#it would be really neat if people were taking more precautions so it was a little safer for disabled people to use public transport without

[b-blushes]

obviously there's a billion other things but one thing that sucks about being sick/disabled is that most of the time i don't have enough energy to both get to and from somewhere, and also BE in the place. brain-wise and, like, life-fulfillment-wise, things would be way better if i could spend more time somewhere that isn't by myself in my house (although for much of the time this is the best environment to manage my various disabilities), but physical-ability-wise, often the travelling to and from a place takes all the 'spare' energy i have, so i can't actually *be* at the place without experiencing a level of various symptoms that negates the benefits of being there in the moment, or being so so ill when i get home, or the 'being at the place' leaving me unable to safely travel home in the first place. it sucks.

anyway i guess that the flipside of that is super strong appreciation for the instances that i *can* do things, the people that help me get places, and the people who're happy to meet outdoors and/or with precautions. it makes a huge difference to have some things to look forward to, even if i am greedy for more!

[jinjeriffic]

DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 2

Part 1

Damian glared at the envelope. He and Father were in the process of analysing the letter for any signs of toxins, explosives or other traps. Obviously he wasn’t fool enough to open a missive from a questionable source without taking precautions. So far, all their scans had come up empty. Literally. The letter was defying all their attempts at chemical or spectroscopic testing, x-ray and magnetic resonance scans were inconclusive, it defied all properties of ordinary matter. It was frustrating. It was vexing. He was blaming magic.

For all intents and purposes, the letter looked like ordinary paper, with an ordinary wax seal, bearing the initials CW. The looping handwriting addressing it to Damian was precise and neat. Swiping the surface of the letter for chemical traces yielded no results. When Damian had tried to cut off a corner of the paper for analysis it had resisted all attempts, including a laser and a diamond headed cutting tool. Damian’s only satisfaction was that when Father had grunted and taken over the task from Damian, he had no more success than his son. As if Damian didn’t know how to perform the standard array of tests!

It certainly didn’t help that his siblings wouldn’t stop their incessant chattering!

“I’m just saying, ghosts wouldn’t be the weirdest thing we’ve encountered, Red. I’m not sure it would even make my personal Top 5.”

It seemed gossip among heroes travelled faster than the speed of light.

“Really, Nightwing? Ghosts? It’s far more likely to be a meta with something to hide. Or a few screws loose.” Damian could practically hear the eyeroll in Drake’s voice “And since when do ghosts act as glorified mailmen?”

“I don’t know Red, since when do aliens pretend to be Kansas farmboys? C’mon, we deal with magic users all the time!”

“And lets not forget people coming back from the dead” Red Hood interjected over the open comm line.

“Magic is just science we don’t understand yet. Any sufficiently analysed magic becomes indistinguishable from science!”

“B, a little help here?”

“Hn” Father straightened up from his position at the lab table “Oracle, any progress on clearing up the footage from Robin’s mask?”

Grayson threw up his hands with a frustrated huff while Drake smirked.

“The program is almost finished rendering. Whatever scrambler they used did a real number on the video quality. I’m surprised the audio is as clear as it is.” Oracle replied.

“Hn. And the isotope tracer on the money?”

“Sorry B, no hits on the local sensors. Wherever the guy went it’s either outside Gotham or shielded somehow.” she said, mildly frustrated.

“Maybe it’s ghost magiiiiic” Drake sing-songed. Grayson lightly cuffed the back of his head, to which the former Robin responded with a firm shove. Their interaction quickly devolved into a childish tussle.

Damian gave an annoyed huff. “Don’t you two imbeciles have anything better to do?”

“Aww, we’re just here to look out for our baby brother!” Nightwing teased.

“Yeah, we gotta make sure your ghost encounter didn’t leave any lasting psychological damage!” Red Robin added.

Before Damian could retaliate for their needling, Oracle chimed in. “Uh, guys? You’re going to want to see this. Most of the footage was corrupted beyond repair, but I was able to pull some partial stills and, well…” she threw a handful of pictures up on the screen. There was artifacting marring them, but parts of the stranger were visible in each of them. Oracle magnified one that had a pretty good view of his face.

“Holy shit” Drake whispered.

Damian frowned. “What?”

“Dami, he looks like you. Just… older.” Grayson said softly.

“What are you talking about?” Damian snapped.

“Disregard the pale colouring for a second. The nose, the chin… he looks like you if you had a growth spurt,” Drake wrinkled his nose “and went through puberty.”

The commlines erupted into chaos. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Spoiler exclaimed “are you telling me there’s an older version of Robin running around Gotham?!”

“Copy?” Batgirl inquired.

“Don’t tell me Talia cooked up Demon Brat 2.0!”

“Given that he looks older it’s more likely version 0.1 if anything,” Drake snarked, “though there’s the possibility of artificially accelerated growth rates…”

Damian had had enough. “Tt. You are ignoring the obvious - if this is some kind of supernatural entity it likely copied aspects of my appearance in an attempt to engender feelings of familiarity.” he said haughtily, pushing down the uncomfortable churning in his stomach. There was no way Mother would replace him with a cheap copy. She couldn’t! “Besides, the creature has obvious powers and neither of my bloodlines has any trace of the meta gene.”

“That’s ignoring the ghostly elephant in the room.” Grayson chimed in, “Maybe it’s a dead ancestor?”

Drake gave their older brother an annoyed look “Even a time travelling descendant from the future is more likely than that. And delivering a ‘prophecy’ to boot?”

Oracle pulled up an aged up picture of Damian next to the stranger’s, highlighting several reference points. “On closer inspection, there’s a couple of discrepancies. The cheekbones for one - Robin definitely takes after his mother, while our mystery meta looks more like… well… Robin’s grandmother on the paternal side.” she finished hesitantly. “B?”

They turned to look at Batman, who had remained silent during the whole exchange. If they hadn’t known him so well they would have thought him unaffected, but the tightening around his mouth betrayed his agitation.

“There’s no use in pointless speculation until we have more data to work from,” he growled, “Oracle, look for any reports of a meta matching the target. Since our regular methods have failed to yield results, I will contact the JLD about running tests on the letter.” He turned to Drake, “Red Robin, see what you can find on recent League activities. If this is another scheme by Ra’s or Talia we need to know about it.”

“The last thing we need is more demon spawn running around!” Red Hood groaned over the comms.

Damian was furious. This was absurd! To even indulge the possibility that that creature was in any way related to him was making him feel like he had swallowed battery acid. He was the Demon’s Heir! He was not replaceable! There was only one thing to do.

“Robin? Stop!”

He ignored his Father’s shout. He stomped over to the lab table, snatched up the envelope and broke the seal.

Nothing happened.

He unfolded the paper and saw the same handwriting that had been on the outside.

Brother of blood, brother of soul

Never buried but already mourned

In lightning and ice the scorned child returned

To strike down the Demon’s Head

With all that Death earned

Damian’s hand shook. He reread the lines over and over again, refusing to comprehend. He could feel his Father standing behind him, scrutinising the letter as well.

“Son…”

Suddenly, the paper burst into green flames, going up into smoke that dissipated unnaturally quickly.

Silence reigned for a few moments. Then…

“Well that was needlessly melodramatic” Nightwing remarked.

Part 3

[belphies-cuhm-sluht]

Hello! I saw your asks open and i wanted to request some angst headcanons with dad!Asmo. I just read Luci's and oh man that sure hurt my heart, you write angst so well!

Unwanted (Dad!Asmo x F!Reader) ANGST

A/N : Mammon plays a really big part in this, just as Beel played a big role in the dad!Lucifer fic. It's never hinted whether they're together or not, it's kind of up to the imagination... but if you'd like, I can write a part two to this??? (I will also, to anyone who might want it, write a part two to the dad!Lucifer fic)

Word Count : 2.3K Warnings : pregnancy ; children ; maternity ; babies ; hinted abortion ; angst ;

He never wanted children, he didn’t want anything that would actually tie him down to anything or anyone. It wasn’t his “thing”, and you both had done everything to prevent it from happening. Up until now, everything had worked, there had never been one mistake, but the both of you got sloppy. There was a party, and… well, you loved him, and he had said that he loved you, and precautions weren’t a “thing” at that moment. One slip up, one mistake, and now everything was falling apart.

“I didn’t want this. I don’t want that.” He spat the words at you, pointing towards your stomach. He had only stopped pacing long enough to say it before starting again, walking the length of his room as he gnawed at his perfectly manicured fingers. You hadn’t expected anything different from him, but it still hurt that he was blaming the whole thing on you, as if it didn’t take 50/50 participation to make something like this happen. “It’ll completely ruin my image. A child with a human! It’ll be all over the tabloids, in every magazine… I can’t have that.” His behavior shouldn’t have been that shocking to you, but to hear just how selfish he really was, to know that he thought so little of you, it hurt way worse than you ever thought it would. One moment he was professing his love to you, and now he’s disgusted with you. It could have been that your emotions were running high from the situation, or maybe the hormones had just taken over completely, but you wanted to scream, you wanted to cry, and you wanted to fight him. “Your image?! This thing could kill me and all you care about is your stupid public persona… Screw you! I wish I never fell in love with you.” His eyes went soft, and for a moment you thought that maybe he’d apologize, maybe he was rethinking his own words, his actions, that maybe you’d be able to be a team to work through this mess. You were wrong, you were so wrong. “Wish all you want, we both know you’d have never been able to resist me.” Narcissistic, selfish, he was just awful. You closed your eyes tightly, trying to fight back the tears as you walked past him. He didn’t deserve your last words, he didn’t deserve anything. He didn’t deserve you.

The twelfth week was supposed to be the most exciting. It was when most couples would finally make their announcements, happily tell family and friends that they were expecting. Your twelfth week was a nightmare. You were trapped in the Devildom, human doctors wouldn’t know what the hell was going on if they delivered a child with horns, a child so angelically demonic that they’d probably call the hospital priest to your room as soon as they saw it. The only place where you’d be able to safely deliver a child like this and live through it would be in the Devildom. It’s not like you hadn’t tried to relieve yourself of the problem. You had gone to Lucifer, Satan, Barbatos, even Lord Diavolo, asking them if there was any way that they could just… get rid of it. Sadly, Asmodeus wasn’t just a narcissistic, selfish prick, he was also sadistic. None of them could do anything without Asmodeus’ approval since it was his child too. Every time one of them asked him, he would refuse. He didn’t even give a reason, he just wanted to see you suffer. Strangely, you had found comfort and solace in Mammon. You were pretty sure he was only helping because he still had a crush on you, but he became your emotional, mental, and physical support throughout everything. You had told him many times that he didn’t have to basically “fill in” for Asmo, but he insisted that it was the least he could do considering his little brother was being a dick. He wasn’t just your support at the house, he was… invested in the child that Asmo hadn’t wanted. He took you to doctors appointments, sometimes even getting in the way of the doctor as he pointed to the ultrasound screen. He was so excited that most people just assumed it was his kid, and he never denied it either. It was just easier that way, to go along with whatever the other demons said because he knew that any mention of Asmo would upset you and that was the last thing he wanted to do. Some days the both of you would sit on the couch in the living room, flipping through the pages of maternity books. He’d really try to understand the diagrams on the pages, but you could tell that he was confused and sometimes he’d even look up at you from the pages, and then down at your stomach, and then up at you, before looking back down at the pages. It was cute, and you’d giggle lightly, resting your head on his shoulder as you continued flipping through the pages. He had become the only person in the house that you felt like you could fully trust and rely on. Everyone else wanted to stay out of the drama, nobody wanted to get involved, but Mammon wasn’t there for the drama, he was only there for you, he was there when you needed him.

