#i’m really proud of the pose despite having never drawn anything like it

[silverdragonazura]

Day 8: Teeth

[lloydskywalkers]

Heyo! Hope your doing exceptionally well, wonderful and ur staying safe! I was reading ur little oneshots for the movie! Verse and instantly fell in love! Think u have anymore for Kai and Lloyd? (But u don’t need to listen to this, obviously hehe) Have a splendid day!

ahhH thank you, I hope you’re doing well too!! :D oh man it’s been so long since i’ve written something for movie-verse, but I’ve had this little snippet in my head for a while so I guess it’s as good a time as any (and it is, of course, about kai and lloyd bc when is it noT)

it’s a little different than what i usually write, for movie-verse? but i hope it fits the bill! (takes place pre-movie, btw)

Of all his friends, Lloyd thinks Kai is most like the sun. Not just for his codename, and the enthusiasm with which he brings fire to the team, metaphorically and far too often literally, but for how bright he is. Kai reminds Lloyd of the sun at full force, strong and blazing and staunchly refusing to let anyone hide from his warmth. An endlessly combusting ball of stubbornness and passion.

Kai also reminds Lloyd of the sun in the way that he possesses about the same amount of brain cells the sun does, which is zero, because the sun has no brain — much like Kai.

“Hey, ru—de, ow, stop—”

Kai’s petulant response strangles off in cracked pain as Lloyd hushes him, simultaneously pulling the alcohol-soaked cloth from his arm with a sympathetic wince.

“Sorry, sorry,” Lloyd murmurs, wringing the edge of the cloth. “But I’ve gotta — it’ll get infected, if you don’t—”

“Nah, s’okay,” Kai says, breath hissing out through clenched teeth. He gives Lloyd a wavering smile that could almost be encouraging, were he not bleeding over Lloyd’s faded bedspread. “Just caught me off guard, I’m good now. ‘Sides, the — the stitches are gonna be worse, so—”

“It won’t be that bad,” Lloyd promises him, cleaning the rest of the deep slashes that run across Kai’s arm as quickly as he can. The lower ones aren’t so bad — he could get away without stitches, maybe. It’s the uppermost one that scares Lloyd, cutting deep enough into Kai’s skin to pose a threat. And Lloyd has no intention of leaving Kai anywhere near in danger, especially with the reason he’s hurt in the first place.

Lloyd swallows against the thick lump that suddenly forms in his throat, trying to banish the flood of emotions that have been rising since the battle against his father’s forces earlier. Surprise, shock, gratitude—? A swirling maelstrom of a deep-seated kind of aching warmth Lloyd is utterly unfamiliar with. It leaves him off-kilter, and words don’t come easily as they usually do.

Not that words ever come easily to Lloyd, but normally he isn’t quite this stuttering. Maybe. He hopes not. Maybe he’s just hyperaware right now, after everything, and he always sounds this embarrassing.

“I promise,” Lloyd continues, yanking himself from his thoughts as he busies with the needle. “I’ve got a lot of experience, and I’ll be gentle.”

Kai watches Lloyd threading the needle with a thinly-veiled fear, but he nods, the bravado Lloyd’s more familiar with making its way across his face. “Nice,” he says. “I trust you, Dr. Lloyd.”

Lloyd’s hands falter with the needle for a moment, before he resumes sterilizing it, ducking his head. Kai sounds like he means it — Kai sounds like he means everything he says, but the way he says trust hits differently, for Lloyd.

They’ve only been a team for few months, now. Not very long at all, to form any kind of trust in the son of your greatest enemy. Lloyd’s been going to school with some of the same people since kindergarten, and they’ve never looked at him with anything kinder than hatred, much less trust. And yet Kai is here, offering him his bleeding arm in Lloyd’s tiny room, trusting him to repair the damage he only took because he was protecting Lloyd.

Lloyd doesn’t understand. He doesn’t — people don’t — but his team—

They listened to him. Actually listened to him, to Lloyd. They actually listen to him in general, have since they were all thrown together in this odd little grouping, but it hasn’t quite hit home in the way it did tonight, when he’d snapped orders at them in barely-restrained panic, Kai’s blood staining his fingers as he’d staunched the knife wounds meant for him.

They hadn’t flinched back at his raised voice. Lloyd never raises his voice — he’s learned to keep it quiet, soft, unassuming. Even the slightest slip of frustration is enough to send anyone around him murmuring in suspicion, eyes narrowing and hissed whispers of just like his father filling the air.

Lloyd’s voice had been sharp and strained, barking across the rooftop, and they’d listened. No one flinched back, no eyes widened in fear — they’d just listened. They’re still listening, carrying out Lloyd’s orders without question, and it’s — it’s dizzying, if Lloyd had to put a word to it.

Cole and Zane are taking care of clean-up — something Lloyd will have to thank them for later, profusely. Neither were particularly happy about letting Kai out of their sights, but Cole and Zane are better at keeping each other steady than anyone else. It was the right call, Lloyd knows it was. Hopes it was.

But Lloyd hasn’t been having much faith in his calls, tonight. Not after Kai went down.

He swallows, focusing on the sounds reverberating from behind his closed door. Nya and Jay are talking with his mother, Nya’s louder tones easier to hear as she laughs. Lloyd knows her well enough to catch the strain in it, but he knows it’ll fool his mother. They’re distraction — Lloyd’s house was closest, and he’s got the best supplies stashed there. No one questions why he’s the one with the fully stocked medical kit, but Lloyd suspects they’ve all drawn their own conclusions.

He wishes they’d believe him, when he says it’s because he’s worried for them. He grew up with Wu as his uncle, who picks fights on a daily basis — with Morro as his cousin, who picks fights on an hourly basis. Lloyd knows the importance of having the good kind of medical supplies.

He finishes prepping the needle, squeezing Kai’s wrist briefly in warning. Lloyd’s not usually a tactile person — not that anyone would let him be — but he knows Kai soaks up touch like a starved sponge, and Lloyd’s desperate to give any kind of comfort he can before he starts with the needle.

Kai swallows, fixing his eyes firmly on the faded glow-in-the-dark stars plastered across Lloyd’s ceiling.

“Okay,” he says, his voice tight. “Bring it on.”

Lloyd swallows, steels himself, and sets the needle against his skin. Kai flinches at the first prick, eyes squeezing shut briefly, but otherwise he doesn’t move, jaw set stubbornly as Lloyd moves quickly. For his part, Lloyd keeps his eyes locked on the stitches, his hands steady. For all that Lloyd’s made up of bouncing nerves half the time, his hands rarely shake. Never when patching wounds up. He’s always been proud of how steady he can hold a needle, and tonight is no exception.

It’s the least he can do.

Kai suddenly tenses up, a broken-off noise strangling in his throat. Lloyd’s heart twists, but he stays steady, rallying himself. Conversation — Kai likes talking, right? Distraction, he can do that.

“So, um,” Lloyd stutters. On second thought, he’s awful at small talk. But — for Kai. “The way you took down that last guy was, it was really cool. Where’d you learn that?”

Kai bites his lip, exhaling shakily before he answers. “I train too, you know.”

Lloyd’s mouth quirks, despite himself. “Not like that.”

“What, a ninja can’t — can’t get creative,” Kai replies, through half-gritted teeth. Lloyd doesn’t say anything, but Kai rolls his eyes, continuing. “Fine. When I was younger, I ah…might’ve taken a few dance classes. For Nya! ‘Cause I couldn’t let her go alone, y’know, but they were — they were kinda fun, I guess, and maybe they slip into fighting, sometimes.” His cheeks darken, and Lloyd bites back a quiet laugh.

“Nothing like Cole, obviously, ‘cause he’s an actual dancer, but — that’s where I got it from.” He pins Lloyd with a glare, that’s somewhat dimmed by the scrunched expression of pain on his face. “Tell anyone and you’re dead though, okay?”

Lloyd hums his agreement, too focused on the stitches to reply immediately. After a moment, though, he speaks up again. “I did some ballet, when I was little.”

“No way,” Kai says, sounding delighted.

“Yeah, way,” Lloyd says. “I’ve heard from a very reliable source that dancing backgrounds are useful, with ninja stuff.”

“Very reliable meaning your uncle,” Kai grins.

Lloyd shrugs. “Maybe,” he half-smiles. Kai suddenly sucks in another pained breath, but to Lloyd’s relief, it’s likely the last one. He finishes off the stitches with a well-practiced hand, snapping the end of the thread and exhaling in relief.

“There. All done.”

Kai’s eyes widen. “Seriously, already?” He glances down at his arm, his other hand moving up to touch the stitches. Lloyd smacks it away, glaring at him.

“Don’t touch. You still have to watch out for infection. I’ll text you instructions for taking care of it, and everything. Just don’t do anything, ah…”

“No ninja-ing?” Kai finishes for him, crestfallen.

“Probably a good idea,” Lloyd says, apologetic. “But it’s not too bad. Shouldn’t take long, and you can be out, uh, ninja-ing again."

Kai is quiet for a moment, regarding his stitches. Then he turns to Lloyd, who is immediately staggered at the bright smile that stretches across his face.

“Cool. Thanks, Lloyd. You’re good at this.”

Lloyd can’t answer, his throat burning. He forces the welling moisture back, looking away. Kai’s only hurt for him, and that is layered with so much more meaning than Lloyd can comprehend right now.

“No problem,” Lloyd mutters, focusing instead on the voices outside his door in an attempt to find footing again. He can hear his mom laughing at something Nya’s said, open and relaxed in a way his mom rarely is. Lloyd’s heart twists into knots.

He doesn’t deserve them, any of them. Not really.

If Kai reminds Lloyd of the sun, then the rest of the team reminds him of stars. All bright and shining, bursting with warmth in their own way. Maybe not quite at the blazing heat that Kai does, but Nya is a north star if Lloyd’s ever needed one. Jay’s a blinking constellation, scattered stars that form a complex whole much larger than you’d thought. Cole’s the kind of star you see first pop up over the horizon, blending with the oranges and purples of the sunset, like a painting you’d see in soft watercolors. Zane’s the early-morning kind of star, the ones that stay stubbornly after the night’s left, dotting the pale morning with a calm steadiness.

Lloyd would be a planet, he supposes, caught in faithful orbit around the five people who have somehow, for some reason, given him a chance. It’d be generous, though. No, Lloyd is content just to be a moon — with no light of his own, reflecting only the brilliance others give him the best he can.

Kai’s finger taps the edge of his forehead, snapping Lloyd from his thoughts, and he blinks in confusion.

“Lost you there, again,” Kai asks, words mangled through a yawn. “Where’d you go?”

Lloyd shakes his head, turning his attention back to the bloodied thread leftover in his hands. His stomach turns, and he quickly sets it aside. “Just thinking.” He pauses, momentarily lost for words. He settles for jerking his head toward the window, where the smoke trailing from their hard-won battle is still visible against the dark sky, and gives Kai a wry smile. “How much do you wanna bet the cheerleading team comes up with a new song tomorrow?”

It’s been an inside joke for them, the ridiculous songs Chen and his gang keep coming up with to throw at Lloyd, and normally it gets a laugh from Kai. This time, though, Kai is silent, his eyes searching as he stares at Lloyd. Lloyd shifts under the attention, caught off-guard again. He doesn’t know what kind of look this is, that Kai’s giving him.

“They shouldn’t talk about you like that,” Kai finally says. His voice is quiet, but Lloyd can spot the brewing anger in it. Kai’s always got anger to spare.

“Sticks and stones, remember?” Lloyd shakes his head. He’s learned, after a while, that anger changes nothing. “Words will never hurt me.”

“Words hurt when people are throwing sticks and stones at you while they yell about your dad,” Kai grumbles.

“No one’s thrown rocks since second grade, actually.”

“Hm.” Kai’s tone is a mix of thinly withheld anger and mild amusement. Lloyd tilts his head, confused, and Kai gives a huff, anger tugging loose.

“Y’know, people say that if kids throw rocks at you in second grade, it means they’ve got a crush on you.”

Lloyd knows well enough it’s a joke, but he flushes red anyways, heat spreading across his cheeks. “Yeah, sure,” he stammers. Kai laughs at his reaction, though, the odd kind of anger departing, and Lloyd feels he’s found his footing again.

They’re quiet as Lloyd finishes cleaning up the medical supplies, Kai nodding sleepily on his bed while Lloyd carefully washes the needle in the bathroom sink. Maybe he can convince his mom to let Kai spend the night, he thinks. Jay and Nya , too — their apartment isn’t very big, but it’s awfully late to make them walk home, and Lloyd is fine with taking the floor, if he needs to.

Lloyd nods to himself, resolving to ask her once he’s finished hiding the evidence. His mom’s been so thrilled about him having people over at all, he can’t see her saying no. A smile pulls at his lips as he listens to the conversation outside his door again. Jay’s rambling on now, bright and excited without any of his usual reservation. He feels a pang, wondering if Jay’s the same as him — wondering if they’re all the same, playing at muted caricatures of themselves, too fearful to let whatever lies beneath shine through.

He wonders what it means, that they’re the ones with the city in their hands, that weight on their shoulders. Wonders what it means, that Lloyd feels safer with bullets strafing the air around him and his mask on, than he ever has with it off. That Green Ninja will always, always sound better than Lloyd in his ears.

“Hey, uh.”

Lloyd starts at Kai’s voice, twisting the sink off as he turns to face him. Kai looks half asleep, but the smile he gives him is bright as ever.

“Thanks, seriously. Not just for this, but for looking out for us. You’re a good friend.”

Lloyd’s heart skips a beat, his brain latching onto the word friend and holding on tightly, tucking it somewhere safe inside his chest.

“So thanks, Lloyd,” Kai yawns, barely awake at all now, but still stubbornly clinging to the threads of awareness.

Lloyd’s got his own thank you to give back, twisted and strangled behind whatever lump’s formed in his throat, but Kai’s snoring before he gets the chance to say it. So Lloyd tugs the edge of his comforter over his friend — his friend — instead, and runs the words over in his mind again and again, like a treasured line from a book.

On second thought. Maybe Lloyd isn’t so bad. He’s only ever liked his name the way his mom says it, without any of the snapping, harsh emphasis others give it. In others’ mouths, Lloyd’s name is a curse. In his mom’s, Lloyd’s name belongs to a person.

But he thinks, maybe, he likes the way it sounds when his teammates use it, too.

[juniorgman187]

The Bones (Reid Series) Part 2

Summary: After doing an even deeper dive on Valerie’s past, Spencer finally meets her, but his invasiveness isn’t the worst part ... the worst part is he might actually like her. 

Playlist: “The Bones” by Maren Morris & Hozier  (BONUS: song includes major foreshadowing) Category: Series, Fluff, Soft Angst, Eventual smut and *NSFW content Pairing: Spencer Reid POV x Fem!OC - Valerie Content Warning: invasion of privacy, allusions to Maeve’s death, arrhythmia Word Count: 3.4k

Part 1 |

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

After firmly deciding not to weave Penelope into my tangled web, I was met with the arduous burden of conducting my own research. 

Firstly, I would need a computer - yeah ... a computer. That’s how far I was willing to go for this pursuit. I once vowed never to fall victim to modern technology’s clutches, and yet here I was, doing my research on a public library’s computer. To my credit, I hadn’t gone out and bought one, I was merely using my resources.

With the need for a device out of the way, all that was left was the knowledge of what to look for. But that didn’t pose a problem either.

Funny enough, with as many rules and restrictions as there are regarding patient privacy and confidentiality, all it took was matching dates of news stories with hospital records to complete my research. I was fairly certain I was only scratching the surface of information about Valerie as opposed to the sea of things I could’ve uncovered if I asked for Garcia’s help, but there are only so many lines a person can cross in one week. 

This was my limit.

Call me naive, but I was actually quite surprised with just how expansive the internet is. To an almost relentless degree, I would open an article and it would lead me to ten more about the same topic. It was this never ending rabbit hole that seemed to spiral on forever. I kept digging deeper and deeper until I could no longer dig. 

I’d officially hit rock bottom. 

It took me a grand total of just two hours to unearth all the ‘dirt’ I could on a young Valerie Bishop. 

Local 16-year-old Wins Nevada’s Statewide Art Contest! Published by Henderson Press. 

Valerie, just a sophomore in high school at the time, was donning what any experimental teen girl would’ve worn in the early 2000s - bootcut jeans and a sequin blouse over top of a plain camisole. And if I zoomed in close enough, I could spot the evidence of a sparkly blue shadow coating her eyelids. Surprisingly, though, that wasn’t the first thing I noticed. 

It was that smile. That tooth-achingly sweet smile. 

Though I never got the chance to see Maeve truly smile, that’s what I imagined it would look like. 

The photographer must’ve caught her midway through a laugh, at least that’s what the image of her slightly open-mouthed grin told me. Meanwhile, her two tiny hands were clenching her overbearingly large trophy while her artwork stood behind her as the background.

It didn’t take me long to figure out why her painting won. Simply put, there was no need to see anyone else’s art to know that they couldn’t possibly compete with hers. 

Hers was an abstract rendition of what I believe to be a forest of some sort. The detail is what I was most drawn to. It would’ve been unbelievable on its own but the fact that she was 16 when she painted it? That’s what was unbelievable to me. 

If that’s how talented she was at that age, I could only imagine how much more talented she became with time. However, I lost the chance to investigate the current state of her skill before a related article from The Cleveland Gazette about Valerie succeeded this one. 

From Award-Winning Artist to Henderson’s Hero

Read my interview with 17-year-old Valerie Bishop to find out more about her struggle with arrhythmia and how she turned her pain into a project! 

By Kelli Gallagher from the Cleveland Gazette. 

Gallagher: Thank you so much for letting me interview you, Valerie. 

Bishop: Of course! I’m happy to. 

Gallagher: You’ve become somewhat of a hero in Henderson, Nevada, haven’t you?

Bishop: I wouldn’t call myself a hero ... but if everyone else wants to - I’m fine with that. (laughs)

Gallagher: Don’t be so modest! I mean, what you’ve done is so incredible, and you’re only what? Seventeen?

Bishop: Yes, ma’am. I just turned seventeen this past August. 

Gallagher: Wow, I can’t believe how young you are and yet you’ve already accomplished so much. I saw that you won a statewide art contest last year. Tell me more about that. 

Bishop: That’s a funny story actually. My Grandma Sheila was the one who entered me in that contest. I didn’t even know about it until I won it. She’s always surprising me, though. In fact, she’s the one that surprised me with my first ever art supplies, when I was about eight or so. They were these super expensive oil paints, and I knew she couldn’t afford them, so I told her we should return them and get something cheaper, but she said, “Nonsense. When the bones are good the rest don’t matter. A house don’t fall when the bones are good.” That was kind of her saying. 

A house don’t fall when the bones are good. 

The bones. 

Gallagher: I’m interested to know more about your relationship with your grandma. If I’m remembering correctly, she was also diagnosed with arrhythmia a while back too, right?

Bishop: Yes, she was, but that’s never slowed her down. And as for our relationship, my grandma and I have always been close, but arrhythmia, in a weird way, has brought us even closer. She has always been my biggest supporter and the fact that we’re both on this journey together makes her my biggest supporter even more so. 

Gallagher: Absolutely. Now, I also heard that you’ve started a fundraising program to possibly start a gallery and studio in Virginia Beach. If you don’t mind me asking, why Virginia Beach? Is there any special significance? 

Bishop: Actually, that’s where my grandma met my grandpa, and they got married and started a family there, too. So if Grandma Sheila hadn’t been there to meet him, she wouldn’t have had my mom, and that would mean I wouldn’t have been here either. I like to think Virginia Beach is where it all started. In a way, it’s where my bones are. That solid foundation in Virginia gave me everything I have today.

Gallagher: That is just incredible. I’m so glad to see your fundraising project is thriving, but I can’t imagine any of this has been particularly easy for you. You were diagnosed right around the time your senior year was starting right?

Bishop: Yes ma’am. 

Gallagher: So what brought you from Henderson to Cleveland?

Bishop: Well, actually, I didn’t want to move, especially not before I graduated, but Cleveland has the best cardiovascular hospital in the country and my health is far more important than graduating in the same state I grew up in. So when my parents were willing to move me and my sister out here, I saw it as a privilege rather than something to be sad about. 

Gallagher: I am so inspired by you, Valerie.

Bishop: (laughs) Really, why?

Gallagher: Despite everything that’d been thrown at you, you are still so grateful. I hope you never lose that. 

Bishop: I promise you I won’t.

Gallagher: So one last thing before I go, what is one hope you have for your future self?

Bishop: I hope, future self, that your ‘bones’ are still strong.

Gallagher: Beautiful. Thank you so much again for doing this, Valerie. I sincerely hope you reach your goal and you get to open up that gallery and studio in Virginia Beach. 

At the bottom of the article, there was a footnote from Kelli Gallagher. 

Exactly 10 years later, Bishop was able to move to Virginia Beach and open up her gallery and studio. 

By the end of the article, I felt a genuine sense of pride for Valerie, and I know I had virtually no right to know these things about her, but I could still be proud of her for them right?

I would never fully get my answer to this question before I crossed the final boundary. 

After exhausting all that I could gather from the internet without Penelope’s assistance, the only thing left for me to do was actually meet her in person. However, this would prove to be a bigger obstacle that it seemed. I decided to delay the daunting task until the next day. A decision partially influenced by the phrase, ‘sleep on it.’ I prayed I’d gain clarity on what to do when I woke up the next morning, but even with a night’s rest, I was still undecided as I drove to Virginia Beach once more.

To sit in my car that was conveniently parked right in front of the gallery was a poor choice. Because with every passing second, the temptation to walk in grew, but the fear of regret dampened those impulses. The more I thought about it, the more I psyched myself out. Between my two choices, to freeze or to fight, I should’ve taken the third - to flee. But I was here now and I couldn’t leave empty-handed for a second time. 

After a moment’s indecision, adrenaline coursed through my veins to give me the courage to get out of my car. When I felt an outdoor breeze blow over me, I knew there was no going back now. Right when I walked in, the little bell above the door rang, solidifying that I was officially crossing the threshold, and whether I liked it or not, she was going to see me after hearing me walk in.

“I’ll be right with you!” A small voice called out from somewhere in the back. She was hidden from my immediate sight, and somehow that made it so much worse. It was now I that was waiting for her, instead of her unknowingly waiting for me. 

As though I were prey getting ready to escape a predator, I stayed put by the door. It gave me a full view of the entire place anyway. 

Scoping out my surroundings, I spotted the paintings that were carefully measured and placed on the walls, almost to perfection. I had no time to notice anything more before the person in the back walked out. 

Immediately when I saw her, I knew.

“You’re … not Valerie.” I couldn’t help sounding so disappointed but luckily, the woman that came out took no offense to my observation. 

“No, I’m not,” She laughed. “But I can get her for you-”

“No wait!” I uselessly leapt forward to stop her from saying, “Vee! There’s someone out here to see you!” But that’s precisely what she did anyway. Evidently oblivious of my previous protests, she politely smiled back at me. “She’ll be right out.” 

For the second time that day, I waited with bated breath, anxiously anticipating the arrival of Valerie. And I was almost too focused on subduing the pounding of my heart to realize that she was actually walking out of the back right now. 

“Hi, sorry about that!” A new voice chirped. 

Valerie. 

The moment I laid eyes on her, it became clear to me that the pictures in her files hardly did her justice. Nothing could compare to the real sight of her. I was only able to catch the profile of her face when I saw her in the cafe, but in her entirety, I began to wax nostalgic. Though her face and hair and body had transformed into that of a grown woman’s features, I could still identify the same tooth-achingly sweet smile that a younger Valerie once wore on the front page of the Henderson Press. She was no beast to conquer, she was just a girl, smiling at me in that same gentle way. 

Her expression just as well showed no indication of recognition, not that she would recognize me, considering my letter was anonymous and unless she pulled the same stunt I did, she wouldn’t ever recognize who I was. 

“I’m Val,” She made her greeting to me while untying her dirtied waist apron, and it was merely the action that caused my gaze to fall to her hips, but when she shed the apron, I was still staring. There was something sort of mesmerizing about the way they swayed as she approached. It wasn’t until they stopped swaying completely that I realized they did so because there was no more distance to advance - she was already right there in front of me, patiently watching me stare. 

“Val?” I blinked hard to revert my gaze while also playing into the part that I had no idea who she was. 

“Mhm. Short for Valerie,” She confirmed happily. “Like the Amy Winehouse song.” 

This time, I genuinely didn’t know what she was referring to, and my confused countenance prompted her to clarify, “You don’t know that song?” 

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, she began to playfully sing, “Well, sometimes I go out by myself and I look across the water ...” 

While she watched my face and waited for the recitation of the song to jog my memory, I was just as much studying her face. I could tell she was only kidding when she sang, evidenced by the laugh that followed her rendition, but it sounded so unironically good that I had to question what other talents she possessed. 

“Um, I was actually thinking more like Valerie, the martyred medieval saint, whose name stood for strength and health.” No sooner than the words spilled from my mouth did I recognize the freudian slip - the simultaneous coincidence and confession. The coincidence was that, now, with Maeve’s heart beating in her chest, she lived up to her name - she was newly strong and healthy. But I worried, she would see the correlation I drew between her name and her successful transplant and would realize that I knew more about her than I let on. Did I just give away too much?

“Sorry, I didn’t catch your name earlier. What was it?” Her casual dismissiveness of my previous statement did nothing to ease my worries. Was she beginning to piece everything together?

“Oh, right!” I said dumbly. “S-Spencer. I’m Spencer.” I was such a blubbering bundle of nerves that I actually reached out to shake her hand - a stranger’s hand. 

“Nice to meet you, Spencer,” She softly laughed, which was hopefully not out of the enjoyment of seeing me squirm. “What can I do for you?” 

A loaded question, don’t you think? What can you do for me, Valerie? Well, for one thing, you could’ve answered my letter, but to say something as bold as that would require me to admit the real reason I was here, and how could I do that without mentioning how I found you in the first place?

“Um ...” Whose birthday is the soonest? “My friend Emily’s birthday is coming up and I was wondering if I could possibly buy a painting from you as a birthday present.” 

There was the faintest perceptible skepticism in her expression, but that could’ve just been my paranoia talking because in the next breath, she didn’t suggest a proclivity to my deceit. “Yeah, of course! Do you know what her favorite medium is? Or her favorite artist? Or her favorite style of art?” 

For every addition to the question, I wordlessly shook my head no. Was my lie already unraveling? Could she see right through me?

“No worries. If you want, you can walk around the gallery and tell me if you see anything you think she’d like.” She made her offer to me sweetly, then disappeared into the back room again. I tried to follow her with my eyes for as long as I could, but from where I was standing, I couldn’t see very far into it. I wandered a little further into the center of the gallery to possibly catch a glimpse of what was occupying her time back there, but when I heard the chattering of two voices, Valerie and the other woman, coming from the same general direction, I realized I was completely alone in this part of the studio.

With no one around to bear witness but these portraits, I could’ve easily slipped out and made my escape, and I might’ve even done it had it not been for the unmistakable gravitational pull forcing me to stay here and walk about the room. 

Making my way throughout the gallery, I would pause every now and then when a painting would stand out to me, which was often, considering each picture was impressive. 

But there was one painting in particular that piqued my interest. It made me feel something I’d never felt before. 

It wasn’t special by any means. By rights, I shouldn’t have even noticed it, for it wasn’t the largest painting, nor the smallest one - it wasn’t even the most average painting. But it felt exceptionally ... Valerie. I had no doubt in my mind that she painted this one - in fact, I had a good bet that she painted most of these portraits, if not all of them - but this one. There was just something about it that I couldn’t put my finger on. 

“So,” A draft was created from where Valerie swiftly and unexpectedly joined me at my side. “What do you think?” 

“Um, there’s definitely something,” I struggled to find the word. “appealing about this one.” Almost as soon as the word came out of my mouth, I knew it was only a matter of time before she called out the inadequacy of my answer. 

“Appealing?” She repeated in mockery. “That’s the best you got? Come on, you’ve been standing here for like ten minutes. There must be something about it you like.” 

