that?” she asks.

“I applied a different philosophy. In a mission, you wouldn’t be my target, and I saw no reason to waste my time dispatching you.” Keith shrugs. “Why bother?”

“Because I could have gathered information on you-”

“You didn’t. In this scenario, you, an unnamed, random assailant, are not worth killing, and I have a different mission.”

“And what might that mission be?”

“I…” Keith pauses. “I hadn’t thought that far. I just wanted to show off.”

“Clearly.” Krolia looks her son up and down, amused. “I don’t understand, but you seem to think you’ve achieved something, so-”

“HA!!!”

“AHhhhhh!!!”

“-So what the fuck was that?” Krolia growls, adjusting her grip on her sword.

“I’m not sure, but that was Lance and Adam, so something’s probably being destroyed.” Keith sighs, heading back to Lance’s field. “Welcome to my life.”

Lance is indeed messing around with Adam, wielding a broadsword with an adequate amount of skill -a miracle, honestly, and one courtesy of Keith- while Adam comes at him with his polearm.

From behind the fighting idiots, Shiro grins at him, notching his head at Lance. Keith presses his lips together to hide his smile, ducking his head. He knows he’s doing a good job, but to have someone else say it means a lot.

“I thought you said he didn’t have any skills,” Krolia murmurs, watching the Alteans go back and forth.

“That’s what I thought.” Keith lifts his gaze back to his chosen mate, the glint in his eyes as he experiments with the sword in his hand, figuring out how to make it more effective against Adam’s chosen weapon. “But I was wrong. He just needed some more one-on-one coaching. He’s typically quite capable on his own, but always better when he’s working with others. He’s a people person.”

“That is one of the many, many reasons I don’t understand why you love that little creature,” Krolia murmurs.

“He’s a good buffer. He does all the talking, and I just stand there and look pretty.”

That’s not entirely true, less so as time goes on, but for some reason, Keith doesn’t want to share all that much about his life on Altea. It almost feels too personal, like he’s not ready to share his experiences with anyone yet.

“Hm, I’d think looking pretty would be his job,” Thace teases, clinging to Ulaz’ waist. Ulaz himself only nods, a more quiet kind of friendly than his mate, but friendly all the same. His fondness for Keith is indicated by a softened eyebrow, rather than a smile.

“No, but he does it exceptionally well.”

The corner of Ulaz’ mouth quirks. “Perhaps you can both come over to our place tomorrow and look pretty around our table. The kits want to see you, Mashan in particular. Besides, the hunting party returns tomorrow. A little lizard told me that they slew a pack of vakalt. Herdsmen are coming up, too. We can celebrate together, maybe put a few of them up at our den for the night. Get in a few good stories. Also, be forewarned, Lotor wants to speak to Lance outside the castle, so he may 'spontaneously decide to visit'.”

Keith nods. He watches Lance and Adam spar, glancing to his littermate across the yard. So far, his companions have been more than agreeable concerning the Galra way of life. Lance, at least, will enjoy the experience, and Adam will enjoy a chance to crawl all over Shiro. Maybe he’ll even be able to drag Pidge out of their closet. It’ll be nice.

“Sure. We’ll come.” Keith smiles. “Thanks for the invite.”

“Nonsense!” Thace claps him on the shoulder. “You’ll always be one of us, Keith, and you’re always welcome in our home. You, and that Altean of yours.”

“Thanks, guys. I really appreciate that.”

He does. He’s glad that he still has a place here, even if it’s no longer his only home.

[writershapeholeonthedoor]

It’s Cold Outside - Supercorp

Read at AO3

I.

They're at Kara's apartment the first time something of the kind happens. Lena is sitting at the couch, a popcorn bowl between her legs and the remote in the other while she waits for her friend to get back from wherever she decided to go in the middle of The Princess Diary. When Kara waltz back into the room, she's holding a fluffy blanket that she promptly puts carefully on top of Lena's legs.

"In case you get cold." She offers as an explanation when Lena quirks one eyebrow at her. Then, she shruggs and grabs the bowl from her friend's lap and throws herself back in the couch, and she looks too adorable with a mouth full of popcorn to Lena to think about anything else.

Later, when she pulls the blanket to her chin, Kara beams at her like a puppy.

II.

Kara took the sucess of the first time as a signal that she could tell when Lena was cold or was about to get cold. Her friend did, in the end, used the blanket she had provided her. Kara herself couldn't get cold and it was hard for her to understand the limits of the human body when it came to temperatures, so she was proud of herself for realizing her friend might get chilly inside her apartment, despite the fact that she turned the heater on before Lena got there.

Maybe she needed to learn more about the heater and the ideal temperature for humans.

And maybe Lena only used the blanket because it smelled like Kara.

In any case, Kara was glad her efforts had proven to be right. So when, one day, they're having lunch together outside CatCo and a cold breeze hit them, Kara is jumping to her feet imediatly, putting her potsickers down. She took her jacket out and put it on Lena’s shoulders before the CEO could even understand what was going on – to be honest, it was quite hard for her not to use her superspeed in that moment.

“Kara!” Lena gasped, already trying to shrug it off, but Kara just put it back in place. “There’s no need for that, really!”

“Of course there is!” Kara protested with a frown. “You shivered just now.”

Lena blushed a little. “Serves me right for forgetting my own jacket.” She mumbled, before shaking her head and trying to take the jacket off again. “But you’re going to get cold, Kara.”

“I won’t!” The blonde promissed eagerly. “I pinky promise if you want! I’m fine, not cold at all!”

The CEO looked at her a little suspicious for a couple of seconds. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely!” Kara set back down, already grabbing her precious potsickers. “Besides, Jess is going to kill me if I let you get sick.”

Lena rolled her eyes as she slid her arms inside the jacket. “If you say so, but you can’t take it back. If you get cold, that’s your own fault.”

Kara laughed happily. “I won’t, don’t worry. If it happens, I will just hug you.”

They both decided to ignore each other’s blushed cheeks.

III.

L Corp’s air-conditioning system was in maintenance the next time. They were having lunch on Lena’s office and Kara just got up from her comfortable place in the couch to close the door that lead to the balcony, before grabbing Lena’s suit to bring it to her. Kara herself was using a blouse and a skirt, so she really didn’t had nothing with her that would Lena feel less cold, so she had to improvise.

Lena, who was in the middle of answering some urgent mail on her phone, looked up slightly startled when the weight of her red suit hit her back gently. Kara gave her a warm gentle smile before sitting back in her spot to finish her Burger.

“You know, I don’t know why you insist in ordering that salad, but I will guess it will only taste worse if you take much longer to eat it.” Kara teased as she took a large bite from her own lunch.

The CEO looked down at her barely touched salad, then back at Kara, then she rolled her shoulders, trying to make the suit more comfortable to wear without actually putting it on. She didn’t had it in her heart to tell Kara she wasn’t cold, especially after her friend had put her food down to go grab it for her.

Instead, she put her phone down, grabbed her plastic fork and took a kale out of her plate. If Kara noticed she was blushing, she didn’t said a thing.

IV.

“I can’t believe you convinced me to do it.” Lena shook her head in disbelief, a soft amazed laugh leaving her red lips.

Kara, who was basically jumping instead of walking alongside with her, gave her one of those capable-of-end-wars smiles of hers. “Walking is better to clean our head than drinking.” She recited for the third time that night.

Lena and her had a movies night planned for that friday, but the CEO was so worked up because of her job and because Lilian had get back from the ashes out of nowhere, that all she wanted to do was curl in a ball and drink her stock of whisky and wine. Of course Kara could never let her do that, so she somehow convinced Lena to take a walk with her around the block. Lena was going to pretend that she didn’t totally gave in because her friend started pouting at her and that made her heart flutter in a weird way.

“Yes, well, I can walk now and drink later.” Lena half joked. She had her arms crossed since they left her penthouse and she was keeping her eyes down most of the time, frowning at her feet.

In her defence, Kara did told her to grab other shoes, but the CEO had glared at her while slipping back her heels, so she just bit her lip and lead the way outside. They had walked in silence for about two minutes before Kara started rambling about her day and slowly Lena started relaxing. While listening to her friend strumble on her own words as she tried to decide what she needed to say first – while constantly interrupting herself and tripping in her words – Lena started feeling like all of her problems meant nothing.

She knew they did, she knew once Kara was gone her mind would instantly start worrying again, but, for now, Lena was going to allow herself to get lost in the blonde’s presence.

Lena was so absorbed in her thoughts that she actually jumped a little when she felt something touching her hair. She looked to the side with wide eyes, but relaxed when all she saw was Kara looking at her with a raised eyebrow and a amusing smile.

“Calm down, Lee, it’s just me.” Kara made a stop, causing Lena to do the same, and they faced each other. It was only then that Lena realized Kara was holding out her scarf, folded in half, ready to put the red thing around her neck. “Come here.”

Lena shook her head. “You made me put my coat before we left, Kar.”

The reporter looked at her like she was crazy. “But it’s cold.”

“Kara...” Lena flipped her tongue over her bottom lip and sighed. “I’m fine, you can keep your scarf.”

And suddenly she was looking at a kicked puppy. Kara’s whole body deflated, her smile faltered and her hands dropped. It took Lena less than a second to change her mind after seeing her friend looking so sad.

“But I guess it is a little cold, and your coat is warmer than mine.” That was a lie. Kara was barely wearing a coat, but the smile she gave Lena after she registered her answer was totally worth the white lie.

Kara was putting the scarf around her neck before she could blink. Lena ducked her neck to make it easier for her and, when she looked up again, the blonde used the tips of the scarf to pull her closer. For a panicking second she thought Kara was actually going to kiss her, but then the blonde placed a sweet kiss on her forehead and started walking again.

Lena was blushing too hard to say it was only because of the slightly cold breeze.

V.

“What on Earth are you wearing?!” Alex didn’t hide her surprise or her disgust while pointing at Lena with a frown. She had just walked inside Kara’s apartment for their movie night, carrying bags of food and kicking off her shoes.

Lena looked down at her clothes and arched one eyebrow. “What? What’s the problem?”

She saw Kara rolling her eyes while making her way back to her living room after putting the food Alex had brought with her in the kitchen. “Alex doesn’t like my sweater.”

The agent arched one eyebrow at her little sister. “It’s a fucking ugly sweater, Kara.”

Frowning even harder, Lena looked at the sweater she was wearing again, pulling it away from her torso for a second to give it a proper look. Then, pursing her lips, she shrugged. “I like it.”

Kara beamed at her like she had just offered her a life time supply of potsickers, while Alex gaped like it was the most offending thing she had ever heard. It was kind of comical to see both sister turn to look at each other at the exact same time, but with such diffent reactions.

“A-ha!” Kara exclaimed while pointing a finger at Alex. “See!”

Alex rolled her eyes. “She’s not using her glasses, that’s why.” She tried to shrug it off, but Kara wasn’t having it.

“No, no, it’s a good sweater, right, Lena?”

The CEO looked between them for a couple of seconds, but decided not to answer at it. It made Alex scoff. “Why are you even wearing that? It’s fucking hot in here, you should open a window or something, Kara.”

Kara looked really confused, so Lena jumped in before she could start wondering about it too much. “I was a little cold.”

It wasn’t a lie. Lena was cold when she first walked in, for some reason, but she wasn’t expecting Kara to go so out of border when she said that to her. Her friend literally closed every single window in her apartment and brought her not only the dinosaur sweater she was currently wearing, but also two blankets that were currently on her couch.

“Was that the only thing you had?” Alex scoffed again, but she appeared to let the subjetct drop as she moved to take her own jacket.

Later that night, while waiting for her driver to show up, Lena had tried to give back the sweater for Kara, but the blonde wasn’t having it. She insisted Lena should use it until she got home, to avoid getting cold in the way, she had said. The CEO tried not to, but it was too good of an oportunity to let it go, so she schedule a lunch for them for the next day so she could “give her back the sweater” and definitely not because she wanted to see Kara again.

VI.

Lena had lost track of how many times Supergirl had saved her by now. Another attempt of kidnapp that the superhero had saved her from. Another try of her mother to get rid off her. Didn’t she had the best family ever?

Now they were outside the building they had tried to lock her in, cops, firefighters, agents and reporters where surrounding her. She was lucky enough that Maggie was in service that night so the latina had took her statment and was able to stick around with her while the paramedics tried to check her vitals, before Lena send them away. She liked Maggie, even if the woman did arrest her once. She had a great humor and wasn’t afraid of talking with her like everyone else.

Alex was also around, she saw the woman at some point, yelling orders and talking with Supergirl, but her main job was trying to keep the curious away, for which Lena was also greatful for. After shooing the paramedics away, Lena seated in the back of the ambulance and Maggie stood in front of her, blocking the cameras from taking pictures of her, hands stuffed inside the pockets of her slightly large jacket.

“Do you have a life insurance?”

Lena thought the question was a little too weird, but then she identified the teasing behind Maggie’s tone, and scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I even have my will all written down.” She joked back, looking down at her broken heels. In her attempt of running from her captors, she had broken both heels and ripped her suit, but at least she wasn’t physically harmed at all.

“Ms. Luthor!” They both turned their head to look at Supergirl, who had approached the ambulance with wide eyes and a sence of urgence that Lena had never saw on her. “Are you ok?”

Lena actually grinned a little. “You already asked me that about three times, Supergirl.” She teased.

Maggie snorted and took a step back. “I guess you’re in good hands for a couple of minutes. I will kick the reporters away so your driver can get through.” She patted Supergirl’s shoulder as she walked away from them.

The hero smiled at her once they were alone. “Do you mind?” She pointed at the small spot beside Lena in the back of the ambulance and the CEO nodded.

Lena slipped to the side to give her more room and Supergirl happily jumped to sit by her side, looking like an excited child for a second. The brunette giggled at that, making the hero laugh too. Supergirl bumped their shoulders gently and Lena moved more out of instinct then the strenght behind the move.

“You didn’t answered me.” Supergirl said.

Lena sighed, looking up at the sky for a while. There was no stars in the sky, the moon was almost entirely hidden behind the clouds and there was a cold breeze swinging the leaves at the trees that could only mean it was going to rain at some point that night. She sighed again, thinking about her favoutire whiskey and her bed, and almost jumped away when she felt something touching her shoulder.

She turned her head to look at the hero, too shocked, and saw that the blonde alien was smiling gently at her. Lena hesitated for a few seconds, before allowing her body to relax and lean against Supergirl. Smiling pleased with herself, Supergirl threw one arm around her shoulders, bringing her cape with her, efficiently using it as a blanket for Lena.

The CEO allowed herself to smile a little at the gesture, especially when she realized how warm the red cape actually was. The cold breeze couldn’t get through her anymore and the fabric was much softier than she expected.

Maggie found them five minutes later and it broke her heart to interrupt. Lena fell asleep with her head in Kara’s shoulder and the blonde was resting her head on top of hers with the silliest smile the detective had ever saw on her face.

VII.

“Good evening, Supergirl.” Lena greeted with a soft voice and a shy smile.

The hero, who had just landed on her balcony, smiled at her. “Ms. Luthor. I thought I would stop by to see how are you feeling after last night.”

Lena shrugged. “I’m good. You saved me before anything could happen.”

“Well, it’s only my job.” Supergirl was about to say something else, but imediatly shut her mouth when she saw Lena running her hands up and down her arms in a weak attempt to warm herself. “Are you cold?”

Lena chuckled lowly. “It’s ok, I’m fine.”

Supergirl frowned at her, then looked over her shoulder to her penthouse. “Maybe you should get inside to warm up.”

That actually made the brunette laugh openly. She shook her head fondly and looked at the night sky. The stars, just like the other night, were gone, but she could see the moon this time. “What’s your thing with me being cold, Kara?”

Lena turned her head just in time to see the surprise flash across Supergirl’s face before she could hide it behind her mask. “I don’t understand what you’re talking, Ms. Luthor.”

The urge to roll her eyes was stronger than her, but Lena did tried to look away while doing it. “I already figured it out, Kara, you don’t have to hide it anymore.”

There was an uncomfortable silence that followed her statment and, for a second, Lena thought her friend was only going to fly away and pretend that talk never happened, but then Kara’s shoulders dropped and she sighed. “What gave me away?”

Lena smiled at her, which made the hero relax a little. “You kept me warm last night.”

It was true. After Maggie informed them that Lena’s driver was just driving around the block to come get her, Kara, as Supergirl, had just jumped from the back of the ambulance while taking her cape off completely. She made sure it was around Lena’s body, before nodding once. “I will grab it later.” She informed when Lena tried to give it back to her.

Kara actually blushed a little to that. “I’m sorry I didn’t told you before.”

“I’m sure you had your reasons.” Lena whispered softly. “Just, please, tell it isn’t because of who I am. If it’s because I didn’t gave you reasons to trust me or something like that, I get it, but if it’s only because I’m a Luthor...”

“No, of course not!” Kara took a urgent step foward and her hands raised like she was about to grab Lena’s shoulders, but she stoped herself in the last minute and her arms dropped to her sides. “I was scared something bad was going to happen to you. A lot of people got hurt because they know my secret, I didn’t wanted you to be one of them or to be near that type of danger.” A shy amused grin made it’s way to her lips and Lena quirked one eyebrow at her friend. “To be honest, you’re already a magnet for danger, maybe adding to it wouldn’t make any good.”

“So you were only trying to protect me?” Lena shivered again, less because of the cold night air and more because the look Kara was giving her was almost too much to bear.

Kara’s face lighted up with one of her beautiful smiles and she opened her arms, the edges of her cape being held by her fingers, making it look way bigger like that. Lena understood the invitation and promptly walked inside her personal space, circling her arms around Kara’s waist as the blonde hugged her. They stayed like that, curled into each other, wrapped by Supergirl’s cape as a blanket, in silence for a couple of seconds.

