#it deserves a second chance with better audio i think

[fettiowi]

Reposting this lil animatic i did a while back with spinel using random audio by sarah stiles, except now with fixed audio and some tiny extras sdkhjf

[lauraneedstochill]

if I see one more post about Aegon “bullying Aemond his entire life”, I will go fucking ballistic, I swear to g—

scratch that, I will actually go ballistic right now. this is the “Aegon doesn’t deserve such a shitty treatment” club and I’m the self-proclaimed CEO. we are about to do some analyzing and reading so BUCKLE UP.

gonna make one thing clear first — Aemond was bullied when he was a child. no one denies that, no excuses can be made for that. I’d only like to note that there wasn’t only one bully. here’s a quick reminder:

now that we successfully counted to three, let’s look over Aegon’s other horrible crimes relationship with Aemond throughout the years.

📍 the night Aemond lost his eye (S1EP7), Rhaenyra suggests he should be “sharply questioned” (she means tortured) so they can learn who told him that her sons were bastards. Viserys, in his perpetual denial, angrily asks Aemond “who spoke these lies” to which he replies that it was Aegon. it is clear that Aemond does that to deflect suspicion from their mother but his words come as a surprise to Aegon.

he’s in a tough spot — Viserys demands the answers “as their king”, not their father (to signify his authority and pressure them into telling the truth). and Alicent screamed in Aegon’s face and slapped him just a minute ago, so he may be less eager to defend her. he can easily lie and say that he overheard some maids gossiping or that he can’t remember where the rumor came from. instead, it takes Aegon about 5 seconds to back Aemond up.

📍 we didn’t get many scenes with young Aegon and Aemond in general, but here’s a short bit people keep overlooking: when Harwin and Criston start fighting, Aemond and Aegon instantly gravitate toward each other. and moreover, Aegon puts a hand over Aemond’s back (which to me is either a protective or a comforting gesture). what a horrible brother, truly.

📍 next we see them all grown up before dinner in S1EP8. I think it’s safe to assume that if Aegon has been bullying Aemond all these years, Aemond wouldn’t want to spend a second in his company. he’s seated between Helaena and Otto, both of whom are dear to him, so Aemond can stay at the table and chat with them. and YET, not only does Aemond voluntarily talks to Aegon, but their conversation seems friendly (you can barely hear it in the show so here’s the enhanced audio). Aemond makes a joke about Aegon’s drinking habits — Aegon quips back — and then, what a shocker! Aemond starts venting his frustrations to Aegon (“Even when the noose is so tight, they expect us to break bread”). nothing would’ve stopped him from venting to Otto but Aemond stays with Aegon. he wouldn’t have done that if there hadn’t been some level of trust between them. he wouldn’t have done that if he hated Aegon’s guts.

📍 at dinner, when Aegon pisses Jace off and the brunet springs to his feet, Aemond stands up too, which forces Jace to act as if nothing happened and come up with a toast. Aegon watches him with a shit-eating grin on his face. it’s the face that screams “I know you won’t dare to act up in front of my brother and my brother has my back”.

when Aemond makes a toast and calls Rhaenyra’s sons “strong”, Aegon raises a cup to that. he can sit this one out — Aemond has his personal vendetta against the boys, and it would be safer for Aegon not to meddle. but what does he do instead? when Luke gets up from the table (clearly intending to go to Aemond), Aegon instantly stands up, comes up to Luke and not just stops him but slams his face into the table right in front of Rhaenyra without thinking twice. and it doesn’t look like Aegon is just messing with him — no, it looks like he wanted to do that for a while. like Aegon finally got his chance to stand up for his brother too. AND he also stops Baela from joining the fight.

📍 S1EP9 is when we get a glimpse of Aemond’s ambitions: he deems himself better than Aegon, he thinks he deserves to be king. but once he finds Aegon and they get into a fight, it turns out that Aegon knows that Aemond is a better choice. he doesn’t want to fight him, he begs Aemond to let him go. and Aemond can do that — Criston has his back to them, so Aemond could’ve pretended that Aegon managed to break free. and even once they caught Aegon, I have no doubt that Aemond could’ve helped him escape. but it seems that, despite his displeasure, Aemond values his family the most. he can’t betray his mother’s trust, and he knows Aegon is the first in line to the throne. Aemond envies him, yes, he may even hate him because of that. but he values his family the most.

📍 as @florisbaratheons noted, during the coronation scene, when Aegon glances at his family, Aemond looks right at him and gives that tiny nod that says “I may hate this and think I am better for the job as king. But I’ve got your back.” I like that Aemond is the one who keeps eye contact in that scene. He could’ve turned away to signal his dissatisfaction with the situation, there wouldn’t have been any consequences for that. But he didn’t.

📍 what I find interesting about S1EP10 is the beginning of Aemond’s dialogue with Luke. that’s the boy Aemond wished to get back at for years and yet, he starts by saying “Did you think that you could just fly about the realm trying to steal my brother’s throne at no cost?”. Aemond could’ve skipped that part — imagine him saying smth along the lines of “Wait, Lord Strong! Don’t you think you and I have other matters to discuss?” (to which Luke answers that he doesn’t want to fight and the conversation goes on). instead, Aemond makes a point to remind Luke: my brother is the king, and I came here on his behalf. you can argue that Aemond doesn’t do it for Aegon specifically but for his family in general. but Aegon is a part of the family, and S1 Aemond has his priorities straight.

📍 as much as I hate comparing the show and the book (these are two different things and should be viewed as such), I’d like to remind you that Aegon was the only one who stood by Aemond’s side after Luke’s death. I wonder why we didn’t get that scene… I guess it’s because it would be kinda hard to call Aegon “the main bully” after he literally throws Aemond a feast. but we do get to see Aegon supporting his brother: in S2EP1 he welcomes Aemond at the small council meeting despite his mother’s protests (“Aemond is my closest blood and my best sword”). and he trusts Aemond wholeheartedly, that much is obvious.

📍 let’s get to the most controversial part — the brothel scene in S2EP3: some people believe Aegon is being a bully at that moment. those people seem to forget one little detail:

it’s been only a few days after the death of Aegon’s son whose murder was a direct result of Aemond’s ruthless actions. does Aemond ever address it? does he express his condolences? does he mayhaps help to catch the killers, being the skilled fighter that he is? the answer is NO.

I do think Aegon’s joke was cruel (I wrote a whole post about it) but that’s all it ever was — a JOKE. the humiliation comes not from the things he says but from the fact that Aemond is found in a vulnerable position and surrounded by a group of strangers while his brother laughs at him. TGC explained it best:

I also love @notbloodraven’s take on that scene:

Aegon lashing out so cruelly at Aemond seems to be an effort in making Aemond feel as badly as he does and blaming him for Jaehaerys without actually saying the words.

would this be the right way to act? no. but there’s no right way to grieve and to cope with the loss — and HIS SON WAS BEHEADED so maybe take 1% of the sympathy you show your favorite character(s) and cut Aegon some slack.

+ other things worth talking about:

📍 @bietrofastimoff23 analyzed S2EP3 beautifully and I can’t help but mention the scene that happens before Aegon goes to the brothel. it’s the moment when Larys suggests that Alicent and Aemond are plotting against Aegon. he isn’t surprised by the idea that his mother can do that — but the second his brother is mentioned, Aegon’s face falls and he shakes his head no. because there is no way Aemond would ever do that to him. and instead of asking for any proof, he asks Larys “who spreads these lies?” and then commands him to “tend to them.” Aegon can ask him to spy on Aemond, to find any dirt on him, find any weaknesses he can use — he does not.

📍 it turns out to be true — Aemond was plotting behind his brother’s back. which is treason btw (I don’t think Criston intended to keep things from Aegon — he probably believed that Aemond would let Aegon in on their plan). and Aegon does have the power to remind Aemond of his place — he can throw him off the council with a snap of his fingers, he can take offense at Aemond’s attempt to publicly humiliate him (their conversation in High Valyrian — Ewan himself calls it a “public execution”). but that’s not what happens: as TGC phrased it, Aemond’s betrayal “breaks a bit of Aegon’s heart off”. an actual bully would’ve immediately pushed back, but Aegon silently sits down and doesn’t argue, he’s so defeated he can’t utter a word. he has the means to be a bully but he doesn’t contemplate it for a second.

📍 I don’t want to talk about S2EP6 because it makes me sick but I will reiterate one thing: never ONCE Aegon made fun of Aemond’s disability or tried to cause him any physical harm. just want to point that out.

there is no moral to this story, I guess. if you managed to read till the very end, thank you. if you still hate Aegon, that’s your opinion and you are allowed to have one — but please, for the love of god, just stop making shit up. no, Aemond was NOT bullied as an adult, absolutely nothing suggests that he was. Aegon was naive to blindly trust him and it backfired on him, that’s the actual story. and if you are so eager to hold Aegon accountable for his mistakes, maybe it’s time for Aemond to take responsibility for his actions too.

+ some of my favorite critical posts about Aegon and Aemond: x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x.

P.S. I will not argue with anyone so please don’t waste your time — I consider all my arguments solid and that’s enough for me. if you are thinking of sending me anon hate, pls go take a walk instead, it will do you more good. 🌿

[xjaylyn]

PART 6 - Bad Boys: Second Chances

Pairing: Armando x Black! OC (Rya)

Warnings: blood, graphic, guns, death, mature, language (use of the n word), and some other stuff I probably forgot about sorry

Summary: It's been two years since Captain Conrad was framed. Another mission brings the team back together and new relationships are formed. It's said everyone deserves second chances and room to grow. So maybe this is that second chance

A/N: I was beating my brain trying to write this part in order to drop tonight as promised. I don’t know why it was so hard to come up with something for these past two parts, but whew. I’m not sure how much I like these past two parts, but I don’t know. We’ll see where it goes from here. Enjoyyyy🥰

(^ photo creds - @yeahnohoneybye )

…7:00 pm…

Taking one last breath and letting go of the bathroom sink, Rya steps back and looks at herself one last time before stepping out.

The beautiful silk champagne dress graced every curve of her body. Her hair was pressed and perfectly curled at the ends, and her makeup was light but effective. Despite how good she looked, she couldn’t help but feel the weight of last night affecting her body. Every time she closed her eyes, she was met with her father staring back at her.

Shaking her head, she grabs the small clutch on the sink and strides out of the locker room into the common room to meet everyone else waiting on her.

"Wow, you clean up nice, Rya," Mike says, fixing his cufflinks on his suit.

"Thanks," she mutters, watching Kelly walk over behind her to clamp the small, discreet necklace around her neck.

"This has audio and video. We’ll be able to see and hear everything. Just be careful, alright?"

Rya nods, feeling how light and delicate it is. To anyone else, it looks like a plain diamond necklace, which is good since they didn’t need the dealers to think otherwise.

Rita steps forward, clearing her throat, making everyone look her way. "Alright, everyone. This is it. Rya, you know what you need to do. The rest of you, be ready for anything. Let’s make this count."

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

"Alright, everyone in position?" Rita says into everyone’s earpiece. A string of "yes" can be heard in response.

Nodding her head, Rya stands behind two people in line. Slightly looking up, she notices Dorn’s drone making its way towards her before hiding in place.

"Alright, we got eyes on you, Rya. You are good to go."

Looking ahead, she steps forward as the two people in front of her enter, coming face to face with the bouncer.

"Name," he asks, looking down at his list.

"Kim Smith," she says smoothly, looking up at the bouncer with a small smile on her face. The bouncer looks her up and down before checking a name off a list.

"Enjoy your dinner, Ms. Smith."

Nodding her head, she walks into the elegant place. Smooth jazz playing in the background and people in fancy attire holding glasses of champagne surround her on every corner. A waiter comes to her side, offering a glass, which she kindly takes.

Looking around, she spots a dimly lit booth in the far back corner. She can see a waiter stepping away from the table, granting a better look at the faces occupying the space. She instantly recognizes them as Sergio’s business partners whom she has worked closely with before.

Taking a quick sip of her champagne, she makes her way towards the booth. Staring at the man facing her way, he looks up before smiling at her.

"Agent 007," he cheers, standing up to greet her, causing the other man to look behind him.

"Mr. Williams and Mr. Velez, nice to see you both," she greets, taking a seat in the booth.

"Yes, lovely to see you. Hermosa como siempre, mi amor (beautiful as always, my love)," Velez says, putting his cigarette to his mouth and looking Rya up and down.

Javi Velez, despite his young age of 30, is a notorious kingpin in Mexico and one of the biggest drug dealers in the game. His supply of drugs has been keeping Sergio’s operation going for years, especially after Sergio suffered a major loss. It could be said that Sergio is in debt to him.

"What are you doing in Miami, agent? Heard some shit went down at the corp; shouldn’t you be there?" Williams says, leaning back in the booth.

Joe Williams is a very important connection to Sergio’s operation, especially being his financial advisor. Every deal and check went through Joe. His mind was always on the money and knew how to handle it very well.

"Sergio sent me here to handle some business. Said we have some loose strings that we need to tighten," she says, raising a brow at the men.

The two look at each other before looking at the young woman. Chuckling a bit, Velez burns his cigarette. "Nah, nothing over here, preciosa. We'll let you know if we hear anything."

"You sure about that? Word has gotten around that you made some new connections that you haven’t informed Sergio about," she says, picking up her glass and eyeing the man.

All of a sudden, the sound of a phone goes off. Silence falls between the three as Joe opens his phone to read the message. As Javi and Rya stare at each other, Joe clears his throat, setting his phone back down.

"Well, it seems to me, 007… you’re the loose string."

'Fuck.'

All of a sudden, the background music cuts off, and all the people in the building stop their talking and look back at the booth, pointing their guns at Rya.

"Whoa, what the fuck?" she can hear Dorn say in her earpiece.

Rya sets her glass on the table and looks up at the vent above them. There was Armando hidden with a rifle, aiming down at them, ready to fight.

The sounds of bullets ring through the room, and she quickly flips the table to shield herself. Grabbing her own gun from under her dress, she quickly points it at Joe, who aims his gun at her and shoots his wrist, causing the gun to fall.

From above, Armando jumps down and shoots Javi to immobilize him. Pushing the table down, Armando steadily shoots at all the people in the foyer along with Dorn’s drone.

In the corner, Rya notices Mike and Marcus making their way into the shootout. Feeling someone coming up behind her, Rya quickly turns around, blocking the swing to grab their arm and turn it back on them until she hears a snapping noise. Drawing her gun, she goes for straight headshots on each person running towards her, hitting each one. Running out of bullets, she drops her gun, takes the clip out, and blocks a punch before sending a hook and taking the clip, stabbing it up their side multiple times.

"Rya, watch your six!" she hears Dorn.

Spinning around, she swings, knocking the person down before reaching to a table to grab the fork lying on a plate. Throwing it with a lot of force, she lands it in the middle of the person’s forehead.

Feeling someone grab behind her, she quickly reaches out to fight them until she hears a gunshot and their body drops. Looking up, she sees Armando aiming her way.

"That was your eighth," he says before lowering his gun.

Rolling her eyes, she looks around, noticing all the bodies on the floor. Mike and Marcus standing in the middle, ready for more.

"Who else?! I may be old, but I still got it, come on!" Marcus taunts, looking around. Hearing a groan come from beside him, he looks down to see a man reaching up for him, glaring at him.

"Now that’s just pitiful," Mike says, shaking his head before shooting him.

"Guys, they’re getting away," Rita says in the earpieces.

Quickly reaching down for a gun, Rya turns around to where Joe and Javi were limping away before shooting at them.

Dropping her arm, she makes her way to the two groaning on the floor. Armando picks up Joe, sitting him up against the wall. Rya drops down in front of him.

"Just tell me where Sergio keeps his inventory, and we can all go home."

"I’m not telling you shit," he coughs, glaring at her.

"Okay."

Aiming the gun at his thigh, she shoots him again, causing him to scream.

"Fuck, f-fucking bitch!" he groans.

"You did it to yourself," she says, aiming the gun at his head.

He just laughs, pressing his head to the barrel. "You still can’t make me say shit."

"Alright, if he ain’t gonna speak, let’s ask this one," Mike says, grabbing Javi.

"No te voy a decir nada, negro," he grits.

"The fuck did he say?" Mike says, looking back at Armando.

"It don’t matter, I heard 'nigga,'" Marcus says, aiming his gun at him.

"How’s Diane? Heard she got student of the month at school. That’s cool, Haywood Middle School, right?" Rya asks, staring at Joe, causing his eyes to widen.

"You sick bi-"

"Didn’t Amy get a promotion? She’s a manager now at Kr-"

"The witch," Joe heaves out.

"The witch?"

"Yes, the fucking witch. I can’t say it out loud but what she does best," he rushes, glaring at her.

Aiming towards Javi, she fires another shot, hitting him in his calf, causing the man to curse her.

"Joe, don’t try and run ten on me just tell me the fucking location," she says, keeping her eyes on Joe.

Spitting out blood, he closes his eyes before relaxing against the wall. "Her fucking voodoo shop. It’s underneath there, you sick fucking bitch," he grits, giving up.

"You’ll live," she says, standing up and looking back at the crew.

"The shop is in Miami, everything we need should be there."

"Your hit," Armando says.

"How many times are y'all going to come for my appear—" Rya rolls her eyes, causing Armando to shake his head and point at her shoulder.

"No, I mean you got shot."

Stopping mid-sentence, Rya looks down to where he was pointing to see the open bullet wound. Blood oozing down her arm. It most likely went all the way through.

"I'm fine...we need to go and grab what we nee—" She says, looking back up at everyone.

"No, no, we're going to call it a night, and you're going to get that wrapped and bandaged. We can go in the morning," Mike says crossing his arms.

Opening her mouth to go against him, Marcus cuts her off. "Don't even try to say otherwise, especially to Mike's hardheaded ass. He already made the decision for you."

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

...AMMO HEADQUARTERS 2 HOURS LATER...

"Rya, you can stay at my house for the time being. All I ask is to clean up after yourself and don't leave any bloody bandages around, alright? I got a one-year-old that's starting to understand the concept of walking and grabbing random shit to put in her mouth," Mike says, walking towards the common room where Kelly was wrapping Rya's shoulder.

Nodding her head, she thanks Kelly as she finishes with the last bandage. Mike watches as she gets up and heads towards the locker rooms along with Kelly, leaving him and Armando by themselves.

Clearing his throat, he looks up towards his son sitting by the computers on his phone. Hesitating for a second, he decides to make his way up towards him and pulls up a chair next to him.

"I know it's been a little hectic these past couple of days...you good?" he asks with concern, studying his son's features.

"I'm not in prison..." Armando says, looking up at his father before looking back down at his phone.

Raising his brows, Mike sighs, leaning back in his chair. "Yeah, uh, Mando, I know we aren't completely there with the whole...father-son thing, and we don't ever have to be...we can simply be two men that respect each other...uh, but, uh, I do want you to know that if you need to talk about anyth—"

Getting up from his seat, Armando looks down at his father, furrowing his brows. "I don't have anything to talk about with you...we help each other out...that's it," he says, giving one last glance at the man in front of him before walking away.

Nodding his head, Mike watches as his son walks out. Standing up, he grabs his keys and makes his way out to the car to wait for Rya.

'We help each other...that's it.'

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

...MIKE'S HOUSE...

"I have spare pajamas if you need some, Rya. I'll be happy to lend you something other than police shirts and training shorts," Christine says with a small smile, standing at the guest room door.

"I'm okay with what I have, thank you, Christine."

Upon arriving at Mike's house, Rya was instantly greeted by his former counselor and now wife. With a wide smile and an even wider hug, Rya was a bit caught off guard by the greeting but appreciated it nonetheless.

Their home was beautiful and comfortable. With it being a four-bedroom space, she was given the option to choose her own space to stay.

"We have some pain pills and more wound dressing if you need to change it in the bathroom right here. Get some sleep this time," Mike says, stepping into the doorway with baby Amara in his arms, her head gently resting on his shoulder as he bounced her up and down.

"Yes, let us know if you need anything. Goodnight," Christine smiles before closing the door.

Laying down on the full-size bed, she groans, feeling the soreness of her shoulder now that her adrenaline is down. She didn’t know how long she layed there staring at the ceiling until she sat back up, sliding on her house shoes that Christine gave her.

'Yeah, I'm not getting any sleep tonight.'

Making her way downstairs, she pours herself a glass of water before sitting down at the island. Seeing a figure move in the corner of her eye, she quickly looks up and lifts the glass, prepared to fight.

"It's just me."

Dropping her arm, she watches as Armando steps out with his hands up before walking towards the cabinet to grab himself a glass and pour some water.

The two sat in silence as Armando took a seat next to Rya at the kitchen island.

"Back at the restaurant—" Armando starts, still staring ahead.

"The guy said 'the witch'... referring to my mother, right?" he asks, looking down.

Turning her body towards Armando, she glances down at the man, not answering right away. Since they've met, Armando had this hard demeanor, but tonight she can tell he was vulnerable. Though he's trying not to show it, she could see right through the facade... it's one she does often herself.

"Yes... that concerns you?"

Looking back up, he makes eye contact with Rya. "Nah... just connecting the dots," he says, standing up and walking towards the sink to rinse his glass.

Staring at her glass in hand, she looks back up at Armando making his way out of the kitchen.

"You really think she loved you... like a son?" she asks, watching as he stops in his steps before turning around. His brows were slightly furrowed, and his eyes wandered for a bit, trying to avoid eye contact.

"Even if she didn’t... she cared more than anyone else."

Staring at the man for a bit, she nods her head, considering his words. "You tired?"

Scrunching his face in confusion, he hesitates before answering. "Depends."

Standing up from her seat, she turns completely towards him and crosses her arms.