“Can you believe him? Can you believe both of them? We haven’t even broken up and they’re sleeping together, she’s even wearing his clothes. It’s ridiculous, and Mammon is out there playing dad with my kid.” Asmo sat on the edge of the counter, voicing his complaints to anyone who would listen. Sadly it was Beel’s turn since he was the only one in the kitchen right now. Most of the time the other brothers would just hide themselves away, not wanting to deal with Asmo right now, but Beel had gotten hungry and he really thought he’d be lucky enough to avoid his brother. “I don’t know what the big deal is… You didn’t want the kid anyway.” He wasn’t going to walk on eggshells around Asmo, he wasn’t going to lie to make anyone feel better. In Beel’s eyes, Asmo was completely in the wrong. “If Y/N is finding some sort of happiness in spending time with Mammon, who are you to complain? It stopped being your place when you said you didn’t want it.” He shrugged before grabbing his plate and going straight back to his room. He wasn’t going to continue listening to it, but he hoped that he had left Asmo with something to really think about. He walked up the stairs, going straight to the bedroom door, knocking loudly. He wasn’t going to stop until someone opened the door either. Mammon got up from the bed that you both had been propped up on, rolling his eyes as he walked over to his door, groaning loudly when he saw Asmo standing there. “Whaddaya want? We don’t need ya here… yer just gonna stress ‘er out.” He was trying to talk quietly, not wanting you to hear him or even know who was there. He was so protective of you, he wouldn’t let anyone else serve your food during meals, he’d even stand outside the bathroom door whenever you were in there just to make sure you didn’t fall or hurt yourself. Asmo pushed his way into the room much to Mammon’s annoyance. “I don’t care, Mammon. Y/N isn’t yours, and neither is the child. They’re both mine, and I’d like to have a word with her.” He said snidely, but Mammon wasn’t going to have it. Brother or not, he cared too much about you, he had worked so hard to help you get over what Asmo had done, and he wasn’t going to let him waltz back in and ruin everything. Mammon wasn’t weak, he was way stronger than he looked, and right now he was showing his strength, grabbing Asmo’s arm and practically throwing him out of the room. His teeth were barred and the growl that was coming from him sounded feral, animalistic, it was terrifying. “Neither of them are yers! I’ve been there fer everything, every doctor visit, I even bought a damn room fer the kid and she’s sleepin’ in my room, next ta me, and a next ta Y/N. Ya know why?! ‘Cause ya don’t jus’ get ta come back when ya fine’ly realize that ya fucked up! Now… leave us alone. We don’t need ya here.” He left Asmo out in the hallway, crumpled against the wall as he walked back into the room. “She…” Asmo kept repeating the word as he pushed himself up off the floor. He was having a daughter, and he hadn’t even known about it, he wouldn’t have known about it if Mammon hadn’t screamed at him. It was strange how knowing made things more real, it made him care more, and the worst part was that he knew it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to you. He didn’t know how to fix what he had done, but he knew that he had to try at least. “Lucifer…” “I don��t want things to be like this when she gets here. It’s not going to be long either.” You sighed, finally relaxing once more in the bed once Mammon got in next to you. “Why was he here anyway?” Mammon shrugged, focusing all of his attention on your stomach trying to calm himself. He liked watching it move, he thought it was neat.

The delivery was smoother than you thought it would be, and Mammon only fainted twice during the whole thing, so he did pretty good. Delivering a child in the Devildom had its perks, the main one being that you didn’t have to stay more than one day in the hospital to recover. They did some spell and you were completely fine. It was strange, but you appreciated it greatly. The only issue with the perk was that it meant you were going back home and that meant you’d have to face Asmo. She looked so much like him, and you could tell that Mammon was upset by it. Even though he knew she wasn’t actually his, he wished that she didn’t look so much like her father. Her eyes were his exact color, and it left you speechless when she first opened them, gazing up at you with wonder and curiosity. She was precious, and she was yours. As you walked through the door you were met with balloons and streamers, and Asmo. You heard Mammon growl quietly, and you quickly held your hand out to him, silently begging him to stop. He was holding the carseat and you didn’t need him to lose his temper right now. “I just wanted to welcome her home, welcome you home. I bought some things for her, they’re outside of Mammon’s door.” Asmo said nervously, and for once he was terrified of being rejected. “We don’t need noth-” Mammon had started, but you quickly shook your head, pleading to him with your eyes to just stay calm. He groaned loudly, eyeing Asmo angrily before walking past him to the stairs. “Fine. She’s prob’ly hungry… I’m gonna feed ‘er. Ya comin’ up?” You nodded quickly, making sure he got up the stairs alright before turning back to Asmo. “What are you doing, Asmo?”

He moved into the living room, waiting for you to sit down before he did, and he looked scared, he looked sad. Of course you didn’t like seeing him like this, but it was his fault, he had caused all of this. “I don’t want to be alone. I know that sounds selfish, that I’m making this about myself again, but I’m not trying to. When Mammon told me… he said she… It's a girl?” You nodded slowly and you saw his face light up for only a second before it left once more. “I was scared, I am scared… I didn’t know if I’d be a good… father. I never saw myself as one, but seeing Mammon, and he’s doing so well… I never saw him as a father either… I thought that maybe, since he could… that maybe I could too.” He sighed, bringing his hand back up to his lips to chew at his fingers again, his orange eyes glistening with the tears that hadn’t fallen yet. “I know that what I said was wrong… I was rude. I didn’t think I’d have a problem finding someone to take my mind off of everything, but I was wrong. I love you, and nobody else is going to take your place, nobody else can take your place.” You both sat on the couch in silence, his tears finally falling as he waited for you to say something, and yours building up as you tried to think of something to say. “This isn’t fair… You know this isn’t fair. You can’t… you can’t pick and choose when you want to be a dad. You weren’t there… and you made it very clear that you didn’t want her. I… I can’t do this Asmo… I’m sorry… They’re waiting for me… I-I have to go.” You took a deep breath as you stood from the couch, wiping your tears with the back of your hands as you started walking to the stairs. “Y/N…” He walked up behind you, grabbing your hand to stop you. You didn’t turn around to face him, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, but he didn’t mind. He was actually thankful that you didn’t look at him, because what he was about to say was the hardest thing he’d ever have to say in his life. “I know that I’m unwanted… But… If I may… Can I meet her? Just once? Please?”

[merakiui]

Okay okay okay I’ve been thinking about this for a few days now here’s my list of genshin boys most likely to least likely to become a yandere and why:

-xiao. Millennia of suffering and he meets somebody who makes the pain dissipate? Hell never let go.

-diluc. People have died in his arms, he can’t risk losing another loved one... it’s not like he doesn’t have the wealth and resources to keep his beloved by his side.

-Childe. I think he’d be the most dehumanizing yandere - he treats you almost like a child (haha) as be manipulates his way into your heart. And god knows that he gets what he wants.

-albedo is obviously in the top half of this list. We’ve talked about his yandere tendacies before so I won’t relist them but jeez get this boy some therapy.

-razor. Now this sounds surprising but after years of protecting his Lupical, do you really think he’d let somebody he loves and sees as helpless wander alone? I feel hes less captor and manipulative and more of a stalker if he becomes a yandere

-venti. Freedom is his entire world, but can he let his beloved have freedom if it endangers them? One of the most manipulative ones on this list, except he has no clue that he’s doing it.

-kaeya. Maybe you’d gotten to close to one of his secrets. Maybe you’d figured out something he wanted to die. It doesn’t matter much now, all you know is that you were tried and declared guilty by the knights of favonius and were sent into a dungeon protected by the Calvery captain himself.

-zhongli. Has the yandere desires, but refuses to give in. He’s loved and lost so many times over the years and he figures he doesn’t want to take that away from his beloved.

-chongyun. I’ve gone back and forth between him and xingqiu for this one, but I feel like these last 3 are all pretty much tied for not being a yandere. However, if he met someone who could somehow null his congenital positivity than he might move up on this list...

-Xingqiu. He has a strong sense of justice and honor, the idea of manipulating, stalking or god forbid kidnapping his S/O is appalling to him.

-Bennett. Literally just tryna vibe. Devotes as much time as he can to make sure any relationship he has is healthy.

So basically:

Everybody on this list: *frothing at the mouth, thinking of ways to keep their S/Os with them*

Bennett, Chongyun, Xingqiu and to some extent Zhongli: what the fuck

Your list... Simply amazing. Now that I’m thinking about it, I’m beginning to wonder where other characters would sit on the list. Mainly Scaramouche though aha oops Anyways, please never stop sharing your thoughts!! They are so GOOD!

Xiao’s backstory and past is just perfect material to fuel his yandere desires. He’s suffered for so long and has never really experienced positive emotions, let alone love itself. The poor adeptus is always brooding on his own and here comes his darling, bright and happy and just...perfect. They’re like a glimmering star in his murky darkness and he wants to treasure them. There’s no way he’s going to let go of the feeling he gets when he’s with them, nor is he going to let them leave his side.

It makes sense that Diluc would also be at the top of that list. He’s got the making of a yandere, especially considering all of the people he’s lost in his life. Now that he’s found someone so important to him, he can’t risk losing them. It would destroy him if he found out that his darling got hurt or was even killed because he wasn’t taking enough precautions to keep them safe. He’d definitely blame himself if something like that happened.

Childe, pspspspsp!!! The power this man holds... Omg he makes for such a terrifying yandere. On the outside, he seems warm and disarming—just your normal, happy-go-lucky kind of guy. He’s not dangerous at all! No way. But under all of that falsified charm is someone who knows how to pull strings. He’s a Fatui Harbinger, so of course he has the means of getting you wrapped around his finger. It’s not all that hard when he’s got money, power, and strength. Plus, when he wants something he’s not going to stop until he acquires it; Childe lives for the thrill of chasing after you and it’ll be even more fun once he catches you. Someone should send me more thoughts about yan!Childe!!! orz orz

Albedo also qualifies as a neat yandere! Something about yanderes who are into science is just...fascinating to me. It’s also cool because Albedo’s rumored to be a homunculus, so that adds to the intrigue! Albedo has the resources to get what he wants as well. It won’t be all that difficult, and if it proves to be challenging he can just think of other solutions to pacify his darling. He is a researcher, after all, and a good researcher seeks to find the best solution to a problem.

Razor would be a feral yandere. He’s more action than words. He doesn’t put much thought into what he does because it feels more like an instinct to him. He’s just protecting his Lupical. There’s nothing wrong with that! So why are you acting so difficult? D: 

Like you said, Venti’s not aware of his manipulation and he just does it because it works. His belief that everyone deserves freedom is probably what really holds him back. He doesn’t want you to feel caged, but that feeling is practically inevitable since he’s always hounding you. Venti is a very suffocating yandere and he doesn’t even realize it.

KAEYA! KAEYA! I love the idea of Kaeya having some sort of blackmail on you—something so bad that you absolutely can’t let the world see. And so he uses that to keep you quiet. If you did stumble upon one of his secrets, he can’t possibly have you running that pretty mouth of yours. But if you do end up spilling his secret, it’s only fair that he shares yours, right? An eye for an eye, as some would say. Kaeya’s very smooth and calculative when it comes to handling blackmail. Whenever it feels like you’re trying to one-up him and possibly escape, he’ll flirtatiously remind you of the power he holds over you. Blackmail is rather compelling, is it not?

Zhongli does have the motive to be a yandere, as you pointed out, but he’s a strange case. On one hand, it makes sense that he’d want to protect his beloved at all costs, but on the other he’d probably be aware of these unhealthy tendencies. Although he probably uses the idea of a contract to keep your relationship going, even if it’s clear you don’t want anything to do with him. But if you do, that just makes it easier on him! 

NO BECAUSE I THOUGHT THE SAME FOR CHONGYUN!!! Not the yan!Chongyun piece rotting in my drafts for a month or two now ehehee I had some thoughts about Chongyun but never bothered posting it for some reason. Anyways, I do think Chongyun has potential to be a yandere! As you mentioned, his congenital positivity can become an issue and he doesn’t want that to seriously affect his daily life. So he’s probably very pleased to find someone who can nullify that positivity. It’d be similar to Xiao’s case; Xiao likes someone who can be the light in his dark world. Chongyun falls for the person who can null his congenital positivity and is someone who he gets along with. 

The only way I can see Xingqiu being a yandere is if he wants a noble, storybook romance. Okay, that sounds strange, but consider it! He’s a huge bookworm who probably doesn’t exactly experience romance aside from what he reads in his novels. Although he doesn’t dabble in the romance genre all that often, he does like the idea of being a hero and sweeping someone off of their feet. So when he meets you—another fellow bookworm or maybe the two of you are thrown into an arranged marriage—he just feels an undeniable connection. This must be some form of fate or a sixth sense. Maybe he can be the main character of his own story! You’ll just have to cooperate and you can be the valiant knight’s love interest!

Bennett’s vibes are so nice. How could he be a yandere? He’s just too sweet and pure. He’s really just here to chill and gather an adventuring team full of great friends! But if anyone has any thoughts...please share them! 

That’s it. I’m writing about Scaramouche even though he’s not on the list. Please, why do I simp so much for him? Anyways, we don’t know nearly enough about Scaramouche to determine his backstory or past. But he just oozes yandere! Most of the Harbingers are probably the same, to some extent. He’s like Childe with all of the power and resources, but whereas Childe relishes in the chase Scaramouche refuses to put up with it. It’s just way too inconvenient for him. He’d rather catch you when you least expect it and then keep you for himself.