Kara broke the silence with a soft voice. “I will always protect you, Lena.” She promissed and placed a lovingly kiss on top of the CEO’s head. “And I will keep you warm, too.” She teased.

Lena raised her head from Kara’s shoulder to look at her, eyes bright and a little scared. “Kara, I...” She stoped to take a deep breath and gather her courage, but she didn’t have to.

Kara leaned over and placed a kiss on her lips. It was brief, lovely and warm, but it held so much meaning that Lena thought that she was going to pass out for a second. When she opened her eyes again, the blonde was already looking at her. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but...” Kara sighed happily. “I’m not the only who can feel something between us.”

“What took you so long to act on it?” Lena decided to ignore her own hypocrisy.

“It wasn’t fair to say something when you didn’t know the whole true.” Kara hesitated for a second, but then her goofy smile appeared. “And also I wasn’t sure you were flirting with me or just being you. And also because I was too scared to say something. And also because you’re feeling really good against me right now and it just looked like the right time. And also...”

“I think I get it.” Lena interrupted her with an eye roll.

Kara chuckled and leaned to kiss her again. Once again, it was sweet and fast, but it left Lena’s lipst tingling. “You should get inside, is kinda cold outside.”

“Yes.” Lena agreeded, before hugging Kara tighter into her. She rested her head on the woman’s shoulder again and sighed gladly, closing her eyes. “But I’m warm right now.”

[lucadina]

Enigma Girl

Rating: T

Pairing: Eren x Annie

You can also read this on FFN!

Annie Leonhart is an enigma.

Eren can never tell what's on her mind. He assumes, however, that there is a an albatross of a secret lurking behind those bright, blue eyes of hers. He catches glimpses here and there of a secret self when life brims on her usually cold features as she connects the sharp bone of her shin to his shoulder.

He'd fall to the ground, bolts of pain shooting up his back, and yet it all dissipates because of her. For when he looks up, he sees the numbing sight of an Annie who looks alive. Her skin tinged pink with heat and sweat, pupils blown wide with adrenaline— alive, full of giddy pride, irrefutably human.

Before he realises it, he chases after that Annie. And it's almost as though she's picked up on his intrigue, as she's begun avoiding him since he's made that one (failed) attempt for her mouth.

Annie keeps her distance because she knows that he can't.

Today, the sun is scorching hot and cloudless skies are heavy on the trainees' shoulders. It's hard to keep one's head up, but they all do so because anything less will incite a verbal beating from Satan's stepbrother, Keith Shadis. That, or the devil's students are driven by a formidable sense of duty that remains unshakable even in the most uncomfortable weather conditions — the latter is precisely why Eren looks forward to the next couple of hours of hand-to-hand combat training while the majority pray silently for respite.

'Find a partner!' Shadis barks. The cadets scramble to do so.

Well, most of them do.

Annie doesn't.

Amidst the jumble of a dispersing crowd, her lithe, unsuspecting frame easily slips away, unnoticed by all with the exception of Eren Yeager. He catches her from his peripheral, and has the bad sense to follow her into the forest. Considering that unlike Annie, he sticks out like a sore thumb, he strategically walks behind Shadis' field of vision as he beelines for the trees. He catches up to her by the riverside, where she's staring off into the water, her back to him.

Though he cannot see her face, he imagines it to be peaceful. For a second, he envies the river.

'Hey, Annie!' he calls out, she whips around and glares - he doesn't give a shit, 'You promised that you'd teach me that move from yesterday!'

'Go away, Yeager. You're robbing me of my alone-time.'

'Right, uh-huh— you're always alone, Annie.'

She says nothing, but places her hands on her waist and cocks her hip to the side as if to say so what?

'Come on, Annie. Would it kill you to just... give me some of this?'

'Some of what?'

'Your time.'

'What on earth do you want to do with that?' she presses her back up against a tree, folds her arms, and raises her brows at him, 'Is there something you want from me other than a good beating? Cause if it's a kiss you want, thought I made it clear last time that you're not getting one.'

'No, I just—' his jaw hangs ajar, half-formed words choking to a halt in his throat. He hadn't expected her to put him on the spot like that because frankly, he finds himself creepy for wanting to dig into her soul. Eventually, he regains some semblance of composure, albeit his voice is softer than the shaky breath he takes in to steel himself, 'We're comrades. I have fun with you. Spending time together... isn't that what friends do?'

Preposterous; it nearly gets her to crack a smile— but alright, his insistence has piqued her interest and she's willing to bite for now, 'Eren, we literally do nothing except beat the shit out of each other. We're not friends, not even close.'

'Well, that's your fault!' he fumes, 'I've tried to sit with you for dinner, just for you to stand up and leave-'

'I don't like the murderous look your bodyguard shoots me.'

'I try to talk to you outside of training-'

'I don't talk, period.'

'And when I try to take breaks during hand-to-hand combat to maybe have a conversation, you shut me down by pummelling me to the ground!' he bellows the last phrase, prompting Annie to fist the fabric of his uniform jacket and pull him down. Before he can protest, her hand is already on his mouth. She nudges his kneecap with a thigh, throwing him off-balance so that he topples backwards onto the grass on his ass. She goes limp, allowing herself to go with the motions. Then she's on top of him, palming his shoulders to lift herself up, levelling her eyes to his.

Eren squirms. Man, she's a cunt. It's fucking hot today.

'You have fun when we spar?' Annie has that look on her face again, as though she were looking at something— at someone — too stupid to exist, 'When my father taught me my moves, it was anything but fun,' she leans in, presses her lips against the junction of his jaw and ear, and he shudders involuntarily when she speaks again, 'Not a day of rest, from sunrise to sundown, every damn day— absolute obedience,' her voice drops to a whisper, 'Once... I wanted to kill him.'

'Did you?'

Annie's hands travel to the back of her his head, cold fingers entwining with his coffee locks, 'No.'

He sighs, relieved, letting out a breath he wasn't aware he'd been holding in, 'Then-'

'I settled for crushing his left leg.'

By the way the whole of his body tenses beneath her, she's become conscious of the dark lick she's just sent up his spine. With a wicked half-grin, she tugs at his hair lightly, tilting him as she moves her lips to the pulsating vein of his neck. His breathing turns ragged. She inhales the scent of his skin, faintly smelling of bread (it was his turn in the kitchen that morning) and holiday wood.

'What are you doing?'

'Making friends,' she smiles into his pulse.

He can feel her teeth on him.

She's all teeth, and yet he chooses to lean in.

His own hands, which have been supporting his (their) weight on the ground at his sides, begin to ache. He moves one, to the dip of her waist, up the contour of her torso, winding up with her hair-bun in its grasp. She stiffens, but says nothing. A moment passes, then he tugs hard, whipping her head back so she's forced to stare into his blazingly verdant eyes, brighter and wilder than the overgrown green of the forest around them. He is a fire no one can put out, a bursting line of flames searing her. He is unrelenting, and he won't stop until he burns with her, until he unearths the Pandora's box that she keeps under lock and key.

He feels her go taut, sees her eyes go empty— she's retreating into the labyrinth of her mind, as far away from him as possible.

In a desperate attempt to reel her back in, he asks that one burning question, 'What's your secret, Annie?'

'If I tell you, then it's not much of a secret, is it?'

'Ah-hah, so you are hiding something.'

'We all have our secrets, Yeager,' she digs her nails into his scalp, dragging out a low hiss from him, 'Mine stay buried, until I follow them straight to the grave. Maybe the day you know me— the real me — is the day you bury me.'

His heart is hammering against his chest. He lets her hair go, trails his long fingers around to caress a pale cheek, which he cups with surprising tenderness, 'What if...'

'What?'

'What if I don't want to bury you?'

Comfort is foreign to her. Nevertheless, she welcomes the warm prickle where her heart should be. He makes her want to smile again; this naive, passionate boy is making her smile. It's unbecoming of a warrior. Despite knowing all this, she tilts her face to kiss his wrist, 'You will. You'll want to.'

'You're wrong.' I'd never do that, not to you. Annie is unmoving, her lips linger on his skin in what can only be described as a display of affection - so unlike her. It fascinates him, the thrilling puzzle that is Annie Leonhart. He smirks, 'Thought you said I'd never get a kiss from you.'

'Ah...' her eyes fly to him, almost fearful, like she's just made a grave mistake, though her gaze is careful, effervescent with specks of ice foiling beneath the sweltering sunlight, 'But it's not the kiss you want, is it?'

'You don't know what I want.'

'So enlighten me.'

His heart jumps up, pounding against the constricting walls of his throat. Thankfully, he's always been a brave one; the hand he has on her cheek slides to the underside of her jaw, sloping so that she's angled to look up at him. Beneath his fingers, he feels her heart beating faster than normal, and he turns light-headed at the thought that he's done that to her.

'Eren Yeager,' she growls, defensive, fearful, 'What do you want from me?'

'I want to learn how to talk to girls,' he pauses when she fails to react, which he takes as permission to confess, 'I want to learn how to talk to you.'

Annie smiles sadly.

She's beautiful when the frost of her eyes melts to expose the truth she tries so hard to conceal; she's not a soldier. She's soft and desperate for him, which he's already surmised because he's the only person she gives the time of day to. Even so, she keeps him at arm's length— close enough to taste, not to be touched by. She is a lion, even in her cage, still a lion. He can't get too close. It's her birthright to bite.

Perhaps it is precisely since he's broken this boundary that she raises her hackles just as swiftly as she's bared her spirit.

He's burned her, singed her with the humanity she wishes for.

Annie pulls his head back with so much force, he's convinced it's an attempt to rip his hair clean off his scalp. 'We're done here,' she declares, rising to her feet while he rubs the back of his head, 'Now if there's nothing else, fuck off.'

'Annie.'

'We are not friends.'

He silently agrees. 

[takingcourage]

Additions: Part 3

Pairing: Jaime x MC

Word Count: 5,050

Summary: As the school year begins and tensions mount, Jaime and Arden start to wonder if they might be out of their depth.

Note: This chapter has been fighting me for the past two weeks, probably because it represents the true low point of the story and I hate making these characters suffer. While it’s not going to be completely smooth sailing from here on out, I can assure you that things will be better in Part 4. 

Warning: This section contains references to childhood depression and self-harm. There’s nothing graphic or gratuitous, but the mentions may still be upsetting. Please read at your own discretion.

August, 2027

“You keep spacing out over there. Should I be concerned?”

Smiling coyly, Arden glanced up from her carton of stir fry. Jaime sat across their dining room table, a half-eaten spring roll held between his fingers. It was the first time in days that she’d actually taken a proper look at him, and she was a little disappointed that she couldn’t do more than just look.

In seven years of marriage, his appearance had remained relatively unchanged. His eyes were still thoughtful and kind, his hair thick and just unruly enough to be perfect without him having to try. Maybe it was just his glorious golden tan skewing her perceptions, but she could swear that becoming a father had made him infinitely more attractive.  

Probably just wishful thinking since I don’t have him to myself anymore, she mused, meeting his inquiring eyes with decision. “Can’t I enjoy having a lunch date with my husband?”

His demeanor warmed. “I’ve kind of missed having time for just the two of us.”

“Me too. If these monthly meetings mean getting some of that time back, I’m all for them.”

She knew neither one of them would choose to change their circumstances. Having time together with the kids meant the world to both of them, but it also meant that things were different.

“These days, I feel like I’m lucky to get ten minutes alone with you before we go to bed.” Jaime chewed his last bite of spring roll contemplatively. “And even then, we’re usually talking about the kids.”  

“I know. By the time we make it to our room, we’re so exhausted that there’s usually just enough time to exchange a few sentences before we pass out. It’s not like we have time for a lot of conversation…or anything else.” Arden stretched a leg toward him, gently toeing his bare shin.

His eyebrows raised at the contact, but there was a sparkle of humor in his deep brown eyes. “Maybe we should start having these meetings more often?”

“I’d love to, but with all the projects you have slated for the rest of the year, I don’t think it’s very feasible. But we’ll keep finding ways to spend time together, I’m sure.” With a wink, she straightened back into her seat. “Besides, that’s not what we’re here for now anyway. We’re supposed to be comparing notes and making sure we’re still on the same page about parenting.”

“So we are.” In spite of his jocular tone, she knew he hadn’t forgotten. “All right, getting down to business.” He pulled a notecard from his pocket, unfolded it, and laid it between them on the wooden surface. “Question 1: What are your highs and lows of the first full week of school?”

Arden took a long sip from her glass of water. They’d prepared the questions beforehand, so she’d known exactly what was coming, but it was still difficult to separate the events of the past five days into those two extremes.

The week had been filled with so many little triumphs, from Sophia making band to Alex finally waking up on his own without needing a full half-hour of reminders. But in the end, one stood out.

“I think my high was getting that email from Will’s teacher. He’s a social guy at home, but I was afraid that he might struggle to connect with with kids in class. Hearing that he’s been making friends was really heartening.” Jaime’s lips parted, and she paused to let him speak.

“I especially liked what she said about him seeking out the shy kids during recess. He reminds me a lot of someone I knew when I was about his age…” Jaime’s voice trailed, but he ended the sentiment with a meaningful nod. 

Arden smirked at his suggestion. “Maybe we should pack some ice-cream bars in his lunch?”

“That might not be such a bad idea,” he said with a low laugh. 

Eyes crinkling affectionately, she shook her head and fished out another bite of vegetables. Despite the momentary diversion, she knew they needed to get back to the other half of his question. “Now for the hard part. My low was…Alex’s attitude about school and his refusal to talk about it. I keep hearing his thoughts about how stupid it is, but I can’t ask him anything pointed unless he actually tells me out loud.”

Jaime pinched his entree open with a sigh. “I think that’s probably mine too. He keeps shutting down whenever I try to talk to him about it. I keep hoping it’s just the adjustment period and he’ll find a new routine, but…”

But they both knew his history was discouraging. Though they’d decided long before the kids ever came to live with them that their case files weren’t going to define their expectations, it was impossible not to see the similarities between their own experience and what had come before. 

All three of Alex’s previous foster families had reported problems with managing anger, along with some variety of troubles in school – missing assignments, incomplete tests, refusing to speak in class. Though this year was off to a rough start, they still hoped to finally break the mold. 

“So what do we do moving forward?”

It was hardly the first time they’d posed the question to one another, but brilliant solutions were few and far between. For several seconds, Jaime stared at the wall behind her head, his thoughts indiscernible. “I think we just keep doing what we’ve been doing -- we deescalate when he’s upset and encourage him to talk about what’s bothering him. We have to get through to him eventually.” 

“I just wonder if there’s more going on,” Arden ventured. The half-formed thought had been stewing in her mind for a while. “I think he’s more scared than he is angry.”

“I’ve been getting that sense too. Starting in a new school is tough -- I remember. Maybe I’ll get a chance to talk to him about it soon.”

“It might help,” Arden encouraged. “He might share more if he knew what you’ve been through.”

"I hope so.” His smile returned, clearing the worries from his face. “Anyway, my high was Sophia asking me to help with that question on her homework last night. You were right there, so it’s not like we were alone or anything, but it’s one of the only times she’s initiated conversation with me.”

Arden still remembered the sound of Jaime’s jubilant thoughts as he’d read the problem over Sophia’s shoulder. Even just recalling it to memory sent a fresh wave of shivers over her shoulders. “You’re bonding with our daughter over math homework, Jaime. Who would have thought we’d be saying that a year ago?”

He shook his head with a half smile. “It’s finally starting to feel kind of normal. Not quite there yet, but I feel like we’re really close in a lot of ways.”

“I think so too.”

“And I have to say, I think we’ve been doing a pretty amazing job with them so far.” 

So far. Behind her smile, those two words lingered like a bitter aftertaste. As much as he’d intended them as an encouragement, Arden longed for the day when such compliments no longer came with conditions. 

_____

September, 2027

Arden tossed in a dishwasher tablet, sealed the door, and pressed start. For a moment, she stood in front of the noisy appliance, giving her mind a rest before she could start questioning why the other end of the house was so quiet.

Twenty minutes ago, all three kids had assured her that they were working hard at their studies. For her oldest and youngest, it wasn’t difficult to believe that they were still on task. For Alex, it was a completely different story.

Much as he hated being told what to do, he needed frequent reminders to continue working. The number of times she’d walked in to find him doodling in the margins when he was supposed to be reading was alarming. Thankfully, between the thoughts she overheard and her ability to read his body language, she could typically walk the fine line between motivation and bringing him to the point of anger. 

She’d never seen a child so hostile to any kind of instruction. They were only a month into the school year, but she was already convinced that the child’s teacher must be a literal angel to put up with his stubbornness for so much of the day.

He’s probably drawing again, she determined as her husband’s sure step broke through the after-dinner lull. Coming from the garage, Jaime met her in the hallway, a pair of lightbulbs in his hand.

“Are those for the upstairs bathroom?”

“They are.” He kissed her cheek before poking his head into the empty dining room. “The kids?”

“Alex is in his room. Will’s upstairs with Sophia, working on some vocab. She finished her homework before we ate.”

“Even exponents?”

“She’s got the hang of them now.”

Their daughter’s light tread came tripping down the stairs at that moment, her body a blur as she flew through the hall.

“Looks like she’s keeping both of them on top of their work,” Jaime commented when Sophia disappeared into the boys’ room.

“I should probably check in,” Arden suggested. “Make sure she’s not bossing him around too much.” She caught her husband’s attention once more before he mounted the stairs. “While you’re up there, could you tell Will that I’m ready to work on social studies whenever he is?”

With a nod, he continued his climb. As the sound of his steps faded, her ears detected a far different noise coming from Alex’s room -- a noise that sounded very much like ripping paper. 