"Your mother’s voodoo shop... I can grab what we need, and you can find out who your mother really was."

Considering her words, Armando nods his head before turning around to head towards the garage.

"Dont slam my door getting in...I aint forget about earlier"

"you pissed me off"

Tag list: (lmk if you want to be added🫶🏽)

@blackgirlmagicforever @believeinthefireflies95 @wizewhispers @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @sarcasticbitchsblog @maybepersuasivetom @d4rno @honggihwa @literallegendicon @ninacutebee16 @hannie-squirrel00 @themainacc @stressedmess-21

[starwriterulia]

Tomb of the Goshenite Stargazer Dragon - Chapter 7

SUBJECT MATERIAL WARNINGS FOR THIS FANFICTION ARE INCLUDED IN THE MASTERLIST POST OF MY BLOG AND THE FIRST CHAPTER OF THIS FANFICTION.

Sun and moon divider by @saradika

Banners for scene cut and creator support by @cafekitsune

A/N: New cover and dividers to mark the second part of the story! I might stick with these dividers for the final third of the story, they're so pretty, but we'll see if they continue to fit. Those who read Chapter 6 know that the new divider was the end of chapter banner of that chapter! Another long chapter summary this time, sorry! I keep making summaries that are two or three paragraphs (it's four, this time @_@) long instead of just one paragraph long because I put so much detail into my writing, WHOOPS. This is a breather chapter. No drama, today! Gee, it's almost like I changed the cover image to reflect a change in atmosphere! *wink wonk* Tag list in the replies! If you'd like to be added or removed from the list, please let me know!

Chapter summary: Wonder Woman, Zatanna and Faith arrive at the Queen Mansion, and Cissie King-Jones answers the door, asking who Faith is and noting Faith's hair, apologetically. Faith's response confuses Cissie. The heroines ask to talk with Oliver and Dinah, if they're home, and Cissie says they are, indeed, home, and lead the guests to the drawing room, where Oliver and Dinah react to Faith, asking what happened and Dinah approaching Faith, asking for a hug, saying she didn't care about the smell, and receiving permission. Off-screen, Wonder Woman and Zatanna retell what happened at the Belfry. Oliver, Dinah and Cissie watched Faith's expression and panicked movements and noises, and knew she felt remorse. Oliver says to Faith that her body language confirmed that she wouldn't have acted on her desires and didn't want them at all, after the Batfamily's reaction. Faith began to mutter, shouting in alarm and apologising, Oliver kindly shushing and telling her she was OK. Faith reiterates that she was only looking for friends and honestly would not have approached the Batkids sexually or romantically, and that she's now too scared to think about them in those ways.

Cissie asks why Faith didn't drop the rabbit toy, and Faith replies that Santa and the Snow Elves would have fixed it, and that she couldn't leave for Thalassic Space, where she would be welcomed, although it was an option. She wanted to know if she could actually help, adding her trademark lore and apologising for that, to light laughter. Oliver says that Faith made the right choice, and the present members of the Arrow family accept Faith's apology. Oliver says they'll continue her training as part of them, and Dinah says they'll help Faith learn to socialise better. Faith thanks them, then Cissie acts on Dinah's request to get Faith to a bathub and really scrub her hair.

Dinah remarks that Wonder Woman and Zatanna mentioned the audio of the visit to the Dragon Tomb was broadcast to J'onn J'onzz at the Watchtower, and J'onn had offered to take Faith in. Dinah asks why Wonder Woman and Zatanna brought Faith to the Arrow family instead, Zatanna answering that Faith deserved a second chance from people similar to the Batfamily. The heroes ponder why J'onn is interested in Faith and Thalassic Space beyond learning why the asteroid belts that had appeared when Ra's brought Faith to their world had disappeared, and why the one near the sun had no magic while the other did. Oliver asks what was Faith's answer for that, and Zatanna says it was due to their galaxy lacking a magic O-type star, which Oliver agrees makes sense. Wonder Woman volunteers to speak with J'onn, and the heroes agree to meet in Boston near her home, as J'onn lives in Detroit, where Zatanna's home is, as they shouldn't bring J'onn to the Queen Mansion, where Faith is.

Zatanna brings lunch up to the girls, Oliver quietly waiting against the wall as the door was open, seeing Faith chatting as normal with Cissie and glad for that. She asks if Faith feels safe, now that the loophole has been taken care of, Faith saying "yes" in slightly less long-form way. Zatanna asks if there would be anything for Martians or Lanterns in Thalassic Space, and Faith says "yes", but any non-peaceful desires would be met by the heroes of Thalassic Space. Zatanna accepts the answers, saying she was just curious, and Faith is content with that, saying that even if it was for other reasons, she trusts Zatanna, and Zatanna is thankful. Zatanna walks by Oliver, who follows, whispering to him about his nosiness and Oliver saying that he had questions, too. They go to the door, Oliver letting Zatanna out, then Oliver returns upstairs to invite Faith to the Arrowcave for training after she's done eating, and Faith accepts, Oliver telling her to find him back in the drawing room. Faith's second ride in a fast car to the underground level of the mayor's office is alluded to have been exciting for her. Oliver helps her out, and walks her in, Faith in awe of the lair, and as they walk further in, Oliver asks what they taught her.

Fandoms: DC Comics, Batfamily, no Batcest, Arrow family, Thalassic Space (OC; takes inspiration The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Assassin’s Creed: Black Flag, Silent Hill 2, Silent Hill 3, and other sci-fi, fantasy and horror titles, as well as original concepts, such as the science and lore of the galaxy.)

[In order of appearance] Characters: Faith Lawson (TBA; self-insert), Diana Prince (Wonder Woman), Zatanna Zatara, Cissie King-Jones (Arrowette), Dinah Lance (Black Canary), Oliver Queen (Green Arrow).

Word Count: 5246 (A reasonable length, for once! Yay! LOL)

Content warning: None!

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8

Wonder Woman and Zatanna touched ground at the front door of Queen Mansion, which had lit a sparkle in Faith's eye. Colour and a smile had returned to her face during the exciting first-flight, which took the women about thirty minutes, sparing Faith their full speeds. Faith wasn't holding the disgusting rabbit plush, but the side pocket of her dufflebag was now filled. "Pretty neat place they've got, huh?" Said Zatanna, as Faith unfurled her legs onto the asphalt. Faith nodded. "Whose mansion do you like more: Wayne, or Queen?"

"Gee, they both look so cool, and they both have beautiful interiors and lots of history, in the comics. You're really gonna make me, a person who made a castle magic university, choose between two big, epic mansions?" Faith said. Wonder Woman and Zatanna snickered and laughed. Wonder Woman rang the doorbell. Approximately fifteen seconds later, the door opened, Cissie King-Jones peeking out behind.

"Oh! Hi, Wonder Woman and Zatanna!" Cissie said, opening the door wide. "Who's this?" Cissie sniffed, and looked Faith in the eyes. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude, I just couldn't help but notice you smell like bacon grease."

"It's fine, I deserved it." Faith said, frowning. "Batgirl dumped dishwater on me."

"Batgirl dumped━?" Cissie whipped her head to look at Wonder Woman and Zatanna, who nodded. "Wow, OK. Um, I'm sorry, are you looking for Ollie and Dinah?"

"Yes, are they home?" Wonder Woman asked.

"Yeah, in the drawing room." Cissie said, opening the door wide. "I'll walk you there."

"Thank you." Wonder Woman said, as she, Zatanna and Faith entered, Cissie closing the door and leading them onwards.

"We've got guests!" Cissie announced. Oliver strained his neck to look down the ways. The first half-second, ha gave a friendly smile to his colleagues, and the second-half, he had a concerned expression for the young woman whose ash blonde grown-out black hair that he could tell was beautiful and thick was slick with bacon grease and dirty water. Her hazel green eyes were dark, and not just from being inside for so long.

"What happened to her?" Oliver asked, as Dinah clicked her tongue and rose from the couch she was sharing with Oliver, and hovered her hands in front of Faith's body.

"Oh, I would hug you, dear, but I don't know if you'd like one. I don't care about the smell, really, I don't." Dinah said.

"A hug would be nice," Faith said, and Dinah immediately brought her into her arms. "If you don't care about the smell."

Cissie said, "She said Batgirl dumped dishwater on her."

"What?" Dinah said, parting herself from Faith to look at her face.

Zatanna said, "Let's sit down and talk."

Faith's face was pale again, and she stared at the floor as Wonder Woman and Zatanna told the events. Throughout, Faith muttered and released shuddered breaths. From this, Dinah, Oliver and Cissie knew that Faith felt real remorse. Oliver said, "So, you wouldn't have acted on your desires, and we can see from your body language that you don't want to act on them anymore. Is that right, Faith?"

Faith bobbed her head fervently. She muttered, "Des━" Then caught herself and said, "Aaa! Sorry!" And she snapped her neck up to look at the ceiling, shoulders cringed up and arms defensively in front of her chest.

"Sh, shhh, hey, it's OK." Oliver softly replied, meeting her gaze and holding it as Faith's eyes came down from the ceiling to his face, her arms resting on her legs.

At a normal volume, Faith said, "I wouldn't have forced myself upon them, and Damian was out of the question."

"Right. You said you're not a pedophile, and I think you were honest about that."

Faith panted. "Th-Tha..."

As soft and quiet as he could, Oliver said, "Sh."

And it was effective. Faith said, "I-I was only looking for friends."

"Yes, you said that, too." Dinah said, gently.

"Desires don't have to be acted upon, and I really, honestly wouldn't have approached them as a Batfamily member with sexual or romantic intentions. I'm too scared of them now to even seriously think about what I like about them, in those ways. Please, please just know that, for what it's worth, even if that's very little, or nothing."

"Thank you, Faith." Oliver said.

"Thank you for your honesty, Faith." Dinah added.

"What did you do with the bunny rabbit?" Cissie asked, sitting next to Dinah on the other couch, Oliver next to her.

Faith said, "I put it in the outside pouch of my bag. I asked Zatanna and Wonder Woman to do it, so I wouldn't drop it."

"I volunteered to put it in for her." Said Zatanna. Wonder Woman and Faith nodded.

"Why didn't you drop it, Faith?" Dinah asked, kindly.

"'Cause Santa wouldn't have." Faith's cheeks lifted, colour filling her face as she continued. "Santa and the Snow Elves take any toy they find and can carry, and they fix 'em. It's supposed to represent a stranger or loved one, like a new friend or family member, chosen or blood, taking time, energy and resources to mend what's been forgotten and hurt by the world. Even though Thalassic Space is a wonderful place, it has awful people because the Nero Spirits whisper about awful things to manipulatable people. People who embody Kaleido, who believe in God but look through the painted glass windows instead of examining the Bible and its merits and faults, in the past and present."

Dinah and Oliver hummed, the latter with pursed lips, Cissie bobbing her head around. Oliver said, "Interesting way to look at it, but it's also true."

"Oh yeah." Dinah said.

Faith said, "Not to say they have weak wills, they just believe that people who are not white, cisgender, heterosexual, human, able-bodied and able-minded should be punished in Inferno. Ooh, I forgot to tell the Batfamily those last two traits, though I know Batman and Tim read it, 'cause this is publicly known lore that anyone can read in the TSRPG app."

"Oh, OK."

"But that's why Nero Spirits are so powerful, and why Bartholomew and Krampus had control over two planets, and were so dangerous during the three Wars for the O-type star's Spirit. The people had to unite, although most already lived like that, but really unite so that the most powerful among them, and those who became powerful, could protect and heal the planets and people."

"You really are a storyteller, Faith." Said Oliver.

Faith smiled with her cheeks. "Thank you." Her cheeks formed a frown. "I deserved what they did to me. What they did was mean, but it could've gone worse. Like, they didn't hit me, and Damian wanted to cut a frown into my face, but was stopped by his dad." Dinah and Oliver hummed, nodding slightly.

"I could have told Wonder Woman and Zatanna, 'No, I want to end the story', but I didn't want to let go of something I'd just given myself. In The Double Eight of Thalassic Space, I guide Faina's thoughts and actions so she doesn't die when she's in dangerous places, like the Backstage of the Rondo Theatre. The narration and inner dialogue become purely narration as we temporarily merge. I enter Thalassic Space through Faina, creator and Soul Fragment return from the Undecided Corridors of Platonia to the Backstage of the Rondo Theatre, and we run on Stage when the other characters were praying for the sun to return from the Deep Sea City, where they thought Faina had died with Nero Dionysus, at the climax of battle."

"That's the biggest ego-boost I allowed myself, in the main story, and I've got ideas to appear in other stories to guide other protagonists and even antagonists with the same effect: to get people where they need to be, when they're displaced, Backstage, by Actors playing the Role of a villain. I'm otherwise supposed to be at Home, proper noun, and that's my apartment, but in Thalassic Space, that's White-Sun Harbour." Faith smiled, dreamily looking at the ceiling. "I have a room in the mansion that captain Arles owns, and I just get to write in a beautiful place, in a big house shared with friends," She looked down, among the people in the room. "And I get to go outside and have fun at a tavern where I don't need to drink to attend. There's a jungle on the island, and a few places you can slip through, over or under to acces the rest of the Realm of Tree Peoples, and the ocean of the harbour is just the caribbean!" Faith inhaled through her nose. "Wow, I really let myself go, if people let me." The others laughed quietly.

"We wouldn't change it for the world, Faith." Said Zatanna.

"Sorry, my point is, I didn't want to give up, even though I could have, because I don't want to be done, and I want to know if I could actually help."

Oliver nodded firmly. "You made the right choices, today, Faith."

"Thank you."

He looked to Dinah. "So! Are we thinking of 'yes'?" She nodded. Oliver looked to Cissie, who nodded. "Well, Faith, the Arrow family accepts your apology, and we will gladly take you under our roof to continue your training as one of us." Faith inhaled, her cheeks raising more.

Dinah said, "We can even help you socialise a little better so you can actually go outside and make friends." Faith gasped, smiling with her teeth parted. Dinah chuckled, smiling with her teeth. "Not to change you, but to help you." Faith nodded, excitedly. "You are a very good storyteller, but you need to filter your thoughts so you're less likely to give exposition or trauma dump, when you're trying to be punctual and include others in a converation."

"Oh my God, yes!" Faith said, breathily. She laughed, Dinah and Oliver chuckling with Wonder Woman and Zatanna, Cissie giggling shortly.

Oliver said, "You can leave at any time, if it's not working out and you want someone else to help you." Zatanna hummed and raised her hand, and Faith batted her lashes, blushing. "Oh, see! Someone's already up for that." Faith chuckled with the others. "But, we'd be happy to have you on our team."

Faith shook her forearms excitedly. "Thank you!" She swept her eyes from Oliver to Dinah and Cissie. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" The Arrows all nodded with friendly smiles.

Dinah said, turning her face to the blonde, "Cissie?"

"Mhm?"

"Would you please take Faith up to one of the bathrooms with a bathtub and help Faith wash her hair as good as you can?"

"Sure!" Cissie said, rising to her feet. Faith did, too, and Cissie linked her left arm with Faith's left. "Come on."

Faith waved to Wonder Woman and Zatanna, meeting their eyes, the heroines waving back. "Thank you both so much, really. I won't forget how you helped me today, even though you were right there, and you didn't have to. You still did because you're both such caring women, you don't leave people in need behind.{"

"That's right, Faith." Said Zatanna.

"And the flight over here was really fun."

Wonder Woman said, "You're welcome, Faith. Call us anytime, when you've earned comms rights." Zatanna nodded. Faith nodded too, then allowed Cissie to lead her on.

"Oh, and have her pick one of the guest rooms!" Oliver said.

"OK!" Cissie replied. The heroes were silent for five seconds, waiting for the sound of the girls' footsteps to be far enough away.

"So, you mentioned J'onn was on comms with you, in the Dragon Tomb?" Said Dinah.

"Yes, does his involvement in Faith's affairs concern you?" Said Wonder Woman.

"Well, not that I'm concerned about J'onn's possible interest in Faith, just curious. He wanted to know about the status of the asteroid belts, in particular the one near the sun, and why it had no magic, unlike the one near Sagitarrius."

"Did we not provide you with the answer, as we talked?"

"No, you did."

"Oh, OK then."

"I'm curious, too." Said Oliver. "Zatanna, you weren't at the Watchtower when Urania visited, when Faith was brought to Wayne Manor, but you were, Diana. Did he display any peculiar behaviours, or was he all business?"

Wonder Woman shook her head. "No, he was all business. I do think J'onn is perhaps a little bit too interested in Thalassic Space, if not Faith herself."

"Have you thought to ask why?" Dinah asked.

Wonder Woman bobbed her head. "Yes, but I'm still trying to puzzle out why, other than perhaps why only the ateroid belts appeared in our galaxy, and in a way Platonia, through the ritual that can be performed, and not the rest of the galaxy."

"Maybe J'onn is looking for something." Zatanna said.

"He must be." Said Dinah. Oliver and Wonder Woman nodded.

Wonder Woman said, "Faith hasn't mentioned any piece of lore that would imply something is waiting for J'onn, or Martians."

"Maybe she hasn't told us something." Said Zatanna.

"Or maybe there's nothing, and J'onn is chasing a dream." Oliver said.

"That could be true, as well."

Wonder Woman said, "Well, the only way we'll know is to ask J'onn directly, or wait and see what he does."

"Agreed." "Yes." Said the others.

Dinah said, "I don't think we should wait."

"I agree." Said Wonder Woman.

"If something is influencing him, and it's not a good thing, and it gets to where it wants to go, it could be trouble."

"Like the disasters Faith wrote about." Oliver said.

"Yes."

"Then, our only option is to ask J'onn what about Faith and Thalassic Space is so special to him, with all due respect." Said Dinah.

"I'll pay him a visit now," Wonder Woman said, standing. "And see what he has to say."

"Sounds fair." Said Oliver. "Why don't you return here, when you've found out?"

"No. Faith is here."

"Oh shoot, you're right. That slipped my mind."

"How about we meet in Boston, somewhere near my place? J'onn is in Detroit, so we can't meet at your house either, Zatanna."

"True." Zatanna replied.

"No objections here." Said Dinah. Oliver nodded.

"Good. Until then. Bye, everyone."

"Goodbye, Diana." Dinah said, as Diana walked out of the drawing room. Zatanna gave a short wave.

"Buh-bye." Said Oliver.

"On your way out as well, Zatanna?" Dinah asked.

"Well, I'd like to ask Faith about scheduling training with me, since neither of you are magicians."

"That sounds great, actually." Said Oliver.

"But then, yes, I'll be on my way, too."

Oliver said, getting on his feet, "I don't know if Faith's eaten yet, but Cissie said she was hungry, so I'm going to make two sandwiches."

"May I help, and bring up the food?"

"Sure, yeah."

Zatanna climbed the stairs of the mansion with a dinner plate bearing two sliced chicken sandwiches with mayonnaise, a tomato slice and leaf lettuce on twelve-grain bread, and two Red Delicious apples. She listened for running water as she passed the doors, and heard Faith chattering behind one of them. Zatanna knocked with the back of her left hand. "Girls? May I come in?"

"Come on in!" Said Cissie. She opened the door all the way, standing at its end. "Aw, look, Faith!" Zatanna immediately knew that Faith's hair smelled a lot better. "Thanks, Zatanna, I was hungry."

'Whatever Cissie used worked wonders!' Zatanna thought. "Yes, Oliver said you were hungry, and he was wondering if Faith was too, so he and I made two sandwiches."

"Aw, how nice."

Zatanna said, meeting Faith's eyes. "I figured you might be hungry, after all the stress you've had, this morning."

"I am, thank you."

"Did you eat breakfast?"

"Yeah, the bacon grease was from this morning."

"Oh, that makes sense. Well, now you've got a light lunch. I would have brought something for you to drink, but I needed an empty hand."

"Oh, that's fine," Cissie said. "I'll get us something. What are you in the mood for, Faithy?"

"I think just water."

"OK! I'll be back in second!" Cissie ran out, leaving the door open. Zatanna set the plate down on the nightstand, and sat on the queen sized bed.

"It's so weird how like, I've now been in two queen sized beds." Faith said. Oliver silently approached the door, and listened, out of sight.

"You've got a twin?"

"Yeah, my apartment isn't big."

"Have you been saving money for a bigger place?"

Faith shook her head. "Money goes fast, even though I quit playing Genshin Impact."

"Oh, yeah, that'll do it." Zatanna and Faith laughed.

"I still pay for things in mobile games, but I try not to spend more than twenty dollars a month. Doesn't always work out. Sometimes I have 200 that I'm not planning to use, and then I'm barely paying my non-essential bills, like my Youtube Premium subcription, or Lord of the Rings Online premium account subscription."

"But you pay your essential bills, like water, electricity, and phone?"

"Water is paid for with my rent? But yes, I almost always pay my hydro not just on time, but keep enough in my account for it, when it goes through, two business days later,"

"Oh, I see."

"And my phone bill, I just top-up my Telus Mobile account, on my phone."

"And how much do you usually pay, for all of your essential bills?"

"620 for rent, but it's due to increase by twenty-five, in a few months,"

"Yes, that's allowed." Zatanna said.

Cissie stopped beside Oliver, holding two tall glasses of water. She whispered, "Why? J-Just why?"

"Eighty-three to ninety-three for hydro, which is really good, since I think most houses pay 200," Faith said.

"Mhm." Zatanna replied.

Oliver whispered, "I think Zatanna's got a question for Faith that I wanna hear her answer. It's about J'onn."

"But that's because I live in the dark, and the only thing that bumps up my kilowatts is charging my scooter and my computer usage,"

"Martian Manhunter?"

"If you get in there, I think you'll figure out why. If not, ask me later. Or Faith, you know she loves her lore."