“I’m not sure.” I honestly admitted with a shrug.

“There’s no wrong answer.” She assured me, but I found that hard to believe. 

“So if I said I see a grizzly bear attacking a UFO, that wouldn’t be wrong?”

“Nope,” She popped the p. “If that’s how you interpret it then that’s how you interpret it. Just because someone else sees it differently, doesn’t mean you’re wrong.” It would’ve sounded like complete bullshit or nauseatingly cheesy coming out of someone else’s mouth, but her delivery felt so genuine. It actually moved me. 

As she said this, she turned her head in my direction to look up at me, causing her shoulder to brush my upper arm, sending a wave of goosebumps all over my body. 

She was so close. 

But I was so unbothered by her proximity that I didn’t even notice exactly how close she really was. If someone else had invaded my personal space like that, I would’ve moved in the opposite direction just on instinct, but I didn’t even think to do that with Valerie. I was so comfortable with her being there. 

But was that just because a part of her was once Maeve’s? Was the entire foundation of my likening to Valerie built upon that single attribute?

Was that my bones?

“Um,” I began fidgeting with my hands to self-soothe. “I like it. I don’t know why. But I like it. How’s that for an answer?”

There was a pause before her response that compelled me to look at her, but when I did so, she was already looking at me. “I’ll take it,” She nodded. “It’s the biggest compliment to me if my art can make you feel something.”

Was it the art that made me feel something ... or you?

“I’ll tell you what,” She walked over to grab something from the front desk. She came back with a small piece of cardstock. “I’m going to an art exhibition next weekend. Why don’t you come with me and see if you can’t find something for Emily there?”

She handed me the paper, which was actually her business card. “You don’t have to have an answer for me today, but call me when you do.” She seemed to think that was the end of the conversation, but I still had more questions. 

“You’re inviting me?” was the first question that came to mind, albeit the dumbest one.

“Yeah, you can be my plus one.”

I gulped to dislodge the lump in my throat. “Like-like your date?” 

She furrowed her brows with mild confusion. “Um ... sure, if that’s what you wanna call it,” which was the last thing she said to me before vanishing within the back room again. 

I peered back down at the card and tapped it gently on the palm on my hand as though to register its presence really being there. 

For all intents and purposes, this card was meaningless. But to me, it was the formal consenting - nay, invitation - to reach out to her again. She was willingly extending this line of contact to me. 

No more public library computers. No more files. No more ‘research.’ Just her number - a way to reach her without veering off my moral compass. 

Despite this, I still had no clue whether or not I was going to accept her offer.

All that I did know was that I wanted to see her again. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

PART 3 COMING SOON!

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[bitchloveskcbaseball]

Tripping Over Myself

Pairing: Logan x OC (Charlotte Wheeler)

Summary: Charlotte’s not the best at communicating and it gets her in a bit of trouble. (takes place shortly after Drawn to a Flame)

Warnings: Language. Lots and lots of language. Seriously...so many f-words. lol Also, mentions of her previous car accident (it’s not super detailed, but it is brought up a few times) and her resulting injuries.

Word Count: 5525. I swear ... I was certain this was going to be nothing more than maybe 2k words. And then this happened and the thing that I wanted to happen in this fic didn’t even happen so that’s fun lol

Logan belongs to Pixelberry, but the other two lovelies are all mine.

A/N #1: This was written for @rodappreciationweek​ MC day. And sticking with the theme from the first two pieces in this series, I have pulled the title from the lyrics of Shawn Mendes’s Stitches.

Also... a huge huge thank you to @burnsoslow for reading a piece of this that had me chasing my tail for what seemed like forever and fixing it for me. You are the best!!

“Hey hey hey! The hell you think you’re doin?”

Freezing mid step to turn back around to where Paul was glaring at her from his now-seated position where he'd rolled out from under her car on his creeper, Charlotte scrunched her nose up in confusion. “You were bitchin’ that you didn’t have your 3/8 down there. Figured I’d grab it so you’d stop muttering to yourself.”

“I had one rule for letting you stay after you showed up here today. And I made it explicitly clear.”

“But – “

“No. No buts.”

“C’mon Paul! You can’t seriously expect me to sit on that damn stool the entire time we’re here. I am fully capable of walking to the toolbox and grabbing a goddamn socket!”

“Lottie, sweetheart. You are still healing. You need to take it easy.” Instead of the calming effect she was sure he was shooting for, the soft gentleness of Paul’s voice just reminded her of an adult trying to calm a child who was in the middle of throwing a massive tantrum. And that ratcheted her mild frustration up until she was actually throwing a damn fit.

“For fuck’s sake! I know I’m fucking hurt. But I’m not a complete invalid. I don’t think me taking three fucking steps across this damn storage unit and picking up a tool that weighs a few ounces is going to do me in when a fucking slab of concrete didn’t!” Her hands flew up to steeple across her nose and mouth. “Shit. Paul – “

Gaze firmly locked on his white-knuckled grip on his wrench, Paul cut her off with a slight shake of his head. “Nah. It’s … it’s fine, sweetheart.”

In two shaky steps, Charlotte was across the unit and gingerly kneeling in front of him. Slowly, as if she were approaching a spooked cat, she eased the wrench out of his hold so she could wrap his hand in her own. “No. It’s not ‘fine.’ I … I shouldn’t have said that. I promised I’d stop acting so nonchalant about the accident.” Before he could interject, she nudged his knee with her own. “Shush, lover. I really am so incredibly sorry. I shouldn’t have lashed out like that. You’re only trying to look out for me. And I appreciate that more than I could ever say.”

Finally lifting his head from staring at the floor between them, Paul’s teary eyes met hers, twisting her heart even harder. In barely a whisper, he asked, “The hell did you have to go there for?”

Letting out a harsh sigh, Charlotte stood up and whirled around. It was a motion she instantly regretted when every thing went a little off kilter and her vision started to swim. Ugh! Not this shit again. She fought against the urge to lean against the work bench to her right, not wanting Paul to decide that she needed to be taken home: that was the last place she wanted to be at that particular moment.

“Lottie?”

Finally giving up any thoughts she'd had of blowing off his question with the pretense of being fine, she practically exploded, “Ugh. I’m just … I’m so fucking tired of all the hovering!” Her fist closed around one of the lug-nut caps that were lined up on the bench, waiting patiently for the new wheels and tires that had yet to be ordered to be installed. The urge to hurl it at the closed roll-up door was only eclipsed by the desire to not mar its mirror-like finish: finding replacements that matched the original set from L.A. was hard enough the first time and she certainly didn’t want to have to do it again because she'd briefly lost her damn mind. So she forced herself to replace it into its previous spot and let out another, albeit quieter, sigh. “Look … I love Logan, ok? Like all that head over heels, all my heart bullshit? I feel all of it for him. With him. But fuck it all. He has barely given me six inches to breathe since he showed up in my damn living room. I know it's only been a few weeks, but it has felt like years and not in a good way. I mean, I had to sneak out of my own fucking home just to come down here today!”

“Sweetheart – “

“I know. And I get it. I scared the shit out of him. Hell, I scared the shit outta both of you guys. But … “ Finally turning back around – slowly and carefully this time -- to face Paul again, she let her shoulders sag. “I can’t live with someone micromanaging every second of my day. Every move I make. I … I cannot go back to that kinda life.”

Stepping up to stand in front of her, Paul gently rubbed his hands up and down her upper arms. “Have you talked to him? Told him all this?”

She laughed bitterly. “I have tried. So many times over the past few weeks. But every time I try to bring this or anything remotely related to the accident up, he just completely shuts down on me.” Voice breaking with the tears she was fighting to hold back, she muttered, “I can’t lose him again. But I can’t keep doing this either.”

“C’mere.” Careful of her still-casted arm and still-tender ribs, he wrapped his arms around her. Instinctively she tucked her face against his neck, letting his presence soothe her. After several silent moments, he pressed a kiss to her temple and asked, “You want me to talk to him ‘bout it?”

“As much as I would love for you to do that … you can’t. I have to be the one to get through to him if this is really going to work between us.”

Tightening his hug ever-so-slightly, Paul kissed her temple again. “I’m so proud of you, Lottie.”

“For what?”

“The girl I met a lil over a year ago would never.”

Pushing back from him enough to see his face, she narrowed her eyes at him as she tried to decipher his meaning. When she came up empty, she questioned him, point blank, “The hell nonsense are you talkin’ about?”

“When you first started pestering me at the sideshows, trying to bully me into giving you a spot in one of the races. You had everything so locked down, I’m not sure a stick of dynamite would have gotten you to open up. Even after I succumbed to my still-ongoing case of Stockholm Syndrome oof – “ using her cast to knock him in the stomach may not have been her smartest idea, but it was still an effective form of retaliation – “and we started hanging out more, you kept most of your feelings tucked away in that vault. I mean, sure, you eventually let me in, little by little … but, my point is, I’m proud of you for admitting how you are feeling.”

Despite the way her eyes rolled exaggeratedly, she couldn’t keep her lips from twitching with the smile threatening to break out across her face. “Would you shut up already?”

“Only after we circle back to that bit about you sneaking out to come down here. Thought you said Logan drove you?”

“Um … how ‘bout we go back to you singing my praises?” All she got in response was a stare down from Paul, so she relented with a sigh. “Fine. I noticed Logan had dozed off, so I slipped out and called a cab to bring me down.” When his eyes went wide, she held up her free hand and quickly added, “I left him a note. I’m not the one that just vanishes without a trace.” The venom in her words caught even her by surprise.

“Maybe without a trace. But never without a conversation.”

“Ugh.” Charlotte’s head fell forward so that her forehead was resting against his chest, grumbling, “Thought you were ‘posed to be my friend and stick up for me?” He shot her a knowing look, but she continued on before he could launch into the spiel she'd already heard dozens of times before. “Fine. Ok. You win. Save the damn lecture and put the time to better use. Say … running me home?”

Laughing, Paul retorted, “Bout freakin’ time, sweetheart.”

A short time later, Paul was pulling up to the curb in front of her apartment building. Mind already running through the things that she needed to say to Logan as she reached for the door handle, she jumped when Paul’s hand came to rest lightly on her shoulder. “Don’t I even get a ‘goodbye’ or ‘thank you’ first?”

“Shit! I’m sorry! Thank you so much. For letting me hang. For forcing me to talk this shit out. For bringing my ass home.”

Chuckling indulgently, he told her, “You’re welcome. For everything.” She once again started to climb from the car, but stopped when he continued, “But, I need you to promise me that you won’t sneak out like this again.”

Chuckling indulgently, she shrugged her shoulders and opened her door before tossing back, “I would, but I don’t make promises I’m not sure I can keep.”

The glare she got in response was stern, but the effect was all but negated by the warmth in his voice as he threatened, “Fine. Lemme put it to ya this way, sweetheart. If you do it again, I’m dumping your ass. For real.”

She waited until she’d stepped out and up onto the sidewalk before she turned around to say, “It’s so adorable when you act like you could live without me, lover,” before turning to walk through the front door, blowing him a kiss from over her shoulder.

As she crossed the lobby towards the elevator bank, her eyes caught on the Out of Service sign and she let out a groan. Despite her annoyance, Charlotte didn’t blink an eye before heading for the staircase, figuring it was only a minor inconvenience. Especially since, at her last appointment, the first thing she’d asked once her doctor had mentioned that she was good to start easing back into very light physical activity was if she was okay to take the stairs to her apartment, because the ancient elevators were constantly having issues and she knew that having the freedom to move around more meant nothing if she couldn’t get in and out of her damn apartment. While he wasn’t exactly thrilled at the prospect, he assured her that she’d be fine so long as she took it slowly and carefully. Still, she knew even with the green light from her doctor, it was going to feel like a trek after having spent so long doing little more than traversing the path between her bed and her couch.

True to her expectations, by the time she’d gotten to the second floor, she was definitely more winded than she’d usually be and her entire body was beginning to take on that achy feel of being suddenly being forced to work. But neither of those things is what had her slumping against the wall with a white-knuckled grip on the handrail. No, that was brought on by the way the world had seemingly begun to spin around her, setting her completely off balance.

What could have been five minutes or five hours later, she chanced peeking an eye open, but the vibrant mosaic tile pattern of the stairs was still swirling and swimming about in front of her, causing her to slam it back closed and drop her head back – gently – against the wall. Frustrated that the only change in how she felt was the deep churning and roiling in her gut, she finally acknowledged that she wasn’t going to be making it up the rest of the way on her own and pulled her phone from her pocket to call Logan.

Without opening her eyes, she placed her finger over the fingerprint reader, waiting for the digital clicking sound that signaled it had been unlocked, but it never came. Steeling herself for the unsettling sensations that were about to wash over her, she once again peeled an eye open and pressed the power button to wake up the screen. A loud groan escaped her when the screen remained dark, reminding her that she had forgotten to charge it the night before.

Faced with the unsettling choice of either continuing on in spite of the vertigo – which seemed risky, even by her standards – or staying in her spot for who knows how long until the episode passed, Charlotte couldn’t hold back the sobs building in the back of her throat or the tears welling in the corners of her eyes as she slid down the wall to sit on the step. All she wanted, with a desperation she hadn’t felt since those first few weeks after he'd walked away the last time in L.A., was for Logan to wrap her in his arms. To whisper all of his sweet reassurances in her ear. To be the calm and steady force that centered her through the storm.

Almost as if her longing thoughts had conjured him, he was suddenly there, hands running gently over her arms and then brushing away her tears as he rattled off question after question, not leaving her space to actually answer one before moving on to the next. It was just as well, however, considering her addled mind couldn’t seem to make any sort of sense out of the words, choosing instead to latch onto the strained breathlessness with which they were uttered.

Wanting, or rather needing, to reassure him that, while she felt awful, she was wasn’t in mortal danger, she blindly reached out until her fingers brushed against the familiar, well-worn softness of his favorite denim shirt. As she ran her fingers across what she recognized as his chest, his free hand came up to tangle gently in her hair and she sank into the touch. A beat later, his forehead was resting against hers and she couldn’t have missed the shudder that ran through his body or the shaky exhale that passed his lips if she’d tried.

Charlotte’s fingers curled around the button-lined edge of shirt and she whispered, “It’s okay baby. I’m okay,” so softly she was surprised when she felt his answering scoff fan across her face, confirming that he had actually heard her.

Instead of a snarky retort or censuring lecture she was expecting to hear, the next words out of Logan’s mouth were simply, “You good if I pick you up?”

Her eyes shot open at the almost frigid indifference in his voice and the sight in front of her knocked the wind out of her like a punch to the gut. His brows were deeply furrowed and his lips were pursed together so tightly that they were barely visible. It was one thing to know that he was worried and upset – she’d felt it in his every tentative touch -- but it was something else entirely to see it.

Wanting nothing more than to ease some of his tension, she trailed her fingers up from his chest along the side of his neck and face, across his forehead until she could smooth them along the deep-set lines running between his eyebrows. It was a left-over habit from when she’d briefly moved into his loft in L.A., one that had never failed to relax him. This time, unfortunately, it didn’t have the same effect and her heart sunk just a little bit deeper into her stomach. Feeling defeated, she let her hand, along with her gaze, drop back down to her lap as she answered his question, “Yeah. I think the dizziness is mostly gone now. So long as we take it slow, I should be fine.”

Without hesitation, Logan pulled back enough to push himself up out of his crouch and it took everything she had not to whine at the loss. Within seconds, he was leaning back down to wrap one arm around her back while the other slid underneath her knees. Instinctively, Charlotte wrapped her free arm around his neck and as soon as she did, he was standing back up and tucking her against his chest, making sure to be mindful of both the strap of the sling across her back and the bulkiness of her cast. He spared her one glance with a raised eyebrow, but immediately averted his eyes when she assured him, “I’m good.”

Despite the way that he was cradling her so carefully in his arms as he carried her up the next two flights of stairs, with what seemed like no effort at all, it felt to her as if there was an entire canyon between them. Not once did he look down at her. Not once did he even twitch as if he was thinking of dropping a kiss to the top of her head. Not once did he open his mouth as if to say something to her. Even when she had to drop her head against his shoulder as a wave of nausea threatened to overwhelm her, the heavy silence remained.

As soon as they were back inside the apartment, Logan settled her gently onto the couch then turned to grab his pillow and a blanket from the pile of bedding he made each morning when he folded the pull-out away. Wordlessly, he tucked the blanket tightly around her – just the way she needs to be able to sleep alone. As he was reaching up to place the pillow beneath her head, she caught his wrist in her hand, whispering his name beneath her breath. Rather than make eye contact with her, he simply shook his head once and slipped away from her grip.

Stung by his rejection, Charlotte didn’t try to stop him again as he left the room. Instead, she curled up into as tight of a ball as she could on her good side, letting the scent of him on the pillow and blanket take over her senses until she was slowly drifting off into a blessedly dreamless sleep.

By the time that she woke up, the living room was cast in complete darkness, save for the bright green LED light letting her know her phone was finished charging. Lotta good that does me now. She blinked a few times in an effort to get her eyes to adjust to the lack of lighting, but still could barely make out the outlines of the rest of the furniture surrounding her. Even still, she knew Logan wasn’t in the room with her: she could always feel his presence when they were in the same space and that feeling was noticeably absent as she slowly pushed herself up to sit on the edge of the couch.

After giving herself a couple of minutes to make sure she wasn’t going to be dizzy again, she got up and headed towards the kitchen, figuring that would be his most likely location. Sure enough, she found him there, perched on one of the oversized chairs that in no way matched the tiny, shitty-ass excuse for a dining table that he currently had his forearms resting on. He was staring at the wall in front of him so intently that he didn’t even seem to hear her enter the room. Or, at least, that's what she was choosing to believe.

With just a couple more steps, she was able to close the distance between them, allowing her the ability to wrap arms around him from behind. She never made it that far, however, because as soon as her palms made contact with his shoulders, he startled and tensed beneath her touch. She opened her mouth to apologize for scaring him, but he cut her off before she had the chance, seething quietly, “Don’t you dare pull that fucking shit again.”

“Excuse me?”

“You can’t just sneak out without a word and then not answer your damned phone for five hours and expect me to be okay with it!”

“Okay, one? I left you a note telling you where I went. Two? As you clearly have already figured out, my fucking phone was dead. I didn’t even realize it until I was on my way back up here!”

Standing up from the chair so fast that he nearly knocked it – and her – over, Logan whipped around to face her, eyes wild with fury. “So one irresponsibility is just supposed to excuse another?”

Charlotte gave up all pretense of trying to stay calm, throwing her hands up in the air as she shouted, “For fuck’s sake, Logan! You knew where I was! If you were that damned desperate to get ahold of me, why didn’t you just call Paul?”

“I did. He wasn’t answering his goddamn phone either! By the time he finally did pick up, it was over half an hour after he’d dropped you off.” While he’d started off yelling at her in a volume that rivaled her own, Logan had trailed of into little more than a whisper by the time he was done. And that cut her deeper than the loudest insults ever could.

Unsure of how to respond, Charlotte reached up to fiddle with his spark plug necklace. It was something that had become a somewhat-nervous habit for her when he’d given it to her back in L.A. and she’d picked it up again once she’d begun wearing it almost constantly after their reunion. That simple, unthinking motion ended up being the answer to her loss of words, however, when the cool weight of it in her hand, combined with all the emotions running rampant through the room, sparked the memory of how she’d come to possess it in the first place.

“Logan, baby.” She paused, waiting until he looked up from the floor to meet her gaze before continuing gently, “You remember what you told me when you gave this to me?”

He raised an eyebrow at her as if asking her where she was going with this abrupt subject change. When she didn’t give him an answer, he let out a harsh sigh before replying, “Not entirely. I remember it was before the Grapevine job. Something about it keeping you safe like it did for me?”

“Yeah, that was part of it. You also told me how you came to wear it, too. How you'd survived a crash that you probably shouldn’t have.”

Rolling his eyes and throwing his hands up in the air, Logan sniped, “Okay … so? What's the point of this random-ass trip down memory lane?”

“You told me that you’d almost died. In a car accident. Right before we were about to go steal four very expensive sport cars. And we were going to steal them off a car hauler on the freeway, no less.” As if he had suddenly figured out where she was going with this, his eyes widened before narrowing on her. He opened his mouth, but she held up her hand to stop him. “I’m not gonna lie. As much as I was so touched that you were giving me something that meant so much to you? The story behind it fucking terrified me. Because if you – who had been driving so long and had so much skill at it – could wreck like that, what chance did I have at holding up my end of the bargain? Not to mention, just the idea of you getting hurt almost sent me into a tailspin. And I’m not so sure that that wasn’t your plan all along.”

“I – “

Walking over to wrap her arm around his neck, she kissed first his cheek and then his lips briefly and tenderly. When he didn’t tense up or pull away from her, she chanced nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. “I know, baby. You were just doing whatever you could think of to keep me safe. I understand that. And I understand that the result of me being a complete dumbass during that race scared the shit out of you. But I’m still here. I’m still alive. And today’s episode notwithstanding, I’ve been feeling really good. So this whole, hovering-over-me thing? The it’s-too-dangerous-out-there-thing you’ve been doing? It’s smothering me and I … I just can’t do it. It took me far too long to escape it with Wheeler. Far too long to find the strength to realize that it was okay – more than okay – to be who I wanted to be regardless of whether the people in my life accepted it. So … as much as I hate worrying you, I cannot go back to that old, boring version of myself, the one that never really felt like me, just because it's safer.”

Logan inhaled sharply and hands tightened ever so slightly where they had been resting on her hips since she'd tucked herself into him. A couple long beats passed before he finally muttered, “You know, you seemed to have skipped over the most important part of that story, though.”

Face scrunched up, she asked, “Yeah?”

“Yeah. That wasn’t just me giving you a good luck token. That was me trying to tell you not only to make sure you’re always in control, but also to make sure you learn from life's lessons.”

“I know.”

“Do you, though?”

Taken aback by Logan’s abrasiveness, Charlotte stumbled back a step, only to be met by narrowed eyes boring into her. “I ... I … I do.”

“Sure doesn’t seem like it from where I’m standing.”

“Logan – “

“Do you even realize how fucking stupid that stunt you pulled today was? What if that episode had hit when you were out there on the streets somewhere? All alone?”

Even though she knew his point was valid, Charlotte couldn’t bite back her derisive scoff. “First of all, I was literally by myself when it happened, so yeah, I have a decent idea.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Continuing on as if she hadn’t heard his outburst, she added heatedly, “Second, the only time I was by myself today was on the elevator ride down to the lobby, the walk from my cab to Paul’s storage unit and back here in the stairwell. It’s not like I was fucking gallivanting around the whole goddamn city.”

“For fuck’s sake! It’s not – you know what? Just forget it.” Throwing his hands up, Logan turned to storm out of the room.

“Sure. Just ru … run away. It’s – “ Tears that she refused to let fall clogged her throat and she pressed her lips together in an attempt to gather her composure. She realized, however, that the damage had been done, her stuttering robbing her words of their intended venom, so she pressed on with a watery whisper, “It’s what you do best.”

Practically freezing mid-step, he pivoted back around to face her, hands scrubbing at his face. “Damn it, Char. I’m not running away.” Shoulders falling when she rolled her eyes at him, he quickly closed the distance between them to lace their fingers together and insisted, “I’m not.”

“Then why – “

Without warning, Logan crushed his lips to hers in a kiss that left her short of breath when he finally pulled back just far enough to murmur, “’Cause you refuse to acknowledge how fucking reckless you’ve been and it is frustrating the ever livin’ shit outta me. And it just felt like it was better to walk away than say something I’d regret. Something just to hurt you. I don’t want … I can’t hurt you like that.”

Charlotte pulled back a little bit further to meet him square in the eye. “Future reference? Words are no big deal. You walking away? That’s the shit I can’t handle.”

Tangling his free hand in the hair at the base of her head, he gently pulled her face back so he could feather another kiss across her lips before replying, “Noted.” Another barely-there kiss. “Thing I can’t handle?” A slight tug of her bottom lip between his teeth that pulled a sharp gasp from her. “You not takin’ this shit seriously.”

This time, instead of leaning in again, Logan pulled pack just a bit further. She tried chasing after him, but he maintained their separation until she dropped her head back with a groan.

“You even listenin’ to me?”

“Um … yes?”

“Charlotte.”

“Hey!” She tried to glare at him, but instead ended up giggling, “You were the one distracting me!” When he leaned back in for another kiss, Charlotte dipped back as far as she could. “See! You’re doin’ it again!”

“Answer the question and I’ll stop.”

“What if I don’t want you to stop?”

Shaking his head at her with a familiar and fond smile tugging the corners of his mouth upward, he chuckled, “Okay … Answer the question or I’ll stop.” As if to emphasize his point, he pulled his hand out of hers and untangled his other from her hair to place them both on her hips to keep her planted to her spot when he took a step backwards.

Making sure to soften her words with a smile, Charlotte grumbled, “Ugh. Fine. If you’re gonna be so cruel about it … “ A light pinch pulled another giggle from her. “Okay. Okay. Yes, I heard you.”

“And?”

“And … I get it.” The incredulous look he gave her almost had her flinching. “Look, I get that I haven’t been the most … appreciative for the way that you’ve been taking care of me. And I get that I can’t go back to ‘normal’ just because I want to.”

“Char – “

“Hold up! I’m not finished!” Stopping to heave a frustrated sigh, she continued, “I’m going to do better from here on out. I’m gonna take it easy until the doctors clear me. I’ll do a better job of listening to my body when it starts telling me to take a break. And I’ll stop fighting you so much about it.”

“Not stop all the way, huh?”

“I think we both know me better than that.”

Pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose, he snickered, “Okay, that’s fair. That mean we’re done with this sneaking-out shit, then?”

Raising an eyebrow defiantly, she fired back, “Depends.”

“On?”

“Are you done with all your helicopter shit? Because if you are? Then yes. I’m done sneaking out.”

Logan studied her face with an inscrutable expression on his own for what felt like hours before nodding his head once. “Fine. I’ll chill out so long as you behave.”

Wrapping her arm around his neck with a smile, she told him, “I’m so glad we got that settled. I hate fighting with you.”

“God, me too. Are you as exhausted as I am?”

Charlotte snorted as she dropped her head against his chest. “Oh, my god. You have no idea.”

“Why don’t we call it a night, then?”

The hopefulness in Logan’s voice almost made her snicker, but she managed to smother it by placing a kiss to a spot right above his heart. “That sounds like a great idea, so long as we go together tonight.

The words were barely out of her mouth before he was nodding eagerly and answering, “Done.”

A/N #2: Just in case any one is wondering (since I haven’t written about Paul and Charlotte’s friendship nearly as much as I have wanted to) and also because I just really want to share this tidbit behind Charlotte’s nickname for Paul. When the two of them first started to become friends, the way Paul was always calling her “sweetheart” drove her absolutely crazy for reasons I may actually write about at some point? lol so she decided to retaliate by calling him “lover.” Unfortunately for her, however he didn’t mind, so it obviously didn’t have the desired effect. Eventually, it became a habit of affection and each of their nicknames stuck. Thank you for indulging me in this moment of ridiculousness

Perma Tags: @burnsoslow​ @mvalentine​ @anotherbeingsworld​ @adiehardfan​

Logan Tags: @brightpinkpeppercorn

[lov3nerdstuff]

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.31}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 4k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

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"Oh man, I wish we could come along!" Gideon sighed, then rested his elbows on the table and his head in his hands with an expression that bordered on a pout. "How unfair is that?! You guys get to go up the astronomy tower and have all the fun while we're stuck writing a bloody charms essay! Why on earth is fate so cruel?!"

"Maybe fate just likes us better than you." Cas replied with a smug expression, and a victorious smirk at the boys on the opposite side of the table. "There's nothing you can do about that, Gideon, but to just accept fate as it is."

"Pff, as if fate hasn't been kind enough to you already by gracing you with us in the first place…" Michael protested immediately, and Cas rolled her eyes in return. The only ones who currently knew better than to take part in this ridiculous conversation were Jorien and Simon, both of who already had something else to do for the night anyway. Smart of them, really.