Gosh, he’s a very determined and possessive yandere with a strict agenda; this man probably cheats in order to get you. He’ll send his underlings to do the work in his place. They’ll stalk you and report back to him and it isn’t long before he learns of your friends, certain family members you’re close to, and even where you live. It’s terrifying, but this is Scaramouche we’re talking about. For someone so short, he sure knows how to intimidate and beat fear into those below him. Good luck to the poor soul who catches his eye. 

I must thank you for making that list! It was lots of fun to consider their mindsets and behaviors as yandere. :D

[panda-noosh]

taste test {kaz brekker x reader}

   there are guests today.

    little information was given to you, but you don’t mind; you’re not here to entertain anyone. you’re here to do your job and move on. who the king associates with is honestly none of your concern. 

   you’ll leave the assassins to the royal guards.

    you wake on the day to witness the palace in hysterics. chefs bustle around like headless chickens, maids and butlers ironing uniforms that have not had a crinkle in them since the war. the scent of food - a cacophany of it - rises to the surface, making you crinkle your nose at the onslaught of different options. all you want is a slice of toast to prepare you for the day, but the thought of walking into that kitchen has you cuddling up in bed for a few minutes longer.

    you’ll have to eat that food pretty soon. just a small bite, just enough to get a taste. a hint. 

   you close your eyes.

    the peace doesn’t last long, because it never does. a knock sounds at your door, startling you from your reverie. you roll over, not even bothering to cover yourself when you call out, “come in!”

    a palace guard - rico - peaks his bald head round the door and raises a brow. “still sleeping?”

   “clearly not.”

    “good. you need to be up and at your post in thirty minutes; we have guests today.”

   you pull the quilt over your head. “don’t remind me.” you peak an eye over the top, raising a brow. “who are the guests?”

   rico narrows his eyes. “you haven’t been told?”

   “well, no. i never really asked.”

    “then i’ll leave it as a surprise.” he claps his hands, like you’re some kind of dog. “get ready. i don’t want to come back up here again.”

   “then don’t,” you reply, but he’s already disappeared.

    you drag yourself from bed to do as he ordered. there’s no point arguing with the palace guards - they seem to think they own the place, even though they live basically under the thumb of every other individual walking the grounds. even you, the lowest of the low, can manipulate them into doing what you want if you just try hard enough. a few sweet words and a confident tone, and they’re like putty in your hands.

    but the truth is, you don’t care enough about todays events to put on that confident tone. you pull your clothes on, fiddle with your bow tie, and head downstairs to see what the day has in store for you.

    breakfast, lunch, and dinner. 

    a risky day ahead.

    you’re required to be at the kings side long before the guests arrive. you’ve never questioned it. the rules of the palace have never made any sense to you, but you go along with them, because you don’t want to get into any more trouble than you already have. that’s why you find yourself stood by the kings side in silence, hands clasped in front of you, trays of delicious breakfast foods being delivered by hasty, sweaty porters.

    the dining room is swathed in beautiful decor. banners hang from the ceiling, red and gold colours matching the grand wallpaper all around. the fancy carpet has been rolled out, tucked beneath the long, mahogany dining table and stretching all the way to the double doors ready to greet the guests. 

   even the king is dressed well for the occasion, which is another surprise. though the king hardly looks like a peasant, he makes a point to put in as little effort with his appearance as possible, just to show people that he can get anyone to fear him from personality alone. his riches and fancy fabrics have nothing to do with his power.

    but today he wears his finest silk coat, the buttons straining against his round stomach. his beard has been freshly trimmed, and you watch his hand rock back and forth amongst the hairs. a few stray ones float from his chin to the table, and you quickly swipe them away. the king doesn’t even notice; he continues staring at the doors, one dark skinned knuckle tight around the arms of his throne-like chair. 

     finally, after what feels like forever, the double doors up ahead are pushed open. two palace guards dressed in red hold them in place, and a man is ushered in.

    a man you recognise immediately.

    he’s got a cane now, which is different. there’s those gloves on his hands, the sides of his head still shaved, with that shaggy, dark mess still perched on top, a school boys haircut that looks most out of place on someone with blood on his hands. he’s frowning, because that’s what kaz brekker does - the king shows his power through his booming voice and cruel choices. kaz brekker shows his power through his expressions. 

    you don’t meet his eyes, though you don’t look away. kaz has his gaze on the king, not even noticing you standing at his side, and for that you are thankful; you don’t think you want to look into those blue eyes again. you promised yourself you wouldn’t, not before the nightmares disappear.

    the king slowly stands. he rubs his beard one final time for good measure before saying, “you’re late, kaz.”

    “call me mr brekker,” kaz replies, before gesturing to an empty seat at the end of the table - the seat farthest from the king. “shall we sit?”

    you swallow; you’re familiar with this attitude from him, but you’ve been in the kings presence too long now to pretend kaz isn’t on thin ice. 

    the king, however, is clearly in a docile mood, as he nods and sits down. the food in the centre of the table goes unnoticed for a while as the two stare at each other, waiting for the other to crack and begin the conversation. you fiddle with your fingers, uncertain whether kaz has seen you, whether he recognises you, whether he’s just keeping a straight face because he’s kaz, and he’s a professional.

    finally, the king clicks his fingers at you. “stack my plate. you know the drill.”

   you burst into action, bustling round the table, scooping up different assortments of breakfast foods you know the king enjoys; he’s got his bacon, and his eggs, and the bread, pancakes on the side. you slather beans along the rim of his plate and place a single hash brown in the residue, just as he likes it.

   and then you sit down, and pick apart the entire thing.

    you can feel kaz’s eyes burning into you as you work, but you pay him no attention. you have to focus, because this is kind of a life or death situation. you sniff the food first, though this very rarely shows you anything you might need to worry about. it’s too fresh, still warm in your fingers when you lift it to your nose. you can smell only the warmth of it all, but you take the precaution anyway, just to show the king you know what you’re doing.

    and then you nibble the edges, heart thumping with nerves rather than poison entering your body. that’s what you’re looking for - poison, an assassination attempt. even in his own palace, the king is paranoid. his own staff have turned against him before. you’re not entirely surprised.

    you chew, swallow, pause, repeat.

    “all clear.”

   you hand the plate back, tuck your hands in your lap and look down at the table at kaz. he’s staring at you, an eyebrow raised, and you understand immediately that he recognises you, probably knew you worked here before he even entered the premise.

   was he here for you?

   you banish the thought and look away. you wait until the king has started digging in before excusing yourself and exiting, your job for the morning complete. at lunch, you will have to repeat the process, and again at dinner, but until then, you have the morning to yourself.

    you walk through the gardens, because fresh air is all you need right now. your heart is hammering, and you curse yourself for it - kaz brekker has not been in your life for months. he shouldn’t have a grip on you. he shouldn’t even know you are here, and yet he does, because of course he does. kaz doesn’t step foot anywhere until he knows the ins-and-outs of the entire place. he keeps his ducks all in a neat row, and you were a fool to believe you had escaped it.

    it’s not like kaz is a bad man. he’s evil, certainly, with horrible actions under his belt, but you can understand his reasoning. he kills a man, and maybe that’s an overexaggeration, but the man was also seconds away from traumatising a poor woman walking home from work. kaz takes a life, saving the day in the process. it’s how he works, how he’s always worked for as long as you’ve known him.

   and you’ve known him for a while.

   you haven’t been by his side in months, but someone like kaz brekker is someone you never forget. once you know kaz, you never stop knowing him, which is a curse more than anything else. oh, how you wish you could wipe the slate clean, pretend you never got involved with him and his gang in the first place. but that was your decision - your stupid, careless decision - and you need to face the consequences.

    having him here, at your place of work, was a consequence.

    you sit down by the stream just outside the palace grounds. a duckling struts past, paying you no attention whatsoever. a stray lilipad floats gently through the water, spurred on by the tiny breeze ketterdam has for you today.

     you like to come here sometimes, just to clear your head a little bit. nobody else bothers with the nice scenery and the nature; they think it’s a waste of time. if it wasn’t for the gardener, this place would be a wasteland, left to shrivel and disappear into shadow. you’re thankful it’s been kept pleasant, though - it’s a good place for someone who wants to have no thoughts for a little while.

    you lean down and run your fingertips along the water. it’s cold, and a weed gets tangled between your fingers. you lift it from the water with a wince, flicking your wrist to get it off-

    a cane clamps down on your fingers, shoving your hand into the grass.

   you inhale sharply, straightening up but not turning around.

    “so easy to startle,” kaz hums. “you’re losing your touch, y/n.”

    you twist your hand and catch the bottom of his cane, using it to pull yourself to your feet. kaz doesn’t stumble, but you never expected him to; kaz doesn’t stumble. he’s much too stubborn for that.

    you whirl around, and there he is, that frown on his face, his head tilted like he’s analysing you even before you’ve said two words. a heat festers in your belly. you don’t know if you want to hug him or slam your fist into his nose. 

    “so this is where you ended up, is it?” he glances at the grand gardens, the glistening lake, the ducklings swimming past. “you’ve surprised me, i gotta say. i never thought you’d be into such grandeur.”

   you fold your arms over your chest, cheeks heating up. you will admit, the palace is certainly not the place you thought to find yourself, either; after living in the barrel your entire life, you had grown used to dirt stained clothes, weeks without washing, hunger pains. this was different. this was a different type of hell, a hell in fancy clothes.

    “cat got your tongue?” kaz continues, swinging that stupid cane back and forth. “shame. i think we have a lot to talk about.”

   “why are you here?”

   “ah, asking the right questions now!”

   “just tell me, kaz. tell me, and then we can go our separate ways - just like you wanted.”

    his expression falters for a moment, so quick that it’s clear he doesn’t want you noticing the power you still have over him, even just a little. 

    “fine,” he says. “let’s walk.”

   you do just that, hands tucked into pockets, head tilted down. it’s easier to talk to him when you’re not subject to his facial expressions, too - handling both of them is too much. 

    “you want to know why i’m here,” he begins. “i’m here looking for you.”

    your stomach drops, even though that was kind of what you were expecting. 

    he pauses, giving you a chance to fill in the silence with your own thoughts, but you don’t even look up.

    he barrels on. “we had a tip-off from someone that you were working here now. no one else believed it, but me? i know you a little better than them. i was surprised, but i could picture it. you’ve always been irrational when you’re desperate.”

   you wince. “you don’t know me at all, kaz.”

    he smiled at the sky in response, like you had walked into his trap.

    “i hope you didn’t come here thinking you can coax me back to the barrel,” you continue. “that’s not going to happen.”

    his jaw clenches, head still tilted towards the sun. his skin is a little darker now, a little more tan. he’s probably been out and about, you think, causing havok in the sunshine, ruining people’s holidays because he can.

    “i thought you would say that,” he says. “so i’m bringing the problem to you.”

   you nearly stumble. “what?” freezing in the middle of the path, you grab his arm and whirl him around, forcing him to look at you. “what have you done, kaz? what problem?”

    “she asked for you.”

    “kaz-”

   “inej is sick.”

    your breath falters. those words, so simple, yet so . . . unexpected. inej ghafa - the wraith, your best friend, the girl designed to be indestructible. that’s why kaz picked her. that’s why she worked alongside you. that’s what made you the best damn crew in ketterdam.

    “sick.” 

    kaz nods, shrugging his arm from your grip. “sick. ill. not well. poorly. whatever you want to call it. she’s not doing good, and the only person she’s asking for is you.”

    “so where is she?” you whirl around. “is she here?”

   “not walking alongside us, no.”

   you scowl. “i mean at the palace, kaz. is she at the palace?”

   “she will be.” kaz pulls a golden watch from his pocket. “in about three hours. that should give your employer plenty of time to set my room up and make some space in the hospital wing, don’t you think?”

   you close your eyes, trying desperately to steady the thumping of your heart. he could be lying, and you know that, but what if he isn’t? what is inej really is on her death bed, and you never even got to say goodbye?

    the thought terrifies you to the point your hands begin to tremble. when you open your eyes, kaz is staring at them, and you’re almost certain there is something close to pity sparking there.

   you quickly snap your arms behind your back and nod. “fine. okay. i’ll see her. but once i’ve done what i can, you leave. both of you.”

    kaz studies your face. the fire in your stomach burns even brighter, forcing you to look away and keep walking.

    kaz follows, all soft footsteps. “i’m not here to bring up the past, y/n. i hope you know that.”

    “you can understand why i find that hard to believe.”

   “well, yes. but i’m serious. what we had, it means nothing now. you’re a different person, and so am i. we can let it go.”

    you swallow the lump in your throat, trying to pretend those words are exactly what you wanted to hear. but a knot twists in your heart, almost to the point of pain.

   you take a deep breath and glance at him over your shoulder. he’s only a few steps behind, but his presence is so large, so there that you nearly trip. 

   and then you say, “we never had anything, kaz. remember that.”