"Okie dokie!" Cissie entered the room, giving a glass to Faith.

"Thank you." Faith said.

"Welcome!" Cissie sat on the armchair in the room and sipped from her glass.

"Which is every day, and the hours depend on if I have work, or there's something I want to do in town, like visit the Farmer's Market or do some grocery shopping, or thrifting." Faith said.

"Huh, OK. You've got an electric scooter?" Zatanna said.

"Ooh, you do?" Cissie said.

"Yeah, I would not be able to properly shop for groceries, without it. I wouldn't get home with frozen foods in time, with just my mobility walker, and I couldn't carry much. Though, that'd be more ideal, as sometimes I forget I've bought fresh veggies, and they go bad."

"Aw, well then don't buy as much fresh produce." Said Zatanna.

"I know, and I do better at it some months than others. It's like, I want to make a dish, and I make it, but then I don't wanna make it again, and so I try to buy or have on hand things to make other dishes with those ingredients, and that's actually been working."

"Oh, good! And, what about your phone? How much are you paying for your plan and data?"

"I pay $45 for unlimited calls and texts, and 1 GB of data."

"Hm, that's decent, but not great."

"It's Telus."

"Oh, Telus are shit!" Cissie said. "Switch to Virgin, girl!"

"I know, I should really switch. I forget what my mom has, but she says it's good, too." Faith said. Cissie hummed, and sipped.

"Oh, right, I wanted to ask you something, Faith." Zatanna said.

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to schedule a training session with me, to work on your magic, do a couple tests?"

"Sure! Do you want my number?"

"Sure." Zatanna said, producing her smartphone. Faith told her the digits, Oliver of course memorising it instantly. Zatanna nodded, then put away her device. "Thank you."

Faith nodded. "Mhm."

"And, um. Are you, do you feel safe, now that you've dealt with the loophole and locked Ra's out of Thalassic Space?"

"Yeah. Like, even the dark sorcerers and non-magic users of Kaleido don't want me. They want people who don't fit their very strict and narrow views of what a Christian and a human should be."

"Right."

"They're too scared of me and the heroes of Thalassic Space to be a threat. And even when they act, they fall into their Roles, as Actors. So all of their hatred is for nothing, and it's not only God's plan, but the plan of the Flytower Gods."

"The Flytower Gods are new to me."

"Oh, you haven't seen the O-type star of Thalassic Space. Batman and Tim have, since I know they've read all of the lore and can even translate Neofom and Nerobzal by ear." Faith pulled her phone from her dufflebag and opened TSRPG, spinning the 3D model of the O-star around to show Zatanna all the magic circles. "The symbols in the eight magic circles represent the Flytower Gods and protect the planets from the O-star's heat and magic. In order of power, Vishnu and the Four Symbols of Chinese astrology are Tier 1, and depicted by the blue lotus and red eternity knot." Zatanna hummed, nodding. "The Norse, Greek and Egyptian pantheons are Tier 2, and the orange bolt of lightning, purple oak tree, and golden eye of Ra are for them. Yahweh, Asherah and Lucifer are Tier 3, but those new to Thalassic Space will only recognise David's star and the sigil of Baphomet. Asherah is resprented by the Double Eight, which visually tells the story of the O-type star's spirit." Faith released her finger from the model of the O-star, and closed the app, opening her Photos to one of the Double Eight. "I'll, uh, text you a QR code to download TSRPG, so you can read about the Double Eight, and whatever else you want. Just maybe don't press and hold the 'Travel to Pàrras' button, in your virtual room, without me. You can, if you want, but it'd be more fun and worth your time with me."

"Sure, I will do that, and will not do the other thing without you."

"Thanks. I should tell you about Chandra, the daughter of Calliope and Michael. Her Dragon Persona is part Android, called SOFFFIAA, the AI that's integrated in TSRPG."

"Ah, OK. So she's a cyborg, and part of her brain is actually artificial intelligence."

"Yep. Chandra, through SOFFFIAA, is how I can access the Internet, and work on worldbuilding at any time. She lets me save my work on my novel and other projects to the Cloud, as insecure as that actually is, it's still backed up, so it's better than nothing."

"Oh, for sure. So, you're not afraid of anything or anyone, right now."

"Nope, no fear."

"Good." 'She's not considering J'onn to be a threat. Whether that's because there's no alien life like Martians, but I need to know if J'onn would fit right in to Thalassic Space, like Ra's was. You know what? I'll just ask. She's happy to share lore, after all!' "Would any members of the League, or the Titans, Teen Titans, what have you, be considered legitimate citisens or entities with special permissions, like Ra's was?"

"Oh, like the Martians or Lanterns?"

"Yes, like them."

Faith shook her head. "I don't have aliens or space wizards. However, because Thalassic Space is part ocean and part space, merfolk and Dragon Kin can survive in one or both environments. Ooh, do you know about the Dragon Kin?"

"Like, Dragon Born, and other draconic peoples?"

"Yes. Dragon Born, Dragon Skin, and Dragon Form, all self-explanatory."

"Ah, thank you."

"It would depend on the lineage, say the Mother Born and Father Born, or on the powers of the individual, and the same would go for visitors. Uh, I think those terms I just threw at you were new to you, soooo, Mother Born are of Mother Mermaid and Father Born are of Father Dragon."

"Yes, they were, and thank you. Hm, that's interesting."

"That's so cool." Cissie half-whispered. Faith giggled, and Zatanna chuckled.

Zatanna thought, 'J'onn could change his form, and then who knows what he might do. There are other powerful species in Thalassic Space that J'onn could transform into to gain advantages, like Neo and Nero Spirits, and who knows what else.' "So, say that a Martian or Lantern were to enter Thalassic Space and seek power over others, like Ra's could have, or to better their own quality of life."

Faith raised her left hand, palm upwards, and replied, "They could find both things, yeah. If it were the former, they'd butt heads with the heroes of Thalassic Space, and would fall on their ass because it's all a Stage Play, even with all of the faith I could muster. That's what it's supposed to be. For fun, for the dead citizens of Thalassic Space, the comatose of the galaxy and this one, and lucid dreamers from both galaxies."

"That's kinda grim, but also really cool!" Cissie said. Faith giggled with her, Zatanna slightly delayed.

'Aha.' Zatanna thought. 'I know Wonder Woman knows that it's all a Stage Play, but it might be worth reminding her, to help with her first question. But, since she's likely already there, and greeted and began to interrogate J'onn, she'd have a new question for him. It might get him to reveal any ill-intentions he has.'

"The latter aspiration could be accomplished peacefully. It would really depend on the visitor's intentions and actions." Faith said.

"Huh. That makes sense." Zatanna said. "Sorry about the questions, I was just curious."

"Oh, no problem, I love telling lore,"

"Yes, you do." Zatanna nodded, lifting her cheeks to smile.

"And if it's somehow helping you with something I don't need to know about, you're all good. I trust you." Faith smiled with her cheeks.

"Well, that's all I wanted to know."

"OK! Thanks again, Zatanna."

"You're welcome, bunny."

Zatanna turned her body to briefly hug Faith, who said, "Ooh, that's a new one! I like it!" The girls chuckled.

Zatanna said, "Glad you like it." She stood and went out of the room, glancing at Oliver, who tailed her. "Bye, girls!"

"Bye, Zatanna!" Said Cissie.

"Bye!" Faith said.

"Eavesdropping, are we, Oliver?" Zatanna quietly said, as she and Oliver descended the stairs.

"I came to pick up the bunny rabbit and put it in the laundry machine, and thought it would be worth my time to stop and listen."

"Was it?"

"Yes."

"Good. I've already bid you and Dinah goodbye, so I'll just go to the door."

"Oh, please, allow me." Oliver quickened his pace, and opened the door.

"Thank you." Zatanna flashed a smile. Oliver returned the gesture, then shut the door. Oliver climbed the stairs again, and stepped into the doorway. The girls sat on the bed, eating the sandwiches and apples.

"Hey." Said Oliver.

"Hi!" Faith replied.

"Do you mind if I take your bunny and put it in the wash, since you're keeping it?"

"Oh, that'd be nice, thank you." Faith said.

Oliver hummed, his eyes drifting over to the satchelbag. 'What's in there, I wonder?' He opened the pouch that obviously had a rabbit plush, and grimaced as he pulled it out. "Phew! Jason really just pulled this out of a dumpster to bully you?"

"I had a bigger, pink and white one, that I threw in the garbage when I was moving out of my parents' place. I had just told them about Mr. Bunny, today."

"Oh. So he really pulled no punches, to get to your emotions."

"Yeah. I miss him."

"Why'd you throw it, er, sorry, him out?"

"Well, he was my roleplay buddy,"

Cissie cooed. "Aw! Sorry."

Faith giggled. "So its muzzle was all black, and its neck was coming apart. I was only ever allowed to wash him a couple of times, when I had him. It was just time."

"Huh." Said Oliver. "Sorry you weren't able to keep him in good shape, and had to say goodbye."

"I haven't been able to find him again, either."

"Not anywhere?"

"Yeah. Here, I've got the two closest pictures." Faith showed Oliver and Cissie the pictures, describing Mr. Bunny using them.

"Aw, he was so cute!" Cissie said.

"Yeah, he was nice. I keep collecting toys, but nothing's like him."

"Well, of course not." Said Oliver. "That was your best friend." Faith nodding, a bit of red in her smiling cheeks. "When's your birthday?"

"September fourth. I'll be twenty-five."

"Well, that's no reason to not have a fun-themed party, is it?"

"No, it's not. Only thing is, I've never had friends my age. My family do give me presents, on my birthday, or just a 'Happy birthday' text or GIF, if they can't visit for whatever reason." Faith batted her lashes, her eyes smiling with her cheeks. "A fun-themed party would be awesome to finally have, though."

"Well, September is a ways away, but you're welcome to write a list, and your wishes will be our command."

"Awww, thank you." Faith said.

Oliver just smiled with his cheeks. "Well, come back down into the drawing room when you're done eating, and I'll take you to the Arrowcave, if you're up for some training, today."

"Sure! I did some already, with the Batkids, but I'd love to start with you today!"

"Great! See you in a bit, then." Oliver said. Faith nodded.

As Oliver sat in the driver's seat of his black Pugani Huayra and buckled himself in, he looked at Faith, who looked, "Excited?"

"Yeah, this is only my second time going stupidly fast in a car."

"Oh! Well, did you like it?"

"It was insane, and yes, it was awesome. Bruce said it was a Spectre-something, 2024."

"Oh, 2024 Rolls-Royce Spectre."

"Yeah, that one."

"Ah, he went easy on you. This one costs a lot more."

"How much, in Canadian dollars?"

"In Canadian dollars?"

"I'm Canadian, Ollie."

"Oh! I didn't know that. Uh, I think 4.6 million?"

"Wow! Yeah, that's a lot more."

"Mhm. Did you throw up?"

"Nope!"

"All right, well, let me know if you feel nauseous, and I'll stop 'an let you puke outside, 'kay?"

"OK!"

"All right." Oliver started the ignition.

Oliver was laughing in his chest, but not vocally, as he exited the car at the underground level of the mayor's office. He could hear Faith's hearty laughter and giggles from inside the vehicle. He sauntered around the hood and opened the passenger door, offering his left hand to Faith, who used it, but still fumbled, saying, "Aa!" But not screaming, while Oliver swiftly moved his hands to steady her.

"Kh, you good?"

"Yep! Yeah, thanks." Faith said, stomping her feet on the ground.

"OK, good." Oliver said, sort of under his breath, and led Faith on to the door, unlocking it. He turned the lights on, and Faith gasped, her mouth wide open as she followed Oliver further in, the door closing and locking behind them. "Whatcha think?"

"So cool!" Faith said, raspily.

Oliver chuckled. "So! What did they teach you?"

Click the emoji to navigate to the next chapter. ⏭️

[meilas]

Socks' Ultimate Phantoms list

Phantoms

Franc D'Ambrosio - Yes. Brings all the sad noises and I am here for it. Nice voice. Excellent acting and facial expressions. Very expressive eyes. Is a cinnamon roll irl. Gary Mauer - Best voice ever. 10/10 would believe this man was an angel. Greg Mills - Looks like a cinnamon roll, will kill you. I never thought tongue action could be sexy but here we are. Ted Keegan - Looks like a cinnamon roll, is a cinnamon roll. Surprisingly sexy. Killian Donnelly - Looks like a cinnamon roll. I can't explain why I like him, but I do. Christopher Carl - I've only heard audio of him but I like him based on how he sobbed on the golden angel. Jeremy Stolle - Nice voice. Acting is too subtle. Peter Karrie - I love how he takes certain notes up a step, just to show that he can. Slightly nasally, but tolerable. Davis Gaines - tbh all I remember really is him slowly rocking his hips while he was sprawled on the portcullis and I now judge all phantoms on a metric of how good their pants look. 9/10 his pants. Peter Joback - I absolutely hated him when he sang in English. I liked him a little better when he did the show in Swedish. James Hume - Unmemorable. Michael Nicholson - Excellent acting choices. Was thinking about him for two weeks after watching. I just really like the production in German, okay? Earl Carpenter - Better in his earlier runs. Good acting choices. Simon Pryce - Very deep voice. Stands nicely. Scott Davies - He looked like fun and I wanted to like him. Noped out of that one pretty quick. Too much vibrato. Anthony Crivello - From the Vegas boot! I actually don't remember too much about him. But I know I liked the boot! Ben Crawford - Tended to have really weird pronunciation toward the end of his run. He was decent when I saw him right after the Broadway reopening. The most remarkable thing he did was to belly slide all the way across the stage during STYDI. Other than that, I recall nothing specific. Thiago Arancam - Remarkable only in the fact that he is boring. Uwe Kroger - The boob-stroking guy. I remember nothing else. Cooper Grodin - Entertaining in the fact that his acting is so wooden. Nice voice when he's not doing blocking at the same time. Good pants. It helps that he never skips leg day. Laird Mackintosh - I think he was good? I honestly don't remember. Geronimo Rauch - I remember I liked him! Norm Lewis - Nice voice, a little boring. Sorry Norm. John Owen-Jones - Hands. Michael Crawford - Absolutely not. I do not understand what anyone sees in him. His voice sounds like it's about to snap any second, and he is very unsexy. David Shannon - Yes. Absolutely yes. Excellent acting choices and nice voice. Does sad very well. Deserved better. Saulo Vasconcelos - All I can recall is @wheel-of-fish spamming the chat with "hands" all night and that's all anyone really needs to know about his Phantom. Ethan Freeman - Looks like a goddamn stick insect during Final Lair and I am here for it. Looks like Tony Shaloub. Bronson Norris Murphy - Technically only was the Phantom in Love Never Dies. RIP. He deserved better. Anyway. His voice is a little deeper than Franc's or Gary's. I wish he had gotten a chance to play the Phantom in POTO proper. I am very curious as to how he would have played it. Looks like a cinnamon roll, is a burnt cinnamon roll. Ramin Karimloo - He was my intro to POTO on stage. I liked his performance enough that I went looking for more clips of the musical, and found the Saturday Streams. Eiji Akutagawa - Ah yes. The self-groping Phantom. That's all I can remember about him. Josh Piterman - Does sad very well. Gerard Butler - My first-first Phantom. I still like him. There's something about his voice that I do actually like, and it annoys me very much when people go "he can't sing" yes he can, everyone has the ability to sing. Just shut up and let me enjoy what I like in peace. Hugh Panaro - Great voice, excellent acting. Funny. Fun to watch. Reminds me of Franc, in that they're both innocent/childish. Hugh is more childish and angry. Looks like he could kill you, and he might, it depends on his mood.

PART TWO

[iamfuckingsorry]

1 6 14 31 for the weird asks! :)

Oh my gosh, hi! ^^ Thanks for asking and so sorry for taking such a long time to respond after begging for asks haha. I got stuck doing thesis work unfortunately. But now that a deadline has passed and the next one isn't till 3 days from now, here we go! ^^

1. who is/are your comfort character(s)?

Chronologically: Ukitake from Bleach (yes, I know... I stopped following Bleach before the manga got wrapped up and only learned how it all ended for him like a year ago... not gonna lie, I cried, my man deserves so much more), Ten from DW, Spock from TOS/TOS movies, Vash from Trigun, probably a lot of people from my teenage years I'm forgetting about here, Prowl from Transformers animated (or more like a specific fan version of him lol), Ratchet from basically every Transformers continuity the more fucked up the better, Aizawa from BNHA, momentarily all overshadowed by Kim from Disco Elysium...

Also not technically a comfort character I guess but I won't miss a chance to mention my second biggest fictional crush ever, Kaylee from Firefly. That girl might be the closest I've ever had to a role model, she's just so cool

6. why did you do that?

invariably the same answer no matter what the matter at hand is, it's because I'm dumb as fuck and do stuff before I have time to think about the consequences, alternatively despite knowing the consequences :))

14. do you love the smell of earth after it rains?

yes. yes I do.

31. what type of music keeps you grounded?

the most grounding audio thing I can imagine is putting articles about plane crashes from this one specific person into a text to voice program :))) I'm not a music person at all haha, don't think I've ever even owned a CD!

Thanks so much again for the asks, this was fun!!

[thedragonshanty]

Audio Drama Sunday!

It’s been a hot second since I’ve done #audiodramasunday but this week I wanna shout out a few shows that are worth listening to, AND whose cast/creators I have personally seen make the community a better, more supportive place lately. 🎶🏴‍☠️🖤

🤖 First up, say hello to your new AI overlords with @human-b-gon. You’re seeing buzz about this show for a reason- but it’s also worth noting the creators have been on the scene connecting and hyping up other creators for a while now. That’s dedication worth mentioning!

💖 Warmly welcome @starshipqstar to the community y’all! Queer comedic sci-fi with a ton of heart. And let’s GO with this aesthetic. The show may be new, but I already see them going out of their way to interact with and boost other creators.

🐺 OBVIOUSLY @packhowlmedia is on this list. Aside from helping us produce, the creators also run #ADRAID. Our feature this week boosted our numbers and made us new friends! Trust me, connect with these creative mentors and listen to their AD leviathan, The Madness of Chartrulean.

💚 Did you know The Liminal Lands features other shows embedded in their episodes to support them? Or that the creator runs one of the most active Discord communities for AD I’ve ever seen? There’s so much love in there. Go marvel at this family-grown, surreal journey!

💅 Love drag? Camp? Soap operas? Ever wish there was an audio drama that brought these elements together in a series of feature-length stories? @sisterindica-blog may write some of the backstabbiest plots you’ve ever heard, but is a warm presence for creators and is always boosting.

⭐ When I think about support in this community, I think W. Keith Tims (who is not on Tumblr but go follow him elsewhere!) His show Book of Constellations is itself a love note to humankind, and he started The First Episode Of to uplift AD creators (we’ve been guests on it ourselves!)

🎧 Chances are good you know @horrificnathan (@thestoragepapers) and Cole Weavers' (Tiny Terrors) shows, but they deserve a shoutout for all they do. Did you know they also run Phonic Fiction Fest, a community-bolstering AD contest? We are still reeling from the connections and impact even months later.

📚 Speaking of PFF connections, have you seen @amongthestackspodcast's progress? Releasing soon and picking up speed, it’s going to be one to look out for. Nigel is a great ringleader, bringing people together, and I’m excited to see her vision for the infinite library.

✨ @innbetween has brought some wonderful connections into our life and show, and how could they not with the sweet, uplifting community they foster? Also, have you seen how committed they are to interacting with fans while staying down-to-earth? Aspirational honestly.

💜Ok yes I’m also in @careandfeedingofwerewolves, but I stick around for a reason. Listen to a few episodes and you’ll hear more than just a fun modern fantasy. They’ve baked in a ton of advocacy, found family, and blatant callouts on issues that often effect people in AD.

🥛 Lastly, go listen to @ophiuchusradio. They’re not *just* doing it for the bit. OR is funny, smart, and they have a full first season ready to binge. @ghirahims-left-shoe is a powerhouse of AD hype with an impeccable ear for the craft. If she spots your show, you’re seriously blessed.

🖤 I’ve undoubtedly missed some this week (already kicking myself over a few, I'll getcha next time!) but please know I’ve got a lot of love for y’all and this community. Keep creating. Keep uplifting creators who are using their stories to make the world magical. Keep being kind and human. To others, and to yourself.

[mehoymalloy]

WATER LANDING; Jagged Deep

Continuing with the black box shorts that are a small part of my Horizon Big Bang 2022 piece, When the Darkness Comes, because I think these soldiers’ stories deserve to be heard (even if I made them up).

Jagged Deep Black Box Transcript:

SECOND OFFICER BASSILI: I can't raise the airfield. Must've been destroyed.

CAPTAIN VEESENMEYER: Well, we're out of time and out of fuel. I have to put us down on that lake. Let's give these soldiers a chance to die fighting.

SECOND OFFICER BASSILI: This is the flight deck. We're going for a water landing. Leave everything behind except what you need for the fight. Now's your time to go out in a blaze of glory. Brace, brace!

Listen to the audio log on my photomode Twitter account here.

"This is the flight deck," Second Officer Bassili spoke over the intercom, voice smooth from practice, far too familiar with lying through her teeth. "We're going for a water landing. Leave everything behind except what you need for the fight. Now's your time to go out in a blaze of glory. Brace! Brace!"

In the cabin, a motley crew of soldiers—ten in total—did as they were told.

Many things happened simultaneously.

Hudson Fulton, the youngest, held on to his safety harness so tightly that his knuckles ached from the pressure. But he forced a cocky smile, buck-toothed and shockingly genuine. "Alright, boys! Who wants to take me on this time? Bet I can bring down one of those tin cans 'fore any of you can!"