"I honestly can't blame fate for not liking either of you right now." Robin sighed in sheer annoyance, and desperately hoped that dinner would be served soon. She had sat down at the Ravenclaw table with the rest of the dunderhead gang barely five minutes ago, and informed the group that she might be able to arrange a visit to the astronomy tower for Cas and Melissa three minutes down the road. The remaining two had been filled with the two boys' complaints about not being able to come along. Honestly, Robin had enough of the discussion. "If you guys had done your work any earlier instead of lazing about like dunderheads, you wouldn't be in this situation."

Now it was both Gideon and Michael who rolled their eyes at her in sheer annoyance. "Well, not everyone can be a swot like you!" The latter huffed, then sighed again, quite as dramatically as possible. "If only there was someone a year above us who could help us with the assignment… Or someone living in the same bloody room as us…"

"Why do you guys have to make everything so stupidly difficult…" Robin groaned under her breath while Simon gracefully ignored the allusion, then she hid her face in her hands when her headache only grew worse at this inane discussion. She really had not imagined this to be quite so difficult, not remotely. The older everyone got, the more difficult they became to deal with. Well, to manipulate, actually.

"See, Robin, if you-..." Gideon didn't get further than that, when Jorien cut straight into his attempted complaint.

"Just shut up Gideon, will you?" She snapped back at the boy, much to everyone's surprise. Until now, she had remained pointedly quiet for the entirety of the conversation just like Simon. Michael made a move to protest, but Jorien was faster. "And you too, Michael. Just shut. your. mouth. I don't get to go either, nor does Simon, but do you see us complaining?!"

"Well no, but-..."

"No 'but', idiots! You're being terrible friends to both Robin and Cas right now, if you haven't noticed, and you're seriously ruining everyone's night with your pathetic whining! So get a bloody grip already and just be happy for Cas that she gets to do something fun. And better be bloody nice to Robin now if you don't want her to send you into detention instead of up that stupid tower!" Jorien's cutting tone fit the fact that she still glared daggers at both boys, who both looked immediately intimidated in return. Robin couldn't help feeling immensely proud of the girl, and thankful that she was doing what Robin herself was just too tired to. These kinds of problems were on a different level than what she was dealing with today, and there was no room in her mind currently for teenage quarrels.

"You… can't really give us detention, can you?" Michael asked Robin so carefully that all hints of the previous accusations and protest were history.

"She can, and she will." Cas shrugged before Robin could, with a humoured expression even now that the discussion had taken a turn. "Robin can do anything, in case you still haven't understood that at this point. Giving you detention is the very least of that."

An idea sparked up in Robin's mind then, a new and perhaps even better one that would allow her to cover up for most of tonight's impending doings and thereby justify what she needed the girls to do for her. Keeping an eye out for Morgan's departure and return wasn't all that ordinary of a request, after all. She would need a cover story, and this could pose an even better one than doing the girls a favour by bringing them up the stupid tower indeed. So perhaps, teenage quarrels were the way to go after all.

"It's true, I can do and get away with pretty much anything around here." Robin shrugged in feigned ease and confidence, and all eyes were drawn from Cas straight to her instead. "Giving detention or unlocking the astronomy tower is nothing but a warm-up to me."

"Yeah, sure…" Gideon snorted, then quirked an eyebrow at Robin with a grin. "How about you convince Flitwick to spare us that bloody essay then?"

"And why would I want to bore myself out of my mind by doing something as easy as that? Even you could do that if only you tried." Robin scoffed in return, in an act that seemed to fool at least the two boys she was currently targeting. The girls and Simon however were rightfully doubtful about her sudden change in demeanour, but luckily they kept their suspicions to themselves.

"Oh, so you really mean it then, do you? You really can do anything?" Michael shot her a smirk at first, then turned to whisper something to Gideon and finally both boys looked at her with mischievous grins. "How about a little challenge then, huh?"

"If you are able to find anything that could remotely challenge me in the first place…" Robin sighed in sheer exaggerated boredom, then shrugged. This was going precisely to her plan, and the boys had absolutely no clue about how well they were playing their roles right now. Lovely. "Why not. Try to challenge me, if you can."

"How far do you want to go?" Michael questioned again, but he obviously had an idea in mind already that he was just trying to present in a grander manner. Robin only wanted to scoff at his badly hidden intentions… people were so obvious sometimes.

"How far can you think?" She replied instead, and raised her eyebrows at the two boys. "You would like me to waste my time by proving a point to you. The least you can do is to make it interesting for me."

"Fine then." Michael grinned at her, then nodded at Gideon, who nodded in return. Boys… Robin inwardly rolled her eyes. "Since you're obviously not scared of any of the professors, I think we should go up the hierarchy instead. And if you want to go all out already, why don't you break into Professor Dumbledore's office to see what it looks like in there? Nobody I know has ever seen it from the inside."

"Oh please… I've been there numerous times. I could just ask him to invite me over for tea any time, and I could even bring you along if you'd fancy that." She sighed in utmost feigned disappointment. "He and I have some matters to discuss anyway, now that I think about it… How would you like coming along to tea tonight, Michael, huh? I'm sure the headmaster would be delighted."

Simon, Cas and Jorien snorted in reply to Robin's easy teasing tone, Gideon was trying not to, and Michael looked entirely flustered. Alright, perhaps Robin did have a little fun messing with them alongside the execution of her plan.

"Fine…" Michael huffed, then crossed his arms over his chest. "But which professor doesn't invite you over for tea on a regular basis?! I'm starting to think you're the bloody minister himself!"

"She's Robin." Cas smirked at the boys, and thereby brought a sincere smile to Robin's face as well. "That's even better."

"Let's see… We should try thinking about it her way." Gideon pulled a ridiculous thinking face, then started grinning again a mere moment later. "The only one I've never heard Robin speak about is Professor Morgan. And from what rumour says, the two of them go quite roughly on each other in class. Is it true that he broke your wrist once when he demonstrated a spell from the restricted section on you?"

"Oh come on guys, you won't actually make me deal with Morgan of all people!" Robin feigned an annoyed complaint, and at the same time completely ignored the question, as well as the indeed very real memories it brought back. Her wrist still made clicking sounds sometimes… even though Snape had fixed it, after she'd insistently refused to go to the infirmary. "Morgan is literally the only person I don't get along with."

"It's settled then. You're going to break into Morgan's office." Michael grinned in what he believed to be his victory. "It's probably full of defensive spells and traps and other surprises…"

"Perhaps we should pick something less difficult after all, huh?" Gideon added with a smirk and a nudge of his elbow into Michael's arm. Boys…

"As if anything that man does would actually pose a problem to me." Robin scoffed in perhaps a little too much feigned confidence, but it was all part of the act anyway. This was the moment to set the hook once into her story and for all. "But if you guys insist on it, you shall get your point proven. Tomorrow morning, I will tell you the exact order of the items Morgan keeps on his desk. Then you can confirm that I really was there, when you go to his office under some pretext on Monday."

"I hadn't even thought of that, but if you're offering a piece of proof already, I won't decline. Not that we actually need any, with you always telling the truth and all." Michael shot Robin a grin, then one at Gideon who also looked immensely pleased with the challenge they had set. Or rather the challenge Robin had made them set for her very intentionally. Poor them, reduced to chess pieces in a game they couldn't understand… But they deserved that much for annoying her tonight.

She had to admit however that this was quite perfect, in the way it had played out. She had been in Morgan's office today after all, which means that tomorrow she would be able to say she'd been there yesterday without being dishonest. In addition to that, she surely would be able to remember the order of things on Morgan's stupid desk without actually having another look at them… with Snape's help, at least, she could draw that information from her memories. At some point, later, when there was room for it in her mind again.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Robin?" Simon finally dared to voice a thought, and Robin did feel a little bad to play her act on him now as well. He'd been very kind to her nerves as of yet, and he surely deserved better than to be a mere asset in her current schemings. "When Michael challenges someone, it never ends well. Especially not for actually intelligent people.

"Hey!" Michael protested, but went kindly ignored.

"Have a little faith in me." Robin gave Simon a half smile instead, reassuring yet confident in her words. "I know what I'm doing."

"Do you?" Jorien raised an eyebrow at her as well now, surely catching on to the very un-Robin like behaviour. But quite obviously, she also caught on to at least the idea of some greater plan behind it. "You know, as always?"

"Precisely as always." Robin gave her a not-smirk, and was content with the hint of understanding flashing over the girl's face in return. Well, at least one person understood that she wasn't as stupid as to blindly accept any challenge.

"Great, now that we have that settled, I could use some food to prepare for the long night ahead! Even if I won't be the one breaking into Morgan's office." Gideon sighed with a smile, then a small snort escaped him as he not-so-subtly motioned towards the side entrance behind the head table. "Speaking of the handsome devil, look who's just arrived! And- oh boy, what happened to him back in Hogsmeade today?!"

Robin didn't even have to turn around to know exactly what was playing out behind her back. After a few seconds of gathering her confidence, she still glanced over her shoulder at Morgan who just now made his way from the door to his seat. He had changed his robes and also gotten rid of all other indicators of what had happened just a few hours ago… everything was back in place, as was a striking dark blue bruise on the left side of his face. It was as noticeable as could be, a dark beacon on his pale skin. Great. A cold shudder ran down Robin's back in an instant when he caught sight of her in return, and back was the feeling of raw anxiety. Fuck… she hadn't thought that seeing him here would be this fear inducing all over again, even if he was at a good distance to her now, and surrounded by a good amount of his colleagues.

"I wonder what happened to him…" Cas said out loud what everyone else was thinking. "Poor Morgan… He's such a nice person, he doesn't deserve that! Whoever did that to him should suffer the same fate. Or worse. Preferably worse."

Cas' words made Robin feel sick with a start, like a sudden blow to the stomach she hadn't seen coming. They never spoke about Morgan, never discussed any of the rumours that were going around about the things he had supposedly done to her in class. Cas and Jorien probably believed them to be quite as wrong as all the other rumours about Robin they had heard over the years. Only that this time, the vast majority of it was unfortunately true. In the past two months, he really had done his utmost to send her to the hospital wing in a state of unlikely recovery as often as he could. And still, as it seemed, Robin's friends were quite as fond of Morgan as everyone else. Gods… Robin really did feel sick now.

"Perhaps he just walked into something, or had an accident with his work…" Simon suggested with a small shrug. "It doesn't seem too serious either way, if he's here at dinner now and not in the hospital wing. I'm sure he's taken good care of."

"He will be fine, I'm sure of that." Jorien added in agreement, reassuringly as well as hopeful for just that. "And I'm sure whatever or whoever did this to him got what they deserve. He knows what he's doing after all; nobody in their right mind would attack a defense teacher."

Robin's stomach was in even tighter knots upon the realization that indeed all of her friends were seriously concerned about the professor, as if he had done anything to warrant such sentiments. Concerned, and in obvious favour of. She clenched her teeth, took a deep breath, then put on her best neutral facade. They didn't know what she knew. They didn't know what kind of a man he truly was. But that didn't stop their behaviour from hurting Robin. Didn't soothe the stab in the back she felt. She took another deep breath. Be rational about this, try to see things from their side. How could they possibly like him? Why?

Perhaps he was acting differently with them, a different man under different circumstances. Perhaps he wasn't as easily put into a box as she wanted him to be. He couldn't be the same person to them as he was to her, if even Jorien – who picked up on almost as many hidden clues about a person as Robin did herself – was in favour of him. Perhaps it was Robin who was the problem. Yes really, it only made too much sense. Morgan, the man who everyone just loved and cared for, and she, Robin, the girl who everyone despised and feared no matter what she did. When being rational indeed, the answer to which one of them both was the problem here was a simple one after all. In the end, the world liked Morgan better. In the end indeed, they would either mourn his death or turn their back on hers in celebration of his victory. That thought was deeply unsettling to Robin all of a sudden, perhaps even more than Morgan's presence. The world would always like him better, even if Robin turned her back on either.

But then there was Snape. He didn't fit the pattern the dark parts of her mind were trying to recognize here, didn't fall into line with the vast majority of people. Or with anyone really, but her. With her he stood together, had always, would always. The thought made Robin smile ever so slightly against all odds. He saw more of her than all the others, knew more of her truth than anyone else, and he still was on her side of matters after all. He was on her side, against the world. Perhaps her friends would be too, if they knew what she knew. Yes, that was a reassuring thought for once: They would stand with her, if they knew that there were sides to pick in the first place. But until they could know, she would have to live with them being in favour of both her and Morgan. Perhaps, they would never have to know about any of this.

It was then that dinner was finally sent up, and it was then as well that she felt the familiar tingle in the back of her mind. Seeing as her friends had long moved on from the previous topic and now started indulging in their meals, Robin dared to look over her shoulder and towards the head table once more. A brief and careful glimpse told her that Morgan was deep in conversation with Sprout now, so her eyes finally landed on the man she had meant to seek out. Their gaze met, and she smiled when his presence became a gentle caress of her mind once more, taking away both the tension and the headache with a start. Gods, she could finally breathe again.

'You gave him that black eye, didn't you?' Snape's words, his voice filled with a subtle pleasedness, rang out clear as ever in her mind, and Robin was only mildly surprised by the not entirely new mode of conversation. They often shared emotions this way, or memories like earlier today, but she was pleased to find that it worked just fine to have an actual conversation too. Even, or especially at a distance like this, and without anyone else taking notice.

'Obviously. You saw how my fist met his face, and probably also felt how badly that hurt my hand in return.' She replied in the closest thing she could imagine a half smile to sound like. He would understand that.

'I did indeed.' His words were succeeded by the strong feelings of pride and admiration that were most definitely intentionally shared, and Robin's smile widened while she did avert her eyes however to not make it too obvious what she was smiling about. Or rather who she was smiling at. It wouldn't be good to get caught staring at him like that.

'Very true, it would likely cause us even more problems.' He commented on her thought even now that she was finally setting out to heave some food onto her plate. When she looked back at him, his eyes were set on his own dinner, with only the briefest glimpse up at her for a broken second of acknowledgement. So this also worked without sight, even at a distance… interesting. Robin looked back down to her meal and shared with him the wave of relief she felt upon his presence in her mind. She could feel him smile in return. Slowly, the fear and hurt in her mind became thus replaced by warmth.

'If you're in my mind already, you might as well take a look at the outcome of the conversation I just had to endure.' She finally phrased in actual words again, when she felt his presence lingering even after a while of comfortable silence on either side. Honestly, she was glad that she didn't have to be alone with her thoughts right now. So she showed him the outcome of the discussion with Gideon and Michael.

'A challenge? How imbecilic is that…' He scoffed after a moment of going through what she put on display for him to see. Robin sent a wordless agreement in return, then he added, 'It was a brilliant idea to use it as a cover for our doings though, under these circumstances.'

'Why thank you.' The smile that came onto her face as she chewed her green beans was very real and visible to her surroundings, in contrast to the wordless conversation they were having at least. 'The idea to do them a favour just wasn't entirely working out the way I planned, so I had to switch strategies. This challenge, no matter how idiotic I personally find it, is both a cover story and an alibi that reveals neither your involvement nor our actual plans for tonight to anyone involved.'

'Clever.' He replied, and Robin returned the feeling of how pleased she was upon the praise. She felt him smirk for a moment, before he finally made another comment. 'I am thoroughly disappointed in the dunderhead gang for taking pity on Morgan though, even if they do not know any better. Are you certain you don't want to give all of them detention tomorrow? They could scrub some cauldrons while we watch them with a coffee.'

Robin let out a rather loud snort, a real one, and it drew her friends' attention to her in an instant. Oh dear… perhaps she needed some more practice in having a mental conversation while in the physical presence of other people at the same time. She hadn't even been listening to the real conversation going on around her at all!

'It seems that they just realized the very same thing.' Snape's smirk was so palpable in her mind that Robin rolled her eyes for real, which didn't help the situation and only made her friends stare openly at her as if waiting for an explanation for her odd behaviour. 'Redundant of them to expect any differently. It shouldn't come as a surprise to them anymore that you are indeed quite odd.'

"Oh, do shut up already, will you?!" Robin groaned in her head as well as out loud, and her entire group of friends frowned at her in even more confusion. Great… Now she certainly did seem insane after all! In her mind, she heard Snape's low chuckle echoing all through her being for a moment, before he left her to deal with her surroundings by herself for now. Insufferable idiot… But the smile he had brought back to her lips stayed there even as she joined back into the usual banter with her friends, without any more mention of Morgan or the black eye Robin was proud to have given him after all.

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[talpup]

Summary: Yami Sukehiro just wanted to join the Magic Knights and make his mentor proud. He knew there would be trails. He knew trouble would come his way. Knew he would be faced with discrimination for being a foreigner and a peasant. What he didn’t know. Didn’t expect. Was that literal Chaos would come his way. That he and his mentor’s sister would be at the center of world ending trouble. Or that he would fall in love with his mentor’s sister and face more than discrimination; but the jealously of Nozel Silva who loved the same woman he did.

Please remember this fic is rated mature and has warnings of violence, abuse, sexual tension, sexual behavior, and other possible triggers. For a full list of story tags please check the fics AO3 (link to that at the top of my tumblrs homepage).

Sorry about the late update. My mom passed a few years back on Mother’s Day and last weekend hit me harder than expected. Please don’t feel the need to give any sympathy's. I’m not asking for that. Anyway, hope you all enjoy.

Chapter 98

“Light cannot exist without Darkness for without Darkness how would we...”

“Shut up!” Yami roared.

“...know what Light was.” The all too familiar voice finished.

Yami was sick of the voice. He hated it and wondered if he would instantly recognize the voice if he heard it out in the waking world. While it was similar enough to belong to the same person as the Crazy, Happy, Killer voice that spoke when he and Teris received the History of Chaos; it was also different enough for him to question if it indeed belonged to the same person.

Yami blinked remembering what he had forgotten from the last time the page of Chaos had contacted him. “You were right. The Future of Chaos wasn’t in labyrinth two hundred thousand—whatever.”

“The Future of Chaos is not to be found in labyrinth 297,353. The Future of Chaos has long since been taken and moved. Joined where it can be safe.” The voice said.

Yami puzzled at the word “joined”. But the voice was always saying strange things that didn’t make sense, so he instead focused on another question he had. “How did you know? How did I remember?”

Truthfully, Yami hadn’t actually remembered anything concerning his past dreams with the page of Chaos the night Alowishus had taken Teris and him into the labyrinth. But his distinct feeling that evening, the certainty he had that everything would be alright proved that some unconscious part of him remembered these dreams.

“You remember what you must when it is necessary. Even Chaos must bend to the will of Fate. You and the Light alone are destined to have the Future of Chaos. It is not meant for Death. Death cannot have it.”

“At least we agree on that last part.” Yami muttered.

“The time of Darkness is nearing. Your strength will rise in truth once the Light’s power reaches it peak and begins to dwindled.”

“You’re talking about the Summer Solstice. The days growing shorter and all. Not Teris’ actual power dwindling. Right?”

“The time of Darkness is nearing. Your strength will rise in truth once the Light’s power reaches it peak and begins to dwindled.” The voice said again.

Yami growled. The only thing more annoying than these forced communicative dreams with the page of Chaos, was how the voice repeated itself when it didn’t want to answer a question. Thinking of another question, Yami asked. “Why two years for my supposed rise of power? Teris didn’t have that.” Or did she, he wondered. There was no way to know for sure since they had known nothing about it until last years Summer Solstice.

“You must persevere least the world descend into Darkness. You must remember the Light and not consume it least your wrath fall upon the world.”

“Why would I forget Teris? What do you mean consume her?” Yami was disturbed by the memory of his, or more correctly the Darkness’ hunger for the Light and the way the Darkness had drawn the Light into its bottomless abyss.

“Light cannot exist without Darkness for without Darkness how would we know what Light was.”

“Shut up with that and answer me!”

There was a loud slam and slight reverberation that woke Yami up with a start. He sat up feeling groggy despite having gone to bed early. “I’m awake.”

Door still rattling on its hinges, Jax stormed. “I told you to be downstairs and ready to go before breakfast. Not only were you not downstairs but you’re far from ready.”

Yami shook off the disorientating fog of restless sleep, not feeling all there. “Just give me half a minute.”

Jax watched Yami roll out of bed and stumble, falling to a knee. “You’re not hung over, or worse still drunk are you?”

“Nope.” Yami pushed to his feet and sat on the edge of the bed, putting on his pants.

Jax watched a moment longer.

Yami’s movements became quicker and more sure as he pulled on and laced his boots.

Jax relaxed seeing his Vice Captain become less clumsy. “Did you do as I said? You’re not going to get into a fight with Nozel Silva if I take you, are you?”

“Depends. Braid Face gonna start one?” Yami asked, standing and grabbing the clean white muscle shirt.

“My only concern is that you don’t antagonize or strike first.” Jax said.

“I think I can manage that.” Yami grabbed the two belts off the bedpost, first putting on the sword belt Teris got him that helped hold up his pants and carried his grimoire.

Jax watched the younger man wrap the second belt around his waist. “About last night. I hope you understand my reasoning.”

“Would it change your command if I didn’t?” Yami asked, slipping his sheathed katana into place.

Sorry he had bothered trying to smooth any hard feelings, Jax wondered aloud. “You sure you’re good to do this? The questions Alowishus posed might be unnerving. Never mind what questions Nozel and Fuegoleon might've answered. I told you to work out this aggression you’ve been feeling and you’re still brimming with it.”

“Yeah, and who’s fault is that? You’re the one who said we couldn’t go out.” Yami said.

Jax sighed and turned away. “That’s it. You’re staying.”

Cursing his temper, Yami called. “Captain, wait”

Jax stopped at the closed bedroom door.

Resting his hands on his hips, Yami told. “I won’t antagonize or start a fight with the Royal Ball of Pride. You have my word.”

“I’m holding you to that.” Jax told.

98.2

Walking out of Healer’s Hall with Randall beside him, Fuegoleon found Teris waiting outside. Stepping to his cousin, the Crimson Lions Vice Captain embraced her in a tight hug.

“Leon. I can’t breath.” Teris croaked.

“Deal.” Fuegoleon told, his hold loosening slightly when his still healing wounds complained. Eyes closed in relief and gratitude, shame began to fill him. He didn’t care what anyone said. It was his fault. The Agents of Chaos had used him to get his cousin to comply with their wishes.

Releasing her, Fuegoleon gripped Teris’ shoulders. “Never scare me like that again. You hear me.”

“Scare you? You’re the one who--” Teris stop, unable and unwilling to verbalize the truth. Fuegoleon had almost died. If they had gotten him to the healers just a few minutes later… She shook away the terrible thought and hugged him again.

“Leona said you came by yesterday.”

Teris pulled away and nodded. “You were asleep. I didn’t want to disturb or tax you.”

Fuegoleon almost argued that he would've gladly given up rest to see her; but he didn’t. The visit from the Crimson Lions had taken a lot out of him. But he had endured it. As Vice Captain, he had to show the Crimson Lions he appreciated their care and efforts. More than that, he had to let them see that he was well and able to continue his duties to serve the Kingdom, its people, and the squad. After what had happened to Quince and the lingering un-healable injury that had left the previous Vice Captain unable to return to duty; Fuegoleon felt it necessary to reassure any fears or questions the squad had about him. Once his report was written and he was fully debriefed, he would go out on a mission and waylay any lingering doubts the squad might secretly have about his fitness.

Fuegoleon smiled gently. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

“There you go stealing my line, again.” Teris smiled back.

Fuegoleon’s smile faltered. After what had happened during last years Summer Solstice, he had feared that the Agents of Chaos might’ve had something similar planned for Teris and Yami this time too. When Mereoleona had told him about the labyrinth and its missing contents, Fuegoleon’s relief had been overwhelming. Still, he had betrayed his cousin; breaking down and answering Alowishus Spade’s questions when they had begun torturing Nozel to make him speak. He was hardly mad at Nozel for his own worse state because the Silver Eagle had remained silent so much longer than he had. If anything, it added to Fuegoleon’s shame.

Teris saw Fuegoleon’s expression change and shook her head. “Leon, don’t. If you or Nozel had...” She swallowed unable to bear the thought of a world without either of them. Still, she knew something of the guilt Fuegoleon was feeling. She had been there too often herself. Staring up at him, she told. “If you really feel so terrible about it, I’d be happy to give you a penance.”

Randall stepped forward incensed at Teris’ unbelievable nerve.

“Anything.” Fuegoleon said, head lowered.

“You have to promise to do as I command.” Teris said, eyes hard and piercing.

Randall opened his mouth to call a stop to this; but before he could speak, Fuegoleon replied.

“Just tell me how to make this right.”

Teris gripped her cousin’s arm. “Forgive yourself. Don’t beat yourself up over this. You’re ashamed at being taken by these crazies. Yami and I have been abducted and set upon so many times it’s embarrassing. You feel bad for being used. I’ve been used by these lunatics far more than I care to admit. You feel as if you betrayed me. I nearly destroyed the four kingdoms and beyond during last years Summer Solstice. Talk about betrayal.”

Fuegoleon shook his head. She didn’t understand.

“They were torturing your best friend, Leon. I would've answered any question they posed if in your place.”

“I should have been stronger. Held out longer. Nozel managed to.”

“And then Nozel would have been just as bad off as you were, if not worse.” Teris argued.

Fuegoleon exhaled, knowing she was right. It had been an impossible situation. Perfectly planned to be one.

As if reading his thoughts, Teris said. “Alowishus knows what he’s doing. He’s planned this for who knows how many years. Mana knows how many people he has helping him see it through. Using our love and care against us is what they do. They think it’s a weakness, meant to be exploited and manipulated. But it’s our strength. It’s why we go on and won’t break. Why we fight and won’t lose the war, no matter how many battles they win against us.”

Fuegoleon nodded. “We’ll beat them.”

“Do you forgive me?” Before Fuegoleon asked what she meant, Teris went on. “For our argument. For my slapping you. Do you forgive me?”

If it had been a normal argument, Fuegoleon would’ve said I don’t know, then asked if she forgave him. But their fight had been far from normal. And given what had led to it, jokes of ladies undergarments and learning Yami had taken one of Teris’ unmentionables. With the matter still unresolved, he definitely would've insisted that Teris promise to get the garment back, and probably would've demanded that she also distance herself from Yami or at the very least have some decorum where the man was concerned. But this encounter with the Agents of Chaos made issues even as important as that feel insignificant; at least at the present.

Overcome, Fuegoleon pulled Teris into squeezing hug. “Always.”

98.2.2

Teris had a light breakfast with Fuegoleon and Randall at a nearby cafe. Through an unspoken agreement the two cousin’s avoided mentioning Yami and Nozel, neither wanting to cause another argument. After, Teris made her way to Magic Investigations for a meeting with Marx.

Entering the building, Teris recognized the Counter Clerk Manager but didn’t recall his name. “Good morning.”

Axus looked up from his book. “Is it? Hadn’t noticed.”

“That it’s morning? Or that it’s a good one?” Teris questioned, smiling.

Axus’ lips twitched upward. Scowling, he pulled them back down into their usual frown. “What do you what?”

“If you would please inform Marx Francois that Teris Nova is here for our meeting.” Teris said.

Axus scrutinized her a moment, acting as if he didn’t recognize her from before. “You’re Lord Julius’ sister, eh? You look nothing like him.”

“He doesn’t make you call him Lord Julius, does he?” Teris questioned, humored.

“No one makes me do anything.” Axus snapped wondering when he had begun to show the Azure Deers Captain such respect. He turned away. “Give me a moment to call up Marx.”

“There’s nothing I have to fill out or sign for today's visit?” Teris asked.

“Not this time.” Axus said, setting down the communication crystal.

He wondered what Marx could be doing with Julius Nova’s sister that he had asked for her visit be kept off record. Axus didn’t really care. All that mattered was that Marx had asked a favor and it never hurt to win points with the person who would likely be the next Wizard King’s Advisor; especially when you liked and trusted them more than the current Advisor. There was also the case of barrel aged whiskey Marx had given him for the favor…

Axus’ lips smacked at the thought of the nine beautiful bottles waiting for him at home.