That can’t be good.

Picking up speed, she crossed the threshold just a few seconds later. A pile of roughly torn half-sheets from a notebook lay on the floor before her. Examining the scene, Arden was vaguely conscious of Sophia’s feeble attempts to retrieve them, but what stood out to her more than anything was the florid coloring of her son’s face.

“I told you to leave me alone!” he shouted, pushing a stack of school books from his desk to the floor.

Sophia sidestepped in time to avoid the collision, but Arden still winced when they hit the floor. 

“Hey, hey, hey. Let’s take a deep breath and calm things down in here,” she began, determining that it was probably best to insert herself into the confrontation before the things went any further.

“He needs to finish his homework so he can pass and not get held back another grade,” Sophia summarized. “He can’t keep doing this!” 

The hint of piety in her tone grated the entire length of Arden’s spine. Even though she found herself agreeing with her daughter’s assessment, it was all-too evident that the accusation wasn’t going to do Alex any good.

That child was still seated, his heaving chest and white knuckles providing a glimpse of just how much frustration he’d been bottling up. If the objects on the floor were any indication, his anger had started to spill over. 

“You’re not my boss!”

Arden swallowed hard. She knew these moments were important – that she needed to make it clear that she was the parent and that they couldn’t just make rules for themselves. But the emotional tension was almost paralyzing. She could hardly think, much less find a solution to the conflict brewing in front of her. 

Still, she had to do something.

“Okay,” she started, still trying to gauge the situation. “It’s obvious that you’re both upset right now. I think it’s best for us to all take a few minutes to calm down before we try to work through this. Sophia, you can come with me to the living room. Alex, we’ll let you have some space and be back in a little bit to sort things out.”

…to the docks…

Arden raised a quizzical brow at her son’s arbitrary thought, but pressed on. “We’ll come back in a few minutes,” she reiterated, hoping that the reminder would get him help to calm him. 

Passing through the hallway, she checked the lock on the front door. As far as she knew, he had no history of running away, but his thought about the docks had left her unsettled. She wasn’t taking any chances.

_____

Jaime sauntered down to the main level of the house a few minutes later, expired lightbulbs in hand. By the time he located the proper recycling box and returned from the garage, his wife was waiting in the doorway.

In hushed tones, she filled him in on what had passed while he’d been upstairs. Feeling almost guilty for the time he’d spent joking around with Will, he was determined to pick up the slack in handling the aftermath.

“I’ll go and talk to Alex,” he volunteered, rubbing his palm over the line of his jaw. “I’d like to figure things out with him before we bring Sophia back into it.”

“Thanks. Good luck.” 

Making his way to the open bedroom door, he rapped a finger on the wood before pushing it the rest of the way. As the door swung wide, the first thing he noticed was that the room was empty. The second was that the window was wide open.  

"Alex?” His heart sank even before the word had left his mouth. This can’t be happening. 

Both girls came running at his elevated voice, quickly coming to the same conclusion that he had on seeing the scene.

Jaime didn’t waste time searching the room, instinct telling him that the boy had run from the house. All that mattered was finding him as soon as possible.

Arden’s small wave attracted his attention. When he looked to her, she mouthed a single word: docks.

“I’ll help!” Sophia offered, voice cracking under the pressure of tears. “He gets this way when he’s really upset, but I can usually calm him down.”

With a hand to his daughter’s trembling shoulder, Jaime inclined his head to look her in the eyes. The glistening pools flicked up to his for less than a second before falling back to the papers on the floor.

“Sophia, I know where to find him, and I’ll do everything I can to calm him down myself. For now, I think it’s best for you to stay here with Arden and Will,” he proposed, squeezing her shoulder gently.

“Okay,” she relented, though he could tell from her sigh that she was skeptical about his plan.

Can you explain it to her? he asked his wife as he slipped through the door.

At her nod, he started for the lake.

It seemed unlikely that the boy was in any real danger, but that didn’t stop Jaime’s heart from hammering harder with every step he took through the deepening twilight. Threat or no threat, he needed Alex to know that he wasn’t going to face anything alone.

He relaxed his pace on seeing the small figure at the end of the dock, but he was still breathing hard by the time he made it to the boy’s side.

His son was seated at the corner of the deck, eyes shining with a defiance that Jaime had seen more times than he could count. This particular display of anger would have worried him far more if his son wasn’t sitting with his chin tucked into his knees, curled smaller than he’d ever seen him.

Every part of his consciousness was screaming for him to bundle the boy up in his arms, hold him tightly, and promise that he was never going to let him go. Better judgement was all that held him back.  

“Hey,” he started simply, making sure the child was aware of his presence.

Alex ignored him, teeth ground in frustration.

With a deep breath, Jaime lowered himself beside the boy, careful to maintain several inches of distance between them. He looked him over again, catching a glimpse of the sunset on a series of haphazard lines along his forearm. 

Leaning closer, he could see that they were scratches. No blood had been drawn, but there was no mistaking that they’d been made by a set of fingernails.

Instinctively, his eyes jumped to the boy’s hands. Jaime’s stomach churned. No explanation was good, and he knew with absolute certainty that the marks hadn’t been there during dinner. 

He found himself wishing for Arden’s abilities -- for any advantage that could help him in the conversation that lay ahead. 

“Alex, we need to talk, bud,” he started gently, almost relieved that his son still hadn’t worked up the courage to look him in the eyes. Staring out at the water was easier for both of them. 

The boy’s only reply was a noncommittal, “Hmph.”

When Jaime looked at his face again, he couldn’t help noting the deep set of his brow. Arden was right. There was something more to this than just being angry. 

Whatever it was that plagued his son, this was probably the best opportunity he’d get to help sort it out. Adrenaline pumping, he launched in. “Alex, I know that sometimes running away from problems seems like the best way to solve them, but it usually just makes things worse.”

The child’s hands shifted, the fingers of one hand trailing up and down the series of angry red lines on his arm.

Jaime counted through several long breaths, hoping that Alex would take initiative to break the awkward silence. “Could you tell me what upset you tonight? If I have to try to guess, we’re going to be out here a long time.” 

“I hate school.”

“Did something happen today?” he pressed further. They’d known that the transition to a new school would be challenging, but nothing they’d seen in the first three-and-a-half weeks had given any particular cause for alarm.

“It’s just stupid and I hate it.”

Trying another tactic, Jaime delved into his own past. “I hated school too when I first moved in with Paula. I came to live with her toward the end of the school year, so I didn’t know a single person in my class. I spent the whole first month arguing with her every morning before I got on the bus.”

Alex didn’t say anything, though his grip on his knees loosened almost imperceptibly.  

“She always made me go, so one morning, I hid under the bed so she couldn’t find me.”

“Did she?” His voice was soft, but curious.

“She did.” Jaime shifted to straighten his legs, propping both arms behind him. His stomach was almost sick with the desire to keep his son talking. “And you know what she said?”

“Huh?”

“She told me that I was a superhero.”

Confused, Alex lowered his knees and crossed them, head inclining away from the water for the first time since Jaime had arrived. 

From the corner of his eye, He could see that the boy’s eyes were on him. “She told me that feeling upset could be a superpower, but that I wasted all of its potential when I let it control me instead of being the one to take control. Then she drove me to school and told me to try using my frustration to be the best second-grader I could be.”

Jaime monitored his response, catching the sneer that came over Alex’s features. He didn’t need Arden’s powers to know that the boy was unimpressed.

“I know, I know. It was cheesy. I realized that at the time too, but I wanted to prove to her that I was stronger than those angry feelings. In the end, her advice actually helped.”

Alex rolled his eyes, but said nothing.

“Look, I don’t want to make assumptions, but it seems like some of your feelings have been getting control of you too. Can you tell me what’s been happening?”

“I got angry. Couldn’t help it.”

“What couldn’t you help?”

“I don’t know.”

“You mean throwing your books and running away?” He didn’t even want to give voice to his other suspicion. “Hurting yourself?”

“I don’t know. I just couldn’t help it.”

“Can you tell me what upset you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you sure? Did something happen at school? Was it something Sophia said?” He asked the questions at measured intervals, allowing the boy ample time to respond. When his answer finally, came, the harsh edge in his voice left no doubt in his mind that the conversation was over. 

“I said I don’t know.”

Drawing a ragged breath through his nose, Jaime stared out across the water. There was only so much he could do. It was eminently clear that his son wasn’t interested in sharing any more with him at this point, and pushing him further wouldn’t end well for either one of them.  

Conscious that the rest of his family had been left in a state of upheaval, Jaime determined that it was in everyone’s best interest for them to return home. The matter hadn’t been resolved, but there was still one final reminder he could offer the boy.

“Alex, I’m not sure how to help you right now, but I want you to know that you’re not going to have to deal with this on your own. We’re going to figure this out together, okay?”

The child gave no verbal response, but he joined Jaime in standing and returning to the house.

_____

Two hours later, Arden opened their bedroom door to find Jaime sitting motionless on the bed. They’d parted ways shortly after saying their goodnights to all three kids in the boys’ room.  

With the teary reunion that had occurred when Jaime returned with their runaway, it was little wonder that Sophia had insisted on sleeping on the floor between her brothers. The three of them shared a bond that was unlike anything Arden had ever known as an only child. For her own selfish reasons, she was grateful for the arrangement. Knowing Sophia would keep an eye on things made it all the more likely that she and Jaime could find some rest during the night. 

“I just got off the phone with the caseworker again.” She joined him at the end of the bed, legs close enough feel his presence even without actually touching. “She said we did everything we could.” The words felt as hollow as the sentiment behind them. 

Jaime’s hand slipped into hers, and she gave the clammy fingers a reassuring squeeze. 

“Anyway, I was hoping we could talk for a minute. I wrote up most of the incident report while I was talking with her, but there’s still time to add more details before I send it until tomorrow. Is there anything I should put in based on what happened at the docks? Did he tell you anything?”

“No, I just made things worse.” 

Unaccustomed to the defeat in her husband’s tone, Arden pulled up a leg to angle toward him. His face was a mask, though his thoughts were easy to read. 

I can’t believe I let this happen. 

“Jaime, this isn’t just you,” she implored, “I’m the one who left him alone in there. It never occurred to me that he would climb through the window.” Her strength waning, she dropped fully to the mattress. 

They’d known that parenting would come with its share of struggles, but she hadn’t anticipated that it would leave them feeling so helpless. She was used to problems that could be solved with the right combination of research and discussion. Their children’s hardships were far too ambiguous for such treatment -- especially when it came to their middle child. 

She’d thought that they could head off all of his anger and frustration – prevent it from factoring into this school year to any large degree. But instead, it seemed that he’d been bottling everything up and making it worse. Whatever it was that had set him off this evening was just the indication of a larger worry bubbling below the surface.

“What did we do wrong?”

Arden regarded him solemnly, forehead leaning against her palm as she propped an elbow on the bed. She allowed his question to soak over her mind, flirting with the temptation to take blame for something that she knew had been beyond their control. “I don’t know what else we could have done, honestly. Short of nailing his window shut, I’m not sure how we could have made things any better.”

Jaime fell to his back, emitting a long sigh before he attempted an answer. “I failed, Arden. I went out there thinking I’d be able to talk him through this and we’d be okay. I always figured that my past would give me an edge in dealing with these kinds of things, but I’m at a loss. I don’t know what else to do for him.”

Arden scooted next to him, her ankle hooking his as she drew close enough for contact. “Maybe there isn’t anything else we can do. Especially if there’s more to this than anger.”

“I know he’s been upset before, but this was a new low. If what the caseworker’s told us is right, he’s never run away or hurt himself like this. Why now?”

Shaking her head, she considered the flurry of thoughts that had been in the boy’s mind after they’d returned inside. “I think resentment and fear have been building for a long time. I don’t know who’s responsible for putting them there, but it breaks my heart.” Her throat clogged as she fought over her next words. “I hate that I’m even having to say this, but I think there’s something else going on too. He’s internalizing everything except his anger, and that really worries me.”

Jaime tensed. “I thought he was just having trouble adjusting. New house, new family, new school – I get how difficult that is. But I never wanted to hurt myself because of it.”

“I know.” She buried her face in the mattress as she gathered her thoughts. When she surfaced, it was with a question. “Do you remember that new mental-health initiative Ellen and I covered a couple of years ago? I remember thinking at the time that rates of childhood depression were way higher than I would have expected. I don’t think it’s totally off base to find a therapist for Alex to talk to. Even if that’s not what it is, he clearly needs someone more qualified to help him work through this.”

The more she thought about it, the more determined she was to pursue that course of action. She began drafting a conversation in her head, already making plans to call a therapist the next morning. It wasn’t until some minutes later that she realized Jaime still hadn’t spoken.

When she turned back to him, his face was furrowed with an agonizing thought.

Why am I not enough?

Arden’s blood ran cold. It had been so long since he’d doubted himself like this that she’d vainly hoped they’d moved beyond it. Her husband’s sensitivity was one of the things she loved about him most, but it had a tendency to make him vulnerable at the worst moments.

“Jaime, whatever’s going on with him has nothing to do with you.”

“But I’m his dad. Fixing things is part of my job.” He rubbed his temple, expression still strained.

Rolling closer to him, she splayed a hand over his chest. The hard muscles eased under her touch. “It’s impossible to fix everything,” she murmured, needing to hear the words every bit as much as he did. “And don’t you dare sell yourself short. As far as I’m concerned, all three of them are the luckiest kids in the world because they get to have you as their dad.” 

“You’d never know it from what happened tonight.” 

She hushed him with a tap of her finger. “Humor me for a second.” When he remained silent, she continued. “What were you doing outside with Will yesterday after they got home from school?”

His face softened, though it wasn’t quite a smile. “Kicking around a soccer ball.”

“Exactly. Babe, you’ve seen me play soccer. I fell over once because I wasn’t coordinated enough to kick with one foot at a time. Do you think Will would have had nearly as much fun if I’d been out there instead?”

“No,” he agreed grudgingly.

“And do you realize that you might be the first man in Sophia’s life that actually deserves to earn her trust? You can’t put a value on how important that is.”

“Then why can’t I get my own son to talk to me?”

Arden stopped short at the pitiful question. “It’s not just you. Sometimes I feel like ninety percent of what I know about that child comes from Sophia. He still isn’t ready to come out of his shell around the two of us, and I guess we’re going to have to be okay with that for now. It’s easier with the other two, sure. We keep seeing progress with them. Sooner or later, we’ll see it with Alex too.”

He turned toward her, capturing her in his embrace. She held fast, sighing with relief at the security in his arms. “I can probably count on one hand the number of times you’ve been the one telling me to be patient.”  

Arden’s laugh came out in hot breaths against his shoulder. “See? That’s just another reason why I need you in my life. Can you imagine all of the trouble I’d get into without you?” For long moments, he held her tight, strength coursing through every inch of skin that touched. “We’re going to make it through this.”

“We’re not quitters,” he added, combing a hand through her hair. 

“Especially not when the prize is worth it in the end. Those kids downstairs are so worth it. Our family is worth it.” 

I love you. 

The corners of her mouth tipped up at his thought. “I love you too, babe. So, so much.” 

Three months into parenting, they felt so far from where they wanted to be. Yet, as they clung to one another that night, both dared to believe that it was still within their reach.

[uraberika]

Kissing Booth

Title: Kissing Booth Characters: Urabe Rika, Aphrodi, Mutou Satoshi Pairing: SatoTeru Rated: T  Genres: Humor, Romance Words: 4300 words Summary: Rika drags Aphrodi into organising a kissing booth at the upcoming school fair and things don't go as smoothly as Aphrodi had excpected them to.  On other platforms: ff.net / ao3  Author’s note: This started as a silly headcanon of mine but after months and months that it haunted me, I finally had written it. I screamed about this to @zafiro-satoshi who drew an amazingly adorable art of if too which you can check out here.

Afuro Terumi was screwed. Yet again. He huffed in annoyance as he ran a hand through his blond locks for what felt like the billionth time.  He couldn’t believe that he let himself be fooled like that! He really should have seen it coming, after all the years he had spent being Rika’s friend (and, well, occasional lab rat for her crazy ideas).  Urabe Rika was a girl who he could only describe as batshit crazy. However, she was one of Aphrodi’s closest friends and the boy wasn’t sure if he should be glad or terrified by the fact. Rika was loud, annoyingly girly, and had the most absurd ideas in the world. Like this one, for instance, when she convinced Aphrodi to organise a kissing booth for the school fair. A kissing booth for a school fair, like in some idiotic American high school romcom! The girl had guts, that’s for sure. And, apparently, had the brains too, since she managed to get the school board to actually give their blessing to it. So that’s how Aphrodi ended up with a really enthusiastic Rika behind a stall with a sign “kissing booth” and a price for a kiss which was way too low for Aphrodi’s liking. But that wasn’t the thing that bothered the blond boy the most. What really got on his nerves was Rika’s “sense of time” as the girl liked to call it. When Rika reeled Aphrodi into this whole mess, they had agreed to man the booth in equal amounts, just to be fair. The first round would be Rika’s, then after an hour Aphrodi would take over, then Rika again after another hour, then Aphrodi again and so on, until the event would arrive to its end. It was such a simple plan; even an ape would have understood it. But of course plans are meant to be ruined even though everything started off smoothly at first. Rika started her first hour, smiling charmingly at people passing by and shouting after them something on the lines of “This is a chance not to miss/’cause you get to kiss/this beautiful miss!” which immediately caused Aphrodi to mentally cringe at the awkward poem. She was jumping up and down in excitement while making weird gestures with her hands. No wonder she was a cheerleader, Aphrodi thought. With that voice of hers, she could rouse the dead from their eternal slumber and make them win a game even against the national team. So the first hour passed in loud shouting while Rika distributed kisses to every poor soul who dared to approach the stall within two meters. They had a moderate amount of success; their shoe box of coins was still only full about to a quarter. Aphrodi snickered as he remembered that this definitely wasn’t what the principal was expecting. Even though Rika managed to get his approval, it was on the condition of donating the raised money to the school’s rather empty foundation.  The gym needed new equipment, the library needed faster computers, and the canteen was waiting for a big renewal as well. But with this amount of money, the school would be able to buy a few second-hand textbooks the most. However, it was none of Aphrodi’s concern; he just hoped that the principal wouldn’t make a big scandal about it. So when the time arrived, he took over the booth with little worry. In retrospect, he should have been worried.