Across from him, Otto Ramsey, who happened to be the oldest and the only veteran of the group, rolled his eyes. Young guns and their egos… He checked the laces on his boots, ensured his rifle's safety was on, and braced for impact.

Nina Bostock, one of the few women on board, took deep, shuddering breaths. A water landing. Of course it would be a water landing. Just her fucking luck.

Beside her, Talia Rahman, the only other woman on the squad, subtly brushed her fingers against Nina's clenched fist, offering what little comfort she could. Heedless of the whoops and cheers that scared boys emitted all around them to soothe their own fears, she murmured under her breath, "We've got this. I've got you."

And Brodie Higgs, who had not heard from his wife in nearly two months, was barely even aware of his surroundings. He simply did not care. He was tired. If a watery grave took him, he would happily sink. If he was lucky, maybe his wife would be waiting for him. Though with the choices he'd made over his forty years, an afterlife would only see him in hell. And his wife, his sweet Marie, deserved a fucking red carpet laid out before her through the gates of heaven. She always deserved better than him. These last two months had only sunk that truth into his psyche deeper and deeper. He did not grip his harness. He did not ready his weapon. He stared blankly at the floor and closed his eyes the moment they made impact. He was so tired...

The plane hit at a poor angle. The hull buckled instantly, and the screech of tearing metal was quickly drowned by the sound of rushing water. Both pilots and all ten soldiers perished.

Hudson, still raring to prove himself despite his fear, did his best to swim upward but drowned nevertheless, reaching out for that distant speck of sunlight.

Otto died instantly, his skull cracking against the wall of the plane.

Talia, struggling to pull Nina's body toward the surface with her, also drowned. She held onto Nina's hand until the moment she lost consciousness.

Brodie hit his head against the hard metal of his safety mechanism at the perfect angle, and was instantly knocked unconscious. If the blunt force of the blow didn't take him, then the murky depths surely did.

Black Box 3/12

[punchfacechamp1on]

The worst part of recovery from abuse during your marriage is wondering if you are what your abuser said you are. All the second guessing and hesitation. The anxiety over simple things like "oh, better not get myself that face wash product, that helps me maintain a smidge of self esteem, this week because my husband will be angry if he can't buy booze or a breeze or weed." I lost myself in helping him get where he wanted to be in life. I endured daily emotional and verbal abuse. Psychological games that only he could win. Physical beat downs because "you were being annoying" or "you wouldn't look at me".

This isn't even scratching the surface. Im currently in a shelter for domestic violence victims. There are several balls rolling on housing and I'm trying to contact an uncle for help with a vehicle. I attend therapy once a week, which honestly doesn't feel like enough. I experience flash backs and dissociation. I'm remembering details that have been cloaked in fog for so long. A lot of my daily activity consists of trying not to intellectualize my trauma. I experience Intense physical reactions to thoughts of my husband or the slight chance we might run into each other in public. I've learned through group therapy with him, a pathetic attempt on his part to 'prove I'm the crazy one', that he fits into all the right categories to qualify as a narcissist. And his dark triad scores are particularly high. I've learned, also, that I cannot help him because there is intention to change or grow within him. I am his wife and he feels zero remorse or guilt or shame over physically, emotionally, verbally, and psychologically manipulating and abusing me. I have hours of audio. He says all of this himself. He's said he wishes death, famine, and disease on me and my family. (he's got an insane flair for the dramatic for attention obviously.) I have 2 daughters hes said he loves that are not his children.

I could go on and on and on. The abuse I've endured is heinous and hideous. I feel strong enough now to start putting it down on paper, in the form of poems and stories. But I am definitely going to start a digital journal. Typing is infinitely faster when I'm trauma dumping. Paper and pencil isn't a good medium for the cathartic, emotional release I absolutely need right now. I need to write almost as fast as I think so I'm going to get my laptop from my mom's house. when I put pencil to paper, I get irritated that I can't write fast enough! Ridiculous. So if I type out my internal monologue and memories and all that jazz, I'll feel better writing my poems and stories and haikus with my pencil/paper. The action of writing for the sake of writing is different than 'journaling' for me now.

Apparently I've suffered a big enough trauma that my 15 year writers block has lifted. Ha. I have no idea if anyone is going to read this and empathize or sympathize but if anyone does...I hope you haven't gone through this. If you have, then I am so fucking sorry. Idk why it happens but it's not your fault and you are worthy of love, acceptance, and happiness. You deserve all these things and more.

I have to stop for now. I am having trouble seeing. Cry time.

🧡allie

[tenebrius-excellium]

A Hero’s Guide To Deadly Dragons Liveblog Part 3

- oh. ohhh. Idk the audio I listened to seems to have been badly arranged, the book wasn’t that long after all! It said 5 hours but was done at 2.5 hours

- so I’m done with Book 6 now

- Stoick + Bertha: still the best chaotic friendship hahaaa

- I so enjoy Bertha’s voice ahhhhhh

- I didn’t enjoy Hairy’s voice. I believe his dialogue would have sounded much more threatening if I had read it in my own inner narrating voice. I suppose it just happens like that sometimes with David Tennant running out of new voices to create. That’s okay.

- GUMBOIL on the other hand was veryveryvery much enjoyable :D I WANNA SEE MORE OF HIM PLEEEAAAAASE

- “Perhaps Thor had decided to save their lives by taking out his hammer and knocking a piece out of the sky to strike down the enraged librarian.” You know. Every once in a while, Cressida produces wonderful, simplistic poetry. I really wish there was more of it!!! She would make a splendid poet I’m sure!!!

- pheeewwww, Stormfly got her memory back. Much relieved. I like her sooo muuuuch

- Toothless and Stormfly: second best chaotic friendship haha. WHAT A DUO XD what an unlikely pair to form a friendship. A jealous, selfish but unexpectedly loyal green gremlin and a beautiful, scaly, shiny liar with looong lashes.

- “Madguts is interested to hear, Bertha, that you feel there are some people it would be unwise to nick things from, because he would have thought that HE would be one of those people.” THE DELIVERY OF THAT LIIIIIIIIIINE Gumboil my new bff is awesome with words!!!!

- Stealth dragon is a real goodie-goodie, and he’s working for a real baddie-baddie. TRAITOR haha. Come to think of it, this dragon has neither a name nor an opinion about anything. It remains entirely silent, like its master. Don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing, concerning the oppression of dragons that we’ve already discussed

- Yo but Hiccup framing the Hairy Scary Librarian to save Bertha is sooooooooooo wroooooooooong and feels soooooooo out of character for him..... this wasn’t for the best of anyone, this was Hiccup saving himself and the people who were important to him. As a person who greatly valued books too, Hiccup should have understood why the Librarian acted territorial about them. Vikings stealing rare books for fun, damaging them, and never returning them, is something that makes my heart bleed and makes me feel like a great injustice was done to the Librarian for protecting them. The killing revenge spree he went on is “acceptable” because killing each other over trivial things is normal in that universe. What isn’t acceptable is Hiccup sending poor, UNCONSCIOUS Hairy to the Slave Lands!!!??? He’s INNOCENT!!! He wasn’t given a chance to defend himself, and he was in fact in the right about Hiccup stealing from him! Uhh Hiccup I expected better from you here??? Your later excuse about the Librarian is PATHETIC and I hope this mistake comes to bite you one day

- sure the Librarian should have made his library open to the public but that’s not a reason to send him to the Slave Lands for!!!????? @ book fandom I need your thoughts on this pls??? I’m yelling about a moral injustice here

- “Brilliant!”, whispered Camicazi under her breath. “That’s brilliant! - For a boy, of course.” haha but that comment was cute

- No, Gumboil doesn’t believe this bullshit and I applaud him for it (but that’s just the cherry on top. I would have liked him even if he hadn’t said this)

- “liberate” the Meathead Public Library and stop the ban on books ohhhkay

- okayyyyyy fine I get the lesson on the importance of public knowledge but it was still so unfair to that person. It didn’t justify the means. If Hiccup was so brilliant he could have done it differently. 

- Stoick is proud aahhhhhhhhhh

- Bertha is at least a good sport, wonderful

- Hiccup: “America!” - “Nosuchplace”, snorted Stoick. Lol

- Book can save your lives YES THEY CAN

- Hiccup gets a birthday banquet awwwww he deserves it after this day lol

[mythiccheroacademia]

—“get your son/daughter” 

𝕙𝕠𝕥 𝕘𝕚𝕣𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕥𝕤: 𝕚𝕟 𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕔𝕙 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕝𝕕 𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕘𝕖𝕥𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕝𝕚𝕧𝕖 𝕚𝕟 𝕒 𝕓𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕜 𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕖𝕙𝕠𝕝𝕕 𝕡𝕥. 𝟚 | 𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖’𝕤 𝕡𝕥.𝟙 𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: 𝕔𝕦𝕣𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕘, 𝕒𝕤𝕤 𝕨𝕙𝕠𝕠𝕡𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 𝕓𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕜-𝕗𝕖𝕞!𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

Midoriya Izuku:

despite having two of the sweetest parents on earth, your son had a mouth on him

you didn’t know if it was bc he hung around his sailor mouth pomeranian looking uncle a lot or if it was the three inch growth spurt that got him feeling all big and bad

but you and your husband caught him illegally using his quirk outside of school and freaked

and apparently, your kid had gotten comfortable enough to say, “you guys are being so stupid about this”

that was how izuku ended up holding you back as you tried to look over his shoulders and let your son know what was on your mind 

“YOUR SON JUST CALLED ME STUPID AND YOU’RE JUST GONNA LET HIM GET AWAY WITH THAT!?”

“no of course not, honey! i just think you should calm down a little—”

“SO YOU SIDING WITH THE ENEMY??!!”

there was no use getting to you and so izuku pleaded, “S/N, apologize to your mother! now! please!!”

fed up, the boy goes, “urgh!! you guys don’t get it! how am i supposed to learn about being hero when all dad does is go on and on about all might? all might wasnt even that cool!”

izuku dramatically gasped and whipped his head around to stare at his son with shock

you even paused to let out a small gasp of your own

it was silent for a hot minute

then the young boy realized his mistake when his usually kind father narrowed his eyes in betrayl

“w-wait, i didnt mean that—“

midoriya released you and simply stepped to the side 

your son started shivering when he watched an evil smirk grow on your face 

“dad hold on—!”

“I’m going to go watch videos of my favorite uncool super hero” izuku huffed before leaving the room 

you slowly stalked towards your son

“so what was that you said about me being stupid?”

it was at that point that he knew he shouldve kept his big mouth shut

Kirishima Eijirou:

in kirishima’s eyes, his daughter could do no wrong 

ofc she had her moments, but overall, she was a bright, sunny, and happy kid that was too good and pure for this world

that’s why he always tried to ease down any punishments you gave her

but when she acted like this, kirishima knew it was either let you do what you needed to do, or stand in your way and get taken down with her 

bc even a 6′0+ man with 200lb+ of muscle like him could whither away from your glare

you didn’t get angry often, but when you did, shit was terrifying asf

so when you asked your daughter to hand over your phone and she smacked her teeth and threw it on the counter...

it was game over 

everyone in the room silently watched the phone clank around until it stopped

the room went quiet save for the ticking clock

your daughter’s eyes widened as she realized her mistake 

your head turned to your husband and kirishima felt sweat start to pool at his temple

you stared at him for a minute before calmly speaking 

“you have three seconds to get your daughter before i do bc i swear i will—”

that was all, eijirou needed to hear

“D/N, go to your room. you’re grounded for two weeks”

“yes, sir. also i’m sorry mom!” she quickly yelped before running upstairs

once she was gone, you let out a frustrated breath as he went up to you, attempting to quell your anger

you turned around to continue flipping through the TV and smacked your teeth before throwing the remote on the couch, too upset to find your fav channel

“I dont know where the hell she gets that attitude from, my goodness” you ranted

kirishima looked away in hoplessness as he rubbed your shoulders 

“yeah, no idea...” he chuckled

Sero Hanta: 

this was 100% inspired by that kevin hart tiktok audio

sero came home from a long day of hero work 

he was mainly on patrol but they had him swinging around every which way to cover an absent hero

he was annoyed and his elbows were sore 

all he wanted to do was stuff his face w some food, kiss his children goodnight, and curl up next to you until he was in dreamland

but you had different plans

the poor man didn’t even get a chance to take off his shoes before you bascially materialized in front of him looking like a bull ready to storm right through him

“hanta. i’ve had it up to HERE with that little boy! you better get em’!”

sero looks like a deer in head lights

“huh?”

“you just gonna him get away with talking to us like that?!”

“talk to us like what? nobody talked to me like anything!”

“all i know is, you better go in there and teach that boy a lesson!”

sero is literally on the verge of tears

“babe, what’s going on—”

before he could say anything more, you shoved the famous “beat-that-ass” slipper in his hand and left him fuming over whatever it was that made you angry 

hanta is speechless and can do nothing but stare after you until his oldest daughter walks by

she munches on a tangerine slice in her hand and gives him an empathetic pat on the shoulder before disappearing into the hallway 

he sighs 

he couldn’t get one day of peace huh?

sero catiously opens the door to his son’s room who is unsuspectingly playing his video game

the boy raises a brow. “oh hey papa. whats up?”

sero prays he forgives him

“listen son. i dont know why, but your mama told me i gotta beat your ass so imma do it before i get my ass beat”

minutes later your son comes ito you crying and rubbing his behind to apologize to you for slamming the door in your face and telling you to shut up 