Teris lifted an eyebrow. She had found it curious waking up to find Marx had sent message requesting her to meet him at Magic Investigations this morning. Marx struck her as someone who liked to plan well in advance so the spontaneous meeting seemed odd. Adding to the wonder of it was the timing; Nozel was being debriefed at Magic Knights Headquarters at this very moment. And now she didn’t have to sign in when all visitors had to do so, unless they were the Wizard King or Magic Knights Commander.

The two turned at the sound of a door opening.

“Thank you, Axus.” Marx stayed at the door behind the front counter.

Teris gave the Counter Manager a departing smile. “Thank you.”

Axus didn’t know if it was her cheery demeanor or the fact that she remembered he existed once she had gotten what she wanted; but he found his lips tugging upward again. He pulled them back down with a grunt and inclined his head.

Teris followed Marx down a long hall and up several flights of stairs.

Marx opened a final door for her and entered behind, closing it shut. He gestured to the rectangular table. “Please, have a seat. I’m sure you’re wondering why I called you here.”

“To show me something you couldn’t take out of here?” Teris guessed.

Marx paused in his trek around the table.

Teris shrugged a shoulder. “Why else would you ask for a secret meeting here when we’re having a secret meeting with everyone else this evening? That’s what this is, isn’t it? I didn’t have to sign in, and I’m sure Advisor Ellara is sitting in on Nozel’s debriefing which is going on right now.”

Marx blinked, mildly impressed by her deduction. He blinked again when Teris changed the subject with barely a pausing breath.

“Have you figured out who might've moved the Future of Chaos? Or where they moved it?” Teris asked.

“Magic Investigations is working on that. As are Julius and I.” Marx sank into the straight backed chair across from her. “Are you disappointed the Future of Chaos wasn’t in the labyrinth?”

“Hardly. Alowishus would’ve got it.”

Marx shook his head. “That’s not what I meant. I mean do you want the Future of Chaos?”

Teris frowned. “No. The History of Chaos has been more than enough trouble. I’d be crazy to want to add to it. Even if, when, we’ve moved passed this mess and done away with the Agents of Chaos; I still wouldn’t want the Future of Chaos. It’s too much responsibility.”

“What if someone else were to find it?” Marx wondered.

“I’d feel sorry for them, but glad that stupid prophecy was wrong and it wasn’t Yami and me.” Teris answered, without hesitance.

“But wouldn’t you at least want to have a look at it?” Marx asked.

“I admit my curiosity can be comparable to Julius’. It’s certainly seen me get into enough trouble over the years. But when it comes to the Future of Chaos, I have no interest in ever seeing the thing. I’d probably be like Yami and have ignored the History of Chaos if it weren’t for the possible help it could be in dealing with the Agents of Chaos and figuring out their plans. Not that it’s been any help.” Teris griped under her breath.

Marx wondered if maybe that was why Yami and Teris were destined to have the Future of Chaos. Because neither one wanted it or its information. While Marx may not have wanted the burden of having such a thing in his grimoire, he had to admit he had a great desire to see and read the piece. Destiny was a funny thing, he thought.

Getting to the matter he had called her for, Marx said. “You’re half right. I did ask you here because I wish to show you something. Sadly my magic does not allow me to copy such things as detailed as drawings or images, or I would’ve done that and waited till our meeting this evening. But the reason for showing you doesn’t involve you so much as what you have. The History of Chaos.”

Teris straightened in her seat, interest peaked.

“Captain Jax once mentioned he overheard you ask the History of Chaos about the Master of Master’s and Alowishus Spade.” Marx said.

“Not that it’s done any good. The ink just swirls around on the page then says insufficient image.” Teris grumbled. At least after seeing Alowishus Spade for the first time, she understood why the page of Chaos had said such a thing, unable to display his ever changing image.

“Have you ever asked it about Yurist?” Marx questioned.

Teris blinked, mouth falling open. Yurist was the one who had written both the History and Future of Chaos. How was it that she had never considered asking the page about its author?

Seeing her expression, Marx sighed. “Are all the Nova’s guilty of ignoring the painfully obvious? Or is it just you and Julius?”

Teris bristled; but held her tongue.

“Please do so when you get a chance. For now,” Marx pushed a long, wide, leather clad folder across the table toward her, “please look at that and ask the History of Chaos.”

“Ask it what? What is this?” Teris pulled the hard backed folder closer.

“It’s a small portrait that was found in the ruins of an unearthed city. The team of Magic Investigators assigned to the task have been focusing on what we believe use to be the building that once held Yurist’s lab.”

“Why haven’t I heard of this!”

Marx tilted his head. “Do I know of every mission you Magic Knights go out on?”

“No but--”

“Even Magic Knights Commander Greywright doesn’t know every assignment Magic Investigations is working on. You, Vice Captain, certainly have no right or expectation to know everything that goes on in this division.”

Teris’ shoulders tensed even as they hunched, her form shrinking.

“For your information, I came in before sunrise this morning to learn a fellow Investigation Mage had unearthed that.” Marx inclined his head to the still closed folder. “Which is why I sent you message asking you to come, not knowing when Advisor Ellara would be away again to give us chance for you to see and question the History of Chaos about it.”

“Sorry.” Teris mumbled. She was so use to people, especially her superiors keeping secrets from her and Yami about matters that concerned them that she had assumed this had been more of the same.

“We do not know who the couple in the portrait is, though a number of us here have theories.” Marx said.

“So you want me to what? Look at the picture and ask the History of Chaos about the people in it?” Teris asked, not understanding why. “It doesn’t work that way. It only answers questions about the history of Chaos.”

“If that were true why would it attempt to show you the image of Alowishus Spade?” Marx questioned.

“And fail, saying insufficient image.” Teris retorted.

“If all the History of Chaos did was just strictly cover the history of Chaos why would it even make an attempt at showing you the image of Alowishus Spade or the Master of Master's? However old Alowishus Spade is, I truly doubt he’s old enough to have been alive during the time of Chaos’ reign and defeat which brought about Order.”

Teris frowned, having never considered that. Her eyebrows pulled together, wondering at Marx’s pointed question. Shadows of fragments flinted through his mind trying to coalesce and puzzle something out, but something else pieced together first.

Teris’ eyes lifted to Marx, realization dawning. “You think the portrait is of Yurist.”

98.3

Yami found Teris out at the Saber Wolf pens. His appearance announced by the beasts long before Teris heard or saw him.

“I’ll have you know I had to use my mana sense to find you. What are you doing out here?” Yami almost asked if she wanted to go for a ride, but remembered Jax’s order and bristled.

Teris gave No Name the signal to return to his kennel. “I thought we agreed not to do that unless necessary.”

“When I’d still be walking around searching for you, I consider it necessary. It’s a stupid agreement anyway.”

Teris latched the kennel gate. “Privacy is hardly stupid.”

“If there’s no secrets between us why the need for privacy?” Yami half teased.

Teris turned to him, questioning brow raised. “Do you really want to know every time I go to the baths?”

“Do you really have to ask?” Yami grinned, lewdly.

“Yami.” Teris scolded, lightly. Blushing, she closed the gap between them, burying her face in his chest.

Yami chuckled, holding her to him. “Let me see that pretty blush, Princess.”

Teris shook her head, burrowing deeper into him. It was stupid, but she suddenly became emotional about what happened during this mornings meeting with Marx. Her arms tightened around Yami, seeking his soothing strength. She didn’t even know what she was so distressed about. It wasn’t like the History of Chaos could have been talking about Alowishus. No one could be that old. Then again the man did use corpse magic. And when had anything surrounding Chaos or the works Yurist wrote not spelled some kind of terrible for them.

Yami looked down at the top of her head, growing serious. “What’s this?”

Teris shook her head again.

Yami frowned, a sudden swell of anger bubbling inside him. His teeth ground together, muscle in his jaw ticking in cold burning rage. His arms tightened around Teris. He couldn’t even say what he was so mad about. All he knew was that Teris was upset and he wanted to obliterate whatever had upset her. Pressing his lips to the crown of her head, Yami’s eyes slipped closed. He took in a deep breath and slowly exhaled, soaking in Teris’ calming warmth. With effort he forced his fisted hands to relax and uncurl; reasoning with himself that he didn’t even know if it was something or someone he could hit.

“Teris. What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.” Teris mumbled against Yami’s strong chest, praying that it truly was nothing.

“Look at me and say that.”

Teris lift her head at Yami’s tone. He sounded angry. But when her eyes met his there was nothing but love and concern.

Yami caressed her cheek. “Talk to me, Ikigai. Tell me what’s wrong.”

98.4

Iban paused in plucking mushrooms and looked at a bird flying overhead. Unlike the other creatures of the forest, the Jay wasn’t startled away by the slithering presence of the person who stalked closer. Odd, since Jay’s were rarely seen without their mate nearby and Iban’s keen eyes hadn’t seen the flashier male.

Leveling his head, Iban turned to the stalking presence. “It doesn’t matter how quiet you are. I always know when you’re about.”

“Why haven’t you mentioned that the Darkness within Yami had reach such strength so soon?” Ellara demanded, getting right to the point.

“I figured your plaything would have told you. Whether he wanted to or not.” Iban said.

“I’ve used Olsen far too much of late.” Ellara told, angry she had been forced to use him at all.

“Is that not what he is for?” Iban questioned.

“What’s it matter to you what I use him for? It’s you who had a deal with the Master.” Ellara said.

“A forced deal to stay out of your way and not interfere with your Master’s plans, or tell anyone anything I know.” Iban said.

“And have you kept that deal?” Ellara asked.

Iban thought of the bit about his family's past that he had told Yami, and what little he had told Jax three weeks ago. Clearly the vow of silence Alowishus had forced him into seemed to think he had kept the deal since the people he cared about were still alive.

Iban wondered if the Captain had found the journal he had told him about. The journal that had belonged to one of the earlier Agents of Chaos’ Masters. The Master who had battled and lost to the Clover Kingdoms last light magic user before Teris. Jax had returned five days after Iban had told where he might find the journal only to leave with Yami and Teris shortly after returning. It wasn’t as if Iban was going to ask the Captain if he had found the thing. He had tested Jax enough with his comments about Bronn the day he revealed what few secrets he could. He had certainly tested the binding vow and jeopardized his loved ones enough.

Looking at Ellara, Iban answered. “My family's existence depends on that deal. Your Master made sure of that.”

Ellara glared, not trusting him.

“Though was such care necessary when a simple traitor could turn himself in and confess all your Master's plans? No doubt your puppet Sir Jorah, along with Magic Knights Commander Greywright and countless others know all about your Master's plans by now.” Iban said.

“As if the Master is careless enough to let a low level follower know his plans.” Ellara shot back.

“Do you know his plans?” Iban asked, pointedly. “Wife and follower you may be, but people like your husband and Master hold all sorts of secrets. Like how to kill a traitor from afar.”

Ellara’s eyes widened. After Greywright had stolen point in dealing with the traitor Flic, she had returned to her office and sent word to Alowishus. Her Master's brief response had been clear. She was to stay well away from the prisoner. When Flic had died yesterday evening, she knew Alowishus had been the cause; but figured he had sent some other follower to infect or slowly poison Flic.

Iban’s golden eyes seemed to glow in the heavily shaded forest. “I know a dark magic decay spell with I hear of its symptoms. It is a slow, terrible way to die. Does your Master have a piece of all his followers? How did he manage to get each of you to willing hand a piece of yourselves over?”

“What do you mean?” Ellara asked, breathless.

“I suppose your Master or some loyal follower could have been lucky. Found some bit of Flic’s person to use for the spell. But Alowishus Spade does not strike me as the type of person to leave things to luck. If I were to guess, I would say it came in the form of an initiation ritual for joining the Agents of Chaos. It is how I would have done it. Something easily done and given with little to no question, and soon forgotten about in the joyous rapture of family found and collective cause.” Sensing Ellara’s quickening heartbeat, Iban cooed. “Do not beat yourself up, Advisor. You are hardly alone in being tricked into willingly, if not happily giving up a piece of yourself. How many other fools—excuse me, followers have joined Alowishus Spade’s supposed cause?”

“Shut up!”

“I doubt he would do to you what he did to that traitor. You are his honored and beloved wife, after all. If he would harm you, what hope does anyone else have of being spared?”

Ellara sneered. “You’re a snake hissing nothing but lies. Twisting and turning peoples words and deeds. Now unless you wish to see the Darkness within Yami bleed out and start to effect him. Tell me just how bad it is.”

“If I am such lying snake who does nothing but twist and turn peoples words and deeds, why would you believe anything I say?” Iban asked.

“Do you want the power within Yami to consume him? The Darkness inside is greater than expected.”

“Greater than you expected.” Iban corrected. “I knew from the start that Yami Sukehiro was more than just a vessel for the Darkness. As to your question. No. I do not wish to see the Darkness consume him. The world would end if it did. Which makes me wonder why your Master wouldn’t want that. Isn’t that the purpose of all this? To end this existence in the foolish hope of beginning the next? Unless that is not his true goal.” Before Ellara could speak, he went on. “As for how bad it is. The Darkness in Yami is already bleeding out and affecting him. He has been more volatile. Angrier than usually. Possibly even more desirous of Teris and the Light that is inside her.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? The deal--”

“The deal made with your Master does not include feeding you information. That is something you tried to force upon me. I went along with for a time because it was fun and suited me. But I have long since grown weary of it. If you want such information, try affecting your plaything. Not that you will get anything of use. Olsen has little care unless it is for life's beauty or the romantic. Even if he were around more, he would not see much.”

Ellara raised a brow, realizing. “You’re protective of your sole friend.”

“Hardly.” Iban silently cursed, unable to make himself believe the lie let alone convince her of it.

“So Iban Halvor does have a heart. Interesting.” Ellara would've been glad to have something to use against the Blood Mage. But her own care for Olsen wouldn’t let her hurt him to force Iban into anything.

Iban watched Ellara turn around and step away.

“The Darkness within Yami cannot overtake him before it is time. We will handle it.” Ellara said.

It was an effort for Iban not to use his magic to end the woman then and there. Thankfully she used her transportation charm and disappeared before his control was tested further. No longer in the mood to be surrounded by life and fresh air, Iban looked down at the basket of harvested herbs and mushrooms. He didn’t have all he needed for the brews and potions he was making. But he had enough to get started.

Waving a few bees away, Iban headed back to the base.

98.5

Seated in his bedroom, Bran’s eyes cleared. Even though the encounter he had witnessed had happened deep inside the property’s forest, he turned to the closed door half expecting to see Iban standing there.

Comments are VERY MUCH appreciated and really make my day. Thank you to those who have left hearts. And a special THANK YOU to those who have recently commented or re-blogged. It really means a lot.

Next chapter snippet:

“Yami is not the concern here. It is Teris. At this rate she will not survive the Ritual of Darkness. If she doesn’t grow stronger the Darkness within Yami will kill her and the Light inside her with it.”

[cherryonigiri]

Hello! May I ask headcanons for Kiseki no Sedai? Their reaction to their girl being cool and sexually dancing (something like k-pop girl group cover dance, if you know it) with her dance team at a school festival (or something like that).

A/N: Since my character limit is five I chose to do hcs for Akashi, Aomine, Kise, Murasakibara and Midorima, hope that’s fine with you! I immediately thought of Loona’s dance cover of Cherry Bomb by NCT 127 (https://youtu.be/s7kxoMYg3l8) which is so BADASS (both the song and choreography) and Move by Taemin (inspired by Twice’s cover: https://youtu.be/QTfzryUBlO0). Reader is in a group that dances to both in one set! Also I’m assuming the reader is in the school’s dance club/group that decided to do a cover of a lit K-pop song for some kind of school festival!

Akashi Seijuro

Since he is president of the student council, he is backstage helping ensure the performances/festival runs smoothly

Has timings of each performance down to the second — and he knows exactly when you and your dance group is slated to perform

Since your dance group had to submit the songs + a short clip of your performance to the student council, Akashi already knows what songs you are going to perform

Was going to do some more research on what the choreography involved, but you begged him not to because you wanted to surprise him at the festival

Doesn’t stop him from listening to the songs and familiarizing himself with the melodies and lyrics - k-pop is something you are passionate about and he always want to learn more about his girlfriend

While you and your group are on deck and getting ready to go on stage (he knows there are still two more acts before you) he stands next to you

Maybe kisses your forehead I AM SO SOFT FOR FOREHEAD KISSES FIGHT ME

“I’d say good luck, but I don’t think you’ll need it darling” afjaofe;ja;feka

You’re Akashi fucking Seijuro’s girlfriend - he has high standards and probably would date someone who is equally as hardworking + high achieving as him 

Besides, outside of basketball he knows Rakuzan has an equally formidable dance program so the boy knows you are talented

Is so impressed when you start dancing to Cherry Bomb - the choreography is intense and requires so much synchronization as you switch between all the complex formations - he thinks you could teach the basketball team a thing or two about teamwork

You go HARD with the tutting at the end before you start doing edging your feet out until you’re almost doing the splits - Akashi respects how much strength and training went into performing the dance break + ending flawlessly

When the music changes to Move he is STARING at you - eyes are glued to your form as you perform

The moves are so sensual and he can see how you intensely look out into the audience - he can sense the sexual tension that fills the room 

At the same time is awed by how much control you have over your body - he can see how every movement is planned, from the position of your hands to the way you shift your weight between each dance move

As your hands glide along your body, he can’t help but get slightly turned on

Also glares at all the male members of the student body who are looking at you a little too intently

When you finish your set he calmly hands you a water bottle while smiling proudly

May ask you for a private encore later

Aomine Daiki

You mention the performance in passing, probably while you and Aomine are having lunch on the roof 

Despite his nonchalant response, Aomine remembers that you’re performing in the back of his mind - although he does get the occasional reminder from Momoi or teasing remark from Imayoshi 

Doesn’t really want to get too involved in the school festival - it’s far too rowdy and he thinks the idea his class came up with for the festival is a hassle (imagine if it was a butler cafe LMAO poor Aomine) 

Probably sneaks away from his shift managing his classroom’s booth or to find you and wish you luck (or uses you as an excuse to ditch his shift for a couple of minutes)

He knows you’re good at dance - he’s seen how many hours you spend rehearsing and how much you love dancing (and Kpop) 

Will sneak into the auditorium and probably stand in the middle of the crowd - probably doesn’t see the point of cramming in the crowded area right in front of the stage

Impatiently waits for you to come up on stage, he’s bored and is sick of the skits that other groups are putting on 

When it’s finally your turn he’s focusing intently on the stage. The instant you come out in a badass outfit with dark makeup and a black crop top he grins because you look AMAZING

The music starts and you launch into an intense sequence of tutting and formations shifts that has his eyes widening in surprise 

now he understands why you always felt the need to drill the choreography into your muscle memory, because remembering moves on top of switching spots with everyone else makes the performance that much more impressive

Proud of his badass girlfriend

When Move comes on he smirks - although you can’t see him, he watches you move your hips and trace the outline of your figure 

Can appreciate the sensual yet serious expression on your face that makes you look gorgeous, but definitely does not appreciate the dumbass boys in the audience who are drooling over your body 

After the performance he finds you and kisses you before wrapping his arm around your shoulders

Scowling at the now intimidated boys from before, he says “Gotta remind those idiots that you’re mine”

Will definitely invite you over to his place to spend the night for some “quality time” 

Kise Ryouta

Kise knows you’ll be performing a kpop dance at the school festival and is super excited

He probably helped style you and your team for each song - pulling out some leather jackets and ripped jeans for Cherry Bomb and picking out a diverse all black ensemble + accessories for your cover of Move

He hypes you up all day about the showcase: sends you good luck texts and gives you a hug before you have to go backstage + will keep you company when you do your make up before hand

Is not afraid to elbow his way through the audience so he can have a front row seat to your performance

Made the entire Kaijo basketball team come with him and instructs them to cheer loudly for your performance 

He’s pretty up to date with current music trends and listens to a fair amount k-pop himself so he’d probably recognize the songs you were dancing to + be somewhat familiar with the choreography

When you come on stage he’s already shouting “Go y/n-chii!!!” which makes you smile and you manage to make brief eye contact with him right before you get into your starting pose

It’s like a switch is flicked - you went from being his cute and smiley girlfriend to a serious BADASS - your expressions are so intense and serious Kise can’t help but be drawn in

When he hears the opening line of Cherry Bomb he’s thinking oh shit because damn that choreography is tough

From the tutting, to moving in sync with all the other members, to all the different formation changes - he knows this is a challenging piece to perform

Gave you his leather jacket (he probably got it from a modelling gig or something) to wear and seeing you dance in his jacket is just *chef’s kiss* stunning 

and it lets all the other annoying boys in the crowd know that you’re his because it has his jersey number embroidered on the back 

If people start shouting the fanchants he’ll join in because anything to support his amazing girlfriend

When you all change outfits and switch to move he is dying

He’s right in front of you and you are making very direct and SENSUAL eye contact with your boyfriend while you move your hips into another body roll

Kise smirks back and will pin you with an equally intense and lustful stare

When he sees you after the performance he immediately strides towards you and pulls you into a fierce kiss 

Spends the rest of the festival with his arm around you, bragging about his amazing girlfriend to anyone who will listen, then he’ll take you home and ;) 

May take advantage of perfect copy and learn a duet/routine with you sometime in the future

Midorima Shintaro

MY CARROT BOI — I swear I am taking this seriously

Midorima probably doesn’t listen to too much kpop - he prefers being able to enjoy the lyrics of a song and listening to Japanese music means he won’t have to look up lyric translations

Maybe has heard some Japanese versions of kpop songs on the radio, but is overall unfamiliar with the genre (context: Since Japan has such a huge market for K-pop, it’s not uncommon for groups to release Japanese albums where they sing the the in Japanese) 

When you first mention that your club is going to be performing at the school festival, he probably pictures some cutesy, bubblegum pop girl group song 

Is putting this into his calendar and making sure he sets reminders because he is NOT about to miss his girlfriend’s performance

Secretly happy because you are putting in extra practice for the rehearsal which means you stay late at school. Since basketball practice always runs late he’s glad he now has the chance to walk you home

Day of: checks your Oha-Asa horoscope and makes sure that you have your lucky item - he will buy it himself if necessary 

Knows you worked super hard on this performance so he knows you’re going to be fine

This tsundere carrot shyly wishes you good luck before you head backstage: “Good luck y/n, not that you’ll need it! Nanodayo…” with a slight blush on his cheeks 

Makes his way back to the audience - he made Takao save him a spot

Somehow Takao got his hands on a setlist/hear rumors and figured out what you were performing and is secretly filming Midorima’s reaction because your boyfriend is about to COMBUST

Cherry Bomb comes up and Midorima immediately realizes this is NOT the cute girl group dance he was envisioning

Is probably watching your performance intently - he never realized that your choreography would be this intense and physical 

Probably not as blushy during this one, just entranced and absorbed into your performance (will refuse to admit that he stared at you the entire time, even though Takao teases him about it later)

But when you transition to the cover of Move, oh gosh, this boy goes from stony faced to bright red tomato

Is 100% blushing and gaping at you while you perform the sensual routine, especially when your hands move across your body and you purposefully make eye contact with him

Realizing holy shit my girlfriend is so sexy holy shit you thought he was staring at you during Cherry Bomb his eyes are glued to your figure during Move

Probably rushes up to you awkwardly and gives you a surprise hug before whispering “Give me a little warning next time y/n.” 

You giggle a bit, not mentioning the routine you’re learning on your own (Dally by Hyolyn: https://youtu.be/b75eENj0WCQ) surprise him with it in the future hehehehehehe)

Murasakibara Atsuhi

Murasakibara is hanging out in your dorm room when you mention that you have an upcoming performance

“Ohh y/n-chan that sounds fun”

Lowkey pouty baby because he wanted to laze around during the festival and just spend the day trying all the food with you

Now he won’t have his girlfriend to keep him company for the whole day 

When you ask him if he’s going to come and watch, he’ll agree, because it’s at the school and it isn’t too much of a hassle and he knows you put in a lot of practice so he wants to support

Tatsuya probably still has to remind him about the performance on the day of

On the morning of your performance you wake up to find a bag of your favorite snacks and candies hanging on your doorknob

Murasakibara probably went to the nearby convenience store and bought you a bunch of “good luck” snacks to surprise you

Tatsuya and him walk into the auditorium, is kind of disappointed to see that it’s already packed so he has to settle for a seat farther away than what he liked

Thankfully he’s tall AF so he still gets a clear view of the stage 

Snacks through the other performances/skits and gets pretty bored, he’s here to see you and you only

Finally, they announce your club - Murasakibara immediately perks up with interest

Your group has a badass entrance before you start performing Cherry Bomb

You decided to temporarily dye your hair red for the performance and Murasakibara is surprised when you whip off the hat you were wearing to reveal bright cherry tinted hair

He’s watched you practice the moves several time and knows you struggled to master some of them - super proud when he sees you slay those hard bits of choreography on stage

Move comes on the speaker and he immediately can sense that this is definitely a very sensual dance

Like damn, watching you move your hips to the beat and confidently gazing into the crowd, he is very turned on definitely wants an encore from you in private

When you hit the last pose and the lights dim he is IMMEDIATELY walking out of the auditorium to find you 

Sees that you’re surrounded by some newly acquired fanboys and casually steps in behind you to wrap an arm around your waist

Towers over the guys surrounding at you, a scowl from him scares them off

You giggle at his antics because he’s cute when he’s jealous: “You don’t need to be that mean to them Atsushi” 

“Y/n-chaaaan, can we go get food now?” - probably buys you all the snacks you want because he is proud 

Also suggests that you dye your hair to match his purple locks just because

[mrs-hollandstan]

Make Me Love You || Frat Boy!Tom [eight]

Warnings: smut in the beginning (18+), male receiving oral not crucial to the story, lil praise kink, language, cuteness, a little bit if good old parental fighting but its light hearted, talk of previous relationships

Word Count: 6,164

Author's Note: So this chapter doesn't involve actual Christmas, and I think I'll just kinda brief over it in nine, but I do enjoy this chapter and I hope you guys do too. Lemme know and add yourself to my taglist if you enjoy :) 

Series Masterlist || Add yourself to one of my taglists

Everything played out in Tom's favor Sunday morning when it came to his golf match. Not only did Ivey get you out of bed as promised to both you and Tom, but she punctuated it with coffee and drove to the golf course. Tom caught your eye a few times on the sideline as he waited for the other players to make their shots. Just like that day you watched his first match, it was dreary, cold and drizzly and you honestly, couldn't wait to get in someone's car to warm up. What's different and breaks the deja vu feeling is that rather than Harrison winning Medalist, its Tom, the usual round of golf claps going around the small crowd, congratulations thrown his way from all directions as he walks the line towards you.

You both remember what you told him you'd do if he did good in the match and he held up his end of the bargain, it's only fair you do the same. He smiles as he stands just before you,

"Hey." You smile back up at him, nudging his chest with your shoulder,

"Hey stud. Good job." He chuckles cockily as you launch yourself into his arms, your own bound around his neck as you lean in to kiss him and he holds you around the waist,

"I'm so goddamn proud of you baby." You tell him, peppering his face and throat in kisses. His chest rumbles, arms setting you back on your feet as Ivey and Harrison approach. Harrison bro hugs him as Ivey congratulates him and he suavely thanks her, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. Your roommate diverts her attention to you,

"So are you guys joining us for breakfast at the diner?" She poses expectantly. You glance up as Tom clicks his tongue, his eyebrows raised as he looks down at you before he bites his lip,

"Think Y/N has another breakfast plan in mind." He jokes, laughing and rubbing his pec after you punch him, a whine slipping from his lips as you turn your attention back to your royally confused, yet amused friends, a heat creeping from deep within your body as you attempt to explain to him,

"He and I... w-when THAT happened at the club the other night... I promised him a uhh, a victory blowjob if he did good during the match today." Your cheeks burn bright red, Tom's bottom lip drawn between his teeth as he smiles down at your flushed self and Harrison and Ivey somewhat awkwardly confirm the information. She smiles,

"Well... good luck. I see that you're starting to adapt to the whole, dating a British frat boy and all like I have. If you guys... get done or whatever, you know where to find us." Before the situation gets any more awkward, she turns and leads Harrison to her car as you sigh and walk from under Tom's arm, listening to your childish boyfriend's laughter as he follows you towards the notorious SUV he dons,

"Was I wrong?"