----

   it’s like you’re trying to hurt each other.

   that’s how it’s always been between you and kaz, but at one point, it felt natural. it was a bit of fun. a few snide remarks here and there, followed by kaz confessing he thinks your eyes are a very pretty colour. a bit of sparring, followed by you telling kaz he’s the most important person in your life. 

   this time, however, the mere sight of him is a torment, one you don’t find fun in the slightest.

    the king tasks you with leading kaz through the palace. this was a job you fully expected to be given, but it doesn’t make it any easier. kaz stops to examine every little thing, tracing his fingers along artefacts you would be murdered for touching.     

   you swat his hand away when he reaches for a bust of the kings father. “stop it. if you knock that over, he’ll have you hanged.”

    kaz raises a brow before touching a gloved fingertip to the stone. you groan and march off, trying to ignore the butterflies at the sound of his soft, hidden chuckle echoing behind you.   

   you show him his room, a beautifully decorated space much grander than any room the king has ever given you. kaz whistles when he walks in, looking at the wine bucket on his chest of drawers, and the freshly made bed with the thick linens, and a view to die for.

    “spoiled,” he says.

   you roll your eyes. “i’ll leave you to get comfortable.”

    “or.” he whirls, catching your arm. his fingers slot in the crook of your elbow, the leather of his gloves sparking unwanted familiarity within you. “you can stay, and we can talk some more.”

   “i have things to do, kaz.” you rip your arm from his grip. “the king will be having lunch soon, and i need to be there.”

    kaz scoffs, slowly sliding the knot out of his tie and slipping it from beneath his collar, like undressing in front of you is no big deal. “so you can do what? potentially die? you know, y/n, i once thought you were a tough son of a bitch, but the longer i’m here, the more i’m realising just how weak you are.”

    ouch.

   “we’ve all got to make a living somehow,” you reply. “you murder people, i keep the king safe.”

    “the same king you wanted to assassinate a few months ago?” he tilts his head, pursing his lips. “what a drastic change of heart.”

   “go to hell, kaz.”

    he raises a hand. “wait for me outside; i’ll come to lunch with you and your king.”

   you pause. “has he invited you?”

   “i don’t need an invite.”

    “you’re not permitted to be there-”

   “i’ll be there.” he starts unbuttoning his shirt. “i want to watch you in action. you’ve always been very good in action.” he smirks, and you know he’s just teasing you, trying to get a reaction. your cheeks heat up, but you quickly turn on your heel and scurry out before he can notice. 

    you don’t wait on him outside. instead, you hurry to the dining hall, where the king is already seated. he looks up when you enter, fingers already tangled in his beard. his wife sits beside him, grand and tall and everything a queen should be. she scowls when you enter, but you ignore her, immediately taking your seat by the king and fanning a napkin over your lap.

    “sorry,” you say. “kaz brekker kept me.”

    “it’s mr brekker,” the queen snaps. “have some respect for our guests.”

   “y/n can call me kaz.”

   you close your eyes, listening to the thump of his feet and cane against the carpet. 

   “y/n can call me kaz,” he repeats, lowering himself in the chair at the head of the table. “mr brekker is a little too formal for them.”

     “mr brekker,” the queen exclaims, fanning her reddening face. “i wasn’t aware you would be joining us for lunch!” 

   you nearly roll your eyes at her flustered state - okay, so kaz is attractive. he’s also half her age.

    kaz leans back in his seat, tapping his fingertips together. “oh, no, i’m not eating. i’m just here to observe.” at the confused silence, he shrugs. “i have nothing better to do, and i’ve always been fascinated with the hobbies y/n takes on. such a talented soul they are.”

    you’ve never heard kaz speak so formal before, and you have half a mind to laugh. instead, you glance over to see his own lips trembling in his attempts to keep a straight face - he finds this just as amusing as you do. messing with the royals, it’s all a game to him. they are the fools. 

    “do you two know each other?” the king asks, handing you his stacked plate.

   “no,” you snap. kaz grins behind his glove, staring at you over his fingers as you hasten to add, “no, we don’t. i just met him today.”

    the king nods slowly, not quite sure whether to believe you or not. you don’t give him a chance to doubt any further before picking up your knife and fork and cutting a small chunk from a slice of tofu. you go through the usual routine with everything on his plate, but all the while, kaz stares. you feel his eyes like a fire sinking into the side of your face, putting you off from paying proper attention. you pop the cut-off’s in your mouth and chew, turning to meet his gaze, as if making eye contact with him is some kind of power move. however, he actually looks a bit. . . worried? concerned? you’ve never seen that expression on his face before, and it makes your stomach flip as you swallow the food.

    you give a final nod, handing the plate back to the king. you repeat the process with the queen before standing, straightening your trousers and excusing yourself.

    kaz’s chair screeches as he stands.

    “mr brekker, would you not care for some lunch?” the queen asks.

    “no.” he turns and follows you out the dining room, catching your arm when you try and run. “what the hell?”

    you spin, snatching your arm away. “can you stop grabbing me?”

    “what happens if their food actually has been poisoned?”

    “then i get poisoned.”

   he raises a brow, skin paling. “and do they have someone on hand for if that happens?”

   “on hand to do what?”

   “don’t play stupid, y/n. on hand to save your fucking life.”

   you scowl; it’s been a long time since you’ve heard kaz curse, and it shames you to feel the same thrill run over you. 

    “i get sent to the infirmary,” you reply. “but it’s never happened before.”

    “never happened-” he shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. “this is the kind of life you want to live? you left the barrel for this?”

    “no life is as bad as the barrel.”

    kaz’s lips tighten, eyes fluttering closed for the briefest moment before he opens them again and says, “you left the place where people loved you, cared about you, and you came here. to this shit hole. you’re risking your life for them, and you have the nerve to tell me this life isn’t as bad as the barrel?”

    even to you it sounds ridiculous, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing that. 

    “the barrel wasn’t a life,” you say. “the barrel was a beginning for me, but i’ve moved on.”

    “you don’t move on from that.”

   “maybe not mentally, but i can damn well get away physically.” you lean in, lowering your voice. “i just wish you’d let me.”

    his eyes scan your face, drawing attention to just how close you are to him. his breath fans your cheeks. you can make out every line on his lips, every crease in his face. you could lean forward if you wanted to, close that distance.

    you step back, once again straightening your trousers. “tell me when inej arrives and i’ll come meet her in the infirmary.”

    kaz doesn’t say anything. he watches you leave, and part of you - a retched, traitorous part - is disappointed he doesn’t follow. 

   ----

    inej really is sick.

   “so it’s true,” you say, sauntering into the infirmary. “the wraith has been beaten.”

    you’re trying to jest, but there’s little humour to be felt when she looks like that. her dark skin is pale and sickly, warm drops of sweat clinging to her forehead and rolling down her neck. she’s dressed in only a thin night gown, revealing collar bones and stretched skin where her muscles once were. 

   she looks up, bloodshot eyes meeting your own, and even in sickness, she manages a smile when she sees you. that’s enough to have you breaking. you rush to her bedside and bundle her in your arms, nearly sobbing with relief at the feel of her pressed against you, her hands in your hair, her mouth inches from your ear.

   she whispers, “it’s you.”

   you pull away, nodding. “yes. it’s me.”

    “what are you doing here?”

    you pull a chair over and sit down. “that’s not important.”

    “yes, it is.”

   “i’ll explain later.” you lean forward, pushing a strand of hair away from her face. “you talk first; what’s going on?”

   inej coughs into her elbow; something rattles in your throat, and you try desperately to hide your wince. “i just got sick. i fell in the brig a few days ago, and i don’t think the water was very healthy.”

   “of course it wasn’t,” you grumble. “it’s the barrel, you stupid girl. what did you expect?”

    “i cleaned myself pretty well afterwards,” she defends. 

   “clearly not well enough.” you place a hand to her cheek. “has anyone come to see you?”

   “some man in a coat,” she replies, nuzzling down in the pillows. “he checked my temperature and my blood pressure and all that stuff. said he’d be back soon.”

   “and he didn’t seem . . . concerned?”

   inej shrugs. “i didn’t look him in the eye. men like him don’t sit right with me, y/n. i let him do his job, but i’m not looking at him. i’m not giving him ideas.”

   you nod. there is a silence, but those are okay between you and inej. 

    finally, you reach over and take her hand. her palms are clammy, cold, but her grip is strong. 

    “i’m sorry i wasn’t there to help you.”

    her head snaps around, eyes widening. “y/n-”

   “i know you always say you understand why i left, but it’s just. . . i don’t know. i feel guilty about it. i feel selfish sometimes, and you’ve had to travel all the way here whilst you’re in this state all because i wasn’t there to-”

    “has kaz been making you feel guilty?”

   your mouth snaps closed. “i don’t. . . i don’t think so?”

    inej sighs, head dropping back into the pillows. “don’t listen to him. i understand why you left; i always have. kaz just. . . i don’t think he ever got over it when you disappeared. it was like a part of him went with you.” she shrugs. “a part of him did go - you.”

    silence again, because you have no idea how to respond to that. kaz was hurt when you left, and you know that, but he’s kaz. he’s tough. he’s been through everything a person should never have to go through. the thought of his final straw being you is almost laughable to think about.

    “he loved you,” inej continues, even though you don’t want her to. “he really, really loved you.”

    “past tense,” you whisper. “not any more.”

    inej smiles sadly, and that’s all you need to see to understand you’re right - he’s moved on. he’s here with you now, but that means nothing in the grand scheme of things. he’s here on business. he doesn’t care about you, and he said it himself - whatever the two of you had is gone, non-existent. you thought you had come to terms with that, but seeing the confirmation on inej’s face makes you feel suddenly exhausted.

    “well this isn’t about kaz and i,” you say, pulling your shoulders back. “come on. tell me what’s been going on since i left.”

   ---

    you’re trying to sleep when you hear the bang.

    trying being the key word. always. every night, you put your best efforts into drifting to sleep, but it never seems to work how you want it to. you toss and turn for hours on end, drifting in and out of your associative state, but not really falling asleep. time just passes, and then it’s day time, and you’re working again.

   tonight is no different.

   the bang is loud, just next door to your room. your ears immediately prick - the palace guards aren’t moving towards it. you’re already awake, so you may as well see to it yourself.

   you swing your legs out of bed, grab your dressing gown and walk into the hallway. glancing back and forth, you see nothing out of the ordinary.

   the bang sounds again.

   you narrow your eyes, walking further down the hallway. turning a corner, the bang sounds one final time before a pair of shoes flies at the wall and crashes to the floor in a heap.

   you rush forward, eyes wide. “what the-”

   kaz spins, another pair of expensive shoes already in his hand. “oh. did i wake you?”

    dazed, you snatch the shoes into your possession and toss them to the floor. “what the fuck are you doing, kaz? people are trying to sleep!”

    “i was also trying to sleep,” kaz replies. “i am one of those people, so why are you yelling at me?”

   you rub your eyes in frustration - sometimes talking to him is like pulling teeth.

   “oh, come on,” kaz says. “i was just doing a bit of late night cleaning. this room is a fucking shit hole.”

    you raise a brow, sighing. “what are you on about? this room was pristine when you came.”

    “yeah, well, i thought so too. and then i found this.” he motions for you to enter the room, and though you know it’s a bad idea, you do so. he hooks his foot around something beneath his bed, and pulls out a box overflowing with expensive shoes.

   you narrow your eyes. “what’s the problem?”

   “rich men shoes,” he says, like that explains everything. after knowing kaz as deeply as you do, it kind of does make sense.

   you sigh again, kicking the box back beneath the bed. “go to sleep, kaz.”

    “i can’t.”

    “try.”

   “you know i can’t.”

   you pause, overcome with a sudden chill. you wrap the dressing gown tighter around your body, trying to refrain from looking at him - he’s still dressed in the fancy clothes he wore this morning, but the top button is pulled loose, and his hair is a mess. his eyes droop a little, evidence that he really wants to sleep, but genuinely just can’t.

   and you know why.

   “i’m not asking you to stay with me,” he continues, grabbing a pair of socks from the floor. “i’m just saying - you have no right telling me to sleep when you know what it’s like.”

    “are they bad again?”

    kaz purses his lips. “they’ve been bad for a while.”

   a while. that’s how he always phrases it. when he says it’s been a while, he means it’s been a while since you left the crows, left him. 

    you swallow, looking to the ceiling like the intricate design will give you clarity. “i can get you tea or something. a fresh blanket. whiskey.”

    “trying to get me drunk?”

   “kaz, i’m serious.” you meet his eyes. “you look terrible.”

    he laughs, a sly sound that reeks more of danger than amusement. “thank you.”