sero can’t say he didn’t deserve it, but that was the most guilty ass whopping he ever gave

~~~

click here if you wanna be added to the taglist

@mypimpademia @itsdulce @shluttybaby @oh-sotired @pinkceokjin23 @chefakari @Redamansea @infernaltribute7 @black-bhabie-2000 @azura-galaxy @amajikibby @des-the-girl @brithedemonspawn @blkanimegyal @mixfi @ravioliplease @wasabito @iiminibattlehero @denkisdurag @angelofdarkness1020 @yourlocalmilf69​ @ourvisty​  @oc3anwav3ss @angelanika @lilsparkyswife @sheerxradiance @popbubblegumpop @that-dark-emo-bitch @myhoodacademia @tbhteamwang @sheepydumpling @0-starzie-0​ @iamagalaxy @cheeselorde  @bnhathotty @sunshineszn @sanmishwegy @animoozies @kaidousgf

[mintelepathy]

"From now on, you won't be alone anymore"

idol!jungkook x reader/oc

word count: +2.0k

genre: fluff¿

warnings: swear words¿

summary: jungkook can't stop thinking about the girl he met at a convenience store in the middle of the night and he can't help but return to see her again.

mlist

Jungkook can't sleep today, he's been sitting on the floor of his living room for almost three hours now, a piece of paper placed on his coffee table and a pen in his right hand.

Writing lyrics was easy when he felt inspired, but today it wasn't the case, he really wanted to make some progress with his mixtape but it seems that it wasn't the right time now.

He gave up. He knew that his attempts to write some lyrics were in vain for the moment, he needed to do something else, maybe something that could inspire him.

He often goes for a walk at night around his neighborhood, the later it is the better for him, it's the only time of the day where he doesn't feel like being spied, he understands what fame brings but sometimes people really step out of the line, and he wasn't happy with that, let's not misunderstand, he loves when fans approached him respectfully and talked to him, he just doesn't like when people follow him around with bad intentions.

He didn't even waste his time changing his clothes, he grabbed a coat because it was chilly outside and headed to the streets.

The night was quite peaceful, mostly because it was 3 in the morning, but it was a different kind of peace, and he enjoyed it. Trees filled the area where he lived creating a gentle wind, feeling the night breeze was something he loved, he stopped walking for a moment and took a big breath with his eyes closed. The air felt clean compared to other days.

When he opened his eyes the first thing he spotted was a convenience store crossing the street. He usually doesn't have any late snack, even more now that he is on a diet, but today he'll make an exception.

He made his way to the store with no rush and opened the door, it was his first time there, it wasn't like he didn't visit convenience stores often but that he had never seen that place before the times he went for a walk.

He greeted the girl who was working there and headed straight to the shelves looking for kombucha tea and ramen, he had the intention of eating the ramen there since those kind of stores had microwaves, so people were able to prepare their instant food and eat it right away.

But there was a problem, the kombucha tea was nowhere to be found.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the counter, you found yourself watching the boy who just entered the store looking around the shelves for something unsuccessfully, you decided to make your way towards him to see if he needed any help.

"Excuse me, do you need help with anything?" The boy was wearing a big black bucket hat and a black face mask so it was quite difficult to see how his face looked.

"Uhm yeah, do you sell kombucha tea?" It was crazy how kombucha tea was being sold lately.

"Yes we do, but it's sold out at the moment, I heard somewhere that a singer recommend it and people got really interested and bought it until stores ran out of it" a giggle escaped his lips.

"I think I know who you are talking about" he took off his bucket hat to fix his hair, and put it back quickly. You could see his eyes for a split second and you felt like you have seen those eyes before, they were so big and pretty, like bambi eyes.

"Oh really, who is this famous singer then?" You knew you have read or heard about this guy but you couldn't remember his name.

"Jungkook" there it was when you realized.

"You are Jungkook" he just nodded. "I knew you seemed familiar" you confessed. "Anyway, is there anything else I can help you with?" You asked politely.

"Can I use the microwave?" He was the first person who asked you if they could use the microwave, people often just used it without asking.

"Yeah, of course" you made your way to the counter again and sat in your chair.

You couldn't help but watched him as he prepared the ramen, working there, and at night, was boring as hell so you never missed the opportunity to talk to customers when you had the chance, but you weren't quite sure if you should go and try to have a conversation with him. You didn't want him to think that you were approaching him just because he was famous.

Seeing him preparing ramen made you feel hungry, you also wanted to eat some so you didn't think twice and went to grab a cup of ramen.

He was sited just right besides the microwave so it was impossible to ignore his presence. You saw that he forgot to grab chopsticks so you picked two pairs from a shelve.

"Here" you said as you handed him the chopsticks.

"Thank you" he gently grabbed them, he had taken his bucket hat off so you were able to see him more properly now. "I see you are hungry" he said and you smiled.

"Yeah, I've been staring all night at those cups of ramen and I couldn't hold myself when I saw you preparing it" you said calmly trying to make him feel comfortable around you.

"Should we eat together then?" His question took you by surprise, he was being so sweet considering you were a completely stranger to him.

"I don't think I'm allowed to do this, but yes" you sat on the only chair left, which was besides him, and waited until your ramen was done.

"Would you get in trouble for eating with me?" He sounded concerned.

"Just if my boss finds out, but he is never around and almost no one buys things at this hour, so I don't think he'll know" fuck your boss, you didn't really like him, he was really rude to everyone.

"Well, in case your boss finds out, I can come and tell him that it was all my fault" it was the second time he made you smile.

You were ready to get up when you heard the microwave was done getting the ramen cooked, but Jungkook got up faster and brought it for you.

"Thank you" you said as he sat again, you both opened the chopsticks and started eating, even though he could start eating his ramen sooner he waited until yours was ready.

He obviously wasn't wearing his face mask anymore so you could see his features clearly. He was stunning. "What brought you here so late?" You asked him to start a conversation.

"I was trying to write some lyrics on my apartment but it didn't turn out how I wanted, I also couldn't sleep so I decided to take some fresh air, then when I was walking I saw this store and well, now I'm here" he took another bite of ramen. "Do you work here all night?" He asked you.

"Yeah, until 6am, it's kinda scary going back home alone after work because I have to walk and it's still dark outside when I leave, but anyways i'm here just during the weekend tought, I'm studying at collage so actually this is a part time job for me, I don't spend too much time in here" you could noticed he was really paying attention to you, he stopped eating everytime you talked.

"Can I know what are you studying?" You didn't know if he was really interested or if he was just being nice, but you were so happy now that you could spend some time talking with someone.

"I want to major in audio visuals, my parents weren't happy when I told them what I was going to study, they wanted me to be a lawyer or a doctor, but I didn't listen to them, is that a bad thing?" You asked him, you barely knew him and you were already asking him for advice, considering you didn't have close friends maybe you really needed a therapist to talk this things after all.

"I think you did the right thing, it's your life, you should do things that makes you happy" he made emphasis in the you part. "And you will learn from the decisions you make, not from other's" wise words.

"What about you? Are you happy with the life you have right now?" Both of you had already finished eating, so you were ready to listen to him closely.

"I am, I'm not happy everyday but I'm happy with my life so I can't complain, I just sometimes wish I could do things that are normal for most of the people" you completely understood his point, and you felt sad for him, everyone deserved that kind of freedom and you can see he couldn't have it.

"You know, when I saw you preparing the ramen I really wanted to talk to you because that's what I do with most of the people who comes here, but I was afraid you might think I only approached you because you were famous or something like that. So I just want you to know that even though I know your name or your face, it doesn't mean I know who you are, and for me you are just like everyone else, I won't treat you any different just because you are famous, I won't go and tell everyone that you were here or anything like that, I also know I can't take you to do all the things you'd like to do, but one thing I can offer you is an honest friendship, I bet Jungkook from bts is great, but if I'm honest I don't really care about him, I care about the real you and I'd love to get to know you more, I met you just a moment ago but I can see you are a really good person" everything you said was the truth, and he had to know that there was someone out there who cared about him. That's how you were, you cared about others.

"It's the first time someone tells me something like that, I really appreciate it" you would love to say that his words surprise you but they don't, and that's sad.

"I think I should go back to work right now" he nodded. "Oh and you don't have to pay, I invite" and with that you went back to the counter.

He stayed on the chair for a few more seconds doing something but you didn't know what because you could only see his back from there.

He got up later and made his way to the door. "Thank you for make me some company, see you soon" you didn't have time to say goodbye to him because he had already left. Have you done something wrong? You asked yourself.

Time passed and it was time to go back home, your coworker came in time so by 6am you were already out of the store, you didn't start walking though, you couldn't believe who was in front of you.

"Jungkook? What are you doing here?" Was he waiting for you?

"You said it was scary going back home alone, so from now on, you won't be alone anymore" it seems that you actually didn't do anything wrong after all. "I left a note on the table we shared" oh shit, you didn't see it.

"I didn't see it, sorry" you were about to go and look for it but he stopped you.

"It's okay, don't worry. It just said that I'd love to have you as a friend, and since you invite the ramen I hope you can accept my invitation to drink something some day" he seemed shy now, maybe that's why he didn't tell you this in person.

"Yeah, we can definitely go to drink something together, and as friends now" you smiled at him as he bite his lip cutely.

"Should I take you home now? You must be tired"

Yes you definitely were.

"Let's go" you said as you both started to walk next and close to each other.

There was no way you would forget this night.

♡

I hope you enjoyed reading this one

A like or reblog is always appreciated :)

[neocatharsis]

NCT 127 Reveal The Hobbies & Obsessions They Can’t Give Up In Their Down Time

In Elite Daily’s series Rent-Free, celebrities unpack the one thought, memory, or unforgettable pop culture moment that'll always live in their head. In this piece, NCT 127 reveals the interests and hobbies even die-hard fans will be surprised to learn about.

In the past year, most musical acts had to cancel their highly-anticipated tours due to the coronavirus pandemic, and NCT 127 was no exception. That’s why its members — Johnny, Haechan, Mark, Taeyong, Jaehyun, Yuta, Taeil, Jungwoo, and Doyoung — have taken every opportunity to get closer to their fans with new music. After dropping their second Japanese EP, Loveholic, in February, the group returned on June 4 with “Save,” their latest single all about making unforgettable memories. Up next? An entirely new era. On July 7 (the group’s fifth anniversary), they announced their next album is coming in September. In celebration of all the exciting things ahead, NCT 127 opened up about how they wind down after a hard day’s work.

NCT 127 tells Elite Daily these past five years as a group have been worthwhile, and it’s all thanks to their fans, called NCTzens, who have supported them throughout their journey. “[We have so many] memories from practicing together pre-debut to our actual debut stage, and also all those times we spent working on our music and performance to meet our fans at our first concert and first world tour as well,” the group collectively says. “Each and every moment we spend on our music is for our fans, and we are working hard to better show ourselves in various different ways, so we hope you’re all excited!”

Fans have impacted the group so much that they’ve become the muse behind NCT 127’s biggest tracks. “The inspiration [behind ‘Save’] comes from wanting to save our precious memories with each other and with our fans,” the group says. And NCT 127 hasn’t let go of a single one. While they haven’t been able to perform in front of a live audience since early 2020, they held their online Beyond The Origin concert in May. They add, “It was new getting to meet fans from every part of the world at the same time.”

While the guys have their hands full recording their next project, they’re making sure to get some much-deserved R&R whenever they can. Below, NCT 127 reveal the interests that have been living in their minds rent-free.

Johnny

Johnny is a major fan of horror movies. “I love how they keep you on the edge of your seat the whole time you’re watching,” he says. His favorite scary movie of all time is Shutter, which is about a couple who accidentally run over a woman and then see her ghost in photographs they develop. “Even though I watched it when I was young, I still remember the movie, and it’s one I think about often. I’ve seen the movie multiple times since I first saw it in high school, and I recall being scared of red-lit rooms for quite some time afterward,” he says.

His most recent watch was The Conjuring franchise. He adds, “After I saw the movies, I looked up some articles about the behind stories. They were pretty interesting!”

Taeil

Taeil keeps music on his mind even after a full day of rehearsals. “Audio speakers really amplify music so you can hear the intricate details of the track, and there’s also that sense of excitement from when you hear a sound you like!” Taeil says, explaining his love for audio. “I like the speaker brand Focal. There’s still a lot I don’t know about speakers, but I find the brand very attractive since you can experience a flat sound that’s similar to what the songwriter intended to create.”

Taeil says the group’s sound has changed a lot since their debut in 2016. He says, “With time, our team color is definitely becoming more distinct and defined. I think the sound we have now is a very captivating one with strong hip-hop and R&B colors.”

Taeyong

The group’s leader enjoys connecting with others, but especially with NCTzens. “[Our relationship] is a very precious and one that I’m truly grateful for. Not only do we enjoy the same things, but we also try to improve and show that to each other. All of this is very special and meaningful to me,” he says. “It’s nice to learn of each other’s culture, and by singing in different languages, it makes me feel as if I’ve grown closer to our fans from those countries.”

Yuta

Yuta loves exercising because it’s very rewarding, and although he doesn’t have a specific fitness routine, he prefers working out at a gym rather than at home. “I like how exercising makes me feel stronger and helps me to build up my strength... which is very helpful when practicing group dances that require attention to body angles,” he says. “We had a short preparation period [to learn ‘Save’], but I was able to learn the choreography quickly and had a fun time preparing.”

Doyoung

Ever since he was cast as Axel von Fergen in the Korean adaptation of Marie Antoinette, which is based on the 2006 musical of the same name that originally premiered in Japan, Doyoung has found a newfound appreciation for theatre. “I find it very precious how you can share emotions through singing and acting,” he says. “It’s been very meaningful preparing for my musical debut, and it’s really all thanks to the amazing seniors and producers! The process in itself has been a very fun one, and I have been preparing with a heart of gratitude.”

Doyoung is set to make his musical debut on July 13 when the production opens at the Charlotte Theater in Seoul.

Jaehyun

Jaehyun says he “fell in love” with tennis in April because it helps relieve stress. “I’ve always enjoyed trying out new sports like basketball, bowling, and boxing whenever I had the chance. But I actually started tennis because my father recommended it,” he says. “I know this is the case for all sports, but tennis isn’t something you can master after a few tries. It requires persistence, and I started to enjoy it even more as I saw myself gradually improving.”

Jaehyun’s favorite tennis player is Jannik Sinner, a 19-year-old Italian athlete who competed in the 2020 French Open as the youngest quarterfinalist in the men’s singles event. He says, “I’d really like to go see a tournament.”

Mark

Lately, Mark is interested in taking better care of his hair. “It’s really important to me because I change my hair color a lot, and because I want my hair and scalp to be healthy,” he says. While he’s experimented with just about every color in the rainbow, there’s one he always loves going back to. He adds, “I think I liked my blue hair the most. It is my favorite color, after all, and I believe my fans liked it as much as I did. I was glad to be able to film the ‘Save’ music video during my blue-haired period. It fit well with all the scenes and the aesthetics!”

Jungwoo

Similar to Yuta, Jungwoo has also had exercising on his mind. “My life has become more lively since I started exercising. More so than exercising to improve my physique, I exercise in order to have a healthier, richer life. Also, it makes me proud knowing I’m spending my day more productively,” he says. “The first thing I do after I wake up is to start off the day with simple stretches that improve body balance... Stretching helps to warm up the body, which reduces the risk of injury, and can also boost your mood! I think this is why when I dance, I’m able to express those movements in more detail.”

Haechan

Haechan is now experimenting with all things fragrance. “I started using perfume since scents can give a sense of self-satisfaction and because I wanted to smell good all the time!” he says, adding he doesn’t have a favorite perfume. “The scent that suits me well, that I personally like, and that will suit me is always different!” However, there’s one scent that will always remind him of a certain memory with NCT 127. “This might sound funny, but I’d have to say the smell of sweat in our practice rooms,” Haechan says, adding it’s “satisfying” because it makes him feel like they worked hard after a long day. As for what draws fans to NCT 127, Haechan credits their “sincere music and performances.”

© Elite Daily

[cherrynojutsu]

Title: Like Gold

Summary: Sasuke grapples with love and intimacy regarding his developing relationship with Sakura after returning to the village from his journey of redemption. Kind of a character study on Sasuke handling an intimate relationship after dealing with PTSD and survivor’s guilt in solitude for so long. Blank period, canon-compliant, Sasuke-centric, lots of fluff and pining, slowly becomes a smut fest with feelings.

Disclaimer: I did not write Naruto. This is a fan-made piece solely created for entertainment purposes.

Rating: M (eventual nsfw-ness)

AO3 Link - FF.net Link - includes ending author's notes

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Chapter 8/?: Grasping

Sasuke awakens abruptly, nausea clawing its way out of his throat like a soup of sepsis that’s been left percolating on a stovetop for too long, finally boiling over and soiling everything.

Stomach churning, he tries to aim it at the floor - he’s gotten better at doing that, over the years - but he doesn’t quite succeed. Hot bile, acidic with mostly digested dinner, coats the side of his bedding and part of his sleeve.

He coughs, gagging on acid and torment and hyperventilation. Then his stomach lurches again, and he turns to retch another round at the floor. Part of it floods his nostrils, stinging, and he rasps more.

That triggers another round, after which he waits a minute, sharp coughs punctuating the stillness, familiar at this point with what his stomach’s settling feels like. He shrugs off his shirt once it does, and makes his way to the kitchen, hacking on a foul aftertaste and vomit-inducing visuals flashing before his eyes.

A glance at the clock tells him it’s half past midnight as he gulps water, snorting in a manner very undignified to clear out his nasal passages and soothe the putrid taste overwhelming his insides. Then he chokes more of it down, feeling the beginnings of a pounding headache.

There are times when having a near photographic memory is not a good thing. He is very tired of recalling crackling electricity, of stumbling over body after body with lifeless eyes. Men, women, children, all with charcoal irises like his.

And teammates, with irises decidedly not like his, luster flattened to single dull colors.

And himself, at the end, deranged and dispiteous, standing where Itachi had stood a long time ago, looming over remains as if he himself is the final obstacle to defeat before it just ends, the culminating villain in some fucked up fable. All at once, he’s a child again, gagging on a demented form of truth, left to stew there for years and years and years, rotting him from the inside out.

He's noxious. He knows he is. He wishes he could spit himself out along with partially digested yakitori.

Sasuke takes another sip of water as his vision blurs, trying desperately to focus on the wood grain of the cabinets and not daring to close his eyes, lest another flash snake its way into his ocularity and undo the mild soothing the water is providing. He coughs again, throat raw. Then his mouth starts watering, a telltale sign that he’s going to throw up again, so he walks carefully to the bathroom, bottle in hand and trying not to jostle his stomach more than is necessary. Switching on the light and flipping up the seat of the toilet, he makes it just in time.

This round it’s mostly just water, and it burns a little less. The murky brown color he’s faced with seems very reflective of what he feels inside, ignominy and wretchedness and self-loathing, no substance at all, just a bitter aftertaste of that which was left behind on a wood floor a lifetime ago. There had been saliva then, too, seeping from his mouth to the floor in his cowardice.

He swallows once, a gargantuan effort. Then he takes another sip of water, studying the text on the label to try to distract himself, vile and unsettled as he is.

He doesn’t deserve Sakura, not after what he’s done. When his vision starts to blur again, he can’t read anymore anyway, so he looks at the mangled mess left of his left arm instead.

He deserves that, a maiming to fit the crime. He wishes he were a better man.

Slowly so as not to further disturb his stomach, he lies down sideways, pressing his cheek to the coolness of the floor. He feels disconnected from everything, at a loss for proper coherent thought, a mess of misery sprawled on a tile too clean for his own rancidness.

Nothing matters for a long time. He just stares into nothingness, a mild burning in his throat and eyes on a void of pure white that he doesn’t belong in, thinking about how it matches the skin tone of bodies that have been drained of all their color. It’s like he’s barely there, nothing seeming real except the hollow feeling in his chest and the buzzing sensation tempering the edge of his consciousness, like his brain has been stuffed with cotton but parts of it are burning away to nothing. Everything of substance singes away in a controlled burn, destined to always have gaping holes of meaning scorched away at random wherever the fire takes hold.

He doesn't know if there ever even was anything in the first place, deep down. Maybe corrosion is a terrible metaphor, because what's left, at the end of it? Layers and layers of useless shale and sandstone and limestone, packed atop Precambrian filth that’s been decaying there for what feels like centuries. Or magma, set to burn anything he touches.

Or electrocute it.

XXX

Suddenly it’s hours later, and a bird is chirping outside, twitters resounding through a metaphysical tunnel of distortion. Gradually it shifts into an audio that doesn’t sound quite as echoed, accentuated by light filtering in through the miniscule bathroom window.

This happens, sometimes, the nightmares and the absconding into abeyance where his brain seems to shut off, a resulting loss of significant chunks of time. Not sleeping, just staring at something dully for a while, stuck on the same cycle of repeating thought. The memorial stone is a trigger for it, he thinks. It’s why he dreaded going there, upon his return, although it's complicated. Occasionally, visiting it seems to bring feelings that are almost positive, where it feels like he’s reaching out to reclaim tiny shattered shards of what used to be his heart. Mostly, though, it’s just mourning. The reading of names may be what compels the worst of them; sometimes he thinks if he looks too long, he’ll learn things he doesn’t want to know.

Exhausted, he drags himself to his feet and begins wryly picking up the pieces, chest hurting from heaving. He throws his bedding and his shirt haphazardly into the washing machine, drowning them in soap before he grabs cleaner to do the same to his floors.

It smells disgusting, like it’s been petrifying in his stomach for years. He supposes that makes sense; a lot of things have.

Once the surface is clean, he gets in the shower, not caring that all of the hot water is being used for the laundry; the icy cold helps wake him up. He’s fatigued, lethargic, but he knows better than to try to go back to sleep at this point.

As he fights shivers in the towel afterwards, he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He looks awful. Pale and sickly, repulsive, purple sallow staining his skin the same color as the Rinnegan. His normal eye is bloodshot, vacant charcoal that pollutes everything it touches. He lets the black of his hair shift over his Rinnegan eye in a manner he's well accustomed to by now.

His remaining eye inches to the corner of the mirror, the front of the medicine cabinet.

He carefully procures a cough drop, and then makes sencha tea, hoping the caffeine will dull his headache. There’s a part of him that still feels like he’s hardly there, like he’s a ghost just going through the motions. When he takes a sip, it feels good on the throat, but the vomiting earlier has partially singed away the surface of his tongue; he hardly tastes it.

Sasuke then takes the photo from when they were Genin to the living room, grasping onto it for dear life in more ways than one. He alternates between studying it and gazing out the glass, to the cherry blossom tree across the street.

An hour passes, slowly, sitting there thinking about what he does and doesn’t deserve, a mess of thoughts swirling down the drain of his mind. Then another. The luminescence of the day begins trickling in more, green buds across the street gaining back their pigment.

He’s not sure if he should even go to Sakura’s still, because he feels like he’s going to make even worse company today than he usually does, as tired as he is. But he’s weak, and he selfishly wants her; there’s an equanimity only she can provide, the swingback of a pendulum briefly through a sense of normalcy, and he needs the chance to look into jade eyes, to see the light hit them, to ascertain that the chatoyancy has not been dulled. And she’s not dead, despite his inner psyche screaming at him that she would be, had Naruto or Kakashi arrived just a second later. He needs to thank them for that, when he gets the chance, though the timing has never felt right to bring it up.