He wasn’t even manning the booth for what felt like fifteen minutes when Aphrodi had to realize that people were clearly more interested in him than they were in Rika. At another time, he sure would have appreciated the attention, but in this particular case, he just wanted to get over with it. He checked his watch for the fiftieth time, took a sharp breath and let his eyes wander over the small crowd gathering in front of the DIY cardboard structure decorated with plenty of glitter and paper hearts (courtesy of Rika). Oh boy, this was going to be a long hour!

And in fact, it was one hell of an hour. Aphrodi kissed more people than he could care to count and now all he wished for was a break. Luckily, he didn’t have to wait any longer for it. He turned his head to the side and looked down at Rika. The blue haired girl was crouched next to Aphrodi, her back leaning against the wall with phone in one hand. She seemed greatly immersed in her phone and was typing so furiously, Aphrodi thought the screen would crack any minute. Rika suddenly realized Aphrodi was staring at her, and she looked up at him.

“Hey, guess what! My Darling had a match yesterday, and a video of it got uploaded, so of course, I had to check it to see my man play again but then I scrolled down and you wouldn’t believe what I saw!” she ignored the sarcastic-faked horrified gasp coming from Aphrodi and put one hand to her heart in a dramatic pose. “Someone was writing trash about PA!” PA was short for Pegasus Academy, the top-notch prissy American private school Rika’s boyfriend went to. They were exclusive and super strict when it came to rules. The school of course, not Rika and her boyfriend. To be honest, Aphrodi knew very little of Rika’s One True Love, he had only met him twice while he was staying at Rika’s for a short time. The guy seemed nice enough if not a bit anxious at times. Or maybe it was just due to Rika, to whose random outbursts the poor boy usually ducked his head in an automatic defence measure.

“Rika!” Aphrodi pinched the bridge of his nose. “People talk trash all the time on the internet. They are called trolls for a reason. Don’t waste your time with them. Come and man the booth instead, it’s your turn.”

“I can’t right now. A bitch is waiting to be roasted,” the cheerleader said and her attention was immediately focused back onto the screen. “Plus, with you, the business is booming!” Aphrodi sighed in exasperation but decided against arguing with her. Starting a fight with Rika was almost pointless since she wouldn’t even care to listen. Whenever her Darling was involved in something, her hearing and vision became quite selective.  So he chose the next best option instead.

“Ten minutes max,” he said in a threatening voice and turned back to the slowly dissipating crowd in front of the booth. He could manage ten more minutes, Aphrodi assured himself. The only problem was that Rika’s dictionary didn’t actually contain the expression “ten minutes”. Because suddenly, ten minutes turned into fifteen, then into twenty and then into twenty-five minutes, and Rika still hadn’t looked up from her phone. After an hour had passed, Aphrodi was seriously on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

“What the hell takes you so damn long?” the blond boy hissed through gritted teeth. And at last, Rika finally lifted her gaze off the screen.

“Hey, look!” she said cheerfully, as if nothing had happened. “Touko has been transferred back here, she sent a pic from the base!” and indeed, in the picture was a girl with a grin as wide as the Grand Canyon with messy shoulder-length red hair, dressed in a khaki uniform and hat. Zaizen Touko was a former upperclassman of Rika’s and her best friend before Aphrodi transferred here. When she graduated, she joined the army and now worked as a general at a small military unit, but in the picture, she was smiling as if she had never gone through the worst of hell at the army. She was way too young to serve in the military in Aphrodi’s opinion, but the girl was a tough one, he could tell, even if just from Rika’s anecdotes. “We can finally meet again!” Rika turned back excitedly to her phone and Aphrodi could literally feel the veins starting to pulse in his head. So, he changed tactics.

“Girl, I’m really happy for you. Really, I am. But we agreed on switching, and I swear to the Gods, if you don’t stand up and take my place in the next three seconds, I’ll go and dump this shoebox of cash into the dumpsters, and I don’t care if we get expelled for it.” This new plan turned out to be more effective, since Rika quickly rose to her feet, her face wrinkled up in a pout as she begrudgingly changed places with Aphrodi while murmuring something along the lines of “no need the unleash that divine wrath of yours”, but Aphrodi just rolled his eyes.  The divine or god jokes were really nothing new to him. People always made teasing remarks about him or his appearance or his love for Ancient Greek culture and mythology, so he was used to people making jokes about him being a god and all that. Actually, that was the reason why he got the nickname “Aphrodi”. Almost everyone in school called him that because he was clearly and openly a mythology nerd and, well, his appearance did seem to resemble in some way that of the Goddess of Love with his long, blond hair and delicate frame.

So, Aphrodi could finally sit back and relax. He leaned against the wall with a contended sigh and closed his eyes, letting the relaxing feel of his muscles unclenching surge through his body. After a few minutes, he opened his eyes and looked around. It was clear that the school fair was slowly but surely coming to an end. Even though there was still almost an hour left of the event, a lot of stalls had closed shop already due to selling out or simply because of the exhausted students.  Aphrodi himself wished to pack up and just leave, but that would be admitting defeat. Rika finally took her turn, and she would work for all that money that Aphrodi had raised. Because by the looks of it, Rika wasn’t getting many customers. It was not her fault though, the corridor was almost empty, and most of the students have already sneaked out of the building. It was an extra-curricular event, so no one really bothered to check whether everyone was staying until the last hour.  Occasionally, one or two students walked by, but none of them spared even a glance at the stall.

As he heard the sound of footsteps growing louder and louder in the acoustic corridor, Aphrodi cracked one eye open, and it immediately went wide. He quickly opened his other eye, because he had to double check to make it sure, but indeed, his eyes weren’t deceiving him. The one crossing the corridor was none other than Mutou Satoshi. The boy had long, purple hair, reaching way down past his shoulder blades and the warmest hazel eyes Aphrodi has ever seen. He had a white towel around his neck and was taking quick breaths as he dabbed his damp hair with the end of the towel. He must have come from practice, the sane part of Aphrodi observed. Mutou played as a striker in the school’s football team, and no, the fact didn’t make him any less attractive. Aphrodi has been crushing on him for almost a year now. He met the boy through Rika, at one of the parties that were thrown after a big victory (or an unfair lose) at some player’s house. Rika dragged Aphrodi along because her Darling wasn’t free that night, and Rika needed supervision when it came to partying. That was when Rika introduced him to the whole football team (and, well, to the cheerleader team as well, but that didn’t really grasp Aphrodi’s interest), and that was when Aphrodi first saw Mutou. After a brief handshake, neither of them really spoke to each other (due to the fact that Aphrodi was so stunned by the boy’s handsomeness that he suddenly forgot all the communication skills he used to have, and, because, as he came to know later on, Mutou wasn’t really the one for small talk. Or for talk, in general. As from what information Aphrodi gathered within several months, Mutou was a calm and collected boy with a solid moral compass but with few social abilities, and his comportment had a certain distinctness to it. His moves were delicate but calculated. His speech was always polite but at the same time somewhat reserved. So, Mutou was everything the hot headed blond wasn’t; but that didn’t stop Aphrodi from falling head over heels for the poor boy who must have had no idea about the whole situation.  Despite their first awkward meeting, Aphrodi and Mutou remained good acquaintances. They would wave at each other while passing in the hallway and, sometimes, they would eventually make small talk after practice, while both of them were waiting for their friends to change and finally be able to be off. So it was no surprise that the purple-haired striker waved and headed towards them when he spotted the duo behind the stall. Nevertheless, Aphrodi’s heart skipped a beat while he tried to get his knees to cooperate in standing up and moving his body next to Rika.

As soon as the cheerleader spotted Mutou, her face lit up. While Aphrodi was still contemplating on which form of greeting to choose (“good day” sounded so formal, while a casual “hello” made Aphrodi think that he would seem careless), Rika had no such qualms about it.

“Hey, Mutou-kun!” she shouted enthusiastically, letting everyone know even on the third floor that, indeed, Urabe Rika has spotted a friend. She waved towards him in an over exaggerated manner while a small smile spread across the boy’s lips.

“Hello, Rika-san!” he said and turned his head towards Aphrodi and nodded slightly, his gaze never meeting the blonde’s. “Aphrodi-san.”

Suddenly, Aphrodi was too aware of how the temperature in the corridor seemed to rise. This was absolutely abnormal. It was May, for the Gods, who would ever think of turning the heating on in here?! No wonder the school needed money, if they heat away all of their funds!

“How are you doing, Mutou-kun?” the blue haired girl asked. “How was practice?”

“It was fine,” the boy said, and even though he wasn’t actually smiling anymore, Aphrodi could hear the delight in his voice. “We still got a lot to work on, but I’m actually quite optimistic this time,” the boy said, and that was when Aphrodi knew that that football team must be really something. Mutou was the most realistic guy he had ever met; he had a real down-to-earth mentality and he didn’t throw around praises in the air just for nothing. Aphrodi couldn’t help but let a goofy smile loom its way to his expression. He really liked when Mutou was optimistic.  “And you, guys?” came the question, and Aphrodi was shaken out of his daydreaming in an instant. Somehow he actually realised that they were indeed doing a kissing booth, and oh boy, if this wasn’t his luckiest day in years!

“Actually,” the blond boy cleared his throat. “I was about to take over the booth, since Rika-chan’s shift was just about to end.” He tried to smile as innocently as he could while he also prayed that Rika would get the hint being a self-proclaimed love expert and all.

“You what now?” Rika asked incredulously. “C’mon man, you’ve been whining for a whole hour wanting me switch you out, and now that I’ve taken over, you actually want to switch back?” she asked in pure confusion. Looks like Aphrodi overestimated Rika’s expertise in the domain of love and subtle hints. Oh well, there’s nothing that a good shove in the ribs wouldn’t solve.  

While Rika was trying to grasp her side and catch her breath not too obviously, Aphrodi put on his most charming smile and turned to the boy at the other end of the booth who watched the events with a mildly confused expression and a raised brow. A couple of seconds passed while Rika regained her composure. She stared at the duo warily, her gaze darting from one to another with incredible speed. And finally, after what felt like an eternity to Aphrodi, the penny dropped. Her face lit up as the realisation hit her, and she sent a rather smug smirk towards Aphrodi spiced with a weird suggestive lift of her blue eyebrows (an expression which was sure to haunt Aphrodi in his future nightmares).

“Of course!” she slapped a hand across her forehead. “I was just about to head for the…” her voice seemed the waver for a minute. “Toilets,” she finished with absolute conviction. Well, Rika wasn’t the best at improvisation, but Aphrodi had to give her kudos for the dramatic vehemence. “I’ll trust you can take care of things while I’m away?” she said as she was clearly fighting to be able to keep the amusement and mockery out of her voice. “Good luck, make sure he pays just as much as any customer would!” she shouted over her shoulder, then all Aphrodi could make out was a blue blur, and suddenly the ever-enthusiastic cheerleader was gone.

As soon as Rika disappeared out of sight, a slightly awkward silence settled between the two boys. Aphrodi still couldn’t believe his luck that he actually managed to get into this situation with Mutou of all people! Just like in some idiotic American high school romcom, he smiled to himself. He must have done something really noble for the Gods to provide him such a lucky situation, he amused as he stared at the purple-haired striker with a rather starstruck expression. On the other hand, Mutou’s expression wasn’t as trusting. He eyed the blond boy warily as one would scrutinize a wildcat in its cage: fascinated but ready to bolt at any minute in case something bad happened. So, Aphrodi decided to step up his game. After all, he wasn’t nicknamed after the goddess of love for nothing!

He flashed his brightest smile and looked the boy right into the eyes, determined to say something flirty.

“So, you come here often?” Aphrodi wanted to mentally slap his own face for the slip-up. Way to go, Casanova, just barge down that damn door, wouldn’t you?!

Mutou looked around the area with furrowed brows and asked: “You mean… the corridor?” Well, there’s no turning back now, so Aphrodi just slightly nodded. Mutou’s expression didn’t soften, but he shrugged. “I guess,” he replied. “Though I have classes more frequently on the third floor.”

Aphrodi quickly swallowed back the laughter threatening to burst through his mouth. The boy took his question literally!

“I see,” Aphrodi replied to gain some time to think. “So, care to help us out in raising funds for the school?” he asked next. This time Aphrodi mentally patted himself on the back. That was so subtle that even he wasn’t sure where he wanted this conversation to go.

“Sure. The gym could use a few new soccer balls. What you guys doing?” the striker asked, his distrust slowly dissolving. Aphrodi pointed upwards, to the huge sign with “kissing booth” written all over in pink and filled with so many drawn red hearts that Aphrodi was pretty sure that it was unhealthy. Mutou followed the motion with his gaze, finally settling onto the ominous carton board. What happened next was absolutely unexpected: the ever-collected boy, who was always polite and whose expression rarely betrayed his thoughts, turned to a curious shade of beet.

“Ah I see…” he murmured to himself as he was clearly trying to recompose himself. Aphrodi knew that a lot of people were against their idea and some of them (like Nagumo) even cared to voice their displeasure. Maybe Mutou was one of those people who found a kissing booth on a school fair scandalous. Aphrodi decided it was time to backtrack before Mutou gave a piece of his mind too on the matter, just like Nagumo did.

“Of course, if you’re against the idea, I absolutely understand, the thought is what counts,” the blond boy said quickly.

“No-no, of course not,” Mutou quickly reassured him. “It’s a really… hmm…” he coughed. “Creative way of raising funds. And everything for a better equipped school, right?” he asked and fished out a few coins of the pocket of his shorts. He laughed, but the sound was strained as if he was trying to convince himself to put the money into the box. Finally, he dropped the coins into the makeshift bank. He then stared at Aphrodi expectantly with the colour not fading a bit on his face. Aphrodi was glad that even though he had a pale complexion, he wasn’t the one to easily blush. And on the few occasions when he felt insecure or embarrassed or overjoyed, only his earns turned red. Thus the long hair, and he thanked the Gods that this time his ears were safely tucked behind his blond locks because he could feel that they were almost flaming.

Aphrodi looked back at Mutou as he listened to the pounding of his heart in his ears. Should he make the first move? Should he be the one to lean in? Or should he just wait until Mutou feels comfortable enough to come closer? As he looked at the boy, he could clearly see the hesitation on his face. Does he not like him? Funny enough, this thought had never crossed Aphrodi’s mind before. Everyone is always so swept away by his appearance and manners and his whole charm that the thought has never actually occurred to him. But what if Mutou only liked him as a friend?

However, before Aphrodi could fall into an endless cycle of overthinking, the purple-haired boy suddenly moved towards him and put his lips to Aphrodi’s. Immediately, all coherent thoughts stopped coursing through Aphrodi’s brain while he felt the strength escaping his legs.  He quickly braced himself on the top of the counter as he tried not to get lost in the kiss too much. It was really the sweetest and most innocent kiss Aphrodi had today, hell, even his whole life, and he didn’t want this moment to ever end. But this time, the Gods decided that this was enough luck for today and the next thing Aphrodi knew was that Mutou had drawn back and was face to face again with him. His whole face was burning and Aphrodi could also feel that the heat had finally spread across his own cheeks as well. They stared at each other for a few seconds; both not quite comprehending what they had just done. Finally, after an eternity, Mutou coughed in embarrassment and turned away.

“Well, good luck to the rest of the fair,” he croaked and repositioned a strand of hair behind his ear. He was clearly going, and Aphrodi started to panic. No, this can’t end like this! After a whole year of pining that’s it? Maybe Mutuo didn’t get the message that he likes him? Nah, that can’t be it, Aphrodi literally kissed him on the lips! Well, as part of a kissing booth project where they were raising funds by kissing people, and Aphrodi had kissed a lot of people, and oh for the love of the Gods, Mutou had no idea! Aphrodi had to think of something quickly before Mutou’s retreating back disappeared completely out of sight. So, he decided to act upon instinct.

“Wait!” he didn’t really even think through what he was going to say, but Mutou immediately turned around and raised a questioning eyebrow at his direction. “Are you free on Sunday?” There goes nothing!

“Uhm… I guess?” the purple-haired boy scratched his neck; feeling embarrassed at the sudden attention Aphrodi gave him as his cheeks turned yet again a faint shade of red. “I’ll have practice in the morning but after that I’m mostly free. Why?” he asked suspiciously as if he was waiting for Aphrodi to take back what he said at any moment.

“You see…”Aphrodi started. “Rika’s boyfriend is having a match, a super elite one, that is. And of course, Rika, being her girlfriend, got a couple of extra tickets. Of course she would get, why wouldn’t she, right?” oh for the Gods’ sake, now he was rambling! He should have been named after the goddess of nonsense, not the goddess of love! “And you see, I actually got a plus one, and since you are a striker and everything I thought you’d be interested, and maybe we could go there together so I could show you the place, it’s an amazingly huge stadium really, one of the best, and you see…” Aphrodi was tripping on his words and he saw Mutuo’s lips curving into small smile at his struggling.

“Thank you for thinking of me,” the boy replied, his voice more measured than ever and for a moment Aphrodi’s heart skipped a beat as he became sure that Mutou was going to decline his sort-of-clumsy-date-proposal. “I would love to watch Ichinose-san’s match with you,” he said.