    “let me get you something.” you turn, but he catches your elbow. you glance back just as he drops his hand like your flesh has burned him, an uncharacteristic redness adorning his cheeks.

   “didn’t mean to touch you,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck. “but i’m serious; i don’t need anything. it’s useless anyway.”

    everything is useless. every remedy he’s ever been given has never worked. the only remedy for insomnia that has worked for kaz brekker is you.

   but you can’t do that to him. you can’t do that to yourself. 

    “okay,” you mumble. “just. . . stop making so much noise, alright?”

   “did i really wake you?”

    “i couldn’t sleep either.”

    you stare at each other. it’s like you’re waiting for the other to break. you hate that you kind of want him to break.

    his adams apple bobs. “make yourself some tea, then. i’ll be a bit quieter.”

    you nod. “thanks.”

   “how’s inej, by the way? did you see her?”

    “i did. she seems. . . okay.” you shrug. “the doctors are going to do everything they can to help her get back to normal. then you can go back to the barrel.”

    kaz nods, though his movements are slower this time around, shoulders a little more slumped. neither of you say anything else as you walk out, tugging your dressing gown a little tighter around your body. 

   you don’t take his advice. you don’t need tea, or whiskey, or a fresh blanket; with kaz’s words and his expressions and him, you know there is no way you’re getting to sleep any time soon, no matter what remedy you use.

    ----

     “good morning, royalty.”

    the king looks up from his breakfast, the very breakfast you have just tested for poison. it sits weirdly in your stomach this morning; after a sleepless night, your appetite has deserted you, but you have no choice besides eating.

   kaz strolls into the room, dressed in a suit. his white shirt sits against his chest, and his sleeves are rolled up to reveal the crow tattoo on his arm. you awkwardly rub your own crow tattoo, suddenly very aware of how permanent it is.

    “good morning, mr brekker,” the king says. “again, you surprise me with your presence. we weren’t expecting you for breakfast.”

    “i am just full of surprises.” he sits down in his usual seat and meets your eyes. “how are you this morning, y/n?”

    “y/n was just about to leave,” the king replies, as you knew he would; he likes hearing your voice as little as possible. 

    kaz, however, keeps his eyes on you. “i asked y/n. not you.”

    you stare straight at him, a silent warning. “i’m good, mr brekker. well-rested.”

    “you can call me kaz.” he leans back, grinning. “i’m glad to hear it. maybe you and i can take a walk amongst the duck pond again later on.”

   there he goes, putting on that god awful formal accent that he thinks is so funny. 

    you scowl. “i’m a bit busy today, mr brekker.”

   “kaz.”

   “he asked you to call him kaz, y/n,” the king snaps.

   kaz nods. “i asked you to call me kaz, y/n.”

   you bite your lip, pushing back the retort that so desperately wants to rise. he’s just sat there, grinning with no shame. the king is looking straight at him, and he doesn’t even care.

    “any duties you’ve been given today can be postponed until later,” the king says. “mr brekker is our guest, and if he wants your company, your company he shall receive.”

    kaz’s grin gets wider, and oh, you want so desperately to punch him square in the face. instead, you force a smile, turning to the king to tell him just how honoured you would be to give kaz brekker your company on this fine morning.

   and that’s how you find yourself strolling through the gardens with kaz, yet again.

    “you’re unbelieable,” you mumble, arms folded over your chest like a school kid having a tantrum. 

    “i’m good,” he replies. “you know i’m good, y/n. i don’t know why you act surprised.”

    “he’s the king, kaz,” you hiss. “can you not tone it down a little?”

   “tone what down?”

   “the-” you gesture vaguely, though the only word you can conjure is flirting, and there’s no way in hell you’re letting that slip into the conversation. “the shit. tone down the shit!”

   “i’m not scared of him. i know you want me to be, but i’m not.”

    “oh yes. how could i forget? kaz brekker isn’t scared of anything.”

    kaz scoffs. “kaz brekker is scared of plenty of things - men aren’t one of them.”

   such a kaz thing to say. the most frustrating bit about it was that he was telling the truth.

    “i told inej what your job is here,” he continues after a moment of tense silence.  

   “oh?”

   “she understands. says you’ve always been one to do anything to survive.”

   you shrug. she’s right. 

    “that worries me, you know.”

    “nothing worries you, kaz.”

   “the thought of you in danger does.”

   you shake your head. “don’t start this now. you said it yourself; what we had was nothing.”

    “why can’t i worry about you without it having to mean something bigger?”

    “because everything you say means something bigger.”

   kaz falls silent. he knows it’s true, and so do you. kaz has never been able to speak his full extent, always letting people think less of him so he can take them by surprise when the time is right. you have learned first hand how frustrating that can be, but it was also a part of him you grew to love. it was what made him so intelligent, so cunning. it was what made him kaz. 

 “are you not ever worried you’re going to get unlucky one day?”

   you glance over. he keeps his head ducked down, one hand curled around the head of his cane, the other tucked into his pocket. “i know what i signed up for. getting poisoned was kind of part of the risk.”

    “since when did you even know how to identify poisons?”

   your lips twitch. “jesper taught me.”

   kaz rolls his eyes skyward, running a hand through his hair; the sun glows against his tan skin. “of course he did. honestly, the shit you two got up to when i wasn’t around-”

    “we had fun,” you say. “we could only do that when you weren’t hovering over our shoulders.”

   kaz glares. 

   you look to the floor, afraid to smile at him, afraid to open this conversation into something even mildly pleasant; if you can get through this entire visit without thinking of kaz fondly, maybe it will make all of it a bit easier. maybe you’ll be able to trick yourself into thinking you’ve moved on, grown stronger since your time in the barrel.

        “how is jesper?” you ask, because you suddenly feel like you can’t help it.

   kaz shrugs. “how jesper always is.”

    “worse?”

    “for a while. he didn’t take you leaving very well, but he straightened himself out.” kaz tugs on his lapels. “he always does.”

    “yeah. he does.”    

    you wonder about jesper sometimes. it hurts to know he took your leave badly, though you should have known; jesper has never been one to handle his feelings well. that was your job on his behalf. you would often sit with him at night, just to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid. you once handcuffed him to his bed post to stop him heading out into the gambling hall of the hotel you were staying in.

    he was the only one you could ever really properly speak to about what was going on between you and kaz. inej understood kaz, but jesper was kaz’s right-hand man. he was the one kaz would go to about things like that.

    “does jesper know how to make your brew?”

    there is no moment of confusion, like he was expecting the question. “i’m sure he does. i never ask him to make it, though.”

    your nostrils flare. “kaz-”

   “listen, the nightmares aren’t going to disappear,” he says, raising a silencing hand that you swat away before he can think it works. “i don’t need some special brew helping me sleep.”

   “no, you’ll just stay awake until you drop dead.”

   kaz grins, sharp as knives. “that’ll be the way to go, won’t it?”

   you shove his shoulder, suddenly furious. he looks over, still grinning, because kaz has always found your frustration amusing. he used to say you looked like a chipmunk who just got their nuts stolen.

    “for someone so smart,” you hiss, “you’re pretty stupid.”

   “because i won’t indulge in your famous sleep remedy?”

   “because you’ll let yourself suffer before asking for help.”

    his smile fades. “i only ask certain people for help, y/n. it’s not my fault those people keep leaving.”

    your heart drops; there he goes again with the impersonal little jabs, knowing he’s cutting you so, so deep. you don’t even humour him with a response, instead quickening your pace until you begin to feel like he isn’t even there.

    but that’s impossible, because he’s kaz brekker. he’s yours. even when he truly isn’t there, it’s like he’s walking right beside you, and you’re beginning to get very annoyed by the attachment. it’s not fair on you, and it’s not fair on kaz, but neither of you seem able to help it.

   you continue walking until the cold gets a little too much. then you head back to the palace in silence. 

----

    final meal of the day. you will make sure it’s not poisoned, and then you will go to bed.

    kaz is there, as per usual. the king and queen don’t even act shocked any more, simply welcoming him into the dining hall. oftentimes, he’ll stroll in by your side, his cane clicking against the marble and that smug little smile playing on his face. you always ignore him, even though the king says it’s disrespectful to do so. 

   tonight, you do just that. you take your seat beside the king, gather up his food and start the process. the beef is smothered in gravy, making the scent test a little difficult, but you give it a go anyway, because it’s protocol by now. 

   kaz watches from afar, one finger pressed to his lips. he’s lounging back like he’s comfortable, like sitting in a palace is what he does every day. his eyes are narrowed, focused.

    you pop the beef into your mouth and chew; nothing.

   you move onto the potatoes. nothing.

    finally, you dip your fork into the sweetcorn and raise it to your lips.

    kaz slaps the fork from your hand. he makes no noise. one minute he is sat at the head of the table, and the next he is by your side, grabbing your shoulders and pulling you from your seat.

   the queen shrieks as the fork flies directly at her, sweetcorn and all. a glass of wine tips over when kaz pulls you to your feet, your knee slamming against the underside of the table. palace guards run inside, but none of them know what to do - nobody in the room shouldn’t be there, and so they stand by the door, glancing at each other.

   your eyes, however, are trained on kaz.

   “what. the. fuck?” you hiss under your breath as the king tends to his startled wife.

   kaz meets your eyes dead on. “you really need to get better at your job.” he grabs your arm and starts for the door. the king hollers after him, demanding to know what is going on, but kaz pays him no attention, and you have no idea why you’re not fighting any of this. your heart is hammering in your chest at a million miles per hour, and you have so many questions, but it’s just reflex by now to trust kaz. 

    he drags you through the halls until reaching his room, where he pushes open the door and leads you inside. it is only then, when it is just the two of you, that you come to your senses, replaying that scene over and over in your head.

   you whirl around, yanking your arm from his grip so harshly that you stumble back. “what the hell was that, kaz?”

    “how much training did they actually give you before throwing you in to risk your life everyday?”

   “why do you care?”

   he starts pulling his tie loose, not even looking at you. “just tell me.”

   you fold your arms over your chest, trying desperately to keep your attention away from the way his gloved fingers tug and pull at the knot on his tie. “i did a course at the start where i could identify all the different types of poisons.”

   he quirks an eyebrow. “that all?”

   “it was enough.”

   “if it was enough, y/n, you would have noticed the soft spots in the sweetcorn.”

    your head snaps up. soft spots?

   he hums, despite you saying nothing in response. “wilde yolk makes food go soft in certain places. it also kills people in about ten seconds if consumed in even the tiniest amount.” he looks up, flicking his tie off completely. “did you not learn that in your course?”

   you bite your lip and look away. you were so distracted at that dinner table these days, focusing mostly on kaz brekker at the end of the table. you had no idea he was examining your food just as much as you should have been. you had no idea he was keeping an eye out for you.

    “so is this experience enough to get you to move back to the barrel?”

   your eyes snap up. he’s staring right at you. he doesn’t even look fazed by his question.

   and that makes you so, so angry. in seconds, you have gone from grateful to furious; only kaz can elicit that response from you.

   you step back, glaring. “so that’s what this is then? you came all the way here to drag me back to the barrel?”

     “well, no. i came here to get inej help, but she seems to be healing up pretty well with all the goods your people are giving her.” he shrugs, bottom lip protruding. “so i thought i’d try my hand at this.”

     “you are unbelievable.”

   kaz raises a brow. “are you getting mad at me?”

   “you are unbelievable!” you want to throw something at him. you want to break down and cry. you kind of want to go with him. “it’s like you haven’t listened to a word i’ve said. are you that self-centred, kaz?”

    “you know i am.”

    you close your eyes, trying to steady your breathing. maybe you’re overreacting. maybe you really are better off in the barrel, where you were born and raised, where you learned everything you ever knew. but here, with kaz being the one to drag you back - it reminds you so harshly that you’re his. you are his, and that is all anyone will ever see you as, and that thought. . . you don’t know how to feel about that thought.

     “this isn’t the life for you, y/n,” he continues. “you know it isn’t. once the barrel has you, it doesn’t let you go. we’ve all learned that the hard way.”

   “is that what you are?” you spit. “the hard way?”

   he shrugs. “you should be grateful it’s me and not someone worse.”

   “there is no one worse, kaz.”

   his lips twitch, the only sign that your words have actually struck a nerve. “you mean that, do you?”

   “don’t act like you’re the good guy. you know you’re evil. you’re proud of it! that’s why i had to leave. that’s why i’m in here risking my life every single fucking day! i wanted to get away from you!”

   and oh, saints, this isn’t going how you wanted it to go. the words are spilling from your mouth before you can stop them, mind racing too quick for your mouth to catch up. his face continues falling with every word, but you don’t stop. 