And he loves her. He's not sure if his love is worth anything, contemptible as he is, but it’s the main reason he can make sense out of the absolute mess that is his inner thought process this morning. So he goes.

XXX

It helps. He’s enormously exhausted, and the light of day hurts his eyes, even once he’s inside and is only absorbing its rays from the diamond window, but it helps.

“Sasuke-kun,” she greets in a voice like honey as she opens her door to him, dimple on open display. She really is so lovely, multi-faceted jade sparking with life that nearly instantly calms some of his anxiety.

He is briefly concerned about what he looks like to her, today. He checked prior to coming over here, brushing his teeth thrice in the hopes that his breath wouldn’t be bad, that he could drench his innards in enough clarifying mint to be even remotely deserving of a small amount of her affection. His eye was a little less bloodshot at that point, but overall he still looked like hell, sickly and pallid.

“Sakura,” he murmurs in response, voice hoarse from being put through a ringer of his own making.

There is a prolonged moment in which she examines him, wearing an analytical expression that reminds him of clinician Sakura. Then the spell is broken, as if she’s forcibly turned that part of herself off, and she’s stepping aside and telling him softly, “Come in! I made onigirazu.”

He steps inside her entryway, setting his book on the console table momentarily beside where Hazel Wood lies, ready to be returned. He then shifts out of her way so he can remove his shoes. He’s not particularly hungry, but he’s glad it’s something fairly simple and heavy on the rice; he should be able to eat it fine.

He follows her inside, appreciating the subdued luminosity of her lamps along the way. The blankets are already laid out on the couch, a promise of simple warmth and companionship that he is very much looking forward to.

As his eye adjusts and he enters the kitchen, ready to grab a plate, his gaze locks on remnants of sliced tomatoes atop a cutting board he recognizes, though it’s familiar to him from his own apartment, not hers.

It’s exactly the same design as the one Naruto gifted him.

A fire roars to life in his ribcage as he freezes for a split second, an exhausted icy hot appreciation. It’s an implication that means the world to him, and particularly well timed.

She wants him around, to help prepare future meals.

“I put some sliced tomatoes in yours. I hope it’s okay,” Sakura says as she hands him a plate, not addressing the elephant in the room at all, as if she just needed a new cutting board and happened to pick up that one, though he knows that cannot possibly be the case; he'd seen at least two in her cupboard, before. “Would you like tea, or maybe some water?”

He nods stiffly, vision a bit blurry, then comprehends the second question.

“Water is fine,” he manages thickly.

They sit in front of her window, supple sunshine streaming in. It’s not too bright here, angled just right.

“...How was your morning?” He asks after taking a sip of water, voice still gravelly. He is beyond content to be sitting here, just looking at her, so much better than a picture.

“Good. Ino and I walk or jog in the early morning on Sundays, if it's nice. Hinata comes sometimes; she did today.” She chews a bite of her rice sandwich.

Sasuke blinks; she hasn’t mentioned that yet. Another chunk of her schedule falls into place. “...Where?”

A half smile blooms on her lips, dimple pushed into being. “Sometimes we run laps around the village, but usually there's no real destination; we just walk and visit.” She takes a sip of her own water. “It’s nice when Hinata comes; it tones Ino down a notch.”

He would snort, if he was in a different sort of mood.

“We went to the southeast part of town today,” she continues. “Ino wanted to see a new building they put up. Her mom has a big order of flowers to deliver there later this week.”

Flowers. In the chaos of the night he’s had, lily bulbs fell to the wayside of his mind.

Sasuke carefully takes the first bite of his own food. It’s good, as he expected; a mixture of salmon, tomato, and salted rice, simple enough to hopefully help settle his stomach. He can kind of taste it.

He chews slowly, reverently, alternating between eating and taking small sips of water as she chatters animatedly. “The flower shop's orders are really taking off now. Ino’s usually busiest once May comes. Hopefully things stay peaceful, so she can stay in the village for the most part; her mom can always use the extra help.”

They wash and dry the dishes together, afterwards, a routine that is beginning to feel familiar. She still doesn’t say anything about the cutting board, but Sasuke greatly appreciates the way it feels in his hand when she gives it to him, weighty and with a designated home under her roof. It slides into place easily in the cupboard with the two others.

They read for a while on her couch again, wrapped in their respective blankets; Sakura keeps her apartment fairly cool. It’s cozy in a way that makes his head feel funny, like he could fall asleep in minutes if he really tried, lulled by the soothing scent of berry and cleanliness. He wonders if it would be restful, if he did. Usually once enough time ellipses, well into the next day, his brain cuts him some slack, though it could be that he's just too exhausted from being up most of the night for the neurons to fire up again to such a frenzy.

Sasuke finishes the last chapter of his book sluggishly and contemplates the ending, a lengthy description of the fisherman gripping the solid railings of the dock with both hands as he comes ashore for the first time in months.

When he flicks his gaze to Sakura tiredly, she’s a third of the way through a new book, titled Among the Ruins: Post-War Reflections. It appears to be a memoir; he assumes it must be one she’s purchased, as it doesn’t have the library label. Perhaps it’s new, picked up this morning while she was out, or it could be one from her bookshelves. He would like to peruse the titles she has, sometime. He drowsily wonders which war it’s about.

He takes a careful breath and just revels in it, being here with her, mere feet away with his eyes closed but able to sense her presence, worn out with thoughts that have edges as frayed as he is. He would like to stay for dinner, too. He thinks it’s perhaps becoming implied that they’ll eat together if she doesn’t have other plans, but he doesn’t want to be rude or overstay his welcome.

Sasuke hopes he can stay awake. Maybe he shouldn’t have said no to tea earlier; the additional caffeine might have helped. He could offer to make them both some, he thinks fuzzily, but then he starts wondering if that would be odd or overstepping. It’s her tea, and her kitchen, and her cups.

Then he sleepily remembers the cutting board.

“You can take a nap, you know,” Sakura murmurs kindly, soft words echoing a little in the stillness of her space. “If you’re tired. I don’t mind.”

He blinks his eyes open, vision adjusting as he realizes he nearly dozed off.

She’s smiling from the other end of the couch. “I can make dinner later, and wake you up when it’s ready. You should rest until then.” She pauses, then adds, “I can grab you a better pillow from my room, if you want.”

His brain catches up to his auditory processing, and then his ears warm.

Oh.

The offer is tempting, though he doesn’t want to be rude. If it were any other day, he would force himself to stay awake, to spend more time with her. But it’s not any other day, and he’s drained, enervated in a way that makes him want to give in. He should ask, to make sure it’s okay, but he’s pretty sure she wouldn’t offer if it wasn’t.

“...Here?”

A flush inks its way onto her cheeks as her expression turns thoughtful. “Yes. Or... you can use my bed, if you want.”

Sasuke forces his gaze away from hers, because his face feels extremely warm all of the sudden. “...I meant… here, at your apartment.”

“Oh.” Sakura laughs in a way that sounds nervous; he hears her fiddling with the book in her lap. “I, um… just meant whatever’s most comfortable.”

When he hesitantly looks back to her, she’s red, too.

“...What will you do?”

She gestures with her hand in a waving motion to indicate it's fine. “I can read, or do some laundry or work stuff. It’s no trouble. Really, Sasuke-kun.” Her blush deepens. "...I would like you to stay… And to have dinner later. If you’re free."

He swallows before slowly nodding his acquiesce, and then Sakura is up and heading to her bedroom in a blink of mismatched eyes. Muffled footsteps pad back moments later, a pillow with a lavender pillowcase clutched in her hands.

Her bedding must be a variant of violet, then, a pastel contrast to the black of his own. He is curious about the color of her bedroom walls all over again, but then she’s handing him the pillow, and he’s too tired to continue thinking.

“...Thank you.”

The smile she wears is so soft, treasured. “You’re welcome.”

He’s out within a few minutes of laying his head on the pillow, drowsing eyes barely catching the lamps flickering off one by one as she meanders around her space.

The pillow smells like her, too, cogent in its beckoning. He sleeps like a rock.

XXX

Sakura nudges him awake hours later, leaning forward to rest her upper body against the back of the couch. The scent of miso and roasted tomatoes drifts into his nostrils while lively jade peers down at him. The light coming from her window has dimmed quite a bit. It must be well into the evening; she let him sleep for a while.

“Dinner’s ready,” she murmurs softly, wearing an expression that is incredibly fond.

He stretches slightly as he rises from her sofa, working out a crick in his shoulder and thinking that he feels much more rested. Sasuke is about to head to her kitchen to get his own bowl, until Sakura turns towards the table, and he sees that she's already set out food for both of them, green market light switched on overhead.

There's onigiri, too, and a steaming cup of sencha placed on his side that he's sure is decaffeinated.

His side.

The realization, albeit a good one, disarms him.

He has a side of her table. And a side of her couch.

Sakura recites a story Hinata told her this morning as they eat, about how Naruto initially buried every single flower bulb in their garden beds six inches deep instead of reading the directions, so they had to dig everything up and salvage the instructions on the package from the trash to replant.

“He mixed them all together, too, instead of planting them in sections like a normal person.” She laughs, and his lips turn upwards in shared amusement. “She said she hopes they didn’t miss one. Iris and echinacea can sometimes multiply out of control. She was happy she didn’t add bee balm to the list, too, or they’d really be in trouble; those can grow anywhere, even in gravel.”

The soup and tea feel good on his throat, and the rice is filling in a way that would be difficult to throw up, absorbent of moisture and chunking together to expand in his stomach until he is full, in more ways than one.

He can taste again, the richness of tomato and miso and calming ubiquitous green on his tongue and in his heart, thoughts of flowers and their idiot teammate helping to cast aside his earlier melancholy.

Sasuke loves her so much in that moment that it physically aches, her voice a balm that puts the rawest parts of him at ease.

"Thank you," he says quietly at the conclusion of the meal, grateful in ways he's not sure he'll ever be able to put into words.

Her response is simple, gentle, pure. “You’re welcome.”

As they wash and dry the dishes together in the dim light of her kitchen, Sakura tells him softly, “I put leftovers in containers for you in the fridge. Please take them with you tonight.”

He nods as his eyes sting with appreciation. When he turns to put away the teacups, he blinks to clear them as she wipes down the sink one last time for the evening.

As she sorts through her movie selection afterwards - it’s her turn to pick - he asks, “How is the poison antidote coming?”

Sakura glances at him curiously for a second from where she’s perched on the wood floor, rifling through the lower cabinet. “I think we might have it solved. Blarina toxin from a southern short-tailed shrew, and then possibly lionfish toxin, laced with algal bloom cyanobacteria. The lionfish toxin is part of the trouble; it’s such a trace amount that it was hard to identify, not enough to cause swelling on the exterior body like you’d see if you were stung by one in person. We’re still running tests, but the neutralization seems to be working on the mice so far.” She blanches a little. “Or, rather, the mice we have left. It’s diminished our stocks; shrew venom is particularly deadly to them.”

Sasuke knew it was likely to kill several of them, but not quite to that extent. He’s interested in her work, so he asks, “How many?”

She turns back to sift through her cabinet as she answers, pulling out another movie to examine. “A gland-full of venom is potent enough to kill up to two hundred of them. It’s why it took us longer than usual; we had to give them the absolute tiniest dose in order to not kill them within hours. I guess it makes sense; they’re one of the things they eat in the wild. The dose in the poison sample was high, though, venom from multiple shrews. A single bite usually isn’t enough to do any harm to humans, but when it’s quadrupled in dosage and laced with other things, it’s more severe.”

“...What’s the treatment?”

Sakura rattles off the extremely complex answer as if it’s nothing. “An antihistamine, steroid, botulinum toxin, and an antibiotic. We’re also giving them blood transfusions and flushing out the blood as it comes to the exterior machine, to get rid of the cyanobacteria. Kind of like conventional water treatment… just more complicated. More steps, filtration, and obviously we can’t use chlorine, so it takes longer.”

Sasuke blinks somewhat in awe. She really is so intelligent.

“...That sounds lengthy.”

She shrugs, movie still in hand. “It is. It’s why we’re not one hundred percent sure if we’ve solved it yet; the lionfish venom is still the weak link, and will be until we can see that the other portions of the treatment have worked to isolate it.”

“...I’d like to learn the process.”

A smile plays at her lips and a flush inks its way onto her cheeks. He supposes it was a roundabout sort of compliment; he could have worded it better, but she seems to have understood him anyway. She does about a lot of things, he thinks.

“I can bring home a kit, sometime, and teach you the basics. It could be useful.”

He nods; he would like that.

There is a long pause as Sakura bites her lip before further examining the movie case in her hand.

Then, she asks, a tentative expression on her face and peeking at him to gauge his reaction, “Want to watch a bad one?”

Sasuke wonders if she knows he would watch any movie with her, if it means he gets to be in her company like this, saved from a room with white tiles or dark wood.

“...Sure.”

She wasn't exaggerating; it is truly terrible, riddled with plot holes so nonsensical that it’s almost funny. The acting is bad, too, though perhaps that’s more to blame on the script rather than the actors.

“Even the camera work is awful,” Sakura says at one point, gesturing towards the left side of the screen. “If you look in the background here, there’s an extra that just… walks into the wall.”

He watches, and sure enough, behind the main characters, a girl walks directly into a corner and just stands there.

He snorts, genuinely enthused in a manner he would not have thought possible hours ago. Sakura laughs at the other end of the couch. It’s a sound he could listen to forever, sweet and chiseled into his heart.

They play an extensive round of go afterwards, venturing well into the night with the plinking of small pieces into place. It’s nearly eleven when she finally walks him to her doorway, two containers of tomato miso soup and onigiri in her hands. As he pulls on his shoes, Sakura sets them by his library book on the console table.

“Would you want to read tomorrow afternoon?” She asks as he rises to his full height.

He nods. “...I’ll meet you here.”

Her dimple makes a reappearance. “One fifteen?”

He inclines his head again in agreement, then decides to ask. It’s becoming easier, now that she has said yes so many times.

“Dinner, after?”

Her smile widens. “Of course. I was thinking gyudon. Light on the sugar. You could…” She bites her lip and shifts a bit. “...You could help me cook, if you’d like.”

Something turns over in his belly. “...Okay.”

She glows at him. He swallows once before reaching out to skim her freckle, enjoying the feel of her cheek against the pad of his thumb.

And then her fingers against his fingers, holding him there against her cheek, soft and steady.

Then he leans down, and his lips are on hers, a breath exhaled in unison as her entryway falls away. Her free hand twists around his neck, delicately brushing the fabric and a fraction of his skin in a way that nearly makes him shiver. It’s a long moment of quietus, a finishing stroke to a day that could have gone very differently.

It is also the longest kiss they’ve shared yet, and it is over far too soon.

He’s pulling away to look at her, letting his hand drop away, when she wraps her arms tenderly around him.

He can hardly breathe, taken off guard by the absolute sensation of comfort he’s enveloped in.

She doesn’t say a thing; just hugs him tight, her fingertips spreading across his back and face pressed to his sternum. Berry invades his olfactory senses.

Slowly he lifts his arm to carefully return the hug, swallowing a tender sort of truth, a kind that goes down easy, the evidence and action of her affection. He can feel Sakura’s heartbeat against his chest, a tempo teeming with life.

They stand there together in her entryway for a long time.

XXX

He sleeps wrapped in a clean comforter, and though it’s not for very long, it is dreamless.

He’s eating leftover onigiri when he receives a mission summons, barely past seven in the morning. He finishes his meal and pops a cough drop in his mouth before departing for the Hokage’s office.

It’s a nice day, he thinks as he walks, coming to a decision as he admires vernal greenery lining the streets. The sun is just lifting over the horizon, painting everything pale amber.

“Sasuke,” Kakashi greets as he walks in; he’s the first one there again, apparently. “Good morning.”

“Kakashi.”

Their old sensei smiles at him in the strange all-seeing manner he has. Sasuke notes the presence of a new picture frame present on his desk, replacing the one he’s given him.

He is extremely grateful to have that picture to grip onto in his darker moments. Sasuke considers thanking him then, for Iron, but then Naruto is barreling in noisily.

“Whaizzit?” He yawns raucously, as if he just woke up, sleep still clinging to the corners of his eyes. They are multi-faceted, too, even in their barely aware state, and Sasuke inwardly breathes a sigh of relief, normalcy shifting fully back into place as the door clicks behind his teammate.

Then Naruto registers that Sasuke is present. “Eh? Teme?!” Cerulean scans the room as if he’s searching for something, then he frowns, directing a lengthy glare Kakashi’s way.

“If you've called me here at seven in the fucking morning for anything that isn’t a Team Seven reunion mission, I’m going to lose it.”

Ah. He was looking for Sakura.

“Afraid not,” Kakashi answers cryptically from his desk, and Naruto’s sleepy glare tightens. Then the Hokage smiles, as if something is incredibly amusing. "Guard duty. Kotetsu and Izumo deserve a break. Things are slow this week, and we have the extra numbers.”

The copy ninja skillfully dodges Naruto’s sandal as it flies towards him. “You’ve got to be kidding. You woke me up for this? You could have told me later in the day or something!!”

“Future Hokages don’t receive special treatment, and it’s professional to give more than twenty-four hours notice if possible.”

Naruto grumbles. "All week?"

Kakashi grins. "Tuesday through Friday."

Inwardly, Sasuke twitches.

"I should specify; nine to six, Tuesday through Friday."

Outwardly, Sasuke twitches.

It's not exactly her work schedule for all four days, but it lines up closely enough that it's fairly obvious what Kakashi’s doing.

Naruto barely reacts; just snorts in a way that is caustic, as if he finds the times unsurprising. "Cool. Can I go back to sleep until it’s time to kick teme’s ass now? Hinata-chan and I were cozy."

Sasuke rolls his eyes; when they spar in the mornings, it’s typically between eight and nine. He’ll have around an hour's extra sleep at best, though he supposes he’s not in any position to judge at this point, given his nap on Sakura’s couch yesterday.

Kakashi’s smile widens, mask wrinkling. "Sure. Dismissed."

They both watch on in faint amusement as Naruto stumbles sleepily out of his office, neglecting to collect his missing shoe.

“...Some things never change,” the Hokage murmurs, sighing.

“...No, they don’t.”

“Well, anyways, before you go…” Kakashi turns to him, tapping the pen at his desk absentmindedly. “How are things?”

Sasuke blinks, recalling leftovers and a new cutting board and the feeling of Sakura’s arms around him.

And kissing. Mostly kissing. Probably too much, if his neck’s sudden warmth is anything to go by.

“Good.”

A lone visible eye crinkles at the corners. “Great. Don’t hesitate to let any of us know if you need anything.”

He lets the words hang in the air for an extended few seconds before nodding slowly.

"I was thinking…” Kakashi continues, gaze flicking down to the photograph on his desk. “...Perhaps we could make Team Seven dinners a monthly thing. It would be good, don’t you think?"

“...Yeah.”

A dark eye locks on him again. "Sai could come, too."

Ah.

"...Sure." He really should make an effort to get to know him better. His replacement seems nice enough, peculiar as he is.

"Wonderful. Let's plan on the first Saturday of every month at six, shall we? If we're all in the village, that is. I’ll let him know when I call him in later this morning."

“Okay.”

A long moment passes, then Kakashi is procuring the shoe from the area behind his desk. Sasuke notes that he holds it as far away from him as his arm will allow.

“...I don’t suppose you’d return this, when you see him later?”

Sasuke says nothing.

“...Though I suppose I could assign it as a mission to some Genin.” Then he's sighing, setting it on the farthest edge of Naruto’s work area. “Too bad I just gave an assignment to my last two.”

Shooting him a withering look, Sasuke departs the Hokage’s Office. He gets the distinct feeling as he goes that Kakashi is incredibly pleased with himself, solidified by what he calls after him.

“Tell Sakura I say hi.”

Guard duty is easy in theory, but spending thirty six hours with the dobe may be… a challenge. He supposes if the reward is being able to see Sakura after she works most of those days, he'll take it. He's sure Kakashi won't keep him in the village forever; eventually duty will call him away for extended periods of time.

It solidifies his decision; he should take the opportunity of being here to plant something.

He stops by the market vendor on the northern end to buy two packages of lily bulbs on his way home. The market is fairly slow, so there are few other people around.

The packages feel good in his hand, lighter than he expected.

Sasuke works through a section of one of his other books before Naruto shows up on his doorstep, still appearing for all intents and purposes half asleep. Their spar ends in another draw; luckily there are no cracked bones this time.

He eats more leftovers for lunch after, appreciating the taste.

XXX

Sasuke feels at home in Sakura’s kitchen, cutting scallions easily while she broils beef and prepares the egg mixture for gyudon just a few steps away. The meal comes together quickly between the two of them, savory with a sauce that is heavier on the mirin and sake than the sugar.

Food they prepare together somehow tastes even better. It’s late when they finally sit down to eat dinner, gazing out through glass at the streets below as they take their first bites.

The sauce is perfect; not too sweet.

“...I have guard duty this week,” he mentions after a while.

“With who?” She asks, though her lips twitch upwards.

He rolls his eyes. “...Guess.”

She bites her lip, and he tears his gaze away from her mouth and up to her eyes. The green is filled with mirth, twinkling with illuminated flecks.

“Good luck,” she says sincerely. “What times?”

He glances away, ears warming and wondering if Kakashi has mentioned anything to her about them being… together.

“Tomorrow through Friday, nine to six.”

There is a long pause. When he peeks back at her, she’s blushing.

“...Kakashi-sensei is nosy.” Sakura takes another bite of her food, looking shy for some reason, and suddenly Sasuke is certain that their sensei has said something to her, perhaps on multiple occasions. He wonders what.

“...He is.” He thinks, then adds as an afterthought, “...He says hi.”

They do the dishes together and play two rounds of chess. Sakura wins once, and the second round is another stalemate, though he suspects he was close to beating her.

It’s close to nine by the time they’re putting the board away. As he works on packing up the last of the pieces to store in their allocated compartment, he notices she’s gazing out the window, scanning the sky as if distracted.

The way she’s angled puts the freckle on her cheek in plain view, pale hair loosely tucked behind her ear.

Then she turns to him, pink flooding her complexion, and Sasuke realizes he’s been staring, the remaining few pieces still clutched in his hand, frozen in midair in his distraction. He hastily finishes putting them away as his own face warms. Sakura rises from the table to put the box away, footsteps echoing softly through her living space.

He looks outside quizzically for a moment, embarrassedly trying to will the color away from his face and wondering what she was looking at. It’s a clear evening, calm without a cloud in sight.

"I was wondering if…"

His vision snaps to her expectantly across the room, and her cheeks flush darker; he can see it even though it’s dimly lit, shifting from one foot to the other. She seems nervous.

"If you would maybe want to… go stargazing for a bit tonight?"

His pulse quickens, pushing at the seams of chambers and ventricles in a way that makes it feel like the vines have twisted their way in, taking hold of whatever they can clutch.

She apparently does still like that sort of thing.

And she wants to go with him.

He nods immediately, struck speechless with elation before he manages to form the question, "...Where?"

Her expression is one of relief. "I was thinking just outside the village. There’s…” She looks away, smiles. “There’s a place Ino and I go to sometimes; we went today for a bit, after training. There are wild lilacs blooming right now.” She shifts her gaze to him again. “It's supposed to be a little cooler, but the sky’s clear. We could bring tea in a thermos; I have two."

Heat creeps up his neck as he agrees, heart stammering in his chest a little, because he’s started thinking about it now, and stargazing together is very clearly romantic in nature, amongst flowers even more so.

Sakura brews tea for the both of them as he distracts himself by slicing a lemon for hers. When he glances at her surreptitiously, she’s still blushing, and jade eyes snap away as if this time she’s the one that’s been caught staring. That makes his heart pound, to the extent that he’s glad she’s a few feet away, because it’s so loud that she might hear it.

They meander to the edge of the village as evenfall settles, into the forested area just beyond the gates. As Sasuke trails behind her, divagating through subtly flattened pathways between the trees, his thoughts wander to bygone seasons.

There once was a pond, three quarters of a mile outside of the village, beyond where the Uchiha District used to be. It wasn’t officially a part of their grounds, but it was remote enough that it wasn’t easily happened upon by anyone other than their family, off the beaten path and through thicket and thistle as it was.

Itachi used to take him fishing there.