“Oh, great,” Aphrodi let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “So how about we meet half an hour before the match at the park next to the school? Around six? “

“Sounds great,” Mutou smiled amicably, blush fading on his face. And the next moment, the purple-haired boy was gone just like an illusion, but Aphrodi knew that it was anything but an illusion. He placed his head in the palm of his hands as he grinned at the empty corridor like some idiot. Oh boy, Rika was going to freak out so much!

[everpeasant]

Future Inclinations

His words rang through my head. “What is your biggest regret?” The words bounced around my skull, becoming distorted, contorted, and then he retorted. “Hey, you still there man? It’s been like a minute if you don’t want to tell me that’s fine.” He continued to stare at me as I struggle to spit out my words.

“No, I am out of the house anyway. I should probably open up a bit.” I slowly looked up, meeting his eyes, they are full of energy. I don’t know what it is, but Charles always is full of energy. Drugs? I don’t think so, his eyes aren’t bloodshot. They are crimson red, which is somewhat terrifying, but that isn’t the point. His words would continue to morph “What did you do?”, “Why did you do it?”, then finally into “You want to bring them back don’t you?” Why is a coworker asking questions like that, to me of all people? I was the loner, I didn’t cause trouble, I didn’t even talk to him really. Why was he interested in me, why did he invite me out? Is he just a nice guy trying to build me up, is he gay, does he want to rob me too?

“I had some trouble years ago with some bad men,” I say in a soft voice. “They were convinced that I owed them money, but I paid everything off! I shouldn’t have even taken it in the first place. I shouldn’t have taken the money…” I whisper to Charles, but really to myself.

Charles looks dumbfounded, he signals for the bartender to pour us a shot. “Hey man, I didn’t know I was talking to a walking logline for some b-movie”. We clink our shot glasses together and swig down the bitter gin. “What you need the money for anyway? You a gambler, like the ladies, maybe a senator’s son who lost his inheritance?”

As I finished cleaning out the peanut bowl set in front of me, I glance over for a moment. In the clouded mess that was my mind, I sludged through memories of pain and suffering, of mine, and of… I couldn’t get myself to say their names. “No, nothing like that.” I say weakly, “My wife and I needed to pay for medical bills, for the baby.”

“I didn’t know you had a wife and kid.”

I squint at the shell of a peanut that I was fidgeting with. “You wouldn’t. These bad men ran them off the road a couple of years back. To get to me, to send a message, the only message that I got was that my life was over. A worthless life. To have all of this hope for the future snuffed out in an instant is the most excruciating thing in the world.” I reached into my bag and pulled out a small purple plush octopus, its eyes are teared, and charred, some legs are missing, with a stained dark crimson on the mouth. “This was my daughters. She would bring this octopus everywhere with her, its name was Scylla, like the Kraken, I would always read my daughter Greek Mythology. I found this at the crash site. She was still holding it. My wife was only alive long enough to look me in the eyes, she held our daughter.”

Charles signaled for the bartender to leave the bottle for us. “You blame yourself then? I mean you think it's your fault.”

I turned to him, Charles reaches over the bar and takes two-pint glasses, fills one for him and one he pours and offers to me. I hesitate but take it. “I do. I killed the only two people that mattered to me in this world. I don’t even want to look at myself in the morning.” I take a swig.

“When was this?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“When did the accident happen?”

“May 3rd, 2018,” I say a little standoffish.

Charles gets up and finishes his glass. “Well, I gotta go piss, I’ll be right back.”

I nod to him as he walks away. That amount of alcohol should have killed him. Charles is a weird guy, although he can probably handle his drink, as for me I don’t want to pass out in an alleyway. I poured a little over half of my gin back into the bottle. I never really have had someone to talk to about this. Maybe it would be a good idea to talk to a therapist, I clearly am emotionally distraught about this.

Charles makes his way from the bathroom back to his seat. “Now don’t be mad.”

What would I be mad about? “What do you mean?”

He pulls Scylla out of his pocket, it is in pristine condition, just as my daughter had it. “I stole your daughters’ toy.”

I reach into my bag and the toy is gone. “What did you do? How did you fix it? Why did you-?”

“Nothing like that my friend. I did nothing except step through a wormhole I produced in the bathroom.”

“Is that some type of gross way to talk about you pooping?”

“No. I just…” Charles sighs “I am a time traveler. I literally took this from your daughter. The accident still happened; I just took this from your house the morning of.”

I sit still I feel like I have been violated. “No that’s not possible.”

“Felt that way for a little bit. I forgot to ask where you lived, took me several loops to find the right place. I remembered that you could look up who owns a property through a library database, thank god they have that.”

“But this can't be real, you must have bought a new toy. But why would you do that? Are you trying to fuck with me!” People start to stare at us.

Charles comes closer. “Listen, I am not monstrous enough to do something like that. Also, when would I have the ability to go get this exact toy, along with steal the one that you had?”

“You think that time travel makes more logical sense than getting a new toy and sleight of hand?”

“Well, I was never any good at sleight of hand. I am more used to time travel, so It's not too farfetched for me.”

I stand up and grab his coattails and drag him to the bathroom. He struggles. I kicked open the door and threw him to the ground. “Hey what are you doing!” Charles says rubbing his head.

“What the hell are you talking about?! You're a time traveler? You can go back in time and change things huh? Why are you lying to me, what are you getting out of this!?”

“I can prove it to you. Umm um um um… I can bring any famous person here, to prove it. Would that do it?”

“Anyone huh? Bring me, Socrates.”

“Well… that'd be kind of hard since he doesn’t exist.”

“What do you mean?”

“I feel like you say that a lot. Socrates was made up by Plato, and Plato was made up by Aristotle. Kind of a crazy story that one. Aristotle was trying to hit on this lady, but he was a pretty lowly philosopher. No name for himself, so he made one. He made up this sort of lineage of great philosophers that he descended from. It really is quite interesting.”

“Sure, I believe you. That sounds totally true. Okay, Why don’t you bring me Lincoln?”

“Yeah, sure give me a minute.” He walks into the stall and goes to close the door, I eyeballed him. “What I can’t do it if you are watching.”

The door closed; I rolled my eyes. A large flash blinds me as my hair shoots straight up. Wind circles around the bathroom sending paper towels, and toilet paper careening any which way. Trying to recuperate myself I pat down my hair and call for Charles. I get no response. I peek through the slot in the stall to try to see if he is there, fully expecting to be ridiculed for doing so, yet nothing. No ironic 50s horror movie woman scream, no tirade about personal boundaries, nothing. Charles was gone. The door was still locked. I looked around and saw no window that he could sneak out of. Could this be real? I thought.

That’s when a flash of light emerges, wind resumes its hectic tirade. The chaos dies down leaving me startled again. The stall door opens and out steps Charles in a Sergeant’s uniform followed by a tall man with a tall black top hat. His face is friendly but confused. “Where are we Sergeant Geller? I don’t know how we got in this Lavoratory, but it is dandy!”

I stared dumbfounded at the Former/Current President. Still trying to deny my eyes I ask Charles, “How on earth did you do that? How did you get this actor in here without me noticing?”

“Actor?” replies Lincoln

“Don’t say such things! President Lincoln here hates actors.”

“No, I do not.” Says the president.

“Well maybe you should,” Charles says as he ushers the president back into the stall. “Say goodbye to the President.”

I wave bye to Lincoln, still not fully believing what has happened to me. The light, the wind, it all returns. Charles walks out of the stall rather confidently. “Eh? Eh?” Charles spreads his arms apart. “What’d I tell you? Time fuggin traveler!”

“Was that Lincoln?”

“Honestly, just assume that I’m telling the truth at this point, it is starting to get annoying. Of course, it was Lincoln.”

“I need a second to breathe, this is all too much.”

“Sure thing. Hey while you’re waiting how about you pick if you want to bring your wife, or your daughter back to life.”

“Huh?”

“Who lives who dies, oldest trick and the book, right next to the ol’ stab em and rob em, that one’s, my favorite.”

“I don’t care about any of that! You can bring them back?”

“Only one. I kind of have this project I am working on, and I needed a test group.”

Rage fills my eyes, the next thing I know I am flying through the air, tackling Charles to the ground. “What do you mean only one!? You sick bastard, are you going to make me choose?! This is just some fucking experiment to you!”

“Well yes-” My fist decks Charles in the face. He starts to bleed from his nose a little bit. He tries to move his jaw. “-ow. Listen man my hands are tied, and not because you’re pinning them. The people I work for are having me do this.”

“We work for the same people!”

“You know you can have 2 jobs, right? Clearly not, otherwise, you wouldn’t have needed the mon-”, my punch lands on the other cheek. “-Fine that one was called for. I can’t bring back more than 1 person at a time. Trust me it gets messy if you do more than 1. Just give it some thought. Who do you want back the most?”

I let go of Charles. He looked relieved. Tears began to pour from my eyes. I ran to the stall to have privacy. “Wait not that one!” I slam the stall door and start to bawl. “It was just a joke… relax.”

What the hell is going on? Time travel? That is something that only happens in hacky movies that don’t know how to get out of a situation. But in real life? Oh my god! Do I have to choose? The love of my life? Or my precious daughter? I love Clarisse so much, she was the best woman a man could have asked for. She stood up for herself through any bullshit, even my own. She would make me a better person every day. Her laugh brought light to every room. I could use some light in my life right now. But Iris… my sweet daughter, I needed to protect her, and I failed… She would always wake me up early on the weekends and ask me to play with her, read her the Iliad, or make her favorite Chocolate Blueberry Pancakes. Those moments may have been the happiest of my life, raising my daughter to be the person she would turn into. Would… I sighed. I miss them both so much. I want them both back, but I can’t have that. Dark thoughts entered my mind, it was as if I was a whale, speared, hooks in deep, pulling at the barbs only making it more painful. Clarisse… I want you back. But I know you would never forgive me if I saved you instead of our sweet Iris. She has such a bright future. I hope you will forgive me.

I sit on the toilet, my eyes red, rubbed to the point of blistering. I am unable to cry more. I must accept fate, or reverse fate in this case. Struggling to my feet I push my hands to the side of the stall for support. My hand is placed next to a drawing of Kilroy, along with the quote “‘Sometimes, you have to step outside of the person you've been and remember the person you were meant to be. The person you want to be. The person you are.’ ― H.G. Wells”. I open the door and slowly make my way to Charles. Standing above, I look him in the eyes and say, “Save my daughter, oh please dear god save Iris!” He looks at me, no quirky remark, he only nods. Blood still drips from his nose, covering his shirt. It looks like he used the wrist of his Sergeant’s uniform to clean blood from his face. He enters the stall and the bright flash and wind return. I stand nervously, not knowing how to feel. Was I mad? Was I glad? Panic set its sights upon me as the flash of light returned.

[sugarcyanide]

God Among Men

This was going to be a submission to an anthology. My life tumbled and changed and I never submitted. I am posting it here to share, for now.

A God Among Men By Sugar Cyanide

Sometimes you don’t choose your Gods they choose you…

I should preface this with a little background information about myself. I have always been a rebel without a cause and become more of a rebel when given a cause. When everyone is turning right I must go left, usually, the reason is arbitrary at best. The more someone pushes me to go with the herd the more I will fight them and I do enjoy a good fight.

Many moons ago when I was a young Gothling, a wannabe Baby Bat. I had just graduated from high school and was living on my own. While attending the local community college I fell into a group of outcasts. (As one social outcast can only find another.) I soon found what was affectionately called Freaks Corner a section of the cafeteria where all of us misfits hung out. We were there in between classes, during classes and some of us didn’t even attend school there anymore. It was here in Freaks Corner where I graduated from a research Pagan to a practicing Pagan. Freaks Corner was my Mecca, it was everything I always fantasized about in the French Revolution cafes, where writers like Victor Hugo and Alexandre Dumas met till the wee hours of the morning drinking and debating, right there in modern Suburbia. It was here that I met my first real-life Pagans. People who knew about the things I was just learning and not some faceless screen name half a world way via an internet connection.

They were some of the very worst kind of Pagans that I could have fallen in with. I learned much during my time there everything except what I was taking classes on. In between LARPing Vampire the Masquerade and playing Magic the Gathering was discussions on Nietzsche, Satanism, and Anarchy. This is also where I met my first Unofficial Teacher.

I say unofficial because she refused to teach me. She had taken many a student under her wing but always refused my requests. Finally, she told me that she only teaches those who are not naturally gifted. That she was the “Special Ed” teacher. I never fully accepted this flattering refusal and figured that there was another reason she would never tell me. As one who was never easily deterred, I learned much from her by simply watching and observing.

In this group of people, there were those who dabbled in things they shouldn’t. Soon their eyes started to gleam with a sheen that is a characteristic often associated with movie villains. Everyone in the group started to go off their hinges a bit and the rumors ran rampant. There was talk of demon summoning and animal sacrifice, none of which I was a part of nor saw. I shrugged most of it off as vicious gossip and did my best to not get involved.

My life took a turn as it does and I was pulled away from the group. I would not run into any of them until years later. I had just come out of the Broom Closet to my then husband and was looking for those of like mind that I could share my beliefs. I ran into the old group from Freaks Corner who had graduated to taking up space in a local coffee house. Upon running into my old mentor this time I was drawn into the web like that of a fly to a spider. She had a habit of holding court at a friend’s place around the corner where she would proceed to channel and let herself be ridden by the spirits of her choice, much to the awe and amusement to those in her audience.

At the time the things I experienced in that room was extremely convincing and scary. The things I took part of in my own ignorance. Looking back now I do wonder how much of it was real and how much of it was a great manipulation, an answer I shall never know.

It was during such a session that the name of Set was brought up. She had stated that someone in the group had caught his attention and that he would be watching them. At which point my eye was drawn upward and what did I see? It was like a great ripping of the fabric of reality someone one had pulled way the ceiling and was peering in. With big eyes and a Cheshire grin staring right at me.

Now understand I am not an Egyptian reconstructionist and never was. I did not know who Set was at the time and didn’t really know the Egyptian Pantheon. I was still searching and that was simply not a direction my quest had gone. While I am thankful for those who research and preserve the Egyptian traditions it was simply a path I had yet to cross.

That moment of meeting Set was in the fall. The following was a year of hell. Set was literally invoked into my life and he literally destroyed everything that was not needed. For those that read Tarot, it was like getting the Death card and the Tower card in the same reading. I was completely stripped bare of everything that I had built up from before that time and had to completely start over from scratch. I lost my home, my business, divorced my husband and became seriously ill. He was a sandstorm that came into my life and stripped me down to my bones. His only response to my pleas for mercy was. “I like my children strong you will survive or perish. Anything else matters not.”

I have learned that Set is the epitome of Tough Love. Sink or Swim. I do not regret that time. I learned so much in such a short time. While the learning process was painful one does not forget those lessons because the pain has etched them into your memory. And the rewards of survival the rewards of succeeding after such tribulations are great. My reward was Rocky.

Set is still apart of my life. Sometimes he visits and drops wisdom bombs into my life. Other times he just shows up for a chat.

My God comes to me at night. He whispers in my ear, “Come, you must tell my side of the story”. I pull my overly tired body from the warmth of my bed. Sitting down at my desk, I proceed to transcribe his words as they are dancing the air.  He sits beside me on my beat up cat fur covered couch in a suit cut to fit like a glove. Dark royal blue with a soft slate gray pinstripe, a crisp white shirt underneath with the collar open at his throat. His carrot orange-red hair is swept off his face as his finely woven dreadlocks fall to his waist. He smiles at me with a big toothy grin. Chewing on his cigar the gold rings flash on his fingers. It is a cross between corporate executive and old school mobster. Just enough thug, as they say, to know he doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty. “Write my story,” he says his voice a low rumble next to me, “tell my side.”

Today, I have a story to tell. My brother’s name has been known across the millennia and I with it, as his murderer. While his story has been told and retold across the centuries, mine has been lost. I have played my part and done my duty, but the world has changed and our names have become mere echoes of the past. My duty is over and now it is my turn to share my tale.

Several millennia ago when the world was a much simpler place, a Tribal King celebrated in the news that his Queen would give birth to twin sons. It was a joyous occasion indeed, for one son was a blessing but two was a gift from the Gods. The King was most joyous for He was a hardened man and had fought many battles. Life was difficult and many died young. Having two sons was a great boon indeed for Him and His kingdom.

The day of birth came and the Queen was in labor for hours. Eventually, Her first son arrived, he was small, smaller than normal. He barely fit across both of the King’s palms. The Midwife feared he would not make it through the night. Shortly thereafter, the next baby was born. He was significantly larger than his brother and his skin was as pale as fresh milk, his hair was bright reddish white and his eyes shone red as blood. The Midwife almost dropped the boy out pure shock after she pulled him from his mother. Seeing the mother passed out from exhaustion, the Midwife laid the babe down in his cradle and fled. She was afraid that the King would blame her for this Demon Child, (and rightfully so for that boy was me.)

It took the King’s men a matter of days to hunt her down. She gave herself away by sharing her knowledge of the King’s Demon Child. It was only natural for the King to blame her. He couldn’t blame Himself and certainly not his Lady Love. Someone had to take the blame. I wasn’t quite old enough to shoulder that responsibility, just yet.

Despite my Father’s distaste for me and my Mother’s horror, I grew up in the comfort of love that only one twin brother can have for another. We protected each other; him, me from Father’s wrath and I; him from all the larger boys that would dare bully him. We were polar opposites. I was overly large, pale, red-eyed and haired, sensitive to the sun while he was smaller, dark complected with skin as dark as night and loved to bask in the sun’s afternoon rays. Our differences didn’t matter, we loved each other. Until one day that all changed.