    “saints, kaz, when are you ever going to grow the fuck up? you walk around pretending you have everything under control, that you own the place, but you’re nothing - nothing - without the rest of us. you would be dead twenty times over if it wasn’t for that little crew of yours, the people you have under your god damn thumb.” you step forward, teeth gritted. “kaz dirtyhands brekker can’t even take his own fucking gloves off.”

    “is that what you want?” he steps closer, so close your chests are almost touching. his face is red, a line of sweat glittering upon his upper lip that only ever shows itself when he’s furious, out of his mind with anger. “you want the gloves to come off? fine.”

   and then he plucks the gloves from his hands and throws them on the floor.

    his hands. the hands you have seen only twice in the years you have known him, the hands that have never touched your bare skin. suddenly they are in full view, free reign to do whatever you want with them, but all you can do is step back, one hand covering your mouth as you try and process what you’ve said, what kaz has done, how the situation could have taken such a harsh, grim turn.

    but kaz isn’t finished. kaz is never finished. 

    “is this what you want, y/n?” he demands. “you need me to bear myself completely for you to believe i’m in love with you? or is this not enough?”

   “kaz-”

    “what else is it going to take, huh? tell me.”

   “kaz, i’m-”

   “what about this?”

   he’s crazy. he’s crazy, and making mistakes, and you know this because he reaches forward and cups your face in his bare hands, flesh against flesh. shock ricochets through you, eyes widening as kaz lets out an anguished groan, his own eyes slipping closed. you feel his fingers trembling upon your skin.

   you wrench away from him, gasping.

    he immediately spins around, clutching his hands to his chest. he groans low in his throat, pressing his head against the wall. sweat trickles down the back of his neck, disappearing beneath his collar. you catch a single tear run down his cheek that he can’t wipe away because then his fingers will be touching his skin, and he hates that. it kills him. you know it does.

    you rush forward, placing a hand safely on his jacket-covered shoulder. his breathing is ragged and shaky.

   “kaz,” you pant. “oh god, kaz, i’m so sorry. i’m so, so sorry. why did you do that?” you whirl around frantically. “your gloves. where are your gloves?”

   he doesn’t reply. you’re talking to yourself at this point. you spot his gloves on the floor and grab them, immediately handing them back without so much as a brush of your fingertips against his. he’s hurried and distressed when he tugs them back on, clenching his fist over and over again, as if to ensure his hands are safely hidden beneath the leather.

   he doesn’t turn around. you stand behind him, one hand pressed to your chest, eyes swimming in tears you didn’t even feel rising to the surface.

   “kaz,” you whisper. “i’m. . . i didn’t mean. . .”

   “you got what you wanted, didn’t you?” he mumbles, straightening up. “i’m not asking you to return to the barrel with me so you can serve me, or whatever you think this is. i’m asking you to return so i can have you there. so we can be together again.” he glances over his shoulder. “as it should be.”

   you stare at him, wanting to respond, wanting to tell him to go to hell, but you can’t lie. never before have you been able to look kaz in the eye and lie, and maybe that’s why you say nothing. he’s right in every sense - you and him are meant to be by each other’s side, no matter what. barrel born and raised, nobody understands you quite like he does.

   but admitting that, throwing away every barrier you have worked so hard to put up . . . you can’t do it.

    kaz waits a moment longer before laughing half-heartedly, sounding more exhausted than anything else. he lowers his head, black hair falling in his face before he swipes it out of the way, looks at you and says, “get out.”

     “kaz-”

   “stop saying my name.” he turns, tossing his tie onto the bed. “get. out. inej and i will be gone tomorrow.”

    you swallow thickly, pushing away the tears. and then you do as he said, because standing in his presence for much longer is going to send you into a spiral you don’t think you’ll be able to crawl out of again. you’ve been down that road before, and it took everything in you not to be consumed.

    ----

    “why do you look like you’ve been crying?” inej asks. she’s sat up now, a tray of soup perched on her lap. the colouring has come back to her skin, and she stands up whenever she wants to. whatever the palace medics did for her is working wonders, which you suppose is one thing you should be grateful for.

    you lean over and dip a slice of bread in her soup. 

   “are you checking if it’s been poisoned?” inej jokes, and when you don’t respond, she sighs. “you and kaz have a fight?”

    you wince, which is answer enough.

   “what about this time?”

   “he wants me to go back to the barrel with you.”

    inej pauses, eyes still cast to her soup. you look at her, stomach curling in sudden realisation.

   “wait,” you say. “did you know that was his plan this entire time?”

   “no,” she replies, though she looks sheepish. “i genuinely was sick. kaz just. . . came along for the ride when he heard you were here.” she looks up and groans. “you can’t act surprised, y/n. what were you expecting? for him to just walk out and leave you here?”

   “that would have been the right thing to do, yes.”

   “well,  you know kaz better than that. use your brain.” she waves a hand in your direction. “pass me another slice of bread and tell me about this argument.”

   you don’t want to. all day you have been thinking about the feel of his hands on your face, his flesh against your own, the anguished groan ripped from his throat. he put himself through that to prove - what? that he loves you? that’s what he said, but it was only a few days prior he was claiming what you and him had was nothing. it was forgotten, and you were happy about that for the briefest moment. if kaz moved on, you could too. 

    but then he took the gloves off, and it was just. . . messed up again. you were left confused and guilty and pining, and you hated yourself for it. it was as if all that hard work you had put in to forget about kaz had been thrown out the window - trust kaz to come in and ruin everything.

    “i can see what you’re thinking, you know,” says inej suddenly.

   “can you?”

     “take it from me,” she says. “kaz is never going to get over you. he’s never going to let you go. he’s never going to stop trying for you. he’s a stubborn bastard, and a stubborn bastard is even worse when they’re in love - which kaz is. disastrously, madly in love.”

    “he said we were nothing.”

    “he’s a stubborn and prideful bastard.”

    you close your eyes, heart thumping. “i don’t know what to do, inej.”

   “well, do you love him back?”

   your eyes fly open. “what kind of question is that?”

   she shrugs. “an obvious one, but i want to know the answer.”

    you know the answer. your brain screams it at you. you have felt the answer in your bones every day since you left the barrel, and yet speaking it aloud feels like a betrayal of yourself from yourself.

    so you look away, and as inej always claims, she can see exactly what you’re thinking.

    a soft chuckle slips past her lips. “the barrel never leaves a person, y/n. and apparently, neither does kaz brekker.”

    “what are you suggesting?”

   inej shrugs. “kaz and i are leaving for ketterdam in the morning. there’s definitely room for a third person.”

----

   you don’t sleep that night. neither does kaz.

   you can hear him pacing back and forth in his room, no doubt replaying the days events over and over in his mind in the same way you are. his hands against your skin, his eyes piercing your own, those words he spoke that left you tingling all over.

    even now, laying in bed, you can’t get over what he said. i love you. that was the jidst of it, and though you had heard that confession from him a few times in the past, it was different this time around. it was kaz trying to prove himself, which he never did before. if someone didn’t take kaz at face value, he wouldn’t bother. 

    and you have to admit, hearing him say those words was like a shot to the chest. they are the very words that have been on the tip of your tongue for months now, spoken only in dreams when you finally allow yourself to sleep. you can say them to no one else - just kaz. always, always just kaz.

   and maybe this realisation is the reason you find yourself getting dressed at six in the morning. maybe this realisation is the reason you pack all your things into the ruck sack you came to the palace with. maybe this realisation is the reason you tip-toe to the courtyard, avoiding the eyes of the staff who all look at you like you’re some kind of prisoner escaping your cell.

    it’s still dark. the grass is wet beneath your thin shoes, the jacket you have pulled on doing little to protect you from the icy winds coming from the ocean just feet away from the palace’s front door. hovering on the banks is a boat, a boat you recognise as The Mast, one of the many boats kaz has won from different people around ketterdam.

   you nearly cry at the sight of it.

   you don’t waste time waiting on kaz and inej - you don’t want to have this discussion with either of them until you’re safely on the water, until you can’t change your mind. 

   you clamber onto the boat, giving a sheepish smile to the stunned crew member - Daryl, you think he’s called - as he stares at you approaching. he offers you a hand when you finally reach the deck, his eyes never leaving your own.

    “morning,” you say. “i’m y/n.”

   “i know,” daryl replies, before tipping his hat. “it’s wonderful to have you back on board.”

    you smile awkwardly, unsure how to respond; how much do the crew actually know about what happened between you and the crows? how many people bore witness to that god awful aftermath?

   you decide not to wait around to hear the answer. instead, you tell daryl you’re going down to the cabins, and he doesn’t argue. you disappear beneath the deck, finding the first room with a bed and immediately claiming it as your own; despite the lack of sleep, you are not tired in the slightest. you can’t get kaz out of your head, how he is going to react when the boat eventually docks and he sees you strolling off of it, greeted by that rancid ketterdam air. back in the barrel.

    you lay down on the bed and stare at the ceiling. you will fall asleep eventually. you’ll trick yourself into it.

    and then the door opens.

    your eyes snap open with it; you must have fallen asleep eventually. groggily, you lift your head and look at the intruder - and your heart immediately falls.

   “kaz.”

    he looks crazed, hair stuck up, eyes wild. behind him stands inej, grinning from ear to ear, though the minute kaz steps into the room, she disappears into the shadows, leaving you and dirtyhands alone.

    his eyes never leave yours as he approaches. he marches to your bedside, grabs your hand and pulls you up.

   “kaz-”

    he shoves you against the wall, gun pressed to your temple. you inhale sharply, though you can’t claim to be surprised or scared. you stare into his eyes, watching his own trace your features, looking for any sign that you are here in bad company.

    “kaz,” you whisper, because it’s always his name that fights past your lips. “it’s me. i’m going home.”

    his grip slackens. the gun crashes to the floor, and before you can say anything, he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into him. you are careful to rest your head upon his shoulder, not touching his flesh, but feeling him nonetheless. tears spring to your eyes, dribbling down the bridge of your nose and soaking the shoulder of his fancy suede jacket - one he stole from the kings wardrobe, you notice.

    but you don’t pull away, afraid to go without his touch for another second.

    “is this what you want?” he asks, voice muffled by your hair. “is this really what you’ve decided?”

    “yes.” you pull away, hands sliding down his arms. “you’re right, kaz. the barrel is . . . it’s a shit hole, but it’s where i belong. it’s all i know. and you and me. . . we have to do this thing together.”

    he narrows his eyes. “what thing?”

   “everything.”

   the corners of his mouth twitch. you can imagine kissing those lips, drawing him close and embracing in that way lovers often do. however, you’re content, happy even, with the way things are. you hold his gloved hands, and he says he loves you. you confide in him, and he confides in you, and sometimes you fight like children, but in the end, he will have your back no matter what.

    “everything,” he repeats. “yeah.” he slips his gloved hands into the sleeve of your jacket, tracing his fingers along your crow tattoo, the one he matched, the one everyone matched when they decided to let the barrel take them over. you shiver, biting your lower lip. “you still have it.”

    “i could hardly get rid of it,” you reply. kaz looks up, and you sigh. “i would never get rid of it, kaz. no matter what.”

     he nods, rolling your sleeve back down. he pulls it over your wrist, covering your fingers before leaning down and pressing a kiss to the soft, rain soaked fabric. 

    he looks up at you again. “yes. no matter what.” 

[ibijau]

Futures Past pt6 / On AO3

Lan Xichen comes to Yunping City with a secret mission in his heart. Things don't quite go according to plan.

Huang Quiling bowed deeply and thanked Lan Qiren and Jiang Fengmian once more for their help dealing with that gang of fierce corpses, which had escaped from the Burial Mounds of Yiling and made their way to Yunping City. He had explained, when they'd arrived, that he’d asked two Great Sects for their help because it had seemed to him that anything concerning the Burial Mounds required close attention. It had made sense at the moment, but Lan Xichen now realised that above all else Yunping Huang was a very small, very young sect that just didn’t have the manpower to deal with such a threat.

Not that the threat had been too great, in the end. The fierce corpses had been dealt with quite easily, just like in Lan Xichen’s memories. More easily, perhaps, since he’d remembered exactly how and where to strike them for a quick victory. For that reason, young Jiang Cheng had been particularly impressed by his performance, and Nie Huaisang even more so.

Nie Huaisang who shouldn’t have been there.

While his uncle and sect leader Jiang discussed with sect leader Huang about precautions to be taken, and what to do with the remains of those fierce corpses, Lan Xichen allowed his gaze to drift toward Nie Huaisang. The younger boy was standing on his own, near the lined up corpses, observing them with bored curiosity as if he’d never seen fierce corpses before and wasn’t too impressed by the sight. 