He thinks they’d gone four or five times in all, but he remembers it well, because he had been terrible at fishing, not a shred of patience. His brother caught most of them, but he would sometimes set the hook before passing off the reel to Sasuke to help him learn. It was quiet, peaceful in the way that only the wilderness is, away from the pressures of expectations. Wildflowers poked up everywhere in the later summer months, situated on a hill towards the far side of the pond. They picked some together for their mother, once; Sasuke clutched them in his hands while they made the trek back to the village, Itachi carrying their bucket of perch and bass.

It was nice in the autumn, too, warm tones flooding everything. One could sit in the swaying overgrowth flush with falling leaves for hours taking it all in and still not see it all, an overwhelmingly pure sense of peace, made heartier by the taste of freshly grilled fish later in the evening.

The walk had seemed like it took forever back then, on short legs looking upward. He’s never returned to that place, not once, since he was eight. It would hurt too much, for different reasons now than when he was twelve.

He remembers passing wild lilacs then, too, on the way there and back. He supposes they probably thrive in the chaparral throughout Fire Country, if one cares to traipse through the foliage to look for them. He stumbled upon many on his journey, just passing through on roads less traveled.

The small clearing Sakura leads them to reminds him of the pond a little, wild and flush with fading hues, framed by fragrant lilacs in bloom as she said, but there are no memories tied to it yet, so it’s better. Huge bushes of them grow unaided here, wispy purple redolence scattered by the wind into the earth's cracks, ushered in by whispers through the trees.

The wilds are not so far from Konoha, really. Like the cherry blossom tree on the hill, it's a good reminder that some things can grow easily even on rougher terrain.

Sasuke sits rather close to her, so they can drink their tea together. The sun slips just below the horizon, a cloudless sky awash in a shifting gradient. He catches jade as he takes a drink, appreciating the taste, a small bit of warmth on a cool night.

The way she’s looking at him makes his heart rate accelerate again, a serene expression that implies there is nothing she would rather be doing right now than be here.

With him.

Eventually stars begin inking into existence overhead one by one, the last bit of sun lingering just on the horizon, a muted blur of violet bleeding into black. Things are slightly clearer here, beyond the boundaries of the village, no glass or light pollution to obscure the retinas.

Once she finishes her tea, Sakura lies down the same way she does on the hill, so he does, too, trying to calm his heart rate, because he is very close to her, just within reach. The forest breathes around them, coating everything in a lilac perfume.

He used to think about her, when he looked to the stars, feeling worlds away and wondering if she thought of him that day. Being next to her is better, revered, the calm din of an evening he has craved for a long time.

When he turns to steal a look, her eyes are already on him, and there is something about that moment, as the last light fades, being here with her, that makes his chest go aflame.

And then Sakura turns slightly, reaching out towards him with her right hand, and he blinks.

She sweeps his hair away from his Rinnegan eye, a thumb gently skimming his cheek as he has hers, before her hand falls away. Though they are cloaked in the gloaming of dusk’s darkness, enough he hopes to hide the warmth that has crept into his face, there is adequate light left to see her expression, so tender, jade eyes desaturated to dark sage.

He feels seen in a way that he hasn’t felt before, recalling soft words in an exam room.

Not me.

The sky is fully lit in short order, beautiful and dark with only a tiny sliver of the moon visible. It is truly lovely, Ursa Major, Leo, and Hydra scattered before them like a painting a million years old, ageless messengers traveling from who knows where, as he did. It took many steps to get here to her, scattered revolutions passing wide arcs around the sun, yearning for a day to close the gap, to feel like he was close to ready.

It was worth every single one.

A question is on the tip of his tongue, so he decides to ask it, to give in to the impulse.

“...Any poems?” He wants to learn the words she likes, what kinds of meaning she applies to things, intelligent as she is. Sasuke imagines the inner workings of Sakura’s mind to be quite complex, teeming with all of the things she’s read, research and fiction and nonfiction. He would like to know her favorite pieces of poetry, what she holds dear in her own heart.

She shifts slightly; he thinks she must be looking at him for a split second.

There is a lengthy silence punctuated by crickets before she finally answers, “A short one,” voice hushed like the breeze around them; if he wasn’t so close to her, he wouldn’t be able to hear.

He shifts his gaze to her on his right, barely able to make out her silhouette in the dark.

“Take notice of what light does - to everything.”

The words sink into him like rain on freshly tilled soil, triggering a bricolage of recollections. Instantly he is reminded of light through the window of his bathroom, stirring him from a pit of self doubt and guilt. Then light through the windows of Sakura’s apartment, cooking and doing the dishes together in her kitchen. A nap, comfortable on her couch as day fades into dusk, lamps switched off for a period of much needed rest. Flowers, grown by a doorstep with the sun’s rays seeping in through diamond patterning. The shadow of a jasmine plant, inked onto her cheekbone, and neon lights reflectant atop pale pink hair.

The intricate stitching of an uchiwa fan, thread catching iridescence as she holds it daintily in her hands as if it is something important, to be cherished.

Her eyes when she is happy, hints of gold flecks, catching like fractals of color atop shifting seafoam.

The way white nerine lilies looked drenched in sunlight, on days that are decidedly not summer monsoons.

Stars are a form of light, too, and despite being far away, they are refulgent in their luminosity, a beauty that cuts through murk and offers much for contemplation; the gaps of darkness between them are what allows people to make meaning out of them, constellations strewn together.

He is home, surrounded by spring. It is something to behold.

“...Did you write letters to Naruto?” Sakura asks after a lengthy period of reflection, so softly that her voice is almost a whisper.

The concept is so ridiculous to him that he would snort, if not for the moment they are sharing right now and the way she asked it, no hint of a joke in her tone.

So he answers seriously, just as quietly. “No.”

There is a long pause.

“...And Kakashi-sensei?”

Ah. He understands what she’s really asking. “...Other than missions, no.”

It’s hard to tell, but he thinks he sees her fingers grip in the grass next to her, gently as if in reflex.

Sasuke tries very hard to swallow his doubts.

When they were on missions as Genin, she used to lay sprawled out like this, hands spread next to her. So did Naruto. It bothered him then, because he liked his folded together on his stomach and he was very particular about personal space, which they both invaded.

Sasuke doesn’t have another hand to fold his with anymore, though, and he’s less concerned about personal space with her than he used to be. The darkness helps bolster his confidence, too, nyctophile that he is; she won’t see the heat that’s spreading to his face here, lit merely by distant flickering stars.

Take notice of what light does - to everything.

The luminaries above them offer only a little of it, yet it's a transfixing sight, something of the epochal and the divine present that he has been drawn to for years.

So he reaches out to skim her hand with his, a tentative sort of constellation in itself, recorded in points of contact and palm prints on the skin rather than etched in alembic light in the sky.

There are soft fingertips, a knuckle gently gliding by. Then she’s interlacing her fingers with his, and suddenly it’s not tentative at all. It’s leal, steady, her small hand in his as if it has always belonged there, the scent of flourishing blooms wafting around them and painting everything in his head lilac starlight.

Her thumb brushes his skin once, twice, thrice, achingly gentle.

He should have reached out sooner, but he supposes they’re young, still. There is a lot of time ahead of them. The stars will align eventually, slow in their revolutions around common centers of mass as he is in letting people in. She accepted his apology for being late already, fine fingertips clutching an uchiwa fan with a touch just as gentle as now.

If he can only hold her hand in the dark, maybe that’s enough for now, a single star he can reach. He hopes he'll reach the others eventually.

Hours pass with her hand in his, and he is a small bit closer in revolution by the time he walks her home.

Lilac and raspberry and starlight coalesce against his lips when they collide with hers, an allegorical perfume he could easily get drunk on. He skims the freckle again, tenderly osculant, and realizes that is the start of a constellation, too, a novitious star burning brighter every time he reaches out. Kissing makes three.

Her hands around his neck make four. This time he does shiver, but he doesn’t pull away.

Sakura’s lips are so soft.

XXX

He plants the lily bulbs shortly after they say good night, under the cover of the caliginous dark that shepherds in the dew of the morning, tiny drops of moisture beginning to collect on nearby blades of grass. The stars are still out, bright enough to be beautiful but dim enough so that he can’t read the names.

Sakura would help him if he asked, he knows, but he doesn’t think he’s quite ready for that yet. He settles for trying to make his touch as gentle yet sure as hers, an elegy of calloused fingers digging carefully through the dirt, grasping and placing lily bulbs one by one. There are four bulbs in total, so he plants two on each side, nine inches apart, allowing them to poke up through the soil slightly and frame the stone; he reread the instructions when he stopped by his apartment earlier. It’s a different brand of corrosion, manually digging up layers of dirt rather than hoping they slough off, but it’s progress, and it doesn't require digging too deep.

There has to be something beneath the layers of sediment, he thinks, to feel the way he does about her. He hopes that what he feels is enough, that his slow revolutions will be worthwhile for her, in the end.

I’m sure it will be lovely, when everything finally comes together.

Being in Konoha is not easy, after everything, but being with Sakura is.

When he’s lying in his own bed a short time later, he recalls the love in her fingertips against his. It lulls him to sleep.

[sequinsmile-x]

Riptide

Chapter 3 - The End 

Words: 7k

Rating: Mature. Major character death. Mentions of canon typical violence. 

Read over on ao3 via this link, or below the cut!

Please let me know what you think.

July 2026

Her mother convinces her to go for dinner. Emily had put her off for months, not wanting to try and hold herself together like she usually did in front of Elizabeth. The ex-ambassador may have been well into her 80s now, but she was still formidable. Aaron had always been good at being their go between. At stopping Emily from getting so riled up by her mother that she would react.

She knows he would want her to go, which is how she finds herself sitting opposite her mother in a restaurant, not making much conversation and pushing her food around her plate.

“The trial is next week isn’t it?” Elizabeth asks, making Emily freeze. “I read about it online.”

Emily looks up at her mother and puts down her fork, reaching for her glass of wine instead. “Yes, it’s next week.” She clears her throat. “The prosecutors seem to think they have a very solid case.”

“That’s good. I’m glad. He deserves to go away for the rest of his life.”

Emily nods in response. The idea of being in the room with the person who had taken Aaron from her was sitting on her chest, pressing down and making it hard to breathe. “I’ll be glad when it’s over.” She admits.

“You do know it’s not your fault, don’t you?”

Emily looks up at her, and her mother is looking at her firmly despite the kindness to her tone. She isn’t even sure where that has come from, why her mother seems to know exactly what she’s been thinking for so long. Aaron did always say they were more similar than Emily would care to admit.

Emily opens her mouth to answer but no words come out. So she shrugs, and the stern look on Elizabeth’s face sets harder.

“Emily. It was completely random. There was nothing you could have done.”

“He was there because of me.” She finally says, a hoarseness in her voice that had settled there months ago and just wouldn’t leave. “If I had just…he was there because of me.”

Her mother puts her hand over hers on the table. “He loved you. The way a mother always hopes their daughter will be loved. And he was a good man.” Elizabeth pauses, a crack in her own voice Emily wasn’t expecting. “He wouldn’t want you blaming yourself for this. There was nothing you could do, and it certainly wasn’t your fault. Ok?”

Emily looks at her mother, sees the certainty in her eyes and for the first time since she found out Aaron was dead she feels something unfurl in her chest. A small release of pressure that finally created some room in her lungs for a slightly deeper breath. She lets her mother’s fingers link with hers and she squeezes them, giving her a slight nod.

“Do you want me to come with you to the trial?”

Emily shakes her head, a smile on her face. “No, it's ok. Penelope is coming with me.” She looks at her mother for a second, and thinks that somehow Aaron was still managing to repair their relationship even though he wasn’t around anymore. “Thank you, Mother.”

“Anytime, Emily. I do love you, even if I haven’t always gone about it in the right way.”

“I love you too.” _________

Emily has lost count of the number of times she has been in a courtroom. Giving evidence in the cases they had solved, dealing with defence attorneys who belittle their work, tried to make them sound like they didn’t know what they were talking about.

This was different. She was sitting in the gallery, Penelope sat next to her, and there was nothing she could do here. She couldn’t influence the outcome. All she could do was listen as both sides recounted different versions of the same day, the same hour, that had changed her life forever.

She sees Jack and Jessica arrive. They sit in a row behind her, Jessica leans over the seat and gives her a tight hug. Jack sends her a smile, the unanswered texts she had sent him hanging between them in a way that felt stifling.

Emily sits there, day after day, listening to details of how Aaron, and the other victims, had died that day. Details she knew off by heart, things she would never allow herself to forget. Penelope sat by her the entire time, despite how affected she was by it - not able to cover her own emotions as crime scene photos were displayed for everyone to see. It had been her job for many years, and Penelope had seen worse, but this was her friend. Someone she had loved, and she struggled. Emily remained stoic, holding herself together as if she was fractured glass as she focused on the outcome she hoped they would get.

On the third day of the trial the prosecution shows the CCTV of what happened. Emily hadn’t been prepared to see it, to watch Aaron get shot by a man who didn’t even give him time to put his hands up. She jumps in her seat when it happens, despite there being no audio. Penelope grabs her hand between both of hers and squeezes tightly. Emily is grateful for it, using her friend as something to keep her present.

The jury is only adjourned for four hours before the verdict comes in. Emily feels like her chest cracks open when the guilty verdict is read out. She hears Penelope and Jessica cry, turns to see a look of relief on Jack’s face with tears running down his cheeks.

She keeps her own emotions back until she’s outside, telling Penelope she needs a moment. As soon as the fresh air hits her the tears come. Relief, devastation and just about everything else pouring out of her as she finds a bench outside the courthouse to sit on. She sits with her head in her hands and sobs. The sounds tearing out of her are completely unbidden, something she cannot control.

“Emily?”

She looks up to see Jack standing next to the bench, an unsure look on his face. She tries to wipe her tears away but they are immediately replaced. “Jack. Are you ok?”

He gives her a half smile and shrugs, and he looks so much like Aaron it breaks her heart even more. “Can I sit?” Emily nods and turns her body towards him as he sits next to her on the bench. “I...I wanted to apologise.”

Emily furrows her brows at him, wiping at her cheeks again. “What for?”

“For blaming you.” Jack says, looking at her sheepishly. “I always knew it wasn’t your fault, that the only person to blame was the guy who did it, but I was just so angry.”

“Jack.” She sighs, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It’s ok.”

“It isn’t.” He says, shaking his head at himself. “You love him too.”

Emily nods at that, her chin wobbling as she tries to stave off another round of tears. “Yeah, I do.”

They sit in silence for a couple of minutes before he clears his throat. “I was thinking, next time I’m in town we should go for dinner or something?”

She smiles at him, a genuine smile that feels foreign to her. “I’d like that.” _________

A naive part of her expected it to get better after that, that the trial being behind her and Jack speaking to her again would make her feel better. Some days were easier, the pain was still there, the gap she felt in her chest very present, but she could make it through. She could laugh at Tara’s jokes at work and not feel guilty. She could go for a drink with the team and feel like she was living again.

But then other days she’d wake up and it would feel fresh. Like she was right back at the beginning. She’d find something of his she hadn’t seen since before he died, and it would feel like any progress she made turned to dust.

Emily doesn’t go into their shared office often. It was, besides their bedroom, the place she felt him the most. She’s doing paperwork at the dining room table when her pen runs out, and she finds herself rooting through the drawers of his desk for another one, because she only had specific types of pens she liked to write in and she knows he liked them too. Her hand touches an envelope and she frowns as she pulls it out.

The envelope itself is unmarked, but there is a piece of paper in there that she can see his familiar scrawl on. She settles into his desk chair, curls into it like she used to curl into his lap, and she pulls the paper out. A quick scan of it tells her it’s the speech he intended to give at their wedding, and she feels her chest tighten as she reads his words. She tries to imagine his voice, to picture him saying it infront of their loved ones, a shy look on his face as he told everyone they cared about just how much he loved her.

I’ll keep this very brief, because Dave has already embarrassed me and my wife enough.

Anyone who knows Emily and I will say that this has been a long time coming, and not just because it took me three years to ask her to marry me. Since she first walked into my office, now her office, almost 20 years ago there were many times when it felt like we were heading towards something. Things kept getting in our way, and I gave up hope that we’d get the chance. Then I saw her almost 4 years ago and took a gamble. I called her.

She was so mad. She yelled at me - a lot. She cursed at me too, but I managed to get her to agree to go to dinner with me and we never looked back.

I have some thank yous I’d like to say on behalf of my wife and I. Firstly to my son Jack, for being the most patient 20 year old on the planet, and for pushing me to propose when I asked if you thought it was a good idea.

I’d like to thank Elizabeth for raising such an amazing woman, and for bringing the love of my life into this world.

To the BAU both new and old, I thank you for being family to both of us. For helping us through the tough times as well as helping us celebrate the good.

And finally, to my wife, Emily, thank you for being you. For loving me, and for making me feel that love every day.

Emily only realises she is crying when a tear falls onto the paper, blurring a word Aaron had written. She wipes her face quickly and puts the paper away into its envelope. She places it in her nightstand, a little piece of him that she can keep.

_________

JJ invites her around for dinner. It feels almost like a pity invite, and it falls on a day Emily could do without it. When she wakes that morning it’s a bad day, the pain of losing the man she loves as sharp as it was the day it happened. She considers cancelling, but JJ looks so worried when they are at work that day she realises she can’t.

So she forces herself to go, smiles tightly through dinner with Will and the boys. Will takes them to bed and leaves her and JJ to it, sensing that they need some time. They make small talk, both carefully avoiding the elephant in the room, the tension that had existed since Aaron had died.

“Have you thought about dating?” JJ asks, seemingly out of nowhere. “Nothing serious of course.” She adds when she sees the look on Emily’s face. “Just, you know. Put yourself out there. He wouldn’t want you to be alone.”

Emily knows JJ just wants her to be better, to allow herself to have happiness in her life again, so she takes a deep breath to calm herself before answering. “No, I haven’t thought about dating.”

“Em-”

“I tried...hooking up with some guy a few months ago and it was awful.” She averts her eyes from her friend, embarrassment flooding through her. She laughs wryly at herself. “We didn’t get any further than his hand up the back of my shirt and I froze. I walked away crying.”

“It will get better, Emily.”

“This is never going to get better JJ.” Emily says, her voice unwavering as she reminds herself there are children upstairs, that she shouldn’t shout. “There is no end to how I feel about this. He’s been gone almost a year, and some mornings when I wake up it still takes me a moment to remember. And for those few seconds I’m actually happy. Because he could just be downstairs making me my morning coffee. But he isn’t.”

JJ tries to grab her hand on the table but she pulls it away. “I’m sorry.”

“I can’t move on from this. I am doing my best to rebuild my fucking life around this mess. To be able to get up and live because I know he would have wanted that for me. Do you really think I don’t know that? How disappointed he would be if he was somewhere where he could see this?” Emily shakes her head at herself. “You have to let me deal with this in my own way, ok? Please. I am doing my best. And this might be as good as it ever gets.”

JJ nods, tears gathered in her own eyes. “Ok.” She wipes a tear from her face. “But please speak to us if you need to. We love you, and we care about you. We want to help you where we can.”

“Ok. I will.” Emily says, and for the first time since Aaron died, she means it. _________

She sits on the ground in front of his grave, she blows out a breath as she gently rearranges the other flowers there, emotions welling in her chest when she sees cards from the rest of the team. Emily places her own flowers down and puts her palm on the headstone, fingers tracing the granite that held his name in the way she used to trace his skin.

“Hi honey.” She says. “I can’t believe it's been a year.” Emily doesn’t try to stop the tears, knows it’s pointless. “I’d give anything to change what happened that day, I miss you so much. It’s not really getting any easier.”

She looks around the graveyard, feels the wind pick up some of her hair until she tucks it behind her eyes. “Jack and I are going for dinner later, it was his idea. You’d be proud of him. He was on the dean's list again.”

“I hope you’d be proud of me.” She sobs. “I know I haven’t really held it together, but I am trying so hard.” Emily wipes her face. “I don’t really know what I believe in, where I think you are or if there is anything after all of this. But if there is something, you wait for me ok? Because one year without you has been torture, I can’t imagine an eternity.”

She leans forward and presses her forehead against the headstone. “I love you.”

The wind catches in her hair again, and for a moment she lets herself believe it’s him saying it back. _________

December 2021

Six months later and they still haven’t found a house and it’s his fault. Aaron knows he is driving her crazy. Emily and Jack both told him as much every time he rejected a house for the tiniest reason. His son asked him what his problem was, taking Emily’s side easily as he often did.

He turns down the idea of a 3 bed in Arlington. It was admittedly a beautiful house, but it just didn’t feel right. Something about it that just didn’t seem like them. He turns his nose up at it, claiming he didn’t like the kitchen, and he sees her face fall as she sighs, sending an apologetic look to their increasingly haggard looking real estate agent.

Aaron can tell she is pissed at him as they settle into bed in his apartment that night, her back turned to him as she lays down, fury rolling off of her in waves.

“Em.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

He winces at the anger in her voice, the clipped tone rarely used on him these days “Sweetheart.”

She sits up, turning to look at him. Her eyes are swimming with tears and it feels like a physical ache in his chest to see her upset, especially when he’s sure it’s his fault. He reaches for her but she shakes him off. “Do you even want to live with me, Aaron?”

He frowns at that, confused by the question. He opens his mouth to speak, to reassure her, but she speaks again, cutting him off before he gets the chance.

“Because you asked me. You said you wanted to live together, and you keep finding things wrong with every place we look at. And I don’t know why.” She looks away from him, and he watches as she wipes her fingers over her cheeks, the tears she was failing to hide from him falling down her face. “All I can think is that you regret asking, and you don’t know how to tell me.”

“That’s not true, love.” He says, stopping her before she can spiral any further. “That’s not it.”

“Then what is it?” She asks, throwing her hands up in the air. “Because that place we saw today was fine, Aaron.”

“I don’t want somewhere that is just fine.” Aaron says, reaching out to put a hand on her sheet covered thigh, squeezing the muscle when she doesn’t shy away from his touch. “I want somewhere we love as much as we love each other.”

Emily’s frown falls away, her face softening as she listens. “You’re an idiot.” She smiles at him and reaches out to cup his cheek. “You’re my idiot.” She strokes a thumb over his cheekbone. “But an idiot nonetheless.”

Aaron drags her into his arms, wrapping her in his affection easily like he always did. “We’re going to live wherever it is forever, Em. It’s where we’re going to grow old together. I want it to be perfect.”

She kisses his neck and buries herself further into him. “It’s not the house that matters, Aaron. It’s us being there. Together. So please, for the sake of my fucking sanity, stop rejecting places over things we can fix.”

He laughs and nods, running his hand up and down her back. “Ok, sweetheart.”

They find a place two months later, and it’s perfect. Three beds, one for them, one for Jack and a spare for a shared office. A garden they can sit in on warm summer nights, and a porch swing they can cuddle up in under a blanket on chilly fall evenings. He can picture their life there. Her planting vegetables and him secretly replanting them correctly, and never telling her so he can see the joy radiate off of her face when they grow. The two of them growing old, playing with any children Jack might have in the future. It all flicks across his brain like a memory, like he’s watching a movie of everything that is to come. Something he knows they’ll have because they’ve fought through so much to get here.

They move in on their second anniversary, Emily insisting she drives them to their new home, not wanting a repeat of the car accident they were in the year before. Aaron mentions, again, that it wasn’t his fault and she smiles at him, kissing him as she takes the car keys from his hand.

As Aaron watches her help Jack carry his boxes into their new home, despite the fact he’s only months away from moving out for college, laughter coming from both of them he doesn’t think he’s ever been happier. _________

July 2022