"No, but you didn't have to say it like that. It's embarrassing, admitting I'm blowing my boyfriend for the first time no matter how comfortable I am with the person." You lecture, Tom's body suddenly the smallest bit heavy as he realizes you're actually upset. He jumps to take your hand, pulling you back into him as the guilt weighs heavy,

"M'sorry, I didn't know you were so upset about it. I really am sorry, I-I didn't mean to... embarrass you or anything. I thought it'd be funny to crack the joke." He admits, genuineness set in the coffee colored eyes that dart between your own. You nod after a moment of staring up at him, licking your lips as you lean against his car,

"Its okay." You mutter softly, pulling open your door when he unlocks it. His eyes are trained on the road as he drives, letting you stroke up and down his bare arm, one of the first times you're seeing his arms not covered by a sweater or long sleeve shirt. He enjoys the contact and so do you, driving along the one lane road until he pulls into the usual dirt lot, previous tire tracks from his car prevalent in the path. He leaves the car running, turning to look at you,

"You know you don't have to right? I mean... this is your choice but I don't want you to feel pressured because I ate you out the other night." He reasons. You smile and nod,

"I know, I want to though." You reassure. He nods in return before watching you clamber into the backseat again, sitting off to the side as he reaches across and slides the passenger seat all the way forward, climbing into the backseat with you and doing the same to the driver's side seat, allowing for more room for the both of you. You smile down at him as he climbs back into the bench seating, swallowing as you climb into his lap, your crotch rested over his as you lean in to kiss him. Your fingers thread through his hair like they always do, Tom sighing at the feeling as he wraps his arms around you. You run your hands down his arms, slipping your hands between you to tug at the hem of his polo. He allows you to pull it off and over his head, his hands pulling at the hem of your own shirt to tug it off, Your hands rest on his bare shoulders for a moment as you move back against his growing erection, his hands riding to your lower back, his lashes fluttering as he stares up at you,

"Baby-"

"Shh." You quiet, holding the back of his neck as you kiss him again, hand slipping down into the waistband of his pants and boxers. He hisses, his breath caught in his throat as you stroke him, his skin soft despite the throbbing of his length,

"Fuck... darling..." He spits out, hands rested over your butt as you stroke him, your tongue caught between your teeth as you smile,

"So hard baby boy, do you get this hard just looking at me?"

"God you are so cocky, what happened to you? Give you just a taste of sex and you go fucking crazy with it you little vixen." He growls, reaching out to swat your butt sharply. You narrow your eyes,

"But you love it. You're fucking throbbing in my hand Thomas, tell me you don't like me calling you baby boy and jerking you off, I dare you."

"Fuck that, I fucking love it." He pants, trying to hold onto you before you slip down to your knees between his legs, letting him push his pants and boxers down, cock springing free in all of its glory. You hum, having ditched your own jeans just for the hell of it and lean in on his thighs, hands roaming up across his hips. You trace the delicate v-line he sports with your finger until your hand wraps around his thick shaft, pumping it just like you did before, watching his skin wrinkle and straighten out, His tip leaks pre-cum out across the skin of your hand before you lean in to lap it up, Tom sucking in a deep breath as you run your tongue over his tip, humming to yourself at the velvety feel of him and the taste, salty yet sweet. He drapes his arm over the back of the seats his hand placed over his thigh as he watches you lick up the underside of his shaft, your eyes sparkling up at him.

He hums, tilting his head to watch you, lips pursed as you run your hands across his chest and stomach, mouth dipping around his cock. The warmth sends goosebumps across his body, his head tipping back over the back of the seats. He groans, cock twitching in your mouth as you gently bob your head, one of your hands now resting on his thigh, rubbing across the cream colored skin,

"Fuck darling, it's been forever since I've gotten a blowjob and your mouth ... feels... fucking fantastic." He groans, reaching down after a moment to gather your hair in his hand. You hum around him, hollowing your cheeks as you pick up the pace just the smallest bit, a loud, pleased noise leaving his throat. You smile, letting him press on the back of your head, the tip of his cock reaching the back of your throat. You gag, a grunt slipping from Tom's lips as his hips involuntarily buck up into your face. You gag again, hand pressed to his hip as your nose nudges his pubic bone.

He's set to apologize, releasing the hard grip in your hair before you grab hold of his thigh, tugging on it as if to urge him on to do it again. His eyebrows furrow as you pull up, taking a breath and you raise your own eyebrow,

"What?"

"Did you... did you like that?" He poses, amusement present in his voice. Your eyebrow rises again,

"What, having your dick forced down my throat? Course I do. Its sexy as fuck and... I'm fucking in love with all of you hot stuff." You purr, stroking him as you stand just the smallest bit to kiss him. He smiles into you, holding the back of your neck, even as you draw back and stare up at him, his nose nudging along yours,

"The hell are you doin to me woman?" He asks softly, listening to you giggle as you kneel between his legs again, licking your lips before shrugging,

"Nothing you don't enjoy." You mutter before taking him back into your mouth. He lays his head back against the seats again, reaching down to guide you along with a much more gentle push on the back of your head. He watches you, raising his hips a few more times to watch you gag, your eyes diverting up to him, innocence laced in them that drives Tom insane. He grunts, gathering your hair up to guide you along, your tongue stuck out around him as he forces your head down, saliva dribbling down around him. You reach up as he releases you, fondling his balls as you raise your head to catch your breath, lapping up your own saliva just to clean him up a little,

"Look at you baby. Such a good girl." He coos, watching your face change. He knows the look too, he's the same way, loving the praise from a partner. And he can tell that even though you've never talked about a bad relationship, the praise he gives is something you want, something you crave and of course he plans to keep doing it. Your lashes flutter as you suck at his tip,

"Gonna cum for me?" You ask softly. He nods,

"Course. And if you want, I'll cum down that pretty little throat." You smile, nodding and letting hair fall into your face,

"I want you to. That'd be so sexy." You reply, having never looked more beautiful to Tom than in this moment. As you take him back into your mouth, hands placed over his thighs, he reaches behind you to unclip your bra, dragging it down your arms and tossing it aside to feel your breasts. He rolls a nipple between his fingers, a small moan slipping from between your lips as he watches you, guiding you with one hand and palming your breast in the other,

"You're doing so good baby. That feels real fuckin good. Bet you're soaked too huh?" You hum, nodding and staring up at him as you suck more and more of him into your mouth. You bob your head rather quickly, Tom scooting forward, gagging you with each movement before he takes hold of your hair, jolting his hips forward. Your lower back presses to the base of the center console, your hands pressed to his thighs as you gag and slurp around him, his tip poking into the back of your throat. He loves the noises that come from you as the coil in his belly grows nearer and nearer to snapping as you let him fuck your face. He groans,

"Fuck darling, m'gonna cum. You want me to cum?" You manage to nod around him, eyes locked in his as he continues before his back arches just the smallest bit, his head falling back as he spills into your mouth with a long winded moan. You swallow a few strands of it before he draws back, watching you close your mouth, his tongue caught between his teeth,

"Gonna swallow all that for me pretty girl?" He purrs. You nod before you give one last swallow and Tom hums,

"God you're gorgeous. C'mere pretty girl." You crawl into his lap, his lips meeting yours in an instant as you straddle him. He holds one of your cheeks, your chest pressed to his as you kiss. He reaches up, stroking your hair down against the sides of your face, your fingers threaded through his hair after a moment. When he pulls back, he smiles, letting you lay your head against his shoulder with a sigh,

"Good, now I feel less bad about you not getting any sex from me. You did." He chuckles and nods,

"That I did. Like I said, I didn't need it but I am glad that I got it. That was good." He tells you, tucking hair behind your ear. He smiles, pecking your lips once more before he sighs and wraps his arms around you, laying his head against yours as your eyes close. His fingers trail up your back, body slack beneath you,

"Can't wait for my girls to finally meet." He mutters. You smile, kissing his neck,

"What, me and your mom?"

"You to meet my mum and my puppy. If my dog likes you, you stay." He cracks. You giggle along with him, snuggling down into him,

"Oh really?" He nods,

"Hell yeah." You share another laugh as Tom fishes a blanket from his hatch area, wrapping it around the both of you so you can sit comfortably for a little while.

                                                                        ---

Approximately nine hours and twenty minutes in an airplane could be a good idea. That is of course if the airplane is only populated by you and Tom and not screaming, crying children who kick the back of your seats and thoroughly make Tom rethink his claims about having kids someday. Of course, his tight grip on your hand that, over time gets tighter until he realizes he's breaking it and let's up just a little bit and his gentle kisses when he wants to pay you some attention after you haven't talked or such in a while and his head against your shoulder or yours against his when you take one of the few naps, interrupted by said children that make Tom want to give himself a vasectomy, is nice. The only thing that changes his mind just the smallest bit about babies is the way his heart melts when he sees a woman, only a few years older than the both of you, cradling a small boy to her in an attempt to get him to sleep, wild brown curls atop his head and piercing blue eyes similar to Harrison's staring up at him sleepily as he suckles at a pacifier. He's clad in a blue and orange planet footed onesie and once he realizes he has Tom's full, undivided attention as he heads back to you from the bathroom, a small, pudgy hand reaches out to grasp the air in a wave and Tom's knees nearly give out. He and the mother share a kind, loving smile as he passes, whispering a soft greeting to the her and the baby boy before he slides into his seat beside you, his hand sliding into yours and he squeezes. You giggle,

"What?" He shakes his head,

"Nothing I just, I saw a cute baby coming back from the bathroom and for the first time during this whole flight it didn't make me wanna chop my balls off." He jokes. You snicker again quietly for the sake of those asleep around you on the plane, especially now that most of the screaming monsters have worn themselves out and you really don't want to poke the bear. You rub your thumb over his knuckles, eyes closing again and with how peaceful and warm the cab is as you fly over New York, lights twinkling far below, he knows that you're asleep in seconds, letting you rest your head against his shoulder and trying his best to lean in and kiss your temple when he starts to miss you again. And be that as it may, he's actually more than happy to shake awake when the plane lands. He smiles and mutters good morning and how much he missed you before you sleepily trudge through the airport with him.

It's pretty cold, Tom knowing exactly where to go and excitement buzzes off of him as he pulls your bags off of the conveyor belt, carrying the bigger ones. When Tom sets his bags down you look up at him, confused, but he has the biggest smile on his face, even more so than when he looks at you. And before you can question it, he kneels and there's a flash of grey before Tom is laughing and holding something back. It's a little medium size grey puppy, lapping at Tom's face as her tail whips wildly through the air. You giggle, a few people approaching as you watch Tom and his dealbreaker dog reconvene on the floor,

"You must be Y/N." A sweet voice is omitted from a beautiful, redheaded woman in a similar accent to Tom's. You smile and nod,

"Hopefully if you've heard of me it's been all good things." You half joke, something you've learned from her son before her smile widens and she pulls you into a hug, rubbing up your back,

"Tom wouldn't have brought you home if he didn't think you were worth it." Your heart swells as she says it, moving aside to gesture to the man beside her,

"This is his dad, Dom, and his youngest brother, Paddy." She introduces, both men beside her greeting you kindly before Tom tugs at the bottom of your sweater, bottom lip caught between his teeth as you crouch beside him and the dog is stunned on her back, Tom's hands roaming up her sides,

"This is Tess." He states. You smile as he lets her up, watching her stand and shake, trying to climb into Tom's lap before he forces a paw out for you to hold,

"Tessa, this is Y/N. You're the determinant as to if she stays around or not." He tells her and your group of five share a laugh as you peak her interest and she clambers towards you bulkily, tail slowed down, but still thunking away at Tom's chest now,

"Hi. You're a pretty girl-"

"Don't give into the sweet talk Tess, that's how she gets ya. You can't be biased." Tom jokes again, Nikki now standing behind him and swatting at his head,

"Our dog is not going to be the deciding factor on if a girl you could spend the rest of your life with, stays." She lightly scolds. But of course Tom knows that. Tessa has never not liked a girl Tom brought home, she's a friendly dog and he knows she'll love you. And even if she didn't, he'd probably still keep you around because you at least make him happy. But Tessa seems to love you. She nuzzles against you and flops in your lap, lapping at the underside of your chin as you giggle and try to tame the beast. Tom smiles, watching you and his parents don't say anything but the look in his eyes shows that he's happier being with you than all the other girls he's been with. His old girlfriends disappointed and discouraged him from looking at them with such love by asking him what he was looking at while you're preoccupied and you'd love to catch him looking at you the way he is. You look up into his beautiful eyes,

"She's adorable. My dad never wanted a dog so we never had one and I love her." You tell him. His smile widens,

"I think she loves you too. She's crazy right now." He tells you before he stands, taking hold of her leash,

"You can get on my bed with Y/N when we get home Tess, let's get outta here." He mutters, tugging on the leash as his dad and Paddy take the bags he'd been carrying. You follow the small group out to an SUV, Tom holding the door open for Paddy to climb into the very back and you and him to move into the middle seats, you sitting in the middle and Tom sitting at the edge, holding your hand in his lap. Tessa curls around you in the other outer seat, laying her head over your thigh. You lay your hand over her back, head against Tom's shoulder,

"Tired babe?" He asks softly. You shrug,

"I feel good right now. This is somewhere I've never been so my body is alert so I can take it all in." He smiles, kissing your temple,

"Well you'll see a lot more of it. I'll give you a full tour, promise." He whispers into your hair, smiling as you nod. He hums, leg bouncing softly as you drive through his hometown, your head turned up to watch the old buildings pass. The weather outside is gloomy and cloudy, the occasional fat raindrops striking the windows. Tom points out some of the shops he used to go to as a kid, restaurants he loves and plans to take you into. When you turn onto his block, he straightens up a little,

"So are you making her stay in the guest room or can she stay in my room?" He asks his mom who smiles as she glances back at the both of you,

"Is your bed big enough?" He shrugs,

"We sleep in those college dorm cots just fine. Think my bed's the same size if not a little bigger." He remarks as his dad turns up the driveway, putting the car in park. The conversation haults as you climb from the car, helping haul the bags inside and following close behind Tom to an off white colored room, Tessa jumping on the bed before you. You smile at her, sitting at the edge to pet her. Her tail rustles the blanket below you both as you lay back on the bed, letting her upper body rest over you so you can pet her head,

"What do you say you and me take the bed and force him into the guest bedroom?" You joke. Tom clicks his tongue, coming to stand beside the bed,

"Oh ha ha, I'd like to... actually no, you both could kick me out, you know what, fine, see if I ever kiss you again though." He jokes before you jump up, grabbing the collar of his shirt and dragging him down to peck his lips,

"I'd never kick you out. Who else would protect me and lo- a...dore me?" You sputter out. He chuckles, hands placed over your hips,

"I lo- adore you, huh? You sure?" You shake your head and he presses his lips together, not liking the uncertainty and slight sadness in your eyes. He wraps his arms around you, humming at the warmth of your hands on his biceps,

"I do adore you. I've never told a girl I loved her this early. Hell, most the time I say it, they get snippy and up and leave." He admits with a sadness of his own his eyes. You reach up to run your fingers through his hair,

"I'm not pressuring you Holland. You'll say it when you're ready but... in case you hadn't noticed, I can't go anywhere." You tell him. He smiles and nods,

"I know. And like I keep saying, you're different and that's what I love. But... I wanna catch you off guard when I say it." He says. You smile as he collects your face in his hands, leaning in to kiss you once, twice, three times before Nikki knocks on the wall just outside his door,

"Hey you two, we were uhh, talking about dinner. Wanna get some Nando's? Give her a full English welcome?" She poses with a smile. Tom strokes up your back and nods,

"Definitely. God, I could go for Nando's." He groans, letting you press your hand to his stomach as you smile up at him. Nikki nods,

"And when we get back, we can decorate. I got Y/N just a little something in a stocking. Tom can hang it so you don't know what it all is." She directs to you. You smile,

"That's sweet, you really didn't have to."

"Ahh, nonsense, any girl the boys bring home gets something." She waves you off. Your smile widens as you nod,

"That's sweet, thank you." She returns the smile before turning and heading down the hallway again. Tom hums,

"God, that's the one thing I hate about west coast America, no Nando's. I think it's better than sex." He tells you. You giggle, letting him wrap his arm around your shoulders and lead you towards the stairs, Tessa trailing behind. You stand at the bottom of the stairs, Tom rubbing his thumb over your shoulder as the three other people argue amongst themselves. Tom kisses the top of your head,

"This is such a great English welcome. Arguing ten minutes in." You giggle again,

"My parents did the same. They would've been arguing when we met up with them at the airport." You tell him. He smiles before walking to sit in an armchair and pulling your body into his lap. You wrap an arm around his neck as Tessa jumps up to lay on his other leg, Tom grunting softly under the weight of you both. You press your lips to his temple with a sigh, eyes closing as jet lag starts to kick in, your hand laid over his shoulder. He sighs,

"I'm glad you came with me. This is like... the life. You, my family, my dog, my hometown-"

"And Nando's?" You jokingly interrupt. He looks up, eyes on your lips,

"I hate to break it to you darling, but I'd give up Nando's if it meant having you for the rest of my life." He admits. You hum,

"Aren't you sweet." You tell him. He smiles and allows you to kiss him, index finger tucked under his chin. He hums, hand placed over your hip. He gives a gentle squeeze before Dom clears his throat, the both of you looking up,

"Sam and Harry should be in in just a few minutes. Then we can get you guys fed and back here to chill out for the rest of the night." He informs. You smile and nod, laying your head against Tom's shoulder,

"Are they those type of parents that want to buy me dinner while I'm here?" Tom smiles and nods,

"Basically. You should be that type of girlfriend that just accepts it. Don't fight it." He mutters in return, listening to you grumble,

"How the fuck else am I supposed to spend daddy's money?" You mutter. Tom chuckles before the front door opens and two boys, similar looking to Tom but scrawnier and younger walk in. The shorter, more curly haired boy looks you over,

"How much is he paying you? There is no way a girl as hot as this is with someone like you without being paid." He jokes. You smile as Tom grumbles,

"Asshole here is Harry. The quieter, more pleasant one is Sam." He introduces. You smile, nodding to the two boys, Harry of which smiles cheekily at you in a similar way to Tom’s. He holds his hand out,

“Tom told us he was bringing his girlfriend home but… I didn’t realize your standards were so low you’d take pity on my brother.” He continues to joke. Tom grumbles,

“Harry, shut the hell up.” You giggle,

“I’m Y/N, your brother is currently my favorite person.” You say sweetly, Tom smiling up at you. You smile back before Tom scoffs,

“Yeah, not for long.” Harry mutters before Tom lurches from beneath you leaving you and Tessa displaced as your boyfriend grabs his brother and pulls him into a headlock,

“Ass-”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding, you're a great guy and she's lucky to have you." Harry squeals, you giggling as Tom releases him, staring after the boy who backs away. He fixes his sweater around his waist, leaning down to kiss Tessa's head, leaning on his hands on the arms of your chair,

"Hungry?" You shrug and nod,

"Yeah. What exactly is Nando's?"

"This amazing South African restaurant. You get chicken with some sides and maybe some dessert. Of course you can get a salad or a wrap but... fuck babe, this place is so good and America only has it on the East coast. Which, speaking of America not having, there is so much I want you to try. Greg's, jaffa cakes, my mum's shepard's pie-"

"Is there anything not food related you want me to try?" You crack. Tom pauses, mouth hanging open before he shrugs,

"We'll probably go golfing and maybe bowling. Ooh, pub quiz is pretty good. Could do that."

"I don't know what that is-"

"S'alright, I'll teach you, get ya real drunk and bed ya." He mumbles with a wink. You hum,

"Yeah, keep tryin stud." You mutter back, leaning up to kiss him. He smiles before Harry speaks up again,

"Can we get food? I'm starving." The family agrees, collectively filtering out into the chilly air and welcoming you in like an old friend.

                                 ---

"Got it?"

"Mhmm." Your bottom lip is pulled between your teeth as you pin Tom's stocking to the wall along the staircase. He places his hands over your hips as you back into him. He sighs, watching Harry and Sam hang theirs and glancing over his shoulder at his parents and Paddy decorating the tree. He smiles,

"Wanna help me with the tree topper?"

"Tom, I don't wanna impede."

"Oh come on, I hang it every year. I want you to help me." He tells you, wrapping his arms around you and walking you to the tree. Nikki smiles, holding the angel out to you,

"My grandmother originally had this. She's passed it down and... hopefully, my oldest and his wife will get it to give to their own kids someday." She explains with a smile. The look in her eye, the way she elaborates to you her hopes makes it seem like she's hoping she'll pass it down to you and Tom. Tom kisses your temple,

"Need the step ladder?" Glancing back at him as you hold the antique tree topper in your hand, you nod, letting his warmth leave you as he fetches the small step stool, setting it up beside the tree. With a reassuring hand at your waist, Tom places a foot on the bottom step, watching you as carefully as you can place the angel as straight as possible on top of the tree. He smiles as you turn to look at him, his arms binding around your waist again as you step down, Dom moving the step stool,

"'S odd, I don't think I've ever seen Tom this lovey with a girl." He says, Tom sitting in the same armchair as earlier. He sighs as you sit in the arm,

"No, not at all. Y/N is definitely something different. It's nice though." Nikki replies, smiling at you. You lean back into Tom, running your fingers through his hair,

"I don't know if I should be flattered or scared." You joke, Sam and Harry sharing a laugh. Tom clicks his tongue,

"See, if this is how being back here for Christmas with my family is gonna go, I'm sendin you back to Seattle in a box." You squeal as Tom drags you back into his lap, tickling you. You squeal and squirm, trying to hold his hands from your body. You giggle, trying to catch your breath as he finally let's up, small chatter erupting amongst the house before Paddy calls out to you. You stand and follow the waving hand, assisting him in wrapping the last few lights on the strand in his hand around the railing up the stairs. He seems to be the one to have taken to you the fastest out of Tom's brothers. He laughs as you both walk down the stairs, Nikki stands up straight from over by the couch, camera in hand,

"Tom, come stand against this wall with Y/N. I want a picture of you two." She tells your boyfriend who stands, ruffling his hair before he sighs, steps up beside you, and wraps his arm around your shoulders, your own arm wrapping around his waist. He squeezes your shoulder,

"Are you having fun yet?" You glance up at him, smiling and nodding,

"Yeah. With you, always." You reassure, Tom smiling down at you. There's a quick flash before Tom glances up,

"Mum-"

"Tom, don't start, that was adorable." You giggle, pressing your opposite hand not clutching his side, to his stomach, smiling at her. Tom follows suit, tucking his free hand in his pocket. She clicks a few pictures before Tom's name is whispered. You both glance up, Paddy smiling ear to ear as he holds a single strand of mistletoe above your head. Tom chuckles, glancing back down at you,

"I'm afraid we've been tricked darling." He mutters to you. You smile and shrug,

"I'm okay with it."

"So am I." He mumbles before leaning in to press his lips to yours. You giggle as another flash goes off, Tom's hand sliding down to your shoulder blade. His opposite hand comes up to cradle your chin. He pecks your lips one more time, glancing up at his mom,

"Got it?" She nods, proud smile on her face. Tom nods, placing his hands over your shoulders as you turn to wrap your hands around his waist,

"You gotta get her to print two sets of those pictures, one for you, one for me, so when we have a nasty breakup, you can burn them and I can tear them up.” You joke. He chuckles,

“And then when I beg to have you back because I can’t sleep at night and my mum misses you and I might miss you, you can tape the pieces back together.” He jokes back. You giggle and nod,

“You gotta remind me to keep them so if it's like… a year or so later, I haven’t thrown the pieces away.” You tell him, watching his face turn up in a laugh again. Laying your head over his chest, he sighs and rubs up your arms, wrapping his arms around you. He rubs up your back as your eyes close. His heart seems to skip a beat, picking up in pace. You frown, but ignore it, relishing in the warmth and comfort Tom exudes. But you’re convinced your own heart stops when he says what he says, and for a moment you wonder if you heard him correctly.

“I love you darling.” Your eyes go wide as you glance up, Tom leaning back to look down at your face,

“What?” You ask breathlessly, tears collecting in your eyes. He clicks his tongue, reaching up to swipe your tears away with his thumb,

“Its three words Y/N, it's not that big of a deal.”

“It is to me. T-this has been the agreement in our relationship since the beginning. Did you- di- say it again.” You tell him. He scoffs,

“Once is enough baby.” He runs his hand down across the expanse of your neck with his fingertips, brushing your hair aside, starting to lean in to kiss you. You draw back,

“Tom-”

“Alright, alright… I… I love you Y/N.” He says, rolling his eyes and smiling as you smile,

“I love you too.” You say. He nods, leaning in to kiss you finally. He hums, nudging his nose against yours, squeezing you as his arms wrap around your waist,

“I love you.” He mutters again. You smile,

“Well Merry Christmas to me then huh.”

“And a Happy New Year darling.” He coos, rubbing across your back with a warm smile, your whole body buzzing in excitement and love, relieved and excited that he finally admitted he loves you.

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[uwua3]

hi! first off, congrats on the new blog!! i read that misumi piece and i really enjoyed it hehe,, if it's alright, may i request some domestic fluff with kazunari? mayb looking over old photo albums of each other from when they were kids and laughing and telling stories about what happened in the photos? thank you very much and i hope u have a nice day :D

hi!!! this made me so happy 🥺 thank you so much, i hope to keep this blog running for a long time! also, i saw your reblog of my jealousy hcs and i wanted to say thank you for your sweet comments!!! i go back to it whenever i need motivation, you inspire me to keep writing ♡ thank you! i hope to continue making you proud as a writer :D <3

summary: kazunari had to stop living in the past and make new memories outside of his yearbooks with you

author’s note: this is definitely a much happier piece than my others! this was refreshing to write and i treasure it dearly, it’s definitely much more on the humorous side! no angst today, folks!!! (ok just a little, but it’s barely noticeable!)

this is just a little look into a hoarder named kazunari and his sentimental, nostalgic personality ♡ i, myself, am a marie kondo supporter so i love decluttering! if you are a hoarder like kazunari, honestly go you! you keep those knick knacks that remind you of memories! do whatever makes you the happiest :D

word count: 2,151

music: make you mine – public, tongue tied – grouplove (this song is so Kazunari !!!)

nostalgia.

🌻🎨 miyoshi kazunari

it was that time of year again

kazunari hated spring cleaning with a passion. so what if his art supplies were all over the dorms? he knew where everything was! uh, mostly...