It might well have been the case. Lan Xichen knew that Nie Mingjue had rarely managed to drag his brother on Night Hunts, and always had to select very easy preys even when he did… not that Nie Huaisang ever did much when he was brought on Night Hunts anyway. Lan Xichen doubted he’d ever so much as subdued a small ghost, at an age when other boys already had killed several monsters and conducted exorcisms.

And yet, as soon as he’d heard about this Night Hunt near Yunping City, Nie Huaisang had begged to come.

Lan Xichen had been so stunned by the request that he'd almost refused on principle. Night Hunts were serious business, even one he knew would go smoothly, and idle observers always brought trouble. Besides, Lan Xichen had big plans for that trip to Yunping City, and knew that agreeing to let Nie Huaisang come meant he’d be put in charge of the other boy, which would disrupt his efforts to find and recruit Meng Yao into Gusu Lan.

The very last thing Lan Xichen wanted was for Nie Huaisang to be following him around while he tried to change that part of history. Partly because he dreaded anything that would bring together those two future enemies, but mostly because Nie Mingjue would never forgive him for taking his precious little brother into the brothel district.

Lan Xichen had wanted to refuse.

He should have refused.

He hadn’t, and even pushed against his uncle’s reluctance when Lan Qiren said, not without wisdom, that it might be a dangerous Night Hunt for someone of such a low level. But Lan Xichen had insisted, knowing as his uncle did not that the fierce corpses would reach the borders of Yunping City already weakened and too disoriented by their long walk to put up much resistance.

Besides, Lan Xichen hadn’t expected Nie Huaisang to do much except stand around and allow others to deal with the threat.

He’d been right. Nie Huaisang had stayed close to Lan Xichen the whole time, having apparently decided that this was the safest place to be.

That, along with the request to come to this Night Hunt, was giving Lan Xichen an impression of progress. That was something he desperately needed, he realised while watching Nie Huaisang wander among their group. The younger boy had proven surprisingly reluctant to the concept of making friends. Or at least, he’d been resisting all of Lan Xichen’s efforts, and showed no interest in the other guest disciples either, while developing an apparent obsession with Su She, of all people.

A mutual obsession, judging by the way they were both always seeking each other. A dangerous obsession, Lan Xichen thought, and so when his uncle had wondered about taking Su She with them, Lan Xichen had been forced to disagree.

They didn’t need a traitor in their midst.

Truly, if Lan Xichen had had the power, he’d have ordered Su She away already, even if it was unfair when he hadn’t yet committed any crimes. Still, since he intended to bring Meng Yao to the Cloud Recesses and keep him there, then Su She couldn't be kept around. It would be better to avoid…

“Lan gongzi, did I do something bad?” Nie Huaisang cried out, suddenly appearing in front of Lan Xichen, startling him. “You’ve been looking at me for a while and you’re frowning… I’m really sorry I wasn’t much use at all, you know! I swear I didn’t mean to drop my sabre like that, and then it would have been dangerous to get it back!”

Lan Xichen smiled, and tried not to wonder if Nie Huaisang had dropped his weapon on purpose.

Tried and failed. It was hard to not suspect Nie Huaisang of secretly scheming every time he cried out about being stupid, every time he failed at some easy task.

“You’ll have to try to train a little harder,” Lan Xichen gently scolded. “You could have gotten hurt. You’re lucky there were others to protect you, but it might not always be the case.”

“I’d never go anywhere dangerous without someone strong,” Nie Huaisang retorted with an insolent grin. “Or anywhere dangerous at all, if I can help it. I thought maybe Night Hunts would be more fun without my brother shouting at me, but in the end this was still scary and boring. I don’t think I’ll try again.”

Only years of good education prevented Lan Xichen from rolling his eyes. “I hope Nie gongzi realises that these things aren’t about having fun,” he said. “It is about helping those in need, and defeating evil before it can cause harm to innocents.”

“Is it?” Nie Huaisang asked, looking sincerely surprised. “I thought that was just something people said. But I guess Lan gongzi is such an honest person, of course you’d really believe that, right?”

Lan Xichen tensed.

It was amazing, really, how Nie Huaisang always found exactly the most awful thing to say, and to make something like ‘honest’ sound like an insult.

“What’s going to happen now?” Nie Huaisang asked, blissfully unaware he’d said anything wrong. “It’s still pretty early in the day, do you think we’ll have a chance to visit Yunping City a bit? It'd be really neat if we could. I even brought my pocket money in case I see something nice.”

So that was why Nie Huaisang had wanted to come, Lan Xichen realised, instantly relaxing. For tourism, and to get a break from lessons. It was such a simple and innocent reason, perfectly fitting the sort of person Nie Huaisang appeared to be, but Lan Xichen had been too taken by his future memories of a ruthless manipulator. Perhaps it hadn’t all been a comedy. Perhaps until his brother’s death, Nie Huaisang had really been just silly. Just an ordinary, lazy teenager whose only agenda was to make as few efforts as possible.

It gave Lan Xichen some comfort. He would have been blind in that future he wanted to avoid, but perhaps that was because for the longest of times there really had been nothing to see.

“We need to do some clean-up first,” Lan Xichen explained, gesturing toward the defeated fierce corpses. “But I’m sure that won’t take too long. We might have the afternoon off at least, if shufu and Jiang zongzhu wish to talk with Huang zongzhu.”

They would, as Lan Xichen already knew. In fact, they had so much to say that the Lan and Jiang wouldn’t start heading home until the following afternoon. It should give Lan Xichen plenty of time to look for Meng Yao and find a way to bring him to Gusu, so he could be prevented from ever joining Lanling Jin.

Somehow.

“Will this take long?” Nie Huaisang asked, glancing toward the city.

“It’ll take less time if you help,” Lan Xichen suggested. “You’re here anyway, so you might as well. And I’m sure your brother will be proud of you if he hears you did your part.”

The advice caused Nie Huaisang to grimace and sigh, as if being asked to participate was the very worst thing he’d ever been ordered to do. In the end, he was more of a hindrance than anything, until Lan Qiren told him to get out of the way. That order he obeyed quite efficiently. 

When all the fierce corpses had been purified, their group headed back into town, toward Yunping Huang's home where they had all been invited to stay. It wasn't a very large place, so while Lan Qiren and Jiang Fengmian were offered their own rooms to freshen up, the juniors had to share one room between all of them, Lan and Jiang mixed together.

Several basins were offered to them to clean a bit, as well as some light collations to help them last until the next meal. Some of the boys were more interested in chatting than in getting clean. The Jiang boys in particular seemed quite talkative, blabbering between themselves about their great deeds, talking about how much they'd boast to Wei Wuxian about the great Night Hunt he'd missed out on, and even trying to start conversations with the Lan disciples to comment on their technique. 

Even Jiang Cheng, who Lan Xichen remembered from his future as severe and joyless, was chatting with enthusiasm. He also kept glancing toward Lan Xichen, as if wishing to say something but lacking the nerves to actually do it. Lan Xichen found it a little amusing to think that the terrifying future Sandu Shengshou had once been shy, but didn't pay it much mind. 

He had a goal to accomplish while in Yunping City, and mingling with peers would have to wait. 

It did not take too long for Lan Xichen to clean up and be ready to head out again. As he prepared to do so, he stumbled upon his uncle who asked him whether he’d seen Nie Huaisang. It appeared that while everyone went to rest and freshen up, Nie Huaisang had left the house, and alone at that.

Although he tried his best to look suitably worried, Lan Xichen almost leaped from joy at the news. Nie Huaisang’s mischief gave him the perfect excuse to head out as well… and since none of the other juniors were done cleaning up, since the adults had much to discuss, Lan Xichen had no trouble at all arguing that he could go alone after his friend’s brother. He promised to be careful, and to bring back Nie Huaisang as soon as he found him. He’d have promised anything, really, and only felt mildly guilty for immediately heading in the direction where he thought Meng Shi’s brothel should stand.

Lan Xichen had not often come to Yunping City, in that future he remembered, and the town had not left a very big impression on him. On this present Night Hunt, he’d mostly been worried about supervising other juniors while his uncle discussed politics with the other two sect leaders. Then, on his second visit, Lan Xichen had been a prisoner, weakened and worried that after having been kidnapped by the man he had trusted the most, he might get murdered once he outlived his usefulness as a hostage. In such circumstances, in neither of his visits Lan Xichen had really paid attention to his surroundings. Adding to this the fact that Yunping City would change a good deal in the twenty years to come...

Lan Xichen got lost.

He got immensely lost, and realised, a little late, that he couldn’t ask for direction. He’d never learned the name of the brothel where Meng Shi worked, partly because he’d never thought to ask. Why would he have ever needed that information? Why ask a question that would only have upset his dear friend by reminding him of his origins?

Of course this wouldn’t have been a problem if there had only been one brothel in Yunping City.

There were many more than one brothel in the city, as Lan Xichen discovered when he reached the right neighbourhood. Wrong neighbourhood.

A neighbourhood.

Since it was only afternoon, there wasn’t too much activity going on, aside from the different brothels starting to get ready for the night, or welcoming a few special clients. Walking in the streets, Lan Xichen heard laughter coming from the buildings, and arguments as well. He found himself forced to mostly keep his eyes to the road in front of him, because looking up meant he risked catching a glimpse of a lady or young man in a partly undressed state, arguing from a window with someone in the street or just enjoying some fresh air. But of course, refusing to look up made it virtually impossible to try and recognise the building he was looking for.

After well over a shichen of aimless wandering, Lan Xichen felt himself fall into despair. This plan of his might not have been very well thought out, and he was well and truly lost now. If his uncle came looking for him and found him in such a place…

“Lan gongzi?” a squeaky voice called out, startling him. “What are you doing here?”

Lan Xichen turned, and found himself staring at Nie Huaisang.

It would have been hard to say, between the two of them, who was the most embarrassed one. Nie Huaisang certainly looked quite stunned, but perhaps also a little upset that he had cried out like that instead of escaping unseen. Lan Xichen had a feeling the younger boy wasn’t quite as lost as him.

“I was looking for you,” Lan Xichen explained. “And then I ended up here.”

Nie Huaisang let out a curse. “Damn, I thought I’d been more discreet than that,” he grumbled, confirming Lan Xichen’s suspicion. “Well, cat’s out of the bag, uh? I’m here because I figured I might buy some spring books without anyone breathing down my neck. So, uh, I’m quite well as you see, so you can go back. I’m sure I won’t be very long. Well, I hope. I’ve just got to find what I’m looking for.”

Lan Xichen couldn’t refrain a small smile upon hearing this. He knew, distantly, that Nie Huaisang had eventually become quite well known among guest disciples for having smuggled some spring books into the Cloud Recesses. Apparently, it was a hobby in which he was already quite invested, if he’d dared to venture alone in such a part of an unknown city.

“You really should head back to the Huang sect's home,” Lan Xichen gently scolded. “It’s getting late, and you might get in trouble.”

“I’m in trouble already since you found me,” Nie Huaisang muttered, nervously glancing around. “I’m… I’m not really finding what I want so far, so I’d like… please Lan gongzi, can you pretend you didn’t see me and let me look a little longer?”

“I promised I’d take you back as soon as I found you.” 

Lan Xichen paused, and considered the situation. It was obvious that Nie Huaisang wasn’t quite as uncomfortable as him in this place. Maybe if they walked together, Lan Xichen himself would feel more at ease, and even manage to actually look at the buildings surrounding them to try and recognise those that had been near that temple, twenty years in the future.

“Nie gongzi, if you must really stay here, then at the very least I should stay at your side to make sure you don’t get in trouble.”

Nie Huaisang startled so badly at the suggestion that he nearly tripped and fell. His face turned very pale, and he started fidgeting nervously with his sleeve. He hadn’t yet gotten into the habit of always carrying a fan, as he would during the following year, or else Lan Xichen knew Nie Huaisang would have opened such a fan and hidden behind it.

“Lan gongzi! This really isn’t a place for you!” Nie Huaisang squeaked.

“And it is one for you?”

Nie Huaisang grimaced. His face was turning grey with anguish, while his eyes looked red, as if he might cry.

“I’d really rather be alone, it’s too embarrassing if you’re here,” he whined miserable.

“You’re just here for spring books, right?” Lan Xichen asked, worried that the younger boy might have wanted to do more than merely look while in such a neighbourhood. “You’re not here to…”

“No!” Nie Huaisang urgently shouted. “No, I’m just here to… I just wanted to… I was…” He took a deep breath, and wiped his eyes with the back of his hands. “Lan gongzi, believe it or not, but I had no bad intentions at all. But something like this… how could I do it with you around? I just can’t… you’re too… And it’s getting late now, and it’ll be impossible to… ah, I messed this up, I really messed this up!”