He’s not sure what makes him think of it, what makes the idea nest in his brain. When it’s there, taking up every thought he has when he looks at her, he wonders what took him so long. Why they had been together over three years before he even thought about it.

The idea spills out of him one night when they are laid in bed. She is fresh back from a case, something about it haunting her, a look in her eyes he knows all too well. He doesn’t push her on it, knows she will tell him when she is ready, and he simply gathers her in his arms. Holding her close in a way he knows gives them both comfort. That's when it happens, when the words he’s been thinking for weeks are finally said out loud.

“Have you ever thought about getting married?” He asks into her hair, his hand running up and down her back.

She snuggles deeper into him, wraps herself tighter around him as if he was the only thing keeping her grounded. “That depends. Is it you I’m marrying in this scenario?”

Aaron smiles into the top of her head, she’s half asleep, her words blending together as her voice gets thicker. He knows he’s being unfair, he knows from all their time together that this is when all of her defences are down, when she’ll answer a question without hesitation. “Yes. Unless you have someone else in mind.”

The hand she has on his chest moves upwards, her fingers drifting under the neckline of the soft pyjama top he was wearing, her thumb lazily tracing over his collarbone. “You’ll do, I suppose.” She says, as if they aren’t curled around each other in their bed, in the house they bought together.

He kisses the top of her head and they lay in silence, and he thinks she’s fallen asleep until she speaks again. “You have to ask properly.” She slurs into his chest. “I’ll say yes, but don’t think I’m accepting this half assed attempt.”

“Ok, sweetheart.” He smiles, plans already forming in his head. “Go to sleep.”

He buys a ring the next day. _________

Two months later and they haven’t mentioned it since. He sometimes wonders if she even remembers the conversation, if she was too close to sleep to know what was being said. If some part of her thought it had been a dream. But then she’ll make a comment, mention something about a good wedding venue, or that she wouldn’t serve something as boring as grilled chicken at her wedding, and she has a glint in her eye that tells him she remembers and she’s waiting on him.

Aaron wants it to mean something. For the proposal to be something they can both remember fondly for the rest of their lives. He eventually decides to take her back to the restaurant he had taken her to when he first came back to DC, but he doesn’t want the crowd. Doesn’t want a restaurant full of people applauding as he struggles to get up off of his knees after she hopefully says yes. He knows she would want the sentiment, but not the spectacle. Both of them were private people at the very core of it, their relationship something precious to them both.

He offhandedly mentions it to Dave over a drink one night, eyes fixed on Emily as she laughs with Tara and JJ, a glass of wine each as they laugh at Spencer’s expense over something Aaron isn’t a part of. Within ten minutes he has a day the following week when he can have the restaurant to just the two of them, because of course Dave knows the owner and pulls in a favour.

Emily is immediately suspicious when he suddenly announces they are having dinner the following Wednesday. She narrows her eyes at him, but lets it slide, an adoring smile on her face.

He walks into the restaurant behind her, and watches as she stops. Recognition that they are the only ones there seeping in. Candles everywhere, Aaron briefly thinks he’s going to owe Dave a lifetime of cigars for this, and soft music playing in the background.

She turns and looks at him, eyes shimmering with tears he knows she will shed as soon as he speaks. “Aaron.”

“I had this whole speech planned.” He says, pulling the ring box out of his pocket. “But it all feels pointless now.” He steps towards her since she seems frozen on the spot. “I’d get down on one knee but I don’t think I would get back up again.”

Emily laughs at that. It’s shaky, choked up around tears that are already falling down her face.

“I just know I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life loving you.” He opens the box, revealing the white gold ring with a singular princess cut diamond. “Will you marry me?”

She closes the space between them, grabbing the lapels of his jacket and pulling her to him. She kisses him fiercely, holding him to her as he wraps his arms around her back, ring box still in hand. When they pull away, slightly breathless he rests his forehead against hers.

“Is that a yes?”

Emily laughs, her hands tightening on his jacket. “Of course it’s a yes.” She kisses him again but he only allows it to be brief before he takes the ring out of the box and slides it onto her finger. He rests his forehead against hers again and whispers that he loves her.

Their moment is brought to an end by a flash of a camera and a squeal. They break apart to see Penelope standing there, her phone in her hand and tears on her face. Aaron groans and presses a kiss to the side of Emily’s head. “Dave is here. He’s cooking for us. Apparently he brought Penelope along as tech support.”

Emily laughs and turns back to him and kisses him, her hands on either side of his face as she pours as much love as she can into it. She pulls away and walks over to Penelope, and is in a bone crushing hug before she knows what's happening.

Penelope sends them the photo. They get it printed and put it on their living room wall. _________

“We should just elope.” Emily says, as she looked around the ballroom of the Four Seasons in DC. “It’s either that or I’m committing matricide.” She grumbles, but melts into his side when he wraps an arm around her and kisses the side of her head. “Aaron, if this is the engagement party, imagine what the wedding will look like.”

Aaron had to admit, when they agreed to let Elizabeth throw an engagement party for them he hadn’t quite been anticipating this. There were flowers everywhere. Adoring the walls the tables set up. Champagne being poured by waiters like it was water, and canapes that Aaron would bet money on being more expensive than what he used to earn a month as Unit Chief.

It was extravagant, over the top in every way and very much not them. But Elizabeth had been so genuinely pleased for them, so delighted to see her daughter so happy that he had convinced Emily this was a good idea.

“Em, sweetheart, it's fine. We handled the guest list. There shouldn’t be any surprise senators or ex-presidents making an appearance.”

“That's what you think.” Emily mutters under her breath.

“Emily, Aaron.” Elizabeth says walking over. “What do you think?” She says looking around, a proud smile on her face.

“It's really something, Mother.” Emily says, a smile on her face that Aaron knew wasn’t real.

“I’m glad you like it.” She loops her arm through her daughters. “Now, I’m going to steal you away from Aaron for a moment and introduce you to an old friend of mine. He was a Senator of California for many years.”

Aaron can’t control his smirk when Emily looks back over her shoulder at him, a look on her face that screamed I told you so as she was dragged away. _________

“One month to go.” Aaron says into the top of her hair as she settles into bed. He gathers her into his arms, her back against his chest.

“Thank God.” She replies, lifting his hand to press a kiss to his knuckles. “I don’t know how much longer I can deal with my mother and Penelope and their plans. Whoever thought it was a good idea to put the two of them together is insane.”

He smothers a smile into her hair, chokes back the comment that it was her idea, knowing it wasn’t worth being right over. “Soon enough it will just be you and me, travelling Europe.”

“Then it’s the rest of our lives. I can’t wait to marry you.” She whispers into the darkness of their room.

He tightens his hold on her, pulls her closer to his chest. “I can’t wait to marry you either.”

A week later it all comes to an end. _________

October 2022

Aaron smiles when he sees her name appear on his phone screen. Her contact picture is of the two of them, a photo JJ had taken at the engagement party. He’s standing behind her, his chin resting on her shoulder and his arms around her waist. She has her hand over his arm, fingers gripping at his bicep. They are both laughing at whatever Dave was saying in this speech that he all but invited himself to make.

He answers the phone. “Hi sweetheart, what did the doctor say?”

Emily groans. “You were right, it’s a sinus infection.”

Aaron can’t help but smile slightly at just how miserable she sounded. Emily was a terrible sick person and had spent the last several days insisting she was ok, even though she clearly wasn’t. He’d eventually managed to trick her into going to the doctor by saying she was really doing it for him because he was so worried about her.

“Did they give you any meds?”

She sniffs and he can hear her car door slam in the background as she gets into it. “Yeah, some antibiotics. I’ve got a meeting I have to get back to but I’ll go to the pharmacy on the way home.”

“I’ll go get it, love. You just go to your meeting and come straight home.”

“Aaron, I can’t ask you to do that.”

He already has his car keys in his hand and he shakes his head despite the fact she can’t see him. “You’re not asking. I’m offering. Just get home as soon as you can and I’ll look after you.”

“You’re too good to me.”

“Well, I love you. And in three weeks you’ll be my wife. It’s kind of my job to look after you.”

“I love you too.” She says, and he can picture the smile on her face. “See you soon.”

“See you soon, sweetheart.” _________

He’s holding her prescription in his hand, and he’s about to walk out of CVS when he turns back. Emily always liked chocolate when she felt under the weather. An indulgence she always gladly took part in. Aaron walks to the chocolate aisle, picking up packets of peanut butter cups and caramel M&Ms when he hears it.

There is shouting at the front of the store, fear laced through some of the voices and fury in others. He hears a shout at the end of the aisle, and he turns. See a man with a gun at the end of it, his hands shaking.

He doesn’t even warn Aaron before he shoots. It feels like it happens in slow motion, like time slows down as the bullet leaves the barrel and flies towards him, but he can’t move. Can’t get out of the way.

As he lays on the floor, coldness seeping in as he loses blood and consciousness, he thinks of his son. Of how Jack will now be parentless, barely twenty and hardly any family left.

His last thought, as the darkness seeps in and he’s vaguely aware of sirens outside, is of Emily. Of how much he loves her, how he wished he could have given her the forever he had promised.

He thinks of her smile, and it’s the last thing he sees. _________

The knock on the door almost as soon as she gets home surprises her. She checks her watch as she wonders where Aaron is, knowing he should have made it home just before her. Her sinuses felt like they were about to burst and she wanted to get started on the antibiotics as soon as she could.

She opens the door to see who police officers stood on her porch. “Hi, we’re here to speak to Ms Emily Prentiss?”

Emily’s throat goes dry. “That’s me.” She makes no move to let them in. “How can I help?”

“I think it’s best we come in ma’am, and that you sit down.” The female officer says, a smile on her face that seemed fake.

Emily nods and lets them past her, closing the door behind them. She doesn’t sit, instead she crosses her arms across her chest and clears her throat. “What’s going on?”

“Ma’am-”

“Please.” She says, fear she doesn’t fully understand filling her chest. “Just tell me.”

The officers exchange a look before the male one looks back at her. “We believe Aaron Hotchner lives here?”

“Yes he does.” She stutters out. “He’s my fiance.”

“I’m sorry to inform you ma’am that he was killed earlier this evening in an attempted robbery of the CVS on Columbia Pike,”

It was news she’d delivered countless times. To victims' families, to the loved ones of team members she had failed to protect. Being on the other side of this made her entire body freeze, disbelief scratching up her spine. She looks at the two officers standing in her living room, sympathy she hated on both their faces.

“You’re wrong.” She choked out. “I only spoke to him just over an hour ago.”

“He did have his driving license with him.” The female officer says. “But we do need a formal identification.”

Emily nods, hearing the unasked question. They need her to go with them, to identify whether the man who died at their local pharmacy was the man she loved.

They were wrong, she knew it. _________

She calls JJ and immediately forgets what she has said when she hangs up, unsure why she’d called in the first place. Her friend agrees to meet her at the morgue, her assurances over the phone that everything would be ok.

Emily repeatedly tries to call him, to yell at him for scaring her like this. Her calls go straight through to voicemail. He never missed her calls. She tells herself he could have lost his phone, that he might already be back at their house wondering where on earth she had gone.

JJ walks over to her immediately when she arrives, trying to envelop her in a hug that she shrugs herself out of. Emily tries to call him again, presses Aaron’s number on her phone screen. It goes straight to voicemail.

“Emily?”

“They’re wrong.” She says, swallowing against the lump in her throat. The bitter taste of denial in her mouth. “They have to be wrong.”

“Em.”

“Right this way, Ms Prentiss.” A voice says, interrupting them. Emily and JJ turn to see a kind looking medical examiner looking at them. They are led into a small room, a body on a gurney covered by a sheet in the centre of it. Emily couldn’t take her eyes off of it, trying to ignore that it looked the perfect size for it to be Aaron.

The medical examiner pulls the sheet back and time slows down for Emily almost to a stop as she takes in Aaron’s face. He almost looks like he’s sleeping, a peaceful look on his face that she has admired countless times before when insomnia plagued her, but he looks so pale. Emily doesn’t make a noise, she just stares at his body.

“Ma’am.” The medical examiner says, her voice full of sympathy. “Can you provide a positive ID?”

Emily doesn’t say anything, she just takes a step towards him. Tries to blink away the image in front of her, everything in her brain screaming for her to wake up so she could be in bed next to him, this fading into just another nightmare he would help draw her out of.

“Ma’am?”

“It’s him.” JJ says from behind her, her own voice thick with tears. “It’s Aaron Hotchner.”

“I have some paperwork that needs filling out if you can come with me?”

“Em, is that ok with you?” JJ asks tentatively, eyeing her friend who hadn’t moved, or spoken. Her eyes still fixed on Aaron.

“Can I have some time alone?” Emily says, looking at JJ and the medical examiner. “Please.”

JJ places a hand on her arm, squeezing the muscle, as she walks past. “I’ll wait for you just outside ok?”

Emily doesn’t acknowledge her, doesn’t move until she hears the door click behind them. She raises her hand, only realising it was shaking when she moves it, and touches his cheek. The coldness of his skin shocks her.

She had never associated Aaron with the cold. He was always burning hot. The heat she sought out in the middle of the night, rolling towards him and his embrace when a chill in the air surrounded her. His touch had always burned her, taking her apart again and again until she’d laugh and ask him to stop, breathless between their sheets. His love warmed her from the inside out, making something bloom in her chest that she had never expected could happen for her, that all consuming love she thought was simply the stuff of books and terrible Lifetime movies.

He was so cold. She leans down and presses her forehead against his, tears finally coming now she can no longer avoid the truth.

He was gone.

She strokes his hair back and kisses his cold cheek, his lips. “I’m so sorry.” She says not recognising her own voice. “I love you so much.”

Emily makes no move to leave, not wanting to leave him alone. She’s not sure how much time has passed when JJ walks back in and tries to coax her out.

“Emily, we should get you home.”

She sniffs, not acknowledging her friend, and she feels a fresh wave of grief roll over her. Pulling her under in a way she cannot, and doesn’t want to, control. Their future, everything they had planned was gone. The wedding, the honeymoon around Europe he had talked her into, convincing her he needed to be shown around by her because she’d lived in so many parts of it. Their house, their plans to grow old there together.

Emily runs her hand through his hair again, tears blurring her sight until she can’t see him. “He was my home.”

As they leave, the medical examiner hands her a plastic bag full of Aaron’s things. It has his cellphone and his wallet in it.

All she can focus on is her bottle of pills, the white label stained with his blood. _________

His funeral is organised for a week before when they should have got married. She sits in the house they bought together as the wake happens around her, words of sympathy passing through the room like cold rain. Sending shivers throughout her body as she tries to reconcile the fact she will never see him again.

She sees her mother out of the corner of her eye and she leaves the living room quickly, unable to cope with Elizabeth on today of all days.

Emily goes upstairs and sneaks into the home office, the smell of him hitting her the moment she walks in.

For a moment, it gives her peace, then all too soon it’s gone. Washed away by the sound of the door opening behind her, someone seeking her out to provide comfort that won’t help, won’t ease the burden of grief and guilt that have already consumed her. _________

She remembers the first time he called her when he came back. Righteous anger flooding through her veins when he casually asked her how she was. The charming bastard made her forget why she was mad at him in the first place, years of silence forgotten in an instant as soon as he asked her to dinner. He had given her hope, something she hadn’t truly felt in a long time.

He had given her love. Stupid, beautiful, all consuming love that she had wanted to bask in for the rest of her life.

Despite the heartache, the pain. She knew she would do it all again. Go through every single moment from that first day she walked into his office all those years ago, to now. All the pain they had suffered together and apart, just so she could experience their little taste of eternity again. So she could tell him she loves him one more time, and that she always would. So she could remember the warmth of his skin, and replace the final memories she had of him when he was so cold.

It was worth it, the way she felt now, for the time they had. If grief was her penance for loving him, for being loved by him, she would gladly pay it for the rest of her life. _________

“Grief is the price we pay for love.” - Queen Elizabeth II _________

[hndcrm]

There is actually something that jumps in my mind. Do you remember that sauna/spa/whatever in Hokkaido? Well, what about 47 is ordered to use that place to relive some muscle tension. And what happens when it's discoverd that he can't relax without some (someones) help?

It’s still a few days before Yamazaki should be checking into Gama, and Soders cannot be killed yet, if not for the risk of resulting in increased security, then for 47’s own ego. Diana seems to enjoy it when he flaunts his skills, after all.

He’s spent the last two days wandering around the facility, following Diana’s floorplans, checking for side entrances and hidden corridors, exploring as much as possible without changing disguises; unconscious staff suddenly being found after his appearance at the hospital and before the contract’s completion would be less than ideal. With no electronic key hackers to be found, his exploration was limited to creeping into corridors after staff members and hiding in closets along his path.

He spent this morning reading up on patient case files Diana somehow managed to acquire on the balcony of his suite, the cool wind on his face. A VIP patient, Jason Portman could be a good disguise to get into the hospital quarters, coincidentally checking in on the same day as Yamazaki. Portman is planning on getting plastic surgery to liken himself to a certain German high fashion model - the opportunity almost too perfect, he considers there must be a catch.

He eats breakfast at the restaurant, orders natto and an onsen tamago with green tea. It’s filling enough, and he leaves to take a walk up the mountain path near the facility, looking for potential exfiltration points or good sniping locations. The path is winding, but neither narrow or steep, and it’s far more pleasant than he anticipated, with birds chanting nearby. He walks back down, committing important locations to memory, though he doesn’t plan on using them. Sniping missions aren’t as exciting, and he cannot put on a particularly elaborate performance for Diana, so what’s the point?

He returns to his suite, and finds a missed call from Diana. He scolds himself, he should’ve brought his burner phone with him, what if something’s happened? Anxiously, he calls her back, and she picks up immediately.

“Diana, you called?”

“I did.” Her voice is steady, it seems she’s not in danger. “How are you feeling, 47?”

Strange.

“I’m well,” he responds, trying to anticipate the direction of this conversation. It’s aimless, Diana feels utterly unpredictable most times.

“Have you had a chance to relax at the spa? I hear the sauna’s top of the range.”

“I have not.” He answers evenly. “I’m here to prepare for a contract, not on holiday.” She hums in amusement, continuing.

“I’m afraid there’s been a change of plans, 47. Yamazaki’s arrival is being delayed. Only by a day, thankfully, but it does mean you have some downtime. I’ve extended your reservation so that you’ll still have a reasonable window of opportunity to ensure the mission’s completion. Until then, well,” he hears that note of mischief in her voice, “I suggest you relax.”

He knows better than to question her instructions, but a day off is the last thing he needs right now. There’s nothing for him to do, and he knows he can’t really relax - he’d be only pretending to, because with a career like his it’s crucial to be constantly on the lookout.

“You know I can’t relax,” he retorts, hoping she’ll understand, give him something to do; he’d gladly do any bland paperwork over this.

“You deserve a break, 47.” She insists. “Most agents take weeks off between each contract, and yet I’ve been working you to death. This is an order - one day off, that’s it.”

“Fine.”

“And remember, you’re there as Mr Rieper, not 47. Think of what Tobias would do, play the part. I doubt he’d pass up the chance for a massage.”

She’s right. He can pretend to be someone else, easily, and it’ll make his cover more convincing. In a way, this is just setup for the mission, he tells himself, and that makes it more bearable.

“Oh, and, 47?”

“Yes?”

“Bring your earpiece.” She hangs up.

He walks towards his drawer and retrieves the small, clear gadget. Popping it into his ear, he checks himself out in the mirror, and leaves for the spa.

It’s fairly busy, there are people meditating and practicing yoga outside, with rows of white-robed patients sitting in the hot springs. Inside, people are sitting in the massage chairs, staff members attending to them with care. He walks past them, entering the corridor that he recalls leads to a toilet and the sauna. An interesting opportunity for the contrac, should it arise. He pushes the wooden door open, and then removes his robe, staying in his briefs. Immediately, the heat surrounds him, clings to every inch of his skin invasively, and he regrets this.

“In the mood for some heat, 47?” Diana teases through the earpiece, and he’s not sure what to respond. He’s not in the mood for any of this.

He sits down on the wooden bench, and the whole room is torrid and sultry. He takes a breath in, in hopes of relaxing, but his muscles are tense, and he’s not sure what to do.

He thinks of Tobias Rieper, of what he might do in this situation. He leans back onto the wooden walls, lets his arms droop more than usual, and decides he looks like someone who is relaxing. The focus on appearing relaxed, however, keeps him tense, and he thinks that there is no way that it’s this hard for other people.

“You seem tense, 47.” Says Diana, and his head immediately snaps up to look for cameras. Nothing. Her methods are incomprehensible. “Would you like me to help you relax?”

He knows the kinds of things she might have in mind. This conversation isn’t being sent for review to the ICA, and Diana has used that to her advantage before. He thinks about the things Diana says to him in safehouses when she calls him up late and he picks up only to hear the slick sounds of her touching herself, whispering in her heavy, breathy tone of what she wants him to do. He’d like to do all those things one day, if Diana ever let him. It’s unlikely, this job is stressful and he imagines this is probably her way of coping with it, nothing more, but on indulgent nights he imagines what life could be if her calls really did mean something more, and if Diana really wanted him like this.

Still, he could never turn her down, and he knows it’s the only way he could ever really relax, so the answer is obvious.

“Yes.” It comes out guttural, and he hears the hum she makes when she smiles. He wonders for a second if he’s misunderstood, if Diana will play some looped jungle sound audio and talk him through a guided meditation instead, but the sound of a zip being undone on the other side would suggest otherwise.

There’s a rustle of fabric, the snap of panties being pulled down, and then her breaths, coming heavy and anticipant.

“I want to hear you touch yourself, 47. Can you do that?” She asks, and he turns to look out of the door instinctively. “I’ve locked the door to the corridor remotely, you’re alone for as long as you need.”

Encouraged by the sounds of her pleasure, he reaches down for his cock and begins to stroke himself. She must know, because he hears her hum approvingly.

“That’s right, 47, just like that-” Her words are cut off by a particularly breathless moan, complimented by the continuous slipping of her fingers inside of her cunt, and it’s enough, he’s hard. He imagines what she might look like right now, slender legs up on her desk, heels ruffling the papers, her pencil skirt piled on the floor as she’s leaning into her desk chair, speaking such sultry obscenities through her headset. Every inch of him is dripping in sweat, he feels filthy, but continues, for an opportunity like this arises rarely, and he intends on stretching out every blissful millisecond.

He does wish this was being recorded for the ICA, so that he could intercept it and steal the recording for himself, have a reminder of Diana when she isn’t feeling this generous, for nights when he wants her so desperately that he contemplates initiating such a call himself.

“Tell me, what would you do if I was there with you?” She gasps out, and he’s too preoccupied by the heat and hormones and hunger for more to lie.

“I’d touch you,” he begins, his words punctuated with soft grunts, “I would kiss you, so much,” that’s what lovers do, after all. That’s the part he’s meant to be playing now, isn’t it? He hears her chuckle gently, and hopes it’s not at him. She doesn’t say anything, it’s all slick folds and breathy moans over the static, so he attempts to continue. There are many things he would like to do if she were here, but only if she would like him to. He’s worried about overstepping. Where does she draw the boundary? They’ll still have to work together after this, he’s never been the one detailing his fantasies over the phone, she was the expert.

“Is that all, 47?” She teases, and he loses his earlier confidence. “You’re this hard from the thought of just kissing me?”

“Yes,” he grunts out, and he can feel himself getting painfully close. She gets louder then, and he can hear her beginning to lose control, riding the waves of her orgasm endlessly. He imagines her hips bucking, her eyes shut tight and her lips parted, when he realises that she’s putting on a show for him, when he’s done nothing to deserve it. He comes then, hazy with the exquisite image of her carved into his head.

“You do seem far more relaxed now, 47. Perhaps I should do this more often?”