(if you ignore his daily panicked house searches which kept everyone up way too late if he couldn’t locate a very specific paint shade for a big project he definitely procrastinated)

so, it took, so much bribery to get kazunari to even consider cleaning out his entire dorm room

(muku was a very Good Boy and already had his side of the room perfectly dusted and organized)

yes, you had to promise to pose as a model for one of his paintings one day (hopefully, not the type of class you were thinking) (kazunari’s suggestive wink didn’t help)

the thing about kazunari was he was somewhat of a, putting it politely, hoarder

as an extremely sentimental person, it would take the whole mankai company to even force him to throw something away

(“no! it has a special meaning to me! i remember what happened when i got this~” kazunari would whine, holding the useless item between his hands with no intentions to ever look at it again)

so the boys employed you to be kazunari’s rational judgement when cleaning that day

(“please actually make him do something.” sakyo looked like he was on the border of begging; kazunari’s abundance of random knick knacks and shopaholic addiction problem was becoming an issue that affected everyone)

rule #1 of cleaning kazunari’s storage room: don’t open anything because kazunari will become very sentimental and nothing will get gone

so therefore, as a team, you two tackled the rather spotless room. the interior was minimal and modern, just like kazunari liked it with pops of color here and there

(he had one blank white wall and you realized it was the backdrop he used to film all his social media posts [dancing tik toks, fashion #ootds on instagram, daily vlogs on his growing youtube channel])

at first, you were confused where all his stuff went until you opened a closet against his terrible and unconvincing distractions

without time to react, you found yourself buried in tens of books you couldn’t even fathom how it all fit

(“i’ve played way too much tetris.” kazunari would admit later on when asked about his immaculate stacking)

“you’ve got to be kidding me!” you groaned, pushing your head above the surface of book covers that have either never been opened or were way too old to even be functionable

“i’m sorry~ please, forgive me!” kazunari pleaded, immediately pulling you out of his own mess and using all his cuteness to make you roll your eyes fondly at your best friend

you almost started ranting at him about the dangers of taking up too much closet space with useless items before you realized:

wait! stop! he’s trying to get you to forget about throwing these books out! you thought suddenly, crossing your arms as you stared at the pile, trying to figure out how to approach the situation

“you cannot distract me. we are going through this mound and you will be getting rid of something today.” you ordered, seeing his shoulders drop in defeat as he nodded solemnly, but accepting his fate without any arguments. thank god for that

you two bent down and organized all the books into categories. popular photography instruction guides, creative advice columns, and all his past art textbooks kazunari couldn’t sell were put into a seperate group because luckily, they were relevant to his art school

things like old newspapers with funny comics were recycled (you refused to let kazunari read them in fear of invoking some form of nostalgia) (also because he had the whackiest sense of humor ever and would die laughing)

it was going well, until you reached the thickest photo books of them all (you had almost forgotten what you and kazunari’s school mascot was)

but unsurprisingly, kazunari had every single yearbook from each year of his education all the way until his last year in high school piled high to his chest

even he looked somewhat shocked from his mass accumulation from his teen years

“ah! i’m so old now~ look at all this! what else can i do except die?!” kazunari dramatically flopped onto his bed, tired of lifting so much weight. hey! his arms weren’t meant for exercise, he was a painter!

lifting his head to see you were distracted from alphabetically sorting the first section lovingly dubbed, “art shit”, kazunari mischeviously grinned as he leaned down to snatch a random yearbook

flipping to a random page, kazunari smiled as he realized it was the first time he ever met you back in elementary

kazunari sang your name as he sat upwards, having a shit–eating look on his face as he started swinging his legs back and forth

oh no, he was up to something no good, you knew it but humored him anyways

“yes, kazu?” you turned your line of sight to the most horrible picture possible: you with the ugliest haircut in the entire world with kazunari’s black hair taking up the entire photo as you two sheepishly smiled for the camera. it was not a proud moment

okay, maybe it wasn’t that bad, you just couldn’t help but shriek at the sight of your hair

“oh my god! you can’t just jumpscare me like that!” you laughed despite yourself. you knew you had to be serious and focused on decluttering, but one look at your past made you remember all the good times before so–called “adulthood”

“look at your hair!” you cackled, reaching up to playfully yank at his mullet as he yelped and lightly smacked your hand away. rubbing the back of his neck, kazunari huffed childishly and pouted like he was back in his youth

“come on! this was the pinnacle moment i realized, i should not be a hair dresser.” kazunari commented, making you remember how you just let a random 8–year–old boy waddle up to you with safety scissors and advertise his salon business like a professional

(yes, you bought into it right away. your teacher had a heart attack when she saw you with a majority of your hair on the floor and kazunari keeping small talk like an actual hair stylist)

thinking back after the haircut incident, you weren’t allowed to chat with the funny class clown anymore as you were forced to wear a hat every day

(it was either that or go completely bald to fix the job kazunari did to your head)

it wasn’t until you received a very creative and colorful apology letter with tons of sad faces drawn with waxy crayons that you snuck out to play with him on the swings in recess

“i can’t believe we became friends because i wanted free hair cuts for the rest of my life.” you added, staring at the picture with a sense of nostalgia. you kinda got where kazunari was coming from, memories were fun to look at every once and a while

at least, eleven years worth of memories after being inseperable from that moment forward

(maybe, you should’ve held onto it, you thought, not knowing that would be the first of many art pieces you would be gifted by him)

kazunari knew he won. excited, he dropped down to lay on his stomach as you leaned against the bed, watching as he thumbed through the pages with ease, leaning his head on yours comfortably

it was rare to find kazunari quiet, he must’ve been like this all the time when going through his stuff, you thought, at peace for once

lazily smiling, kazunari put his finger against your yearbook pictures as he reminisced on the past. something about everyone ever in your grade, how kazunari knew everyone and had a special memory with each person, no matter how big or small

“—and here, the teacher somehow caught a pic of us swinging wayyy too high for kids our age!” kazunari laughed, breaking your train of thought as you snickered at the absolute joy radiating from both your faces as you two competed to see who could reach the clouds

(kazu won. you fell off right after and had to get picked up from your parents after badly scraping your knee. it took another sorry letter and art of you two holding hands with a heart for your parents to forgive kazunari)

“let’s go back.” you interrupted him, making him sit up confused as you swung your keys out from your back pocket. it didn’t take any convincing for kazunari to nod right away and took the elementary yearbook into his arm

you two only had to exchange a secret look before formulating a plan to sneak out, leaving music on from kazunari’s speakers to act like kazunari was still cleaning

you two giggled amongst yourselves before clambering into your car, speeding off and laughing loudly from your successful getaway. the manager was none the wiser!

during the short car ride, you and kazunari played your favorite mixtape of all time

(“you kept this?!” kazunari yelled, giddily bouncing up and down from excitement when he discovered the mixtape stash)

he slipped the disc in as you two yelled along to childhood favorites with the windows rolled down, letting the entire neighborhood know the best duo were back in town

(seriously, there were so many you stashed away in your glove department. all labeled in sharpie with compelling titles connected to the inside jokes only you two found funny)

arriving at the destination, you two exited the vehicle to see the play pen was abandoned as the teaching staff went home for the day

the sun was setting and it felt like the playground was in another rift of time as you approached it, hearing the weak movement of the swings going back and forth on their own. you sat down, holding onto the chains. you hadn’t been back ever since you graduated. it hadn’t changed at all

kazunari opened the elementary yearbook back to the original page, pulling out his tripod and phone he always had on hand in his backpack as he set it up right across the swing set

“what are you doing?” you inquired, tilting your head as he fumbled around pressing different buttons and filters too complex for you to remember

looking up, kazunari grinned as he set a timer for 10 seconds before sprinting back to the swing next to you

“swing contest right now! i bet i could swing higher than you ever could!” kazunari challenged childishly, quickly kicking his legs for the momentum. you narrowed your eyes, refusing to lose as you two laughed over the sound of his phone taking a burst of photos

you realized what he was doing. he was re–creating your memories together

but you turned to look at him and your heart skipped a beat. you never remembered him looking this, different, in the purple lighting. for a flashing moment, you swore you saw the silhoutte of his black–haired, child self sit next to you before you blinked and saw him. kazunari was the same, just older now

you slowed down your swing by dragging your sneakers against the wood chipped ground. you grabbed both the swings’ chains to hold them together

you didn’t want to live in the past anymore. you wanted to grow up with him, too

“what—” kazunari started, matching your pace before being cut off by your lips against his, the phone going off for one last time

you pulled yourself in close enough just to smile. he smelled the exact same as he did when he discovered cologne for the first time. he never changed

you pulled away first even if he tried leaning forward for more, like he was waiting all these years just for that one moment. like he saw you in the same light, too

“i wanted to do that for years.” you confessed, watching as he took your hand carefully, like he was afraid you were going to leave. for once, he didn’t know what to do, which face to show

“me too...” kazunari agreed, seemingly speechless before straightening his back, like he was about to run away. the hair on your neck stood up, what was he about to do?

“i promise i won’t cut your hair anymore, unless?” kazunari winked dramatically, mimicking the shape of scissors with his fingers as he tried snipping at your hair

he laughed as you shoved him with all your might, hopping off the swing to chase him throughout the school parking lot

now this was a memory kazunari would never throw away, no matter what

(no one thought the two of you escaped until kazunari posted the pics on his instagram, both of you getting a scolding from sakyo this time)

(busted!)

[rhub4rb]

Of Birds and Bugs

AO3

Ch. 1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6 Ch.7

-_-_-

It had been an awful day.

Marinette sighed as the final bell rang and the students got up from their seats, preparing to head home.

She could hear Alya and Lila snickering behind their hands as she picked up her backpack, and she could feel the glaring eyes of her classmates boring into her neck as she stood up.

Marinette took a deep breath.

These days came, all dependant on how Lila was feeling. Sometimes, Lila would be getting all the attention in the world, praise, love and admiration flooding to her, and she would breathe it in like fresh air, as if she had been drowning. Other times, she would be bored, and then she would look to Marinette for entertainment, hunting her down and burn her at the stake.

It was awful.

But Marinette had learned to live with it, for some time. In the beginning, the promise, idea, and the hope that Adrien had her back, motivated her enough to keep going. When that promise fell through, Marinette clambered to Uncle J and Clara, drowned herself in the lyrics, and revived herself with the melody and beat.

She sighed, looking at Adrien's seat.

It admittedly took a while, but eventually, they were no longer in whatever the hell the Lila situation was, together. It had hurt, but Marinette was quick to get over it. Over him.

"Of course I was invited to the charity gala tomorrow," Lila said, eyelashes fluttering. "but I'm not sure if I'll be able to go."

The class gathered around the liar, drawn like a moth to the flame, but Marinette just rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"You see, I have this important conference call with Prince Ali tomorrow, and I really can't miss it." Lila amended.

"Girl, I'm sure you'll be able to figure something out, so many famous people are gonna be there!" Alya exclaimed excitedly.

Losing Alya had been like a slap in the face.

She was probably the last person Marinette had expected to lose, but she had been the first to pack her bags and leave. Alya and Lila left the class. Marinette didn't care.

She stopped caring a couple of years ago.

As Marinette headed towards the door of the classroom, she didn't notice the foot that discreetly shot out, tripping her up, but she was quick to regain her balance, looking around in disgruntled confusion. When her eyes landed on the retreating backs of Alya and Lila, both of them cackling loudly, she just let out another sigh.

She had better things to worry about than the people Alya chose to hang out with.

The upcoming days would be busy for Marinette, so there was no point in wasting time thinking about a bond long broken.

She and Master Fu had been meeting frequently, her training for becoming the next Guardian beginning to get more and more serious.

The only "positive" thing Marinette could think came from the whole Lila situation, was all of the extra free time she had gotten.

-

Master Fu's place had always been a place of comfort for Marinette, and after the day that she had, it was a comfort that was much needed. Dealing with Lila was draining, especially on the days were Lila seemed to have woken up on the wrong side of the bed.

So, as Marinette stepped inside the parlor, she couldn't help but take a deep breath, finally letting the tension leave her shoulders.

Thoughts about Lila could take a break, with Master Fu, matters of the miraculous came first, and that required a clear mind and a clear soul. As Marinette took a seat, after a polite greeting to Master Fu and Wayzz, a cup of tea was quickly placed in front of her, and they were ready to begin. For the last couple of days, they had been discussing the severity of the situation with Chat Noir, and whether or not they should be taking more drastic measures.

"Marinette, I hope you've been well." Master Fu had always been polite, and he knew that the upcoming discussion was one that made Marinette uncomfortable, so he was easing her into it. The topic of changing partners was rarely a very nice conversation.

"You as well," Marinette replied.

She closed her eyes, rolled her shoulders, breathing in for 7 seconds, breathing out for 11 seconds, before she opened her eyes again, her expression serious as she looked at Master Fu.

"It's getting worse with Chat Noir." It was a statement, but Marinette nodded anyways.

"He's getting out of control," Marinette noted.

The last Akuma attack had been intense, but Chat Noir refused to take action.

Marinette had turned him down again that day, so he was in a particularly bad mood. He had thrown another tantrum, and Marinette had barely won.

"I know."

-

The conversation replayed itself in Marinette's head all through practice with Clara.

It was a monthly thing between her and Clara, they would meet up at the dance studio, and then go through Marinette's newest choreography. It was a nice little thing they had going on, which was why it made it so frustrating for Marinette that she had a hard time enjoying it. She had been distracted the entire time, and Clara had taken notice by the end of the practice.

"Care to tell me what's wrong, or do you want me to find out myself what's going on?"

Marinette let out a sigh, letting her shoulders droop.

"I... I don't know."

Clara hummed in thought, before a mischievous grin spread across her face.

"You've been distracted," Clara noted, grin growing wider. "tell me, is it someone attractive?"

Marinette snorted, shaking her head at the rhyming star.

"I wish." Marinette sighed. "Lila was just... a little more Lila today." She explained.

Clara's teasing grin immediately disappeared, a look of worry and anger taking its place.

"Someone should take that girl down a peg. I was personally thinking, maybe a broken leg?"

In any other context, Marinette would have thought Clara was joking, but her voice had been grave with a seriousness that spoke of her anger. Marinette was quick to try and reassure that she was fine.

"Nothing happened." Marinette looked Clara in the eyes, giving her a small smile. "She was just being stupid." Marinette's smile grew a little. "She even lied and said she was invited to the gala tomorrow."

It was a small comfort to Marinette.

Despite all that Lile loved to lie about knowing all these people and be invited to all these things, at the end of the day, that was Marinette. Marinette knew all sorts of famous people, Marinette was invited to all sorts of events that Lila could only ever hear about. At least there was that.

When Marinette had been younger, she had never imagined that she would ever live the type of life that others would lie about having. Sure, she had Uncle J, and he had always told her that one day, she was going to be a star, but she had never thought much of it. If something happened, then great. If Marinette became a popular idol and sold albums, that would have been wonderful. But she would have been just as happy working from the sidelines, designing for those who chose to shine on stage.

And it had started like that, too, but then Jagged introduced Marinette to Clara and things changed.

One day she would be satisfied with just working as a designer, but at the moment, there was nothing Marinette enjoyed more than being on stage.

"Those classmates are gonna regret they ever crossed you, Netta." Clara suddenly said. "They will someday see how you are so much better."

Marinette smiled.

"I know."

-

Tikki looked at her chosen as she darted around her room, trying to get ready for the gala before her car arrived. Sure, it wasn't necessary for her chosen to be there exactly on time, but Marinette did not want to be late, especially when her popularity in France wasn't exactly at the top.

At least Asia loved her.

Tikki had been worried for Marinette, and had been ever since the first instance with Lila happened. It had been hard to see her chosen to get mistreated so much, it was something that had never become easier with each new holder.

Tikki hated being forced to watch her chosen to suffer, unable to do anything as they were beaten, bullied and killed, all because of some rules. Of course, she understood the importance of the rules, that they were in place just as much for their safety, as well as a holder's.

But knowing that never made it easier.

So Tikki took comfort in the knowledge that tonight, it was not about Lila or Ladybug, but it was more about Marinette.

"Oh shoot, I'm gonna be late, I'm gonna be late, I'm gonna be late-"

Even if Marinette was worried about not making it in time.

"Marinette!" Tikki finally yelled, after having seen her chosen run around her room, looking for something, for the 6th time. "What are you looking for?"

Marinette's pure look of relief at getting Tikki's help warmed Tikki's heart, and Tikki continued with assisting Marinette in her preparations; brushing Marinette's hair, smoothing out the deep red chiffon of her dress, helping to tighten the black corset.

Marinette had been proud of her design, even if it probably wasn't something you would normally wear to a formal gala, with a tight, knee-length black skirt, and a one-sleeved, red chiffon top, that went all the way to the floor. The black corset was something Marinette found tied the entire outfit together, and it was a nice little nod to her last mini-album.

Tikki was proud of her chosen. She had always found Marinette's ability to turn all of the negativity around her into art, something incredible.

Marinette kissed Tikki on the cheek, Tikki giving one in return before Marinette put Tikki in the black purse she had chosen for the occasion.

-

The flashing lights of the cameras reflected the stars shining brightly above them tonight, Marinette noted, as she, Jagged and Clara all posed for a picture together.

The cameras had been overwhelming for Marinette, in the beginning. She wasn't used to being in the spotlight.

Of course, Jagged, Penny, and Clara were all quick to reassure Marinette that it wouldn't always be like that. Jagged had told her that he had been deathly afraid of looking dumb in pictures for the press, and he had started his career a lot later than she had.

15 years old.

It had taken two years, but Marinette was able to finally debut at the age of 15.

When she thought of it that way, it struck Marinette how long she had been in the industry, and briefly, she worried that perhaps that was why she had gotten the downfall in her class.

Marinette smiled more to the flashing cameras, as she, as well as Jagged, Penny and Clara, finally made it inside of the giant ballroom.

She wasn't going to blame her success for her downfall. She refused to.

Everyone else in that class had things they were dedicated to, things they were passionate about, but it had never cost them this much.

Marinette greeted various celebrities and rich people, all of them having varying degrees of surprise on their face at her presence.

Marinette, understandably, was proud of her achievements. She wasn't going to let horrible classmates and a bad liar ruin that pride for her. Marinette had achieved so many things, done so much good, and even if Marinette disliked being selfish and asking for more, she felt as if it was okay for her to say that she deserved a little better than what her class was giving her.

She was cut off from her chain of thought by Jagged Stone, swinging his arm over her shoulder as he lead Marinette somewhere.

"Mari, you have to meet my old friend here." Jagged exclaimed loudly as he lead Marinette closer and closer to a very business looking man. "I don't even know how I haven't introduced you yet." He continued, tapping on the man's shoulder enthusiastically once they arrived. "Mari, this is Bruce, he's a really good friend of mine."  Jagged grinned wildly, shoving Marinette's and Bruce's hands together for a handshake. "Bruce, this is Mari, my favorite niece, and rockstar."

Bruce blinked, probably not expecting the sudden handshake, but quickly came out of his stupor, gracing Marinette with a small, professional-looking smile.

"It's wonderful to finally meet you. My sons are big fans of your work."

Her eyes widened, Marinette glowing with pride at the knowledge that the Bruce Wayne knew about her.

And his sons liked her music too.

"It's a great honor to meet you as well, thank you!"

The trio quickly fell into a comfortable conversation after that, Marinette off-handedly mentioning that she was trying to plan a class trip, but that the school's budget was a bit tight. They also talked about her next comeback, and when it was going to happen, and when Marinette felt like they had been talking about her for too long, was quick to change the subject to Jagged's upcoming projects

-_-_-

If you don’t want to be tagged in this version of OBaB, message me and I will remove you from the tag list. 

@ozmav @shizukiryuu @cyberkaymarie @captainmac6 @derpingrainbow @drama-queen-supreme @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @resignedcatservant @kae690 @constancetruggle @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @imfreakingmagical @mikantsume @my-name-is-michell @mewwitch @vixen-uchiha @royalchaoticfangirl @thornangelic727 @sizzling-fairy-oil @awkwardturtlez @graduatedmelon @minightrose @melicmusicmagic @kuroko26 @god-is-dead-and-so-am-i @thebookwormfairy @izzynuggets @spicybelladonna @driftingmoonlitpetals @fangirl-food-feelings

[fuwafuwamedb]

A Case of Bureaucracy Pt 3 (Siduri, Hakuno, CasGil)

Thus Far: 1, 2

___

“You will need this,” Siduri told her, handing over a pen. “When we arrive at the house, I will need you to be patient and listen fully to what my boss would like to say. You agree to his terms. He agrees to yours. The two of you won’t really need to take long so we’ll hopefully be able to move you in and have you accustomed to the atmosphere and the temporary lifestyle before early dinner.”

“Early dinner?”

“Well,” Siduri brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “You will need to spend a bit of time with my boss. I am sorry for that, considering what I’ve read up about your background.”

“What do you mean?”

The woman pulled a tablet out, pressing a button at the top and beginning to read. “Hakuno Kishinami. You’re a chemist that has been working amongst various beauty industries. You were noted as close to the Roma brand, a main name behind some of the best products that have been placed on the market. Of course, you went under pseudonyms and avoided any limelight for doing so.”

“And you know why.”

“I do.” The woman beamed. “I’ve read up on your products and patents this morning. They’re absolutely brilliant. I’m actually really interested in learning more about this moisturizer that you’ve come up with. I’ve been having some dryness around my elbows and neck and nothing has been working.”

“I’m happy to give you a sample of them.”

“That would be great! I look forward to trying it, Lady King.”

“Kishinami.”

“You’re married, Ms. King. I would suggest accepting the last name for the time being. You and Gilgamesh King will need to work out the details of how you want the separation to work. He has a reputation to keep and your divorce will be huge news if it is a quick separation.”

“I’ll say he’s bad in bed.”

The woman stared at her a moment before lifting her tablet and busying herself with something on the device. It seemed that, for now, that wasn’t going to be an option.

The landscape outside was losing the cityscape. Trees grew forth, greenery forming where greys and silvers had been before. Gone were the throngs of people and the various streetlights. In their place, there were open fields and bright blue skies.

The vehicle they were in moved up the road, passing through a large and grandeur gateway. The scenery changed from there.

Large garden blooms showed now. Bushes lined the road on both sides, leading up towards where they were going. She could see fountains pouring forth waters, great statuary popping up here and there. A woman riding what looked like a steer, a man standing before a podium, a long haired figure posing with a pair of what looked to be a wrestling uniform, a man with a series of strange birds; she wasn’t sure what the statues were, but she took a good look as they passed, watching as they continued on.

There looked to be a labyrinth on the estate, but she made a note not to dabble too long here. In, divorce, and out. That was the plan.

“Ah, perfect. We’ve arrived.”

Siduri moved first, opening the door and holding out a hand for her.

“Come along, Mrs. King. Your husband should be finishing up with the expansion to the gardens and his photo shoot with a magazine.”

“A photo-“

Siduri yanked him, hard. As the sound of someone shouting could be heard, Siduri yanked her into the building, yelling forth for a maid.

Two came. Immediately.

“Mrs. King neglected to think about preparing for company. Please hurry with getting her to a room to dress up for receiving.”

“What are- WAIT!”

There was no stopping them.

One second she was in her Sunday best, the next second- upstairs.

“Just sit down at the powder table, Madam King. We’ll fix your hair.”

“I don’t need-“

“Do you want a current season or something from the prototype lines?”

“Ah- Prototype?”

What the hell were they talking about?

The women were already giddy though, bouncing over to the wardrobe and pulling the doors open. Their hands reached in like children on a holiday morning, grabbing from within the confines and pulling out a light looking outfit.

The sheer white blouse was already being unbuttoned and removed from the hanger. The purple and pink plaid skirt was being unhooked, carefully unzipped as one of the other women looked through the collection of bottles on the table nearby.

“Ms. King, if you don’t mind… We’ll need to have you take off the clothes you have on.”

“Oh… Right.”

It was just to talk to the guy that lived here and get the divorce done. It could be done quietly.

They took the time to help her, despite many complaints that she gave about being able to do this alone. At least three were changing her hair. At least two were helping to paint her toenails as they bickered about shoes.

“Alright!”

The moment they released her hair, Hakuno called it quits for this.

“I should- I should see my husband!”

The women looked to him in awe, pulling back and beaming.

“If you need anything, we love this!” One of the women told her.

“We love your husband’s videos. They’re so great. He teaches about everything important. He’s an absolute genius!” Another told her, all but admiring the room they were in.

“So you don’t um… you don’t normally take care of-“

The women were shaking their heads.

“…Thank you for your help.”

She had them lead her out of the room, back down the stairs as she did her best to walk in the heels she’d been given. They were a bit taller than she was accustomed to. The satin ribbon felt a little loose too.

“Siduri, our reporters are hoping to schedule a second photo shoot. We’ll have them set up in the rose garden this time and go with a most subtle set of colors to compliment the…”

His eyes were drawn to her.

His mouth was hanging open for some reason.

“Ah, Ms. King!” Siduri smiled, finishing what she was writing and hurrying forward. “Your husband just finished what he was doing. Would you both like to enjoy some time to yourselves?”

“I would appreciate it,” Hakuno found herself saying, knowing there were too many eyes on her right now to bicker about the name and the title for the man before her.

His eyes were looking her over, the man finally quiet for a moment.

It was probably the first time he’d ever shut up before.

“Right this way. We just had food prepared and you both can enjoy a quiet corner while we clean up from the shoot.”

The other was still quiet.

She could hear a small shutter sound the moment that was said. Her eyes strayed to the men nearby, catching a glance at the doodle that was on one man’s papers. Their partner was slipping a hand into their pocket, looking at her with interest now.

They were snooping.

Oh…

Oh, but this would be kind of fun.

Even if it was just for a moment, right now they were married. If he had access to her patents, then she probably had access to something of his too. That would explain the wardrobe of hers in the house, the effort being placed to get her comfortable. Even if it wasn’t, she still was married. She could kick her feet and cause so much trouble.

“Gil!” Hakuno moved around Siduri, bouncing forward and looking up at him with a smile. “Why don’t we spend the afternoon together? We really didn’t get to spend too much time together on our wedding night. You found that poor man spasming and helped see the poor man all the way to the hospital.”

The room quietened, a couple men in the corner writing quickly.

Gilgamesh cleared his throat, “Hakuno-“

“It’s fine. I was so proud. You really helped with making sure the man could survive to make it to his daughter’s first child being born. Who would have guessed the news of the birth would have sent him into such an extreme shock?”

“Hakuno!”

She straightened his shirt a bit, brushing off a bit of lint.

“I’m proud of you. More than anything else.”

Gilgamesh just stared straight at her, lost for words.

A few of the maids were giggling as they hurried to get to their duties. She could see the two men moving over to the two of them, their faces fighting smiles and their eyes gleaming in the light of the room. She could see them practically dancing on their feet, their hands holding their pens with white knuckled grip.

“Mr. King. You never mentioned your wedding night. Do you have a few words to say for the newfound grandfather whose life you saved?”

“My wife can no doubt tell you more than me,” Gilgamesh told them simply. “Who do you think spoke over the phone to the new mother the whole time, assuring her and coaching her through her labor?”

“Amazing! Absolutely amazing.”

“Gentlemen!” Siduri motioned them towards the door. “Mr. and Ms. King are both needing time to enjoy their married life-“

“Oh! Of course! Of course!” The two men nodded, their heads shaking wildly as one wrote quickly onto the paper in his hands. “We have a deadline to meet anyway! We’ll be on our way!”

They ran for it, booking it out the door with yips of joy escaping them out on the front stairs.

Gilgamesh closed his eyes, rubbing at his forehead.

“Woman, what was that about?”

“They were trying to take photos of inside the house,” Hakuno told him. “I thought they were looking for an interesting bit to write about. That was why they were yelling for me outside, weren’t they?”

“I don’t have private conversations in my foyer, woman.”

“Oh, I didn’t take you as someone to do anything quietly. You’re constantly surprising me, husband.”

“Hurry up, Ms. Kishinami-“

“King. My last name is changing soon. Apparently someone made all my patents be registered under my married name.”

[ridiculousn3sswrites]

Wednesday - Student Council Pt. 5

*Lafayette x Reader

*Summary: Burr decides to confront the Reader about her scheme.

*Warnings: Swearing. If I missed anything, let me know!

*A/N: I’m thinking about two more parts to close out the series, and I think this’ll actually be like the third series I actually finish.

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

Outfit

**********

When you got to school the next day, you were immediately intercepted by Aaron. You immediately had a bad feeling, knowing he wouldn’t take your and Lafayette’s explanation without questioning things. “(Y/n), I’d like to discuss some things about the upcoming vote with you,” he said, not even telling you good morning or anything.

“Aaron, you know my rule. I don’t discuss ASB before we have class,” you told him, trying to avoid the conversation altogether. You needed time to figure out how to make the whole lie more believable, and you definitely didn’t need Aaron running to Jefferson and Madison with this information. “I’m still going to be in meetings the next couple days, but you have my email and number if you still want to reach out.”

“This is a conversation that’s better had in person,” Aaron insisted. He looked around before leaning in and lowering his voice. “I don’t suppose you’d want Thomas and Alexander to find out you’ve been manipulating them, now would you.”

Immediately you tensed, but you tried not to let Aaron see how his threat affected you. “I suppose I could fit you in for a lunch meeting, but I will have to leave early to meet some people I’m working on a group project with.”

“That will work just fine. It’ll be a quick conversation anyways.” Aaron began walking away then, apparently done with the conversation at hand. “I’ll see you at lunch, (y/n).”