I always felt, that my place was at my brother’s side as his protector. I knew that he as the elder of the two would ascend the throne of our Tribal Kingdom. I felt him no envy. It’s a tedious job being King and much simpler being a soldier. I was willing to give him my life for he was the only one that loved me.

One day a Great Wise One came down out of the mountains. Upon arrival, He demanded to speak to the King. ( In my ignorance, I was surprised that such a meeting was allowed. ) He came bearing a tale of a great slithering beast that would devour us all. I merely thought he was a mad old man but my Father clearly knew better. When the Great Wise One produced a scale that was the size of a chariot and reflected the colors of dawn, I knew He told no madman’s tale. The Wise One demanded a tribute: my Father’s best soldiers to fight the beast. My Father said He would send aid under one condition. The Wise One must find a suitable wife for his eldest son. The Wise One chuckled, saying he would do better and bring wives for both his sons. At this, my Father exploded into a rage, denouncing me as his son, saying that a demon such as I could have never come from his seed. I had always known my Father’s disdain for me, but there is knowing and then there is displaying it for the whole world to see. My Father sent me with the Wise One saying he could spare no one else, fully expecting me not to return.

After having prepared for the journey; shoring off my waist-length locks, burning them as was custom. The Wise One and I set upon our journey and I said farewell to the only home I have ever known, in full acceptance of meeting my death.  Alas, that was far from happening. Shortly into our journey, The Wise One revealed his true glimmering nature. He was no old and feeble wizard but a God. He told me that it was true that I was not my Father’s son and to my surprise nor my Mother’s child. Neither was my brother, he said with a toothy grin, " I created you both from Earth and Sky, my children, and implanted you both into your Mother’s womb. Come, my child, let us fight this beast like the Gods that we are."

We had walked miles and traversed much ground. We traveled in a way no human can truly fathom. As you put one foot in front of the other, the whole earth spins,  traveling miles in one stride. At the time I was so in awe of my new situation, I was quite dumbfounded and could not properly begin to take in everything that was happening. We eventually arrived at a place in-between. It was neither of the heavens nor of the earth and yet as above so below, so the landscape mirrored what was known to me.  We had journeyed into the Underworld and boarded a sailing barge.

The Shining One had said we would find the One That Slithers in the deepest of waters.  So I stood at the prow of the barge with my spear ready. At the first sign of the large iridescent scales, I struck without hesitation. The battle ensued for what seemed like hours. As I became covered in the beast’s gore, my muscles grew sore and the ship rocked in the mighty turbulence of the waters. ( I felt myself growing weaker and started to fear I would fail when the Shining One cast his light upon me giving me a strength I never dreamed possible. )  

When I thought all was lost, with one final blow, a great sound was released from the beast and the waters trembled no more. I had won, I had defeated the beast.  The Shining One looked at me with a sadness in his eyes, “You have defeated the Great Evil and have saved the world of man for yet another day but this victory comes at a price,” as a tear slid down his cheek.

I took the head of the Great Serpent as my victory trophy. We returned as we came, the light of dawn’s first rays lighting our way. I carried the head of the Great Serpent received much attention. When we had returned to my home we had a great entourage with us creating a spectacle upon my Father’s doorstep. My Father came out to investigate what all the excitement was about. Upon seeing the head of the Beast in my hands I saw pride for me in his eyes for the very first time. “Son,” he said loudly, "you do our family a great honor.”

It was in that moment that I had gained my Father’s love that I had lost my brother’s. The Wise Shining One kept his word and brought twin sisters from the Kingdom in the lower lands. Shortly thereafter, we were wedded. After a short while of peace and celebration, I was once again called upon to defeat the Great Slithering Beast. I parted sadly with my new bride, unsure if I were to return.

Alas, duty called and I was the only one with the strength to do what was needed. This soon became an endless cycle, for this beast was of no earthly making.  It would soon recover from its most grievous injuries and I would be called away yet again.  My wife grew tired of my absences and she started looking for companionship elsewhere.

My brother, having never forgotten how I replaced him in my Fathers eyes, plotted to replace me in my wife’s. I never blamed my sweet wife nor her calculating sister. I had been gone a particularly long time and my wife was fat with child. I was tired when I returned, but seeing her full of life made my heart soar.

It wasn’t until later that I learned that I wasn’t the only possible father. After a while, it began to eat at me that my brother had taken the only thing that had ever meant anything to me. I still continued to battle the beast, for it was a never-ending war. In time, our Father passed and my brother took his place. I realized one day that the Battle Of  The Beast was the only thing I had that my brother hadn’t taken from me. After a while, I could not bear to touch my wife, which drove her even more into the arms of my brother.  As my son grew I could not see myself in him.

I came to a place where I didn’t want to fight the Demon Beast anymore and the Demon spoke to me during one of our many battles. He told me to build a vessel fit for one person and bring my brother to him. The Beast will take it as a sacrifice and I would be free of my brother and his greediness.

I was weak, I was hurt and when I came home and found my brother in bed with my wife, I did as the Beast spoke. I crafted the finest vessel, gloating how it was made for me. When my brother sought to take it, as he had taken everything else, he was trapped. I gave him to the demon serpent, who drowned him and rent him to bits. I was free from my brother or so I thought…  

The Beast did take my brother to the Underworld, where he eventually rose to be King, while I united the upper and lower Kingdoms and created peace in our land.  Until my brother’s son wanted revenge for the loss of his father and the cycle started all over again.

For I am Set, and this is my story of how I became a God among men.

[nolongeractive---sorry-blog]

i’ve avoided talking about this my entire life, but like, i’m an adult now and this is my blog and i want to open up about my trauma for the very first time, okay? so um,

when i was a child, i was brainwashed and recruited into a cult. they call themselves all kinds of shit– apostolics, pentecostals, church of god– but they’re not christians no matter how much they want to believe they are! it’s a fucking cult, and like i said, i’ve never talked about this before so i’m going to use some “characteristics of cults” to help me explain my experiences within the cult

The group displays excessively zealous and unquestioning commitment to its leader and (whether he is alive or dead) regards his belief system, ideology, and practices as the Truth, as law.

while they don’t have one leader, each church’s pastoral line (yes, it’s usually biologically inherited) is viewed as the Truth, law, their word is 100% correct and they have no flaws (at least not flaws that can’t be corrected by Jesus)! the pastor is a healer and can make a paraplegic rise from their wheelchair and dance! the pastor can wish financial well-being on you and you’ll magically come into large amounts of money! the pastor can put his hand on your head and your headache will disappear instantly!

Questioning, doubt, and dissent are discouraged or even punished.

you are not to speak of doubt/questioning/dissent. all other religions and beliefs are wrong. only the beliefs of the church will save you. any doubts were very, very, very unspoken of and i would’ve been terrified to speak out against them.

Mind-altering practices (such as meditation, chanting, speaking in tongues, denunciation sessions, and debilitating work routines) are used in excess and serve to suppress doubts about the group and its leader(s).

they “speak in tongues”– meaning everyone has to pray by blabbering nonsense, and sometimes we would all stand in a circle and people would take turns blabbering nonsense, and they called it “Jesus speaking directly through [those people]”. speaking in tongues happened at every service. sometimes people would say “that person’s tongues are in [language] even though they can’t speak that language!” “that person’s tongues sound like they must be an ancient version of [language]!” they taught that tongues was the holy spirit speaking through us and they were an actual language somewhere in the world. i can literally guarantee you it was entirely gibberish!!!

The leadership dictates, sometimes in great detail, how members should think, act, and feel (for example, members must get permission to date, change jobs, marry, or leaders prescribe what types of clothes to wear, where to live, whether or not to have children, how to discipline children, and so forth).

we were not allowed to date outside of church. women could not cut their hair or wear pants, and men were encouraged to dress like they were going to church even if they weren’t. homosexuality was the ultimate abomination. you couldn’t have certain jobs. you couldn’t do drugs or drink alcohol, and those things were extremely wrong and made you a horrible person. you needed permission from your family (and sometimes the church) to date and marry.

The group is elitist, claiming a special, exalted status for itself, its leader(s) and members (for example, the leader is considered the Messiah, a special being, an avatar, or the group and/or the leader is on a special mission to save humanity).

they believe they’re the only people who are going to be saved and hold themselves up above other christians and other religions. people outside of the church aren’t truly happy and don’t truly love one another. i actually remember being taught that relationships outside of the church were doomed to fail because they couldn’t truly love one another if they weren’t pentecostal. it’s the church’s purpose to “save” as many people as possible because the rapture (end of the world, where all pentecostals are saved and all non-pentecostals are doomed to destroy one another and burn in hell for all eternity) is coming soon!! soon!! very soon!! perhaps obama is the antichrist!!

The group has a polarized us-versus-them mentality, which may cause conflict with the wider society.

again, we couldn’t date outside of the church. we were taught that we were the holiest of people. there were good people, and there were bad people, and we were the good people. everyone else was bad, evil, corrupt, sinning! our church was perfect and happy and nothing bad ever happened within it. everything outside was tainted and evil and scary. we were actually taught that people who believe in evolution were inherently racist because it meant they believed that nonwhite (more specifically, black) people were closer to apes than white people! yeah, seriously! we were taught that shit! we were also taught that Harry Potter was of the devil and rock music and shit was about satan lmao

The leadership induces feelings of shame and/or guilt in order to influence and/or control members. Often, this is done through peer pressure and subtle forms of persuasion.

the church would spread rumors about you if they didn’t think you were being “pure” enough. this happened to me and became the final straw in my leaving the church, actually. i wasn’t tithing (donating 10% of your income to the church, which was thoroughly documented btw) because 1. i was a fucking child and 2. i was dirt poor!! and they started spreading it around that i was cutting my hair and wearing jeans outside of church, which i wasn’t. they were constantly pitting members against members who weren’t “doing well enough” to serve the church

Subservience to the leader or group requires members to cut ties with family and friends, and radically alter the personal goals and activities they had before joining the group.

if you’re truly part of the church, you can’t be in contact with friends and family who aren’t, because they’re corrupt and will try to corrupt you. people were constantly pressured to stop talking to their family and friends who weren’t pentecostal. you had to minister to people and/or go on a “mission” (you go to poor countries and brainwash desperate people into believing in God). you were supposed to go to bible camp, retreats, etc. and you were supposed to attend church at least three times a week (mine usually met four times per week, and that’s excluding times we would visit sister churches in other cities)

The group is preoccupied with bringing in new members.

again, they center around brainwashing children, the poor, the weak, the vulnerable in any way, shape, or form

The group is preoccupied with making money.

they excommunicated A FUCKING CHILD for not donating 10% of my income lmao??? literally you had to donate birthday money, christmas money, your paycheck, mortgage/loans, whatever, any kind of income you had, 10% had to go to the church. and btw the church looked like shit but the pastoral family had 10 acres of land and nice, brand new, expensive shit, none of them had jobs outside of the church. i wonder where all the tithes went??? :-)

Members are expected to devote inordinate amounts of time to the group and group-related activities.

i touched on this one a bit ago but yeah basically all of your extracurricular activities were within the church and they discouraged you from participating in extracurricular activities at school or elsewhere

Members are encouraged or required to live and/or socialize only with other group members.

touched on this already

The most loyal members feel there can be no life outside the context of the group. They believe there is no other way to be, and often fear reprisals to themselves or others if they leave (or even consider leaving) the group.

this is extremely true and leaving them was, and still is, soooo fucking hard!!! they literally had me convinced that nobody outside of the church could be kindhearted. nobody outside of the church had the capacity to love. nobody outside of the church was trustworthy. nobody outside of the church wasn’t evil, and all of their thoughts/actions/etc. were tainted by the devil. you would never love or be loved. you would never find happiness. you would never be financially secure. you would never be healed if you were sick. oh, btw, a lot of people didn’t get treatment for their or their childrens’ conditions. like i said, we believed the pastor was a healer!

they also taught that people could have special abilities. one person could see a word over someone else’s head, that was whatever sin they’re struggling with. as mentioned, another person could put their hand on you and heal you, or another person could magically know another language. i remember a speech where a woman talked about how she had an abortion and she could hear the baby scream and stuff, and looking back, i now know that it was a performance based entirely around fearmongering. i remember so many fearmongering sermons, honestly. i used to take notes, so they’re really ingrained in my head, even after all these years

this is so cathartic but at the same time i’m anxious and shaking lmao! like, it’s been years, i know that none of what they taught is true and they can’t hurt me, but i left the cult scarred with PTSD, OCD, and anxiety. the reason i’m talking about all of this for the first time is because my new manager is in the cult. i saw her and just knew. i see people out in public and just know. it fills me with a feeling like i’m going to puke and i get overwhelmed and usually i can just go home, but this time, i can’t bc i’m at work :-) 

it prompted me to read stories from other ex-members of the cult and i was reminded of things like the term “backslider”, which was used to describe people who left the church and “went back to being ~worldly~” or whatever? and that children were conditioned to being afraid of the dark, afraid of being alone, afraid of demonic activity (especially in scary movies, which i still can’t watch to this day because even though i know they’re not actually scary, i was brainwashed into believing they were evil and if you watched them you’d be letting demons into your life and they would corrupt and kill you)

they made it impossible to make friends because all of your friends were in the church, so i and many other ex-members had and/or have a very difficult time developing and perfecting social skills. i was taught that swearing was evil. we were taught to say “oh my word” instead of “oh my god”, or other phrases. i’ve noticed that myself as well as other ex-members swear a ton and used “oh my god”, “jesus fucking christ”, etc. deliberately taking “god’s” name in vain and swearing to excess, as a means of therapy, or maybe defiance, or a combination of both from being so demonized by the church

apparently we all still struggle with flashbacks to the brainwashing songs we heard, learned, and sang. in general, we all seem to experience varying levels of PTSD, OCD, and anxiety as a direct result from the cult, which isn’t uncommon of cults, but it’s only recently that i’ve begun to allow myself to look back on it and recognize that it was a cult, it did this to me, and it’s fueled…many of my beliefs and interests, to put it quietly. i’m still not ready to talk about all of it. this is literally the most i’ve said about it in the last six years. i’ve never discussed it in detail. i’ve rarely allowed myself to think about it in detail. i have never told anyone about it directly– not friends, family, partners, therapists…nobody :-) 

so yeah here’s a lot of baggage unloaded lmao i’m going to try to relax now!!!! this is more than enough for today!!!!!

[hail--to-the-queen]

Marauders Era Headcannons

Ok so no one asked but these are mine. It’s really long, so sorry about that. A lot are based on inspo I’ve seen on Tumblr, tweaked to my liking, which is probably wrong but I just have all these feelings that I’ve gotta get out so here goes. If you see an idea that’s originally yours/you know who’s it is, please message me and I’ll credit your genius.

Peter

 Shortest marauder. like hella short. 

He wasn’t visibly muscled bc he liked food so damn much, but he wasn’t a creampuff either

preferred coffee over tea, and was the person who introduced coffee to Marlene

Funniest marauder. Could spin a tale/tell jokes like no one’s business. 

Towhead, tanned up nicely, brown eyes

was actually very particular about how his hair was combed/parted, but didn’t fuss about it openly *cough cough Sirius*

just didn’t get the hype behind Quidditch. sure, he liked it, but he couldn’t imagine letting a sport take over your life like James always did and even Sirius did during season

was actually hella perceptive and good at figuring things out about other people

like for real I think he was the first one to notice a lot; Remus’ condition, Sirius’ abusive home situation, when Lily’s feelings for James started to change, how James himself started to change

Was also the swiftest/sneakiest of all the marauders (rat!) and collected all of their intel

didn’t much care about school, and wanted to open a cafe in Diagon Alley after school

Had something of a talent for Divinations. Like, wasn’t a seer or anything, but he understood the theory and appreciated the art

fell in love with Marlene McKinnon in their 6th year, and her death in the first wizarding war (Mentioned in Lily’s letter to Sirius) is what pushed him over the edge and away from the Order. he was already struggling before then, but she grounded him and gave him something to fight for, and without her he just couldn’t handle anything. grew angry, bitter, resentful, flipped on the order and tore apart his friends. yuck.

  Remus

V tall. Tallest Marauder. Tallest student. certified tallboy.

Tea and chocolate and jumpers

smoker, but only right before and right after the full moon. it helps him cope

only swears when he’s well and truly angry

Brown hair with hints of copper that grows into a kind of mop. He manages it, somehow, even though it’s way out of style, and it just works

pale, brown eyes with gold in them

Messy to a fault, but somehow always has what he needs in the moment

LOVES quidditch, and attends every match especially because Sirius is a beater and damn just look at his arms

is the strategic brains behind the marauders operation. as much of a strategist as Ron is, Remus was too, and he was very good at planning things, especially things like breaking into filches office or putting potions in the Slytherin’s morning pumpkin juice that makes them all turn red and roar spontaneously  

Always studied, because if he didn’t put in the work he wouldn’t pull good grades

Forms a very close relationship with Lily in their 5th year when they’re both prefect

realized he was bi (and totally in love with Sirius) in his 4th year

Refuses to come out to his parents because they already have a broken son, and he didn’t want to expand on those feelings

tutors kids for chocolate bars or spare change whenever he has the time

was terrified of being made head boy, because he just knew he couldn’t handle it, and was relieved when it was James (bc he just knew Lily was a shoe-in for Head Girl)

Is the first person Lily actually admits her confused feelings about James to

Sirius

Second-shortest Marauder (much to his chagrin)

has excellent posture as a result (because if he slouches he’s the same height as Peter)

Long black hair, grey eyes, regal/sharp features. 

has a leather jacket that he picked up at a muggle consignment store when he was 14. it’s worn & covered in patches, and when his mother finds it in his closet his father uses the cruciatus on him

speaks excellent french. a side effect of Toujours Pur

Always paints his nails black or grey. When they chip, he paints over them, so it’s just layers and layers of paint

Starts to grow his hair out in the summer before his third year. Keeps it roughly shoulder length, and trims it himself after he had Emily Tefty teach him how

Incidentally, the summer before third year is when he stopped believing he could ever make amends with his parents. The only reason he went home after that was for Reg

Wants to live in London and work in a muggle garage

Is very smart, but doesn’t try. can ace every test though

is particularly gifted at CoMC

Smokes way more than he should

gets his first tattoo (a lion, what else) in Knockturn alley when he was 15. it paces and roars depending on his mood, and is on his ribcage, protecting his heart because he’s so afraid that one day he wont be able to protect his heart from his parents ideology 

realized he was Gay (and in love with Remus) in the start of their 5th year

was so terrified of that fact that he went on a year-long dating extravaganza, in which he dated and snogged every girl he could get to agree to go out with him (which was, of course, almost all of them) in an attempt to find someone he liked better than Remus. It failed.