You rolled your eyes, immediately getting annoyed with him despite the panic that was threatening to take over. You didn’t even have a plan for where to meet, and he’d already walked away. You began heading over to your first class, trying to figure out a game plan for all of this. Of course Aaron Burr would be the one to ruin your plans, he was always the snake of the class. You either had to convince him that he was wrong about your intentions (even though he wasn’t), he could benefit more from working with you, or it just completely wasn’t worth it to expose your plan to Jefferson and Alexander. 

You had four periods to come up with a way to outsmart Aaron, and you were really having trouble with it. If you were being honest, you only truly had three periods to come up with a plan since your fourth period was filled with meetings. Damn your plan to avoid Thomas and Alexander. You didn’t want to ask Lafayette for help, knowing he was uncomfortable with lying when it wasn’t completely necessary and not wanting to rope him into your scheme any more than you already had. It was fine if Aaron dragged your name through the mud, but you would be damned if he did the same to Lafayette.

After a meeting with the head custodian, you received a text from Aaron.

From: Burr 10:45 am

Meet in the chemistry lab. Come alone.

Once again, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Of course Aaron would send something so ominous about a meeting concerning ASB matters. He always had an affinity for the dramatic, though his reputation would argue otherwise. You figured you could continue with the lie Lafayette had so gracefully started for you, and then say you truly weren’t sure about the budget vote because of the added stresses of planning something for your parents’ anniversary. Even if Burr had a reputation for only looking out for himself, truly he would be able to understand doing something nice for others, even if it added onto your workload.

Oh, who were you kidding? This was Aaron Burr you were talking about. You were sure he came out of the womb already planning how he could work this whole ‘life’ thing in his favor. As much as you wanted to believe there was a human side to Aaron, you knew everything he did was calculated. He wouldn’t approach you with this potential blackmail if he wasn’t sure the allegations were credible. You didn’t know how he’d figured it out just from the little snippet of conversation he’d overheard, but he did it. You were sure he’d do some big reveal where he explained how you’d gone wrong, and you were honestly kind of curious to see what he would come up with.

Once the bell for lunch rang, you quickly excused yourself from your conversation with Laf, saying you needed to go to your group project meeting. He was a little confused since you’d told him before your meeting was during the second half of lunch, but he let you go without much questioning. When you got to the chemistry lab, the door was locked. You looked around the hall, seeing if there was anyone around, before pounding on the door. Within seconds it was opened, a bored looking Aaron on the other side. “You know, a text would have done just as well.”

“Apologies, I do have another meeting in fifteen minutes,” you said, walking into the lab and taking a seat on one of the stools. “Now, what is it you wanted to talk about?”

“I believe you know what I want-”

“Aaron, for once in your life can you cut the bullshit? Please, just get to the point,” you cut him off. Sure, it wasn’t the best option if he was planning on blackmailing you, but you really didn’t have the time for a long, drawn-out confrontation.

“I know you’ve already made your decision, and you’re claiming you haven’t in order to get something out of Thomas and Alexander,” Aaron accused. “Alexander’s obviously already fudged the budget a little to give you more funding for the pep rally, and you’re most likely waiting so you can get approvals from Thomas on everything.”

Damn, Aaron thought you were more devious than you actually were. You had to admit, if you’d come up with what Aaron thought you had, you’d be proud. You just wanted them to not argue and actually work with you instead of just working against each other. “I promise, Aaron, what Lafayette and I told you yesterday was the truth. I’ve been planning for my parents’ anniversary and I genuinely haven’t had the time to fully make my decision.”

“Then why did you get so defensive when John was talking about how you were voting for the budget?” he immediately countered.

“Because I didn’t want false information being spread about me? How would it look if John was saying I was voting for the budget when I actually ended up voting against it?” You questioned instead.

“So you’re planning on voting against the budget?” Aaron tried.

“No, Aaron. I haven’t made my decision yet. I just didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up when I still haven’t made up my mind. The vote is on Friday, I will have my decision made by Friday,” you replied. By the look on Aaron’s face, he still didn’t quite believe you. The thing was, he didn’t actually have any solid evidence on you. All he had was speculation, and you had to admit, that was a little disappointing coming from Aaron. You quickly checked your phone for the time before standing. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have my other meeting to get to. Next time if you want to accuse someone of manipulating others, I suggest you have more solid evidence.”

With that, you left the lab. You don’t know why you threw in that last jab, but it felt good. You knew Aaron would double down on his efforts to find out your plan, but that was something you could worry about later. He only had two days to figure it out, and really only one day when it would really matter. What was the worst he could do?

**********

You pushed your meeting with Aaron to the back of your mind until after school. Lafayette was driving you home as he usually did, but he was uncharacteristically quiet. It was only a few minutes before you decided to break the silence. “Is everything okay?” You asked, turning down the music slightly.

“Kind of? Why didn’t you tell me you had a meeting with Aaron before your group project?” Laf asked, looking at you for a second before turning his attention back to the road.

“I didn’t want you to worry,” you said. Of all the people you lied to, you didn’t want to lie to Laf. “How did you find out?”

“I was walking with Herc and we saw you leave the lab, then Aaron left the lab about a minute later. What did Aaron want to talk to you about? Why would I worry?”

“Burr was trying to blackmail me. He thinks I’m withholding my decision to get things from Alexander and Thomas before the vote, even though I literally just want them to stop fighting for a week. He didn’t have any actual evidence though, so I just stuck with the whole anniversary story.”

“What did he want?” Lafayette asked, the worry evident. This was exactly what you wanted to avoid, but here he was, worrying about Aaron trying to blackmail you. You were kind of surprised Aaron was really pulling the blackmail card in high school, you figured that was a college thing at least.

“I don’t even know, he never got around to saying what he wanted from me,” you explained. “Once he basically admitted it was all just speculation, I just argued that I genuinely haven’t made up my mind yet. He didn’t say anything before I actually needed to go meet with my group.”

“Chérie, you need to tell them you’ve made your decision. You’re playing a dangerous game now, you don’t know what Aaron will do,” Lafayette warned you. Of course he was right. Though you didn’t know if Aaron has done something like this before, you knew he was sneaky enough to actually pose a problem. If he went through with his threat, he’d probably ruin any credibility you had within ASB.

“Yeah, it would be the right thing to do, wouldn’t it.”

“The right thing would’ve been saying you made your decision when you did. You never technically had to tell them what your decision was, they probably would have left you alone if you said your mind was made up,” Laf mused.

You paused, never having considered that. You were in too deep now, but you could still follow Laf’s advice. You didn’t have to say how you were voting, just that there was no chance of changing your vote. You just needed to tell only Alexander and Thomas that you’d made your decision. As far as they knew, you’d barely made your decision. You just needed to get to them before Aaron did.

“Do you think Burr would snitch over text or do you think he’d wait to tell them in person?”

“Aaron didn’t want to threaten you over text, it would leave a trail. He might tell them over text, but he’d probably want to tell them in person. Not at the same time, though, you know how they are,” Lafayette said. “What are you planning now?”

“I’m coming clean. I’m going to tell Alexander and Thomas, I just need to catch them before Aaron does. I’m just going to meet with them before school,” you said.

“Or you could just text them later today so Aaron doesn’t have the chance to tell them.” You hated how Lafayette was really simplifying things for you. He was apparently done with letting you try to figure your way out of this on your own. With the mess you’d managed to make, you weren’t surprised.

“Yeah, you’re right. Why didn’t I go to you for advice in the first place?”

“I have no clue, that’s something to ask yourself,” Lafayette said as he pulled into your driveway. You took a deep breath, looking at your phone. You were going to have to come clean and admit you’d made your decision before Aaron decided to tell everyone for you. You just hoped they’d accept you didn’t want to tell them your decision yet.

**********

Tag List: @snazzydoesthings, @bagpipes606, @a-hopeless-fan

Permanent Tag List: @treatallwithkindness

[sam-writesstuff]

Merman (Crowley x Reader)

Summary: As you grow up, a man with Ariel’s hair keeps saving you. 

Warnings: Slight child abuse, Ignorant parents. 

Words: 3095

A/N: I did not think that this would turn out to be THIS long.. I really like the idea of Crowley liking children, and the thought lead me here. It also shows my love for mermaids ;) But because the reader is a child, there is no romance involved. It’s my first story ever and ohhh god I am so nervous. Please let me know if you’d like a continual story because it was originally planned to be longer😂

---  

The first time you meet him, you are seven. You just moved to London, and you are exploring the streets with curious eyes. Your old home was a city too, but this is a bigger city. Much, much bigger city. Your parents were unpacking, and while they were they somehow started fighting. Distracted them enough to not notice you sneaking out to explore your new home. As much as nervous you were, this was also very exciting. A new adventure. There were a lot of people and a lot of noise. You have never seen a street so busy. A man pushes you as he walks by and you nearly fall. You struggle to keep your balance, then you see it. A bookshop. It looks old, probably for adults, but it has pretty aura coming out. It's tempting you to go inside. You decide to go explore to do what feels right in your heart. You are a child. The choices you make are simple. You cross the street, at least, you tried to. A hand appears and grabs your collar from the back, dragging you back onto the street. Just then, a car passes right in front of you, fast. Shocked, you turned to see who it is that saved you. It is a man. A very, very tall man. 

"That car almost hit you," the man says. You don't say anything back. You stay silent for a moment, too distracted by his bright red hair. The only person whom you knew with the kind of red hair was Ariel, the mermaid. You wonder if he too is a merman. 

"You want to cross the street?" The red-haired man asks you, letting go of his grip. You nod slowly. He looks slightly annoyed but reaches out his hand. "All right, kid. We'll cross it together." You look at his hand hesitantly whether to take it or not. He is a stranger you don't know, but he is offering help. Plus, he might be a merman. Merpeople can't harm, right? So you take the man's hand. 

Cars stop as you and he cross the street. Horns blew, but the men didn't stop. It gave you a rather strange feeling. However, he did mean no harm. When you two reached the other side, he lets go of your hand. 

"Careful, kid," then he adds, "Wha- What is it that they teach you at school? Oh yeah, look to your right and your left then raise your hand before you cross the street," the man rambles on before you can say you are not in school yet. They did teach you that in kindergarten, though. When he is finished, he looks at you. You realize he is expecting an answer. Your pose straightens up, nodding quickly. He gives you a satisfied look before turning around waving good-bye, entering the bookshop that stood in front of you which for some reason you did not want to go anymore. Instead, the curiosity that filled the exploration of the bookshop were all shifted towards the red-haired man. Or a merman. You think to yourself as you kept walking through the other side of the street. Suddenly, you remember that you didn't thank him for his aid. 

When you get back home, dinner is waiting for you. Surprisingly, your parents are not mad. You tell them what you have explored about the city earlier today. They mumble an 'Mm-hm' occasionally. You decide not to tell them about the merman. You promise to yourself, when you see him again, you'll thank him.

--- 

Months after you start school, you do see him again. You are a now proud first grader. It is a Sunday, you and your parents decide to take a stroll to the park. You are excited, maybe a little too much. No blame is made though, it has been a few months since the last time your family went out together. Only a moment your parents let your hands go, and you are already running around scaring away the pigeons. Your parents sigh as they go off to find somewhere to sit. You'll find them when you get tired of mocking the birds. But then you remember the pond. You jolted upwards and darting off to the pond. 

Your smile grows wider as you spot ducks on the water. "Quack-quack," you mumble to yourself. Wanting to see the ducks, you make your way over to the fence. You stand on your tiptoes, the sight of the happy duck family make you happy too. You tilt your head in various ways wanting to see the baby duck, still, you could only see its tail. You pull yourself up, your upper body leaning onto the fence to keep yourself from falling. There, now you could see the baby duck quite clearly. You begin to point at each one, not realizing how your body is leaning over the fence more and more in your effort to get your finger as close to the duck possible. "Mommy duck, Daddy duck, and Baby du-," You yelp as your body fell over the fence, or so you think. Your eyes shut tight, expecting a splash of water. Instead, your body lifts upwards by a force under your armpits. Someone is lifting you. 

"There, can you see the ducks better now?" 

The voice of the person sounds familiar to you. You instantly turn around, it is whom you expect. The merman. Then you spot something. A little snake. You notice that there is a drawing of a little snake drawn under the merman's ear. How weird. "My arms are getting tired, hurry up kid." The merman hurries you, bringing you back from your thoughts about the snake. He almost sounds annoyed, or is he? It is impossible to read him because of the sunglasses. Don't matter, you did want to see the ducks. You turn yourself back again, facing the water. The baby duck is very clearly visible now. 

"Mommy duck, Daddy duck, and Baby duck," your feet feel the ground again with the end of your sentence. Looking up at the merman, you open your mouth to speak to him but the merman speaks before you. 

"All right. Don't lean onto the fence too much, kid. It won't stop you when you fall," the merman states simply. He doesn't seem to remember you. For some reason, that disappoints you. It has been a couple of months since he saw you but your childish mind is disappointed anyways. You pout, and the merman looks down at you with his eyebrows cocked. "I'm just telling you to be careful. Go find your parents, now." With that, he turns his heels slowly walking away from you. "Angel! C'mon, let's go," he yells at another man who stood far back near the bench. The man is wearing a funny coat and has beautiful blonde hair, but that does not catch your attention. The merman's friend waves at you, but you don't wave back. You are too upset. You only realize that forgot to thank the merman again later when you went back to your parents. 

A couple of months has passed, but you don't see him. You made a little key chain for him at school when you went on a field trip. You planned to give it to him as a thank you present when you see him again. 

---

Two years have passed, and you are now ten. You now carried the key chain everywhere you go, in hopes of meeting the merman again. Two years wasn’t enough waiting for you to give up. Some said that you are now a girl too old to believe in Merpeople or miracles of such, but you still truly believed in them.

You rushed to outside, crying. It is raining, and you don't have an umbrella. Still, you don't want to go back home to get one. Your parents have fought again. Your mother has rushed out, and your father has just opened another can of beer. You followed your mother out, but you lost her already. She has disappeared into crowds of people. God, you hated London. Miracles don't exist. If it did, it wouldn't leave your family in this state. You stood in the rain, wondering what to do, where to go. Water is dripping onto your face, and your vision is blurry because of it, but you don't bother to wipe it. You shiver in cold, desperately wanting to go back in time, 2 hours ago, when you and your family were eating dinner peacefully. 

"What are you doing out in the rain?" 

You don't feel the cold water on you anymore. You look up to see the owner of the voice, and you can't help but be shocked. Your vision is blurry as it's covered with water, but you are sure that it is the merman who stands in front of you. A thousand years and still it would be impossible to not recognize that red hair. 

Despite how delightful you are to see him again, you can't bring yourself to say anything. First, your throat felt too sore. Second, you were hiccupping. Both are results from the crying. Not to mention it has been two years since you last saw him, and you were eight back then. You are older now, old enough to know how politeness is an important key when talking to adults. Also, you worry if your conditions seem as worse as it is. To be honest, it is quite detectable that you were crying. 

The merman grumbles before opening his mouth to question you, "Do you have an umbrella?" 

You nod sideways in answer. 

"Do you have somewhere to go?" 

"No," It is not a lie. You do not want to go back home. 

"Why are you out alone in the rain?"

"I..," You try to speak calmly, but you are on the barge of tears again. Really, why were you out in the rain? Stupid, you think to yourself. For you are only ten, it is the best harsh word you can come up to say it to yourself.

The merman seems taken aback by your tears. He tries to calm you down, but it merely does anything. You are too sad. Too angry. Too angry with your mother and father. Too angry with yourself for being so stupid. The merman murmurs something under his breath, with his hands on his hips andㅡwait, his hands were on his hips. He is carrying no umbrella. Nevertheless, there was no more rain dripping on you. You are about to say something when you are lifted from the ground. Your eyes widen in his sudden action. 

"All right, I'll get you dried. Then we'll find your parents, then you go home." the merman said, adjusting the way he held you. He thinks you have lost your parents. You know you should tell him that is not the case, but you don't. You let him carry you. For now, you want to go as far as possible from this place. You know you shouldn't follow a stranger, but he wasn't a stranger. He has saved you twice, and he is a merman. 

Although, the merman does not walk for long. He stops in front of the bookshop, which is just a few streets away from your home. To your confusion, the shop is closed, and you are pretty sure it is locked too, but the doors swung open with a snap from the merman. The door closes again when he walks right in. 

"Angel!" he yells, and the same man you saw two years ago walks out behind the curtains. 

"Crowley- Oh, dear. What did you do?" Crowley. That must be the merman's name. It is the first time you hear his name, and despite the situation, you can't help but smile at the silly name. All Merpeople had unusual names. Triton, Ariel, and Crowley. 

"Me? I didn't do anything. This kid was on the street crying!" 

"Oh. Well, you can lie her down here."

But before Crowley move, you pull yourself out of his embrace and hop onto the floor. You feel calmer now, and your childlike curiosity and wonder have come back to your entrance into the book shop. You didn't know Merpeople can do magic, but you do now. You look up to the blonde man. No, 'blonde' is not enough word to describe his hair. He has golden hair, almost white. Maybe he is also a merman. Then, a loud noise comes out from your neck and echoes through the room. It’s a hiccup. Your stomach rumbles along with the hiccup. Now that you were in a quiet, warm place, you hunger have come back. Dinner was unfinished due to your parents fighting. You are starving. Your cheeks blush a bright rose. Crowley doesn't seem to be amused, but the golden-haired man chuckles. 

"Come, you can sit here, my dear. I'll get you a towel and something to eat," he guides you to a chair, and you nod. You look around. It is the bookshop you longed to come. Most of the times, it was closed, unable to be visited. The inside is as fascinating as you thought it would've been. So much to explore. It is not like the library in your school. Not at all. The bookshop is messier. Books and papers are lying all around, and you like it that way. Your mother never lets you keep your room the state you want in. Your father will never let you in his room. You have been inside before secretly, disobeying your father, but you were too scared to touch anything. You do as your told by the golden-haired merman. He walks over to someplace where you cannot see from where you are sitting, but Crowley stands in front of you. He goes through his hair once, letting out a sigh. He then bends his knee, landing both of his hands on each of his knees, meeting your eyes. 

"Where was the last time you've seen your parents?"

"My mother is gone, I don't know where. My father is probably at home," You don't know what to say, so you tell the truth. Crowley looks confused. 

"Is your home far away from here?" You shake your head. You do not want to give the location of your home to him. Not for safety issues, but you simply did not want to go back. Surely, he was going to take you back if he knew. All adults are too busy for a child. 

"Where is it?" You don't answer. You look down, unsure of what to do. You do need to go back at some point. 

"There, there. We can discuss this after a warm cup of tea," the Golden-haired man appears again with a cup of tea and biscuits. He also hands you a towel to dry yourself. You carefully do so, not wanting to get anything wetter than it already is. There is a pond of water under where you stand. When you are done, you reach your arm out the grab a biscuit, but Crowley stops you, looking at you with his eyebrows raised. 

"What do you have to do before you eat?"

"I need to wash my hands," you let out a little gasp before answering.

"Good. Off you go," satisfactory looks spread over his face. 

You eat in silence. The two mermen do not seem to be bothered by it. They are discussing something on their own as well. When the last sip of the tea drunk, you decide to finally ask the question you waited so long to ask.

"Are you mermen?" The mermen are plural, but your question is more dedicated towards Crowley. They turn to look at you with confused looks. 

"I'm sorry?" The Golden-haired man does not know how to respond to the question. It gives a positive weight to your theory. If he is not a merman, what is the reason to be surprised by your question?  

"She thinks we are mermaids, angel," Unlike the other merman, Crowley does not seem to be surprised at all. He laughs. 

"Mermen," you correct him. "Are you a merman?" 

"What makes you say that, my dear?" 

"He has red hair. Like Ariel," you point to Crowley.

"Red hair? Is that all you need to call a person mermaid?" Crowley scoffs, for some reason, he finds the situation amusing. 

"Merman," you correct him again. "You are a merman." 

"Yeah, doesn't matter. I'm not a merman," he says. 

Disbelief look spread on your face. You are disappointed. For so long you've believed that the man was a merman, for so long he was a merman to you, you feel like you learned something you shouldn't have. 

"But we are not humans either," he adds quickly, noticing how upset you seem. This catches your interest again, immediately. "We are... Supernatural entities." 

You are not sure what that is. Even so, your eyes are already shining bright again, "And?"

 "And you can't tell this to anyone." His eyes lock in with yours, and although you can't see his eyes due to his sunglasses, you still feel greatly pressured. A good kind. You feel important. You feel trusted. 

With that, all your sadness goes away. Your body feels lighter, and you are ready to go home again. You stand up, folding your three fingers, only letting your pinky and thumb stand. "I pinky promise." Crowley smiles, and his pinky intertwines with yours, and thumbs meet as an approval to your promise. 

"Can I come back again?" You ask carefully to the Golden-haired men. He seemed to be the owner of the bookshop. 

"Certainly, dear. Come as often you like," he shows you a warm smile. The kind of smile you haven't seen a while. "And please, call me Aziraphale." 

"Bye-bye, Azirapelle!" You wave your hands at him, you are still a soul to young to properly pronounce an angel’s name who lived on this planet for 6000 years.  

When you walk out, the sky is clear. It is no longer raining. You wonder if the two men have performed magic again. You feel flowers bloom every step you take. Upon your arrival, your mother is back home too. You parents offer you ice cream, they must’ve felt guilty for what they’ve done. Only then you realize once again, that Crowley had saved you and that you forgot to thank him. But that’s okay, because you know you will see him again.

[raeynbowboi]

What Are My Ships 2.0

So, a while ago I did a post on my then viewpoints and opinions of ships within the BnHA/MHA fandom, and needless to say my opinions have changed since then, so this is sort of an update to the last time I did a post of this nature. Like last time, I’ll be going from my OTPs to my Favorites, Likes, BrOTPs, and then my NOTPs. However, whereas before I was mostly talking about the ships I liked, I want to expand this one to give an honest opinion on all of the ships, or at least the popular ones. Also, if I say I don’t like your ship, that doesn’t mean I don’t like you or your fellow shippers. I just don’t like the idea of those two characters together. Frankly, I wouldn’t even really say I’m an “Anti” to any ships except anything involving an adult and an under-aged character, and anything involving Mineta because fuck Mineta.

OTPs

So before I get into this one, I want to clarify the meaning of OTP as I use it. When I say my OTP, it means one of two things: Either A) This is the only person I ship with this character, and I don’t care for them being with anyone else, or B) I do like them in other ships, but nowhere near the level of this particular ship. I usually ship in accordance to the canon of the work. I look for evidence in the text itself, and I build my appreciation for relationships based on the evidence provided. Though I’m just as capable of crack shipping as anyone else, I tend to prefer the ships with a lot of canon content. Furthermore, my OTPs are usually a pairing that as far as the text itself is concerned, they don’t really seem to have any other legitimate love interest. Bakugo for example only really has shipping fodder with Kirishima. Bakudeku is more of a rivalry, and Kacchako is really stretching for something that isn’t there. Bakugo shows absolutely no interest in the girls of his class, and Bakudeku is so abusive and toxic that it’s firmly off my radar. So, since Bakugo doesn’t really like anyone other than Kirishima, as far as I’m concerned, Bakugo only has one actual love interest. The same could be said for Kirishima. The only characters other than Bakugo he has canon reasons to be shipped with are Tetsutetsu and Ashido. However, Tetsutestsu is very clearly being shipped with Kendo, and although Ashido and Kirishima are old friends, Ashido isn’t around for Kirishima’s emotional growth moments. Kiri isn’t thinking about Ashido when he reassures himself of his worth. Kiri isn’t making excuses to be around Ashido. Kirishima has little to no romantic dynamics with Ashido, they’re just two kids who went to the same middle school. So, like with Bakugo, I don’t really consider Kirishima to have any other truly viable love interests. And sure, I was using my main OTP as an example, but I apply this same logic to most ships, except for crack ships.

KIRIBAKU//BAKUSHIMA

So I just explained why I don’t ship them with other characters. But bashing other ships is not an argument, it’s just hating on other pairings. So rather than just gushing about my feelings about Kiribaku, it’s better to explain why I ship them. Kirishima and Bakugo have equal and opposite character flaws. Kirishima is a friendly character that lacks self-confidence. Bakugo is an overly confident character that isn’t very friendly. The appeal of Kiribaku is that they both grow from this relationship, which is like writing 101 when writing a good romance. The couple need to both get something out of the relationship. Kirishima is friendly enough to get Bakugo to warm up and be more of a team player, but Kirishima also has enough of a backbone to call Bakugo out when he’s being an asshole. He’s able to appreciate Bakugo for the person that he is, but he won’t allow Bakugo to mistreat him. He forces Bakugo to recognize him as an equal, and Bakugo responds by addressing him by his name. Something which is very clearly a sign of respect, as he also does this on one occasion with Uraraka during the tournament arc. Kirishima’s friendliness and determination to be close to Bakugo earned Bakugo’s trust and respect, and he rewarded Kirishima’s determination by treating him way better than he treats anyone else. Kirishima on the other hand is a character who is deeply insecure. Dying his hair red, spiking it up the way that he does, modeling himself after heroes he idolizes, Kirishima’s character is clearly someone who doesn’t have a lot of confidence or self-esteem, thus why he models his behavior after others who he views as role models. Where Kirishima would doubt himself, Bakugo is self-assured enough to put Kirishima’s mind at ease. And speaking from experience, Bakugo’s method works. Like Kirishima, I too have struggled with insecurities, and Bakugo’s ‘fuck what everybody else thinks, do it cuz you like it’ methodology actually helped me get over my own worries and doubts. I actually was able to get over my fears of self-doubt because of the things Bakugo has said. And I’m a stronger person for it, just like Kirishima.

MIRITAMA

If you’ve been following my page for a while now, you may already know that I love me the relationship dynamic I tend to refer to as Sunshine and Stormcloud. That is to say, when a happy optimistic and friendly person dates a grumpy, sad, or otherwise “dark” character. Unlike Kiribaku, these two don’t really have to fight off other suitors. If either of them is shipped with Nejire, Mirio with Midoriya, or Tamaki with Kirishima, these ships are all small fries compared to this ship. So small that they really don’t pose any threat. These two have a great dynamic, and both motivate the other to succeed. This is also just a super cute healthy supportive couple. Mirio has never once said anything about Tamaki’s anxiety. He just accepts that it’s part of him, and I would not be surprised if Mirio has helped Tamaki through panic attacks in the past. This pairing is just so wholesome and cute, I love it.

HAWKSDEAVOR

Okay, yes. Endeavor is a total trash mammal abusive dickbutt. But guess what? So was Bakugo, and now he’s won 3 popularity polls in a row. I sort of view this ship as the adult version of Kiribaku. Especially since Horikoshi has drawn some not so subtle parallels between Endeavor and Bakugo. And the overall relationship dynamics are similar. An overly-confident and proud asshole learns to care about other people through meeting and befriending a happy-go-lucky and friendlier young man who earns his respect. Now, I’m sure there are people who don’t think Endeavor deserves redemption, but I for one have always been a supporter of the “Love redeems” trope when done right. And Hawksdeavor is doing it right. Because although Endeavor has a past of abuse and general assholery, that abuse was never targeted at Hawks. This is not an abuse victim falling in love with their abuser. It is a neutral third party helping to rehabilitate an abusive asshole into a hero deserving of the title. It’s also worth confessing that I have not been a victim of abuse, so I might have an easier time forgiving Endeavor and wanting him to grow and change than someone who has been hurt by a parent or anyone else in the way Endeavor abused Shoto. And I want to make it clear, I like the ship. That doesn’t mean Endeavor is anywhere near done repenting and groveling for Shoto’s forgiveness because child abuse is a serious issue, and Endeavor does need to work for his redemption. But, I am at least willing to humor his attempts and give him the benefit of the doubt to at least let him try and repair the damage that he’s caused his family, because he’s at least putting in the effort to be better, and that’s worth at least something to me.

INATODO

I like Tododeku. I do. But I love the weird ass dynamic between these two. Plus it’s an interesting yin-yang personality difference you don’t see a lot. The monotone emotionally distant partner and the constantly screaming overly passionate partner. It’s a bit goofy, but I like it. Their quirks can also fight against each other or work together for something much stronger, which I think is a great metaphor for a couple learning to work together and being stronger as a unit.

DAVE MIGHT Okay, full disclosure, I haven’t actually seen the BnHA movie. But it’s cute as hell, and I ship it. Sadly, I don’t have much to say, since I don’t know much about their dynamic, but anything that gives the story more gay is good in my eyes.

TETSUKENDO

Yes, I have straight ship. But in all seriousness, this one is only an honorable mention OTP, not because I ship it with much enthusiasm. It just doesn’t really have any other viable competition for either member, which qualifies it as an OTP.

FAVORITES

TODODEKU

I know full well that Deku probably won’t end up with Todoroki. Despite him and Uraraka having about as much chemistry as a soggy slice of pizza, it’s pretty clear that Izuchako is the canonically viable ship. Too bad they’re boring, bland, and completely unremarkable as far as romances go. They’re cookie-cutter standard, vanilla-flavored, and and just generic. A big part of that of course is Uraraka’s complete lack of defining character traits, more on that here. At least with Todoroki, there’s more going on in their relationship. They have a more interesting dynamic for starters. On top of that, Todoroki is a three dimensional person with a fully realized personality, wants, hopes, dreams, fears, flaws, and backstory. And Uraraka is... cute. And Nice. And... nice. To quote a show from my childhood, I could stand in a puddle of Uraraka and not get my feet wet, that’s how shallow her character is. Which means that Todoroki is not only more interesting, but due to being his own character, he offers contrasting or complimentary viewpoints, life experiences, ideologies, and character traits to clash or mix with Deku’s to create a more rich and interesting narrative. The girl doesn’t even have interests. When a character is so hollow that you can’t even name more than two character traits before you start having to use synonyms, you’re not exactly creating the next Prince Zuko. And sure, I was nicer to Izuchako in my first post, but I also hadn’t yet realized how completely shallow and flat Uraraka was as a character. So yeah, Tododeku is a major step up in my own opinion.

KAMISERO

I wasn’t always the biggest fan of this ship. When the show started, I didn’t really see it. Truth be told, I still don’t really see textual evidence to support this ship, but damn if it isn’t cute. I’ll be the first to admit this is a ship I started shipping because I saw shipping fanart and thought it looked cute. I like the best friends to boyfriends idea that comes with them, and I think they’re cute together. Plus their hero costumes totally go together.

KAMIJIRO

Yes, another straight ship. See I do have them every once in a while. I can’t really say much about this ship compared to last time. I think it’s cute. Kami makes Jiro laugh. They’re in a band together. And they both strike me as laid-back types. Like they could just hang and that’d be enough for them. Like there’s a reason Jiro’s considered an honorary Bakusquad member. She’s really chill and down-to-earth, which seems like a good fit for this sparky doofus.

SHINKAMI

A lot of fans refer to them as Erasermic 2.0 and I’d say sure, with the exception that Kaminari isn’t as annoying as Present Mic. For the most part, I like their dynamic. It’s cute, and I could see it building up to something interesting. Perhaps what’s more curious is the fact that ShinDeku basically fell off the face of hte earth once this ship came around. Because I see way fewer things of Shinso x Deku than I do Shinso x Kami, so something that popular is probably popular for a good reason.

LIKES

TODOMOMO

I’m honestly only including this cuz it’s a popular ship, and apparently probably where the canon ships are heading. Too bad I didn’t even realize they were being shipped together until I literally saw a promotional thing with them together that said that this was apparently one of the biggest ships in the fandom and I didn’t get the memo, cuz I had no idea these two were a thing in fanon or canon at all. At literally no point have I ever seen anything even resembling intimacy or even genuine affection between the two. They work well together, and they’re good teammates, but as a romantic pairing they came completely out of left field. If you ship them, well good for you, but I don’t really see why. Well at least it’s not abusive or toxic and it doesn’t involve Mineta so you do you.

MOMOJIRO

I won’t lie, as a gay man, lesbian ships tend to go right past my radar. The only times I’ve ever gotten really invested in shipping lesbian characters was when there was heavy canon backing to support the ships. But without canon support, I don’t really go looking for it. And frankly, I don’t see it with this or any lesbian pairing in this series.  There’s no romantic spark as far as I can see. But I guess at least within fanon, I see this ship a lot and it’s fine. It works. Lesbians deserve representation too, so I get it. People look for themselves in media. I don’t judge on that front. I mean, a big part of my disinterest is that the girls are secondary characters. I think Hagakure gets two lines per arc. But for me personally, I’m just not really invested in the lesbian ships of this series. But of the lesbian pairings that are even a little bit viable, Momojiro i guess is at the top. MomoKendo is the only pairing I’ve come close to actually shipping, but it’s pretty clear who Kendo is going to end up with.

HATSUMIIDA

I like Hatsume. I think she’s a fun character. I wish they’d use her more because she actually has a personality. And it’s actually enjoyable to be around. But these two are basically just a couple because Iida has gone from Deku’s best friend to background student ever since the stain arc ended. Honestly, this ship is more of a comedic duo. the Comically Serious with the Comically Wacky. And it’s fine.

TSUKOYAMI

Bascially the same thing I said last time. They’re cute, they’re two smart cookies, and they work well together. They haven’t really done anything new together in a while, so it’s a pretty dormant ship right now.

ERASERMIC

The ship is fine, I just don’t particularly like it. It works, but it’s not really something I actively ship. Mostly I just don’t like Present Mic, I think he’s annoying and his tiny mustache is unattractive. I don’t really have a problem with this ship. I don’t particularly care for it either. It exists. I’m okay with its existence.

IZUCHAKO

Okay, I know I bashed this ship pretty hard in my discussion of Tododeku but that doens’t mean i hate it. It means I’m frustrated with it. It has the potential to be good, but it settles for bland mediocrity. There’s nothing here in this boy meets girl will they won’t they main boy must date main girl cishet ship that hasn’t been done to death by a thousand other shows. It’s boring. And yeah, most of that fault lies with Uraraka not being a real person. And before Izuchako shippers get all defensive, honestly answer me this: Name one of Uraraka’s hobbies. Tell me something about her. Give me any indication that she has any character trait other than sweet, nice, or friendly. Sure okay, she can get competitive, but she gets that way. As in, it’s not an inherent trait. It has to be turned on. And okay, she’s selfless enough to want an easier life for her parents. The problem with Uraraka is that she’s forced to remain this perfect porcelain figure. And a lot of my problems with this ship could be fixed by fixing my problems with Uraraka. Make her a real character. Give her a story arc. Give her interests and hobbies, superstitions, quirky behaviors. Anything. Just don’t treat her like a trophy to be handed to Deku when he saves the day. Believe me, I want this ship to be better. Because this is the flagship couple of the series. So they should be better written. But they aren’t and that’s upsetting.

BrOTPs

BAKUJIRO

Let me tell you, as a huge fan of this BrOTP, it was SO vindicating to see them working so well together during the drill against class 1-B. I genuinely believe that after Kirishima (and possibly now Kaminari) that Jiro probably has the best chance of being called Bakugo’s best friend, and I love that. These two feel like they’d just get along due to their punk/emo/goth vibe, and shared aloofness. I feel like Jiro is good enough at keeping her cool that she is one of the few characters who could just stonewall Bakugo’s angry yelling and just reply with a sarcastic quip about him throwing a tantrum without even looking up from her phone. They just seem like they’d get along once Bakugo starts to respect her more, and I look forward to that day.

NOTPs

My opinions on my NOTPS really haven’t changed, so I’m honestly just going to copy and past them. If you’ve read them before, then it’s unnecessary extra reading, and if you haven’t, then it can still look like a fresh opinion.

KACCHAKO

This ship straddles the line for me, as I do like this pairing, but only as a Friend!Ship. I like the idea of Bakugou sort of bringing Uraraka’s more competitive nature to the surface, and the two becoming sparring partners. It’s just the romantic angle I’m less keen on. The main contention I see for this pairing as a romantic couple is that Bakugou didn’t hold back against Uraraka during the Tournament Arc, but I personally prefer to look at it as a great parallel to the battle between Neji and Hinata Hyuga during the Chunin Exams in Naruto, an anime which was a major influence for Horikoshi. In both fights, a genius and prodigy who stood as an elite among the young recruits was set to fight the primary love interest who was significantly weaker than him. In both fights, both Neji and Bakugou completely refused to hold back and wiped the floor with their opponent. The main difference came in how the fights ended. When Neji moved in for the attack as Hinata was defeated, multiple supervising teachers had to restrain him from killing her while she was barely able to remain standing. Comparatively, the instant Bakugou noticed that Uraraka was collapsing in defeat, he stopped his attack. Heck, part of me even expected Bakugou to retrieve her tournament jacket and give it back to her, but I suppose that would have been a little out of character. My point with this story is that Bakugou had the mindset of a true feminist. He didn’t show mercy because she was at a lower skill level or because she was a girl. He fought her as if she was a legitimately threatening villain, and when the threat was neutralized, he no longer needed to keep fighting. I choose to read this as a recognition of her as a hero in training and even the building block upon which to build further respect between them. So, I can understand why people might ship this pairing, especially since Bakugou doesn’t really have anything even resembling shipping fodder with any other female character, as he doesn’t really tend to talk directly to the girls in his class. Still, for me, I think these two are much better off as friends who push each other to improve, but if this ship is your jam, I don’t see anything too problematic with it.

BAKUDEKU

This is probably the only ship I’d come close to calling myself an Anti for, but in truth, I don’t have a problem with people who ship these two, I just find it too problematic for me to really have any kind of favor for it. My problem with Bakudeku is that it’s mutually toxic. Midoriya shows very clear signs of abuse, whether it be verbal, physical, or mental, as he flinches at the sound of Bakugou’s voice, and immediately backtracks when talking to Kacchan in an attempt to stop him from getting angry enough to provoke an attack. However, Midoriya is just as bad for Bakugou, as it has been said numerous times that Bakugou’s pride is the direct result of endless praise and affirmation as a child from teachers and peers. Midoriya is a contributor to this problem, as even now, he continues to remark on how amazing Bakugou is, thus feeding his pride and inflating his ego. While it is possible for these two to grow past their rivalry and even enter something of a friendship, I don’t like the idea of such a toxic, abusive, and cruel dynamic taking any sort of romantic shape, as it would be damaging to both boys. Granted, some people enjoy darker pairings and others enjoy it for the idea of the redemption and reconciliation, but this pairing simply is not for me. If you do like this pairing, good for you. I am by no means trying to sway people’s opinions to resemble mine. I am by no means saying you can’t like this ship or that you shouldn’t, I’m just explaining why I do not.

[docholligay]

paksenarrion-reader replied to your post “Don’t rb but”

I think that, in the end, is what caused me to get into Overfic so fully and with such abandon -- that the characters are so open to any interpretation we overlay on them, that we can do what we want and very little of it will be wrong. Widow is just a very vivid example of what I do with them all.

I’ve read this from a few people and I agree--it’s such a strength of the universe where there’s just enough to hook you, and then you can create it all. 

Pak wrote an essay and I responded with an essay so it’s behind a cut ahaha

paksenarrion-reader

replied to your post

“Don’t rb but”

resident "I'm Always A Slut For Sniping" main here, I have many faves for many different reasons and I am about to talk about some of them but divided in two main groups for the reason why I got so attached to them, why I ended up so invested in them. 

 first group started out as: Blizz tells me who they are. I play them a little -- get a feel for them, listen to their voice, learn how to move them. I sit up over my fic notebooks, legs crossed, hands laced, I look Blizz in the face, and politely say, "No."  this half involves Widowmaker obviously, since my approach to her is literally *throws canon over shoulder* "I'm going to let you make sense", but most notably also Symmetra.  maybe it's because I'm a writer myself, but these two (and many others I care less about) even as the sketch! are wasted potential! bad writing! they could be so much better! and by fuck I am going to let them no matter what canon says!

Oh my god, Yes, Blizz’ approach to Windowmaker’s backstory is one entire “ahahahaha NO.” for me. Cannot. Sexy brainwashed is not a thing I can handle, and it removes all of the interest and complexity that I think she could have. i’d rather have her be a person with motivations that suck, or are hypocritical, or that she herself sometimes doesn’t understand, and REFUSES to understand. 

I think that many/most characters aren’t really done a ton of favors by the canon by virtue of its sketchiness and also some HMM INTERESTING choices. I never got into Symm, but I know so many people that have, and something about her speaks to them, so I don’t doubt that I’m just missing some peice that allows a person to fundamentally connect with a character. Which I think is another strength of Overwatch: There are so many characters that represent so many facets of humanity that there’s a lot of room to see yourself. 

paksenarrion-reader

replied to your post

“Don’t rb but”

what got me to the point of caring about them enough to pluck them out of canon's hands is a mixture of the sketch space they occupy, of the feel they give through small and delicious details like what they speak, how they speak, how they move, of their gameplay since I enjoy characters with mid-to-high skill floor and high skill ceiling (see: I'm always a slut for sniping), and of the prism of my thoughts and experiences that I view them through

It’s always so interesting to me when a character’s gameplay inspires love for the character themselves, because, not being a gamer, I really can’t relate. It’s something I hadn’t considered when posing this question because it’s so far out of my wheelhouse, but of course a character you enjoy playing is likely going to find ways to be appealing to you otherwise. 

paksenarrion-reader

replied to your post

“Don’t rb but”

the second half are characters that other fans got me invested in. I didn't connect to some characters At All, in the beginning, but as I exist in fandom spaces I see people who did talk about the hows and whys of how they did, and I set my prism down to borrow someone else's lens, so to speak.  that can of course go two ways, it can be either "that is a terrible take and I'm going to do better" like what dragged me to caring about Reaper or to loving to hate Moira. Or it can be "that's amazing, I'll take fifteen, three of them gift-wrapped" like when trans players/fans talked about trans Hana, or you talked about Jewish Mercy, or fans of colour talked about dweeby, loving, soft Fareeha

I think this is where fandom can be such an interesting and fun thing--my great goal in life is of course to make everyone realize Tracer is compelling and not a naive idiot, and I TRY VERY HARD TO ACHIEVE THAT--but sometimes what makes me take a second look at a character is reading other people’s ideas and thoughts, seeing what they could be if you decided to turn your head just slightly to the left. It’s often interesting to me even if I can’t “get there” myself. 

paksenarrion-reader

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“Don’t rb but”

Widow in particular ended up as my main girl for a wide mixture of small reasons -- I still remember, when I played her for the first time in a few consecutive matches almost two years ago, that her calmly vicious manner and how she very quietly singsongs "come oooooout~" at her targets and how she makes EVERYTHING personal, left me sitting there a little distraught and thinking "somebody hold her hand"  she has a very strong feel, even as the roughly-drawn sketch of a character canon left her as, a feel that she despises everything and everyone and she will make everyone suffer and it will never be enough to make her feel better.   

I also, it will come as no surprise to you, enjoy thinking about Widowmaker as a person who does bad things and makes bad choices and can be petty and mean and she’s not even sure she wants to be, but here she is, DOING THAT. Inertia is a hell of a thing. And the more you make the same choice, the easier it is to keep making that choice. 

that feel was enough for me to latch onto and throw "brainwashed and crazy" over my shoulder and replace it with "traumatized and too proud to admit she needs help and too used to despair to be able to afford any sort of hope anymore" and start building.  I made her into a horrible person by virtue of horrible circumstances and choices to be made between bad and worse, into someone who lies and is steadfast and remorseless and honourable and tool and taskmaster, and I enjoy letting myself explore who she could have been before and what must have happened to have her back away into the safety of becoming this, and I enjoy writing scenes where I let her heal and it doesn't mean erasing anything of what I had put her through

You’re much kinder to Amelie’s general nature than I am--I think she probably had some bad things happen to her, but I also think a lot of her choices were her own fault--but yes, it’s really important to me that she’s choosing Talon, that this is the way she sees herself as interacting with the world and she’s not really compelled toward change. I see her as not unlike Ana in this sense. She makes shitty choices and sometimes is like “wow that was shitty” but either can’t or won’t or likely both do anything to change that. But what I think is interesting about Widow, in what’s I’ve read, is no two people seem to read her the same way, and I think that’s what interests me most about her. 

paksenarrion-reader

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“Don’t rb but”

I made the character of Widowmaker into something that appeals to me personally, instead of leaving the empty husk of a character that Blizz handed us, in my hands she's wrong and complicated and INTERESTING, and some of her is myself exorcising my demons through creative work and some of her is myself exercising empathy and imagination

I think this is what so many of us who get into Overwatch really do and feel with our faves--Mercy (and Yael) is the written experience of hours of Jewish handwringing every time I think about something for too long, or when I reflect on the reasons we’re still here despite the fact that we should have been wiped out several times over. Tracer is my experience of being an impulsive and quick little ADHD shit, and what would it feel like to know that the way I was and my brain worked was pretty roundly considered to be a part of my personality and loved versus constantly being seen as a problem to be solved? Pharah is the experience of seeing something that’s been tinted, and going, “no, they can’t have that. i’m going to make it into what it always should have been.” And so on. I know a lot of us who write, write about things and ideas and experiences that we need to give voice to but can’t when it’s US, and I think that’s pretty clear in a lot of OW stuff. 

[feadae]

So I got a Secret Encounter(TM) at my last D&D session

And as I record my D&D sessions and take notes obsessively, I had everything I needed to write my Secret Encounter in prose form with the dialogue the DM & I actually said, as well as his descriptions, with Bonus My Character’s Inner Monologue. And lowkey I’m kinda proud of it? I’ve been meaning to get back into writing for a long time now, and this bit reads kind of flat and technical to me, but I’m getting back into it, and I had fun!

Context and the actual writing under the cut

Context: My character is a Tiefling Bard named Melaena Eukleides, who grew up in a small town full of humans and halflings. She has a 3-year-old son named Remembrance, born out of wedlock with a Drow called Una Mentira who wooed her, took her to bed, and left, and when Remy was born her parents agreed to take care of him once he was weaned but forbade her from seeing him again. She discovered several months later (during our campaign) that Una Mentira isn’t Una Mentira; he’s a mob boss in Waterdeep (Jarlaxle Baenre, for anyone who’s played Waterdeep: Dragon Heist). After we finished WDH, we moved into homebrew territory where we are now, and he’s kidnapped their kid, so the party is on a rescue mission. We passed through Mel’s hometown on the way to find a ship to follow Jarlaxle, so Mel decided to drop by her parents’ house and ask if they knew anything about where he had gone or at least why he had taken their kid.  When I told the DM that Mel was going to do that, he asked the rest of the party to leave the room, and my heart rate skyrocketed. Without further ado, this is what ensued.

-

Mel watches her allies’ retreating backs, then takes a deep breath and runs to the house where she grew up. She runs inside and...the house is abandoned. There’s no one there; in fact, most of the furniture is gone.

“Mother? Father?” No answer. Mel goes to her parents’ room and looks around. Everything’s gone. It doesn’t look like there was a struggle, nor does it seem so in the front room. She finds a note on the ground in the front room. It’s addressed to Mel.

Melaena-- He gave us all we ever needed in life--gold... We had to give him to him. I know that you may never forgive us for what we’ve done, and we can’t blame you for that. But when we came to this land, we wanted something better for ourselves, something better for you. Don’t try to find us. You’re no longer our daughter.

It’s signed by both of Mel’s parents.

Mel stands in shock, staring at the note shaking like a leaf in her trembling hand and willing herself not to cry. Her parents essentially disowned her when Remy was born; this isn’t a huge change. But it is. It didn’t even cross her mind that they would leave voluntarily and leave behind only a note saying she’s not their daughter anymore. She’s had many an intrusive thought, worrying that she’d find them dead in the front room, killed by Una--Jarlaxle--in order to kidnap Remembrance. Or that they’d be there alive, saying they did everything they could to defend their grandson, but Una was too powerful. It even occurred to Mel that they might have given Remembrance up willingly, but she dismissed that thought almost immediately. Finding out that they gave him up for gold and didn’t even have the decency to stick around and explain themselves in person is just...too much.

Mel is jolted out of her stupor by a knock at the door. She folds the note up, jamming it in her pocket, and draws her rapier as she opens the door. It opens on a human man with curly red hair poking out from under a wide-brimmed hat.

“Uh, excuse me, um...Do you own this house?”

Mel peers at him, racking her brains as she sheathes her rapier, but doesn’t recognize him. She hesitates.

“I--I live here. What happened?”

“Oh, well, I was just interested why you walked in; it’s been for sale for some time. The original owners, they recently left. If I remember correctly, they were heading...north, I guess?”

Mel processes this and decides to deal with it later, though she knows she doesn’t want to try too hard to find the people who abandoned her and her son. Still, out of habitual politeness, she says, “Thank you.”

The man looks around Mel at the empty house she stands in. “Mind if I come in?”

There’s a second where Mel wants to tell him, No, get away from my house and leave me alone, but there’s really no reason to; everything she remembers is gone, as is everything she loves. Is it really hers? She spreads her arms wide as if to say, Fuck it, come on in. The man says, “Thank you,” and makes his way in.

Mel stands at the threshold, trying to decide whether to rip the thorn out and leave now or stick around and investigate more--maybe ask this man if he saw Una and his men leaving with Remembrance--but before she can make a decision, the door closes on its own. Instinctually, Mel whips around to face the man, drawing both her blades as she does so, half-expecting the familiar Drow visage of Una Mentira to stand where he stood. But it’s not Una. It’s Gilgamesh, the Arch-Fey who posed as Xoblob the Waterdevian shopkeep and killed Asha for fun in exchange for the eyestalk of his taxidermized Beholder. That seems like lifetimes ago now, rather than months. What is he doing in Sintas? What is he doing in Mel’s childhood home?

He turns to Mel and says, “I can’t lie; I’ve been watching you in your travels for some time, and...you don’t need those.” He nods at Mel’s weapons, both still drawn and ready. “I don’t mean any harm.” Mel keeps her eyes trained on him and slowly, silently straightens from the defensive stance she’d taken, putting her swords back in their sheaths. He seems to take the silence as an indication to keep speaking. “So, this is your house,” he says, giving the front room a polite yet cursory glance. Mel nods. It feels strange enough that she’s here without anything that made it home when she was a girl, and stranger still that she’s here talking to an Arch-Fey, of all things. It doesn’t feel right.

“Looks spacious. Fun,” Gilgamesh continues, voice light. This time, Mel manages a small “Mm-hm.” Images flash in her mind of the countless hours she spent as a girl reading, writing, playing make-believe with herself, practicing violin, in this house which now stands empty and lifeless, looking as barren and pathetic as she feels. As if reading her mind, Gilgamesh comments, “A little bit--empty.”

Mel’s heart is heavy as she replies, barely managing a whisper, “Seems so.”

The Arch-Fey peers at her, not unkindly. “I don’t mean to poke fun at you or jest,” he says, sounding almost sad. “That’s not my plan here.”

“What is it?” Mel croaks, only half-caring about the answer.

Gilgamesh looks even more closely at her, not moving from where he stands. “I see pain in your eyes. This is loss--loss that...” He trails off into thought, and as Mel looks at him, there’s a moment where the high, otherworldly status he naturally exudes seems to diminish into something closer to a mortal one. He continues, “I know that. It’s not easy. And it doesn’t get easier.” Mel nods. She’s not a stranger to loss, however new it feels now and however much she wishes she were; she knows this already. But Gilgamesh isn’t done speaking.

“But I can make it easier.” Gilgamesh holds out his hand, and standing on his palm is a small, humanoid sprite which comes to life and looks at Mel with understanding in its eyes. Gilgamesh says, “Be mine, and I can make this pain go away. I see the pain you feel. I offer you something that...unfortunately, I hate to say, your songs and tricks cannot help you with.”

Mel had walked a bit closer despite herself to get a better look at the little sprite, but at the words “Be mine,” she reflexively stumbles back and folds her arms to conceal the fact that her hands are shaking. Una had called her his. Sometimes his something--his darling, his little pirate, his songbird--but always his. The idea of belonging once again to a man about whom she knows nothing save that he is much more powerful than she turns Mel’s blood to ice. She wants desperately to feel something other than this painful loss that feels like the heaviest nothing inside her heart, but the more she thinks about the bargain, the less it sounds like a good idea.

“When you say ‘be yours...’” Mel begins suspiciously, letting it trail off. “What do you mean?”

Gilgamesh seems to know once again what she’s thinking, because he replies, “Not like that.” He searches for the right words, then starts again. “Be my...protégé. My eyes and ears through this...desolate land. You’d lose some of your abilities, of course. You’d...change a bit. But it might be for the best,” he finishes as he fixes on Mel’s eyes a gaze that carries a note of something darker than the consolation he’s offered thus far. The sprite flutters out of Gilgamesh’s hand and zips closer to Mel, hovering in front of her face like a hummingbird. It looks at her with those eyes of understanding, and a small smile comes across its face, a smile that seems to say, Come with me and everything will be all right. As Mel looks back into this small creature’s face, unsure whether she wants to change who she is and work for this strange man--this entity--Gilgamesh’s voice cuts through her contemplation.

“Your choice.” After a moment, he adds with a tremor in his voice, “And I’m so tired of being alone.” Mel shifts her eyes from the sprite to its master. He still stands in that almost mortal stature, and she sees the weight of hundreds, probably thousands, of years of loneliness in his face and on his shoulders. A small voice in the back of her head tells her, He said it that way on purpose; he’s manipulating you, but still. Her instinct is to go to him, to assure him he won’t be alone--and had he made this offer at any time but this, she might have done it. But her parents’ note, telling her that they sold her son to Una Mentira and that after all their years of loving her and all her years of loving them she is no longer their daughter, seems to be burning a hole in her pocket much like the hole it’s burnt in her heart. And all she can think of is herself, and how she needs to protect herself from the trap of trusting anyone, because what has it gotten her? Her first heartbreak, her first (and now second) betrayal, countless sticks and stones and curses hurled at her from the day she learned to walk, a son born out of wedlock to a world that has already given him more danger and fear in his three short years than most people see in a lifetime, rejection from the only two people she’d thought she could trust, and expulsion from the only place she has ever felt safe. Not to mention the scores of times it’s almost gotten her killed. She should have learnt this lesson four years ago when Una Mentira vanished with only one trace, but ultimately it doesn’t matter. She’s learnt it now.

After what feels like aeons, Mel gathers the courage to speak, though not to look directly at Gilgamesh. Her eyes dart away from his face as she says, “I’m sorry. But...I’ve belonged to someone before.” She steels herself and looks directly into his eyes again. “And I’d rather deal with the pain.”

The Arch-Fey’s eyes harden and his expression goes stony. The sprite, still hovering in front of Mel, glares at her then flies back into Gilgamesh’s palm. He closes his hand into a fist, and the resulting crunch makes Mel wince. He opens his hand again, and there’s nothing there.

“I would say you made the wrong decision, but...” His mouth tightens into a thin line as he shakes his head and shrugs almost imperceptibly. “It’s your decision.” He snaps his fingers and disappears with a soft, swift whoosh.

He’s not gone for three seconds before Mel hears his voice in her head. “I was trying to hide this from you.”

Mel blinks, and when she opens her eyes, the house--her childhood home--is gone. She’s standing in a torn-down, demolished pile of rubble on an abandoned lot. No more house is there. She blinks harder, faster, and rifles through her pocket, pulling out the note. It’s as solid in her hand as it was before; it wasn’t an illusion. Everything else...not so. As Mel looks around, there are no thoughts in her head; only the heaviest emptiness she’s ever felt. In her head and in her heart, there is nothing but pressing pain and searing loss. Her legs go weak, and when they fail and she falls to her knees, she makes no attempt to stay standing. The tears come hot and fast before she can think to stop them, and she couldn’t stop them even if she wanted to.

And for the first time, the thing she wished all her childhood is true: no one in Sintas pays attention to her. She is invisible, kneeling in a pile of rubble, sobbing among the fractured remains of all she’s known.