Ran away from home for good after a particularly brutal beating between 5th and 6th year

cried for days when he heard about Reg getting marked

hates Snape because snape doesn’t have the shackles of a pureblood fundamentalist family, but actively seeks that lifestyle, while he would give anything to be free of it

James

Gets up every morning and goes for a run around the grounds, no matter how cold it is

eats healthy, but he’s a growing boy so a second helping of pudding isn’t going to kill him

Lives, breathes, eats, and sleeps quidditch. Wants to be a professional player someday and probably could have

half-hindu, so dark complexion, dark eyes and dark hair

keeps said hair wildly messy in a lighthearted rebellion against his family

has a massive soft spot for the house elves, and sneaks into the kitchen more often to visit with them than he does to get remus and himself a cuppa

is the literal life of the party

Has loved Lily since 2nd year

doesn’t understand why she doesn’t like him for a long time, but eventually he gets it   

is naturally smart/gifted, and doesn’t understand why Remus has to study all the time

Disliked Severus for a multitude of reasons; his closeness with Lily, his inclination towards the Pureblood agenda, the fact that he was a Slytherin and was proud of it. This made him an easy bullying target for James, but he only started to truly hate Severus after the mudblood incident 

is very careful with his belongings

Dated a cute Ravenclaw for the first 6 months of his 6th year, but eventually broke it off because Lily was single again because they just didn’t have that spark 

Was terrified when he was made head boy, just like he was terrified when he was made Quidditch captain the year before

Is literal Mr. Oblivious. Doesn’t realize the wolfstar situation, doesn’t realize that what he says has an impact on people, doesn't realize how many girls are interested in him, doesn’t realize that not everyone is as smart as he is, doesn’t realize when Lily’s feelings change.

literally peter has to spell out the wolfstar thing to him 

Is terrified of the mermaids in the Black Lake

Lily

the most feminist feminist who ever feministed 

Kept a muggle record player from her father that Remus helped her charm to work in Hogwarts during 4th year

Was definitely very close to being in love with Severus before the mudblood incident. He was her first kiss

she and Severus both made up their own spells, and correct their potions books with better instructions. Muffiato was her creation

Smart, but studies very hard nonetheless, Bc in the back of her mind she was terrified that someone someday will take away her wand

Actual queen of sarcasm

knitted in her spare time (the muggle way)

Long (like, can tuck it in her waistband) red hair, creamy skin (burns like a lobster in direct sunlight)

Cuts her hair after the mudblood incident because Severus always loved to play with it

this is 100% someone else’s idea, but i cant for the life of me find the post. If it’s your’s, or you know who’s it is, PLEASE message me and let me know and I’ll give them all the credit 

Ends up with a bob and scraggily bangs. Keeps it for a month, then magically grows it back out until it’s below her shoulder blades. Keeps the bangs, because she likes them

Figures out Remus’ secret after 3 months of prefect duty in 5th year. Tells him, just to make sure he doesn’t feel like he has to lie or hide from her.

 can banter back and forth with Peter so well that they leave the others in stitches every time

Loved her parents, but never had much of a relationship with her mother

Officially gave up on trying with Petunia in the summer before 4th year, when she threw a scarf Lily had knitted her for her birthday in the bin immediately upon opening it, because she was convinced Lily had knitted it with magic

fell in love with James somewhere in the middle of 6th year, and was terrified of it, because they had managed a truce/friendship and she was so afraid to mess that up

legitimately doesn't believe she’s good enough to be Head Girl

Fierce protector of all the muggleborn students 

Retreated into a shell of a person early in 6th year when her dad died of cancer. the marauders and Marlene took 2 months to try and get back to being herself

Dated Amos Diggory for the first 3 months of 6th year, but ultimately broke it off because of James because they just didn’t have that feeling

when Severus started sending her letters threatening to harm himself if she wouldn’t talk to him, she stopped opening them, and reported him to Slughorn as a suicide risk

Wanted to become a healer and totally could have

Marlene

Best friends with Lily since the first night of first year

Sucker for a funny guy

Talented artist, terrible in all of her courses (she only passes because of Lily)

dyslexic as hell

hated tea with a passion, but fell in love with coffee after Peter introduced it to her during their 2nd year

now she buys it from columbia (that and art supplies are the only things she shamelessly splurges/spends her family’s vast wealth on)

Is a pureblood, but her whole family rejects the doctrines, and she’s very proud of that. Especially after seeing what its like for Sirius to fight his family.

wants to become a wizard tattoo artist and totally could have

has a floral 1/2 sleeve she designed herself

short stature, wavy blonde hair, blue eyes

does commission work for students and faculty 

By 7th year, starts giving illegal frowned upon tattoos to students in her dorm (but only those of age). Lily turns a blind eye to this because she knows Marlene is clean and safe and damn good at what she does, and she feels the need to support her best friend’s dreams

Started to fall for Peter in 6th year, because he made her laugh

 See’s the good in (almost) everyone

original queen of the bat bogey hex

 Went on one date with Sirius to Hogsmede in their 5th year, during which they talked about tattoos and neither of them felt anything other than friendship

Keeps lots and lots of plants in her room (if she was ever good at any class, it was herbology. She just couldn’t take the tests/do the readings/write the essays)

had multiple piercings all the way up her ears

once hexed Lucius Malfoy’s hair off of his head for sneering at her for spending time with non-purebloods

served almost as many detentions (almost) as the marauders

commentated quidditch matches

Severus

Loved Lily since they were 9 and he saw her first do magic on the playground

He had pretty regal features, if he would just get his hair out of his face

he wasn’t really greasy, thats just something the marauders called him

Dark eyes, light complexion, long, straight, black hair

Was a very talented student, but really only cared about defense and potions

secretly hated the slug club and all it stood for, but was a member because he saw the value of networking

loved pepper imps, and would buy them whenever he had any extra money

was very good at budgeting

Had an abusive father who used to beat him, until one day when Severus was 7 and his father was chasing him with a belt. He made the china cabinet unscrew from the wall and crash down on his father

Refuses to let his mother buy him new clothes until he desperately needs them, because he knows how expensive they are and can’t stand the thought of her going without because of him

Hates James from the moment he shows any interest in Lily

See’s Lily as a possession to be hoarded 

Refuses to acknowledge that his love for her conflicts with his pure blood agenda

legitimately believes he can have both, even if that means hiding her away. He even draws up plans of how he would accomplish this

Loves to play with her hair

Wrote Lily letters following the incident in which he threatened to harm himself if she wouldn’t talk to him. She never did, and neither did he.

Figured out Remus’ secret in 5th year after Sirius gave him a huge hint, and was basically forced to make an unbreakable vow with Dumbledore that he would never tell anyone

[deactivated4179291]

The Cure - (H.S AU) Part 17 - “Remember me?”

Maverie’s POV

Set out on a mission, I speed-walked throughout the lobby in search of Addilyn.

turning every which way until I spotted her blonde head sitting on the bench in front of the flowers outside the center. I quickly made my way towards the front door, without a moment to lose. I felt my palms grow sweaty as I played the potentially horrible ways in which the conversation could go. I opened the door hesitantly, and walked slowly up to the bench.

“Hey,” I said quietly so as not to startle her. Her gracious welcoming nature only made me feel worse for what I’d done as she sent me a soft smile, “can I sit?” She nodded, scooting to the right so I could join her. I sat, and took a deep breath as I looked down at my hands and fiddled with my fingertips. “I don’t really know where to start,” I confessed. I turned to look at her by my side and she was staring intently, nodding for me to continue. I felt her hand press to my back as she rubbed circles soothingly being betrayed by her motherly nature. A hand I didn’t deserve. “Addilyn, I’m so sorry for how I acted I-“

She cut me off by wrapping her arms around me and hugging her. I wrapped mine around her as well and closed my eyes. “I know, sweetie,” she whispered. Over her shoulder I noticed Harry through the window. From the front of the convention center, if you were to look in you could see just about the entire lobby. Harry reached the bottom of the stairs and ran a hand through his hair. His jaw was clenched and there was only a towel wrapped around his waste. He walked angrily into the men’s room. I brushed off his behavior and pulled away from Addilyn.

“I forgive you,” she said placing a hand on my face gently. “thank you for your apology.” She nodded. I smiled and returned the gesture.  “I actually have something for you,” she said surprisingly. She reached to her side and grabbed something, swiveling back around to me. A Book…

“Is that?-“

“It’s a journal. It’s empty, but I thought that maybe you would enjoy it. Maybe it would keep you close to Mason,” she said softly. I smiled widely at the thought, grasping the perfectly sized book in my hand. “the pages aren’t line, either so you can draw pictures, write your thoughts, anything you want.” She nodded enthusiastically. I smiled, running a finger along the spine, and flipped the fabric hardcover and saw my name carved into it in perfect cursive letters. I admired the work and determined that it had to have been done with a fine tipped knife.

“this is…,” I shook my head at a loss for words, “perfect,” I said to Addilyn, “thank you.”

“Well, don’t thank me,” she shook her head after her quiet statement, “it was all Harry’s idea,” she confessed. My eyes grew wide, and I felt my eyebrows knit in confusion. “He’d never admit this, but, he taught my son everything about writing,” she added, nodding to Masons journal at my side on the bench. My journal was identical to his, down to the name carved into the spine of the cover. The only difference was that his book was tattered and red, whilst mine a faded robbins-egg blue faded at the edges. I smiled and hugged Addilyn once more.

The rest of the day was fairly uneventful. Harry had begun teaching me how to throw and fight with knives, and then tried to help me improve my hand-to-hand combat skills. After working up a decent sweat, Harry called it a day as the moon began to shine through the skyline. He showed me where the showers were in the Women’s locker room, and helped me make the water run. The sight of fresh water make me sigh in content. I was reminded of Harry’s presence when he snickered at the sound and shook his head in amusement. I felt heat rise to my cheeks turning a pink tint. I looked to him at my side awkwardly waiting for him to leave so that I could shower, and he nodded.

“I’ll be in the Mens’ locker room, if you need anything I think Addilyn mentioned some erm toiletries in the cabinets under the sink,” he murmured scratching the back of his head…he was talking about pads and tampons. The awkward way in which he danced around the subject made me bite my lip so as not to snicker. I didn’t want him to feel any more uncomfortable with the situation than he already did – that would just be cruel.

“Thanks” I nodded with a polite smile. He turned to leave and I couldn’t help waiting any longer. I discarded my T-shirt, and was left in my sports bra and black leggings. I looked over my shoulder to make sure he was gone before slipping off the rest of my clothing. Bare, I stepped under the warm steamy showerhead and allowed the warm droplets to rain upon my skin. I grabbed the small tube of body wash that sat on the ledge of the tile wall which separated the individual showers. I had to step on my tip toes to reach it, but smiled when it made contact with my skin as I lathered my body in circular motions. Nothing felt as amazing as a shower after being covered in grime, and sweat. I felt my tense muscles relax instantly as I watched the dirty water swirl into the drain at my feet. After shampooing and conditioning my hair I allowed myself to just enjoy the steam for a few moments before turning the nozzle in order to save water. I sighed, and stepped onto the tile floor, walking over to the shelf of towels I grabbed one and wrapped it tightly around me. As a result, my breasts pushed upward, and when I bent down to grab my musty clothes I clutched the fabric tightly so it would not reveal anything to any passerby who decided to walk into the women’s locker room.

With my grubby clothes in my left hand I clutched the towel with my right and walked through the exit of the locker room. I couldn’t wait to close my tired eyes after a long day’s work.

I ended up throwing on a cotton sports bra that was more for lounging than for sport with its spaghetti straps, and a pair of black fabric shorts with white trim. I slipped into a  light gray camisole and called it a night. I brushed through my wet hair, and plopped down onto the couch with a tired sigh emitting past my lips. I shot upward at the sound  of stumbling and laughter. I slowly approached the door and peered out into the lobby. Mitch had an arm wrapped around Harry’s shoulder, and Harry was practically carrying his entire boy weight towards their room. He must have been drunk by the way he was giggling like a schoolgirl, and repeatedly telling Harry that he was his best friend. Harry was biting back laughter as they disappeared into the other conference room.

Harry walked Mitch over to one of the couches and helped Mitch lie down before propping him on his side. He then sat on one of the armrests, with a bottle of what looked like whisky in one hand, and a button down shirt left unbuttoned, revealing his perfectly toned body to my prying eyes. I bit my lip at the sight of the subtly happy trail that lead downward into his black jeans. I saw the bottle brought up to his lips as he threw his head back enjoying a sip before looking over to a very passed out Mitch. I leaned against the doorframe with the side of me head resting on the cold metal, and my arms crossed, shaking my head at the sight before me as my cheeks rose into a smile. Harry rested the bottle on his thigh, then looked forward, and I had been caught. He eyed me curiously and out of my timid nature, I looked away sheepishly and shook my head, and walked back to the couch, lying down. I pulled my blanket over my body, and rested my cheek against my hand, closing my eyes. Still, somehow, even with my eyes closed I knew he was staring at me with that same pensive look under the moonlight. My eyes peeked open slightly, and he half-cocked a smile, looking down to Mitch before pushing off of the temporary seat. He effortlessly looked so strikingly attractive as he sauntered straight towards me slowly, peering over to Addilyn who was sound asleep. Facing the wall again.

I felt a breeze as he plopped down beside the couch. He leaned against it with his back whilst I rested my head just inches from him. He looked over his shoulder and our faces were within breathing distance. I readjusted my head against my palm and smiles at him silently. He had changed so drastically since I met him and I knew it only made me like him more. I knew how I felt about him, but I was doing my best to push it away.

“Can I ask you something?” I whispered. He rested his chin against the couch after nodding briefly. “do you ever have nightmares?” I was of course referring to mine, and felt somewhat childish for asking such a question. He frowned thoughtfully and shook his head no.

“Not really,” he sighed, shifting himself he pulled his knees up and rested his arms on them, “I guess ‘ve never really been scared of much, though. What about you?” he asked quietly, “what is Maverie Jensen scared of?” My heart raced at the way my name rolled so effortlessly off of his tongue.

“Losing people,” I said shakily at a whisper. I searched his eyes and found an endless sea of thought.

“Yeah,” he looked away for a second then captured my eyes with his, “yeah, ‘m scared of that too.” He confessed. I was at a loss – sure, Harry and I had had our moments but I’d never felt this close to him. Both literally and emotionally. “you should get some rest, tomorrow’s a big day,” he whispered, quickly modifying the subject. I nodded closing my eyes, as I heard him standing up.

“Wait,” I whispered anxiously. He looked over his shoulder cautiously, and eyed my hand that wrapped around his tattooed arm.  “C-can, uhm,” I stuttered retracting my hand “can you stay?” I asked, closing my eyes, in a bashful attempt to convince him. His eyebrows raised somewhat surprised by my proposal. “I just, uh-“ I pushed my hair behind my ear with my free hand, come on Maverie get it together, “I don’t have night terrors when you’re around…the other night I slept like a baby.” He nodded, with a blank expression, before grabbing the extra blanket, and lying down next to the couch. The whole time he sat he eyed me in an attentive manner. I looked over to see if Addilyn was asleep, and rested my head back down. My eyelids fluttered to a close, and this time, they stayed that way.

The sun blared brightly through the skyline dragging me into consciousness. I groaned, rubbing my eyes. Today was the day. Today we would get justice both for Mason and for Harry’s family. I looked to my side and found Harry still peacefully asleep, and laughed inside at the sight of him wit his mouth parted, his right hand resting next to the bottle of Jack Daniels. He looked even more handsome in his peaceful slumber. His lips plumper, and his eyelashes that graced him with the face of an angel. I got up and packed all my things, knowing that within a matter of hours, our lives were going to change. Though dangerous, we knew the risks, and we all faced what lay ahead with our heads held high, for Mason.

Within the next hour we all stood in a circle around the square table with the map as Harry ran over the plan he had devised. He had pinpointed two different locations in the area which Murphy and his people could be hiding out, and evaluated the varying reasons – sources of water, food, etc.

“Here,” he said circling an old prison by the lake just outside the city with an old red permanent marker, “or here,” he circled an old abandoned high school, “these are the two places they would be,” he placed his fingertips on the paper and slid it in a circle so we could all take in the two different routes.

“How’ll we know which one they’re staying in once we’re out there though?” Martin asked.

“Well, you two don’t have to worry about that because you’re not going,” Harry said looking between the elderly man and his pregnant daughter. She looked upset by his statement but I couldn’t agree more with Harry.

“Don’t give me that look,” Harry groaned rubbing his forehead with one hand, “you’re nearly five months pregnant I’m not risking you or your child’s life, and Martin your leg gets worse by the minute, besides someone has to stay back and protect her,” his hand gestured to the blonde woman. She crossed her arms at him, then looked at me asking for backup. I shook my head politely,

“I have to agree with Harry, Addilyn…it’s too dangerous…” I said quietly, “I’m sorry,” I shrugged. She shook her head in disapproval, and walked off. Martin glanced over his shoulder at his stubborn daughter and rolled his eyes, before limping around to embrace me briefly. He placed a hand on the side of my face and smiled.

“Be careful,” he nodded, though it came out more as a question. I nodded, and his hand slipped away as he turned and followed suit. I turned to my side to find Harry holding out my gun to me. I clasped the cold metal object in my hand carefully, and slipped it into the back of my jeans after checking that the safety was in tact.

“Let’s do this,” I nodded.

The city was dark, cold, wet, and empty. The rain had left a seen glow against the pavement under the golden sun, as we had taken shelter in an old office complex. One of the spaces on the third floor which was furnished with a fancy wooden desk, and somewhat shattered windows. Harry was standing with his back to the ledge of the wall where I connected with the window, and his arms were crossed as he stared in concentration at the structure. The school was a mere twos tory building that was wider than it was tall, and was surrounded by grass and a series of parking lots. The entirety of the space made us pretty certain that there was no one taking up residence there, but we all agreed to wait an hour and monitor closely for any signs of movement.

Whilst Harry kept a close eye I explored the small consignment space, weaving between the various metal shelves, until towards the back of the store, and I discovered several bottles of liquor. I quietly slipped them into my bag, in case they would be of use to us, and wove back around towards some random accessories – silly hats, sunglasses, and my eyes landed on some red bandanas. It was then that I got an idea. I grabbed al 6 bandanas, and rushed back to Harry as Mitch guarded the back staff door with his gun at the ready, eyeing me curiously. Harry turned to look at me curious at my sudden sense of urgency. “I have an idea,” I whispered with a devious smile, turning my head to the side of the cash register where there was a rack of several Bic lighters in varying colors.

We quickly hustled towards the prison with only an hour until sunrise. Our guns were clasped between two hands at our sides as we cautiously jogged through the alleyways and varying roads leading to the prison compound just outside the city in the rural border. This time we had holed up in an old office tower that overlooked the compound. I instantly knew we had found the right location as I nudged Harry and pointed to the infected that vigorously shook the chain-link fence which had barbed wire wrapping around the top. The space was ominous as it looked dangerous with the sharp complex security, and the overall dark essence of the flat single story building. In the daytime it stood out like a sore thumb due to the dark gray exterior paint but surely without sufficient lighting, we would have some trouble spotting the building.

We slid inside the door to the empty office building, and climbed about two flights of stairs to give us a vantage point whilst we searched the building for anything useful. Harry and I rummaged through desk drawers as Mitch guarded the door once again.

“I was thinking,” I came clean, “ and…what if there’s kids in there Harry? Innocent people…you said yourself he brainwashed a lot of people into following him. I don’t want to shed innocent blood in a hypocritical attempt to prove to Murphy that shedding innocent blood can no longer go unpunished,” I stared directly at the drawers as I bent down and opened the last one. Inside were two box-like handheld objects with antennae sticking our of the top.

“You’re right,” he murmured reaching down to take one of the twin objects in his hands, eyeing it curiously. He looked up and nodded Mitch over to us, then looked me in the eye with a smirk.

“I’ve got an idea too,” he confessed. Mitch made his way over to us as we shut the drawer, and I stared at Harry with curious intent as Mitch took the object from my hand gently, and smiled at it. “can you put us in contact with their intercom?” Harry asked him, biting his lip.

“Course I can,” Mitch raised his eyebrow cockily before walking away into the managers office with the device. He began fiddling with the buttons swiftly as Harry placed a gentle hand on my back and ushered us into the room with Mitch, shutting the door behind him quietly, before we all sat in the shadows by the window and watched carefully for the man of the hour. I sat against the carpeted floor, with my arms wrapped around my knees as Harry sat across from me and Mitch sat with his back against the desk, protected by the shadow cast by the soon fading sun. There was static coming from the device as he fiddled with all the buttons and knobs, turning them restlessly.

“Le’me see those things you found at the store?” Harry asked, reaching for my backpack. I slid the straps off and laid the flat side against the floor sliding it to him gently causing the bottles to clink slightly. He eyed the bag curiously and sent me an intrigued look. He unzipped the bag promptly, and dug his hand into its pouch, his eyes growing in surprise as he pulled out the first bottle of liquor.

“Didn’t know you were an alcoholic, love,” he snickered, placing the bottle on the floor beside him. I rolled my eyes playfully and returned my attention to the prison as he reached in and revealed two more bottles placing them alongside their triplet. He then dug his hand back in and pulled out the six bandanas, tossing them next to the liquor, and then unzipped the front pouch and pulled out the three lighters. He placed them carefully on the ground beside the piles of fabric and alcoholic content then eyed me with an expression that I read as both surprise and dare I say admiration.

“How the hell do you know how to make a Molotov?” I asked frowning as he looked at the contents sprawled across the floor beside him. I shrugged and smiled somewhat, thinking of my sister as I opened my mouth to answer him whilst tying my hair back with a ponytail holder that I kept on my wrist at all times. Just as I was about to gush about my big sister, the radio sounded with the announcement that dinner was being served in a cafeteria of the prison as we all turned to what Mitch and Harry referred to as a walkie-talkie, by the un-missable recognition of Murphy’s gravely voice. Surely all of his followers began to march to some of their last meals like robots as Mitch turned of Harry and said, “its ready,” with a nod, tossing it to him. Harry caught the device with ease careful not to mess with the alignment of the bells and whistles as he grabbed it by the antennae, and then held it outward towards me.

“Do what you need to do,” he gave an assuring nod, as he furrowed his brows and bit his cheek in concentration. I hesitantly clasped the box like object in my hand and turned to Mitch over my right shoulder, as he explained which button to hold down and gesture for me to hold the device to my mouth. I look Harry straight in the eyes searching for assurance and he gives it to me with an encouraging nod. With that I pull the device closer and hold the button down with a smirk.

“Hey Murphy, remember me? The girl you tried to kill four days ago.”

[crystalline-lifestream]

Awakening

This is just a rough snippet of a complex crossover I came up with the other day, born of too little sleep and too much chocolate. I’m certain I’m not the only one who’s noticed how well VII and XV work together, from referring to their planet by the same name (albeit differently translated) to the existence of a meteor.

Anyway, the gods only know if I’ll ever actually continue this; I only have a bare-bones idea. But for now, here’s that idea in prose, posted here because I don’t know whether this will actually be the first installment.

Even if it had never happened before, Aerith supposed she really shouldn’t be all that surprised to find a couple vagrants asleep in her flowerbed. Rather, she should be more surprised that it had taken this long for anyone to move into the abandoned church.

Insomnia was good at advertising itself to be some sort of utopia compared to country life, but living on the outskirts and walking through the slums, Aerith had seen plenty that didn’t line up with the civilized image of the Crown City. Thanks to her, so had the prince, but Noct had only just turned twenty. It wasn’t as though he could do anything about the corruption except keep it in mind for whenever he was king, and that wasn’t something he liked to think about.

Of course, less heavily enforced regulations did have their advantages, so it wasn’t all bad. The government hadn’t bothered either fixing this place up or tearing it down, for instance. But the downsides could be deadly. The officials out here tended to accept bribes, and they didn’t care too much if you went missing. Especially if you were an immigrant and/or homeless, like these two.

But as Aerith paced forward cautiously, studying their appearances, she found that on closer examination—if only by a few yards—they didn’t really look like any street people she’d seen. They seemed about as unfortunate, and they (or at least their clothes) could definitely do with a bath, but something about them felt… different, even at this distance. Maybe it was because they hadn’t set up camp; they had only one large pack between them, and it lay some distance away, untouched.

Daring to approach further, Aerith skirted around the edge of the flowerbed, scrutinizing the strangers carefully. Both of them appeared to be around her age, give or take a couple years. Still thinking of herself as a girl, it seemed a little wrong to call them men, and there was something boyish about both their faces. Maybe it was the fact that both of them were clean-shaven, which meant they’d had access to shaving equipment recently.

One of them had longish black hair, and was sprawled among the flowers in such a way that he seemed to take up much more space than he actually did. Which was saying something, since he was so tall and well-muscled. He was dressed in a tank top, durable trousers, and well-worn combat boots. His outfit was dusty, but oddly new—far from threadbare, and without too many rips.

The other boy was blond, in a plain formerly-white t-shirt and jeans, as well as the same make of combat boots. Though his clothes were in much the same condition as the other boy’s, his body looked a little bit weaker. Well… maybe a lot weaker. In fact, he looked distinctly unwell, pale and skinny and lying limp as a corpse. He was still clearly alive, judging by the deep rise and fall of his chest, but Aerith had her doubts as to whether he would ever wake up.

There was nothing else to be done but try.

Aerith cleared her throat uncertainly. Mom had always advised her not to talk to strangers, and this pair was nothing if not strange, but her intuition had always been uncanny—to the point that even Ignis had praised it. Besides, they didn’t appear to have any weapons handy, nor did they look too malicious in sleep.

“Hello…?”

The black-haired boy gave a faint groan, turning over and curling up almost defensively. “Five more minutes, Cindy,” he yawned, lapsing into unintelligible mumbling… but then frowned, perhaps recognizing that Aerith’s voice was different than the one he had imagined, and opened one eye.

Instantly, they both flew wide—a vivid shade of blue, somewhere between Noct’s and Prompto’s—and he sat up. “O-oh, sorry,” he said, scratching the back of his head, and suppressed another yawn. “Must’ve been dreaming. We’ll get out of your hair.”

Aerith shook her head. “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “You’re not really in the way. I just… wanted to make sure you two were okay.” She nodded toward the boy’s blond companion. “He doesn’t look so good.”

“Yeah, uh,” said the black-haired one, getting to his feet, with an expression somewhere between sad and uncomfortable. “He’s been kinda… out of commission, lately. Long story.”

“Is that why you’re in the Crown City?” asked Aerith, tilting her head, and the boy nodded. “You’re in the wrong part of town for medical attention. Only a couple clinics around here, and they’re not really the best-equipped. But,” she added, “on the plus side, they might treat him even if you two don’t have identification. And they might accept late payment, or other kinds of trades.”

“Might?”

Aerith nodded. “Depends on who you see, and how generous they’re feeling.”

The boy scuffed a foot thoughtfully against a splintering floorboard. “That so,” he said. “I thought Insomnia was supposed to be, like…”

“Organized?” asked Aerith. “Yeah, they like advertising the middle- and upper-class parts, which are nice if you can afford them. But lower-class is lower-class no matter where you are, and Insomnia’s no exception.”

Nodding, the boy cast his gaze around as if in search of a change in subject. “Nice place you got here, though.”

Aerith laughed. “Oh, it’s not mine,” she said, placing her hands behind her back. “Just a church on the outskirts. But I did plant the flowers you decided to sleep in,” she added, eyeing her partially ruined flowerbed. It’d take awhile for them to recover from being crushed like that.

The boy’s eyes widened as he followed her gaze, and he grimaced apologetically. “Sorry about that,” he said. “I just figured they might help with the smell. I’m Zack, by the way,” he added, extending his hand, and Aerith reached out and shook it. If his physique hadn’t already convinced her he was used to hard labor, his calluses definitely did. “And… that’s Cloud.”

“Cloud?” echoed Aerith, frowning. “Like…”

“Puffs in the sky, yeah,” finished Zack, a bite of impatience in his voice, as though he’d had this conversation many times. “C’mon, half the names in Lucis are just as weird if you un-translate ’em from the ancient language. Like, for example—what’s yours?”

Aerith suppressed a laugh with difficulty. “Aerith.”

“Oh,” said Zack, brought up short as she shattered his assumption. “Okay, fine. Never mind. But King Regis!” he continued, determined to prove his point. “His name is literally ‘King King’! How is that any better than ‘Cloud’?”

The way Zack said ‘half the names in Lucis’ made Aerith think he wasn’t from inside the kingdom, but she chose not to mention it. He didn’t really fit her image of a spy, after all, and it seemed too early in their acquaintance to ask abrasive and invasive questions like that. “Never said it was,” she said, mustering a small smile. “Now, come on. I’ll take you two to the nearest clinic.”

Zack hesitated for a split second as though meaning to say something, but then nodded. “Thanks, Aerith,” he said, bending to sling one of Cloud’s arms around his neck, and hauled him to his feet.

Effortless as he made it seem (though his cargo was admittedly lighter than it should have been), Aerith could not stand idly by, and rushed forward to help support Cloud’s other side. But as soon as she grasped his arm to steady him, light sparked to life at her fingertips.

Gasping, she snatched back her hand as though she had been burned, though the only sensation she felt was a ticklish tingling. What was that? “Whoa!” exclaimed Zack, almost dropping Cloud, but caught him again the second he started slipping from his grasp. “You didn’t tell me you were the Oracle!”

“I—I’m not!” insisted Aerith, staring at her shaking hands, but Zack was busy staring at Cloud out the corner of his eye. At first, Aerith didn’t understand why, but then she heard a faint moan, and saw him stir faintly.

Zack turned to face Aerith, bright eyes sharpening. “Do it again,” he ordered, his demeanor taking such an abrupt turn for the authoritative that Aerith could only blink at him. He seemed to realize how sudden his transition was, however, because his expression immediately softened again as he added, “Please.”

But Aerith couldn’t move. “Does he have… the plague?” she asked, eyeing them both anxiously. As a relatively enclosed space, the capital was off-limits to everyone with plague symptoms, to prevent it from spreading through the entire city. And as much as Aerith hated the immigration policies, she had to admit they were effective. To her knowledge, there had never been a single case of plague in Insomnia.

Except for Cloud, now.

“I don’t know,” said Zack. “But if he does…” He trailed off, biting his lip as he glanced aside, then looked back into Aerith’s eyes earnestly. “Please, Aerith. I’ll do anything. He hasn’t surfaced in years.”

Years? Aerith looked at Cloud with new eyes; no one deserved to spend so much of their life unconscious. Her sympathetic feet moved before she gave the order, and she approached tentatively, reaching toward him once more. If her powers really were like the Oracle’s, maybe she could help him after all.

She flinched as the light glowed softly back into existence with their proximity, but persisted this time, and Cloud stirred more decisively. And then, quite suddenly, the light vanished, and his eyes flew open.

“Sephiroth!” he gasped, twitching, and clutched desperately at his chest. “Zack, I—I’m so sorry! I couldn’t sav—” A coughing fit cut him off, and he retched, but nothing came of it.

Zack, heedless of his friend’s disorientation, pulled Cloud into a tight hug, but Aerith frowned in confusion—grateful, despite herself, to have been given something to think about that didn’t involve her heretofore unseen magical abilities. Sephiroth? As in, the infamous imperial soldier, possessed of inhuman strength? Curiouser and curiouser.

If not for Aerith’s feeling that Zack and Cloud weren’t from Lucis, she’d guess them to be refugees from one of the several villages he had helped lay to waste. Except that Sephiroth had met his end almost three years ago, if the reports were to be believed. Though, these two certainly did seem traumatized enough…

There was no trace of Zack’s sudden turn for the commanding amid his happy tears. It had probably been out of worry, the way Gladio sometimes got around Noct, but… it had felt almost like he was used to giving those kinds of orders. “It’s okay,” whispered Zack, hugging Cloud more tightly still, and Cloud rested a feeble hand on his upper arm by way of reciprocation. “We’re safe now, in the Crown City. You don’t have to worry about a thing.”

It occurred to Aerith that she was witnessing what must be an incredibly touching moment, but lacked any of the context required to make it meaningful. Still, she supposed she was glad to have helped reunite a pair of friends. Or more than that, she thought, observing the tear or two streaking down Zack’s face, trailing into the corners of his smile. She wasn’t one to judge.

When their embrace showed no sign of letting up, Aerith cleared her throat pointedly. Far be it from her to interrupt, especially since it kept them from reminding her that she was apparently magical, but her increasing number of questions demanded answers. “So,” she began, as Zack finally let Cloud go. “Are you two refugees, or something?”

“Y-yeah,” said Zack, visibly uncomfortable, and ran a hand through his hair. “You could say that.”

“I could also say that you said you’d do anything if I helped wake up your boyfriend,” said Aerith, putting her hands on her hips. (Cloud looked irked at first, but then he looked sick, and said nothing.) “Come on, I want to know your story. I’ll even throw some food and rest into the bargain, if you come home with me.”

Aerith didn’t make a habit of inviting strangers into her private abode, but she wasn’t sensing any malice from these two. Call it a hunch, but one of them looked like he’d barely be able to walk, and the other of them had gotten childishly indignant over naming conventions. And had immediately offered to get out of her way upon waking up.

Besides, the house was miraculously free. Mom was spending the afternoon downtown, so she’d be out of danger if things went south. Prompto would be coming over for the day as soon as he finished his chores, and he could lend a hand if anyone gave her any trouble. And if things went really wrong, Aerith had friends in high places. (But she preferred not to resort to name-dropping.)

Letting out a long breath, Zack glanced over at Cloud. “What do you think?”

“Up to you.”

Zack heaved an exaggerated sigh, but didn’t seem too surprised. “And here I was, looking forward to having you make some of the decisions again,” he said, shaking his head, and looked back up at Aerith. “All right, it’s a deal. I’m a man of my word. But if you wanna know everything,” he added, eyes sparkling with sudden mischief, “I’m gonna have to ask just one more favor.”

Aerith narrowed her eyes. “What favor?”

Zack grinned, and Cloud managed an eyeroll, and that was when Aerith knew that cultivating their acquaintances would be a terrible—wonderful—mistake. “How about one date?”