He’d burst into tears, sobbing loudly and attracting the attention of a few passerbys. Lan Xichen knew he should have said something, tried to calm the other boy, but the sight of those tears, the tone of his voice, brought back unpleasant memories.

Lan Xichen found himself frozen, and unable to breathe.

Nie Huaisang had sounded, would have sounded the same all those times he’d come crying for help after the death of Nie Mingjue. The same pathetic tears, the same stuttering, all lies, all pretences.

Lan Xichen couldn’t breathe.

He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t…

“Lan gongzi?” he heard Nie Huaisang call to him, voice distant, as if coming through a thick wall. “Lan gongzi, are you unwell?”

Lan Xichen didn’t answer.

One needed air to speak, and he still couldn’t breathe.

He was feeling as if he might pass out from the lack of air, when the feeling of a burning hand on his own freezing one pulled him back to the present.

Lan Xichen took a deep, shaky breath, then another, and another, until he found himself in control again. The whole time Nie Huaisang held his hand, still sniffling and crying a few tears. His face was splotched with red, and his nose was runny, when Lan Xichen had always taken him to be the sort of person blessed enough to become more handsome with tears. Perhaps it meant this fit of crying was real, when other ones had been staged.

He couldn’t imagine the man Nie Huaisang would become holding anyone’s hand while they were unwell, nor indeed letting anyone’s discomfort distract from his own antics.

There was comfort to be found in that.

“Sorry, I sometimes have episodes like this,” Lan Xichen explained when he felt capable of speaking again. It hadn’t been the first time his other memories provoked an intense reaction, and he feared it wouldn’t be the last either. “I hope I didn’t worry you too much.”

“It was really scary,” Nie Huaisang said, squeezing his hand tight. “You looked like you were going to faint. Actually, you still don’t look too good.”

Lan Xichen didn’t feel so well, truth be told. He knew from experience he probably would be a little uneasy until he’d slept.

“I can’t leave you here alone,” he still insisted. “It could be dangerous.”

After glancing around at the now busier streets, Nie Huaisang sighed deeply. He let go of Lan Xichen’s hand and quickly wiped a few new tears.

“It’s too late, I don’t think I can do this,” he mumbled, sounding rather more emotional than he should have been about mere spring books. “I’d get in trouble now that the brothels are opening for the night. I’ll just… I don’t know. I really don’t know what I’ll do,” he sighed, and for a second Lan Xichen thought he was going to lose his breath again, until Nie Huaisang spoke again. “I can’t leave you on your own when you’re unwell, anyway. Da-ge would never forgive me. So let’s head back, and like that I can help you if you start feeling bad again.”

At some other time, Lan Xichen might have laughed, or at least smiled at the idea that Nie Huaisang could help him in any way. Whether he was a foolish boy or a scheming avenger, Nie Huaisang wasn’t one to help others.

But it was the other boy’s hand on his own that had called him back to the present, and Nie Huaisang certainly looked sincerely worried.

“Thank you, I think I’d like that,” Lan Xichen said. “I’m really sorry for ruining your fun.”

“It wasn’t much fun anyway,” Nie Huaisang replied as they started walking back toward the local sect. “And anyway, this is important too.”

Lan Xichen said nothing, a certain tiredness slowly creeping up inside him as a consequence of his moment of panic, but he smiled faintly.

Maybe he really was making progress with Nie Huaisang. And as for Meng Yao, there was always the following morning to try and find him.

Nie Huaisang was scolded by Lan Qiren when they returned to the Huang sect's dwellings, promised punishment, and ordered not to wander off again. He looked as if he might cry again, being talked down like this in front of everyone, but he just pinched his lips and nodded along, as if accepting he would be punished this harshly. It was not quite in character for him, since he usually was more the sort to argue and whine to get out of trouble, and he looked utterly depressed, almost as much as he would in a few years upon losing his brother.

If Lan Xichen hadn't been so exhausted by his moment of panic, he would have made a note of it and tried asking the younger boy what was wrong. As it was, he could barely stand anymore and had to excuse himself to go sleep before even having dinner. He thought his uncle looked a little disapproving, aware surely that such a simple Night Hunt shouldn't have tired him so… but Lan Xichen didn't care. All that mattered was sleep, so he could leave that day behind him. 

Sleep, however, brought less rest than Lan Xichen would have liked. He had nightmares throughout the night, though he couldn't remember them when he opened his eyes. He thought they'd had to do with Nie Huaisang and Meng Yao, perhaps also with Nie Mingjue, but he couldn't be quite sure.

He didn't want to remember those dreams. 

It wasn’t quite dawn when Lan Xichen woke up one final time. He quickly decided that he probably wouldn’t manage to go back to sleep, not when it might bring more nightmares. Instead he got up quietly and got dressed. As he did so his eyes scanned the room he shared with other juniors, and noticed that Nie Huaisang wasn’t present, his bed slept in but currently empty. Lan Xichen, who had wanted to meditate until the other Lan disciples awoke, changed his plans and instead went to look for Nie Huaisang. 

He didn’t have to go very far. Yunping Huang’s home wasn’t large, and there weren’t many places a guest might wander off. After checking at the door with the Huang disciple on watch duty, Lan Xichen learned that Nie Huaisang had indeed tried to go out only to be denied, and had been directed to the courtyard if he didn’t want to go back to bed. That was where Lan Xichen found the younger boy, sitting on a bench among some potted plants, restlessly moving his legs in small jerky movements and chewing on the skin around his nails hard enough to draw blood.

Lan Xichen walked closer, making sure to step a little harder than he normally would so Nie Huaisang would hear him coming. Even like this, Nie Huaisang appeared startled when he noticed he wasn’t alone anymore, and went completely still for a moment. He quickly recovered though, and without getting up bowed to Lan Xichen.

“Good morning, Lan gongzi. You’re up early, are you still unwell?”

“I’m much better. Thank you again for helping me yesterday. May I ask why you are up so early? I never took you for a morning person.”

“Well, I am, actually,” Nie Huaisang said, wringing his hands. “Early mornings are good for bird watching, you know. And I’m a night person too, because, well, there’s a lot of birds in the evening too. It’s the middle of the day I don’t like so much.”

Lan Xichen smiled, pleased that Nie Huaisang, for once, would speak to him so freely. He gestured at the bench. “May I sit with you?”

“You’re not scolding me for being awake when I shouldn’t be?”

“I’m awake too, how could I scold you?”

That answer appeared to satisfy Nie Huaisang, who motioned for Lan Xichen to sit. 

"I really should be sleeping, I know that," Nie Huaisang said, words shooting out of his mouth at high speed. "I tried, but I couldn't. And then I wanted to go for a walk, but I was told I can't, because the city has a curfew on because of those fierce corpses and also to avoid smugglers, and what if I got in trouble, or someone attacked me because I look like I have money, and also your uncle said I'm punished so I wouldn't be able to go out anyway. But I'm really bored, and I really need to go into Yunping, it's very necessary."

Nie Huaisang paused to take a breath, then resumed speaking at a more resonable speed. 

"Lan gongzi, do you think you might help me go out? I have something really important I have to do, you see. I think I'll be in huge trouble if I don't do it. And if you help me…" 

"What is it you need to do?" 

"Can't say," Nie Huaisang muttered, instantly closing off.

"Then you have to understand I can't…" 

"I can't say what it is, but I can say it's important," Nie Huaisang corrected, starting to chew on his nails again. "It's very important, and I'll owe you a favour if you help me. Please, Lan gongzi? I swear I won't do anything bad, please believe me!" 

His hands clenching on the fabric over his knees, Lan Xichen felt on the verge of another attack of breathlessness. If only Nie Huaisang had come to him in that horrible future, if he'd asked his help then… 

Before panic could really seize him, Nie Huaisang grabbed the hem of his sleeve and pulled on it like a child demanding attention. 

"Please Lan gongzi, please help me and I'll do anything you want!" 

"Anything?" Lan Xichen asked in a voice he barely recognised, as if he'd already started struggling to breathe. Nie Huaisang didn't appear to notice, and nodded eagerly.

If Lan Xichen had slept better, if he hadn't had so much on his mind, he might have told Nie Huaisang that his help didn't need to be bought, or invoked a friendship that didn't exist yet between them. But he was only half awake still, and there was in fact one thing he wanted from Nie Huaisang, something which had caused him immense distress and worry for weeks now.

"What if I asked that you distance yourself from Su She?" 

Instantly Nie Huaisang let go of his sleeve and jumped to his feet, his face twisting into a mask of contempt. 

"Then I guess I'll just do this on my own, if you're going to be like that! I can't believe… well, maybe I can,” Nie Huaisang laughed darkly. “In the end, Lan gongzi is no better than others, eh? You hold just the same ideas as the rests! It's fine. I don't need your help, if you only give it upon such a condition!" 

Lan Xichen stood up as well, and grabbed Nie Huaisang by the wrist to stop him from leaving. 

"I didn't mean that," he lied, terrified he might have ruined all his efforts already. Terrified, also, by the apparent strength of Nie Huaisang’s attachment to Su She. "I was just trying to tease you, but I'm not very good at it. I thought…” He hesitated, looking for a decent excuse only to panic again. “Isn't it common to tease people on their crush?" 

"My what?" Nie Huaisang sputtered, so shocked he stopped struggling to free himself. "He's not… I'm not… I don't think? I mean, I do like him a lot, I guess..." 

Seeing the other boy's growing confusion, Lan Xichen winced. From watching other boys his age make friends, he had assumed it was normal to tease on such a matter, and that the accepted reaction was always to vehemently deny having a crush on anyone, let alone on another boy. He had hoped that the unexpected accusation would confuse Nie Huaisang enough to make him forget his anger.

If instead, after having forced the encounter with Su She, he ended up causing a romance between the two… 

"Huaisang, I swear I'll help you sneak outside if you forget I said anything," Lan Xichen pleaded. "I was just… I'm still a little tired and I said nonsense, please forget it." 

Nie Huaisang kept silent a moment more, still thinking over that matter, before turning his attention back to Lan Xichen. It seemed to the older boy that something had changed in Nie Huaisang, who now stood a little stiffer and watched him with even less warmth than before.

“I’ll take Lan gongzi’s offer,” he said coldly. “The second offer, to be clear. But I have to say, I don’t think you should make jokes. You’re really not good at this.”

On that matter, at least, they could agree, Lan Xichen thought as they both sat again, and silently waited for a more reasonable hour to head into Yunping City. He was starting to realise that making friends was a much harder endeavour than he’d ever expected.

Lan Xichen had never tried to make anyone like him, be it in this life or the other one he remembered. His uncle had always taught him that only inferior men needed to go out of their way to obtain the good will of others, while men of true quality would let their actions speak for them and find peers of equal rank in that manner. Lan Xichen strove to be polite to people regardless of rank or affection, because being disrespectful to others was also the mark of an inferior man, but he had never tried to cross the distance between himself and others, convinced that friendship would bloom naturally where it was meant to do so.

Looking back on it, Lan Xichen realised that the man he would have become only ever had two friends, and very few people that could be described as more than acquaintances. Three friends, if one included his younger brother… but it left something of a sour taste in Lan Xichen’s mouth to think that he needed to include Lan Wangji in such a list. Most people, he was aware, didn't need to count family among their list of friends.

What bothered him the most, though, was that his future self hadn’t even minded. After everything that had happened, he had counted himself lucky to even have a friend like Jin Guangyao, and had been willing to close his eyes to anything that might have displeased him about the other man. Lan Xichen had convinced himself that he didn’t need to become close to others, all because becoming close to others meant exposing himself to the pain of losing them, should they die.

He hadn't been very good at dealing with loss.

Lan Xichen didn’t want that part of his future, either, he realised. Being an accomplice to crimes was awful, certainly, but this bothered him as well. He had no interest in becoming that lonely man who hid everything behind a smile of empty warmth.

Sadly, that meant he needed to learn to make friends

Judging by the side glares Nie Huaisang was throwing his way now and again, and the way the younger boy kept moving aside so there was as much space as possible between them, as if Lan Xichen's very proximity were now intolerable to him, making friends wasn't going to be easy.

[i-see-you-now-you-see-me]

Anyways, couldn’t let crazy Hendery’s personalities be the end of DYVLONY right? Here is the High Court Magistrate’s turn :)

Mending souls

(oneshot, can be read separate, included in DYVLONY series)

Pairing: Xiao Dejun (Wayv) x virgin Reader (Y/N) pseudo Anna

Word count : approx 7.5k, prepare to read under the cut

Warnings: not our shiny Xiaojun, but a bit darker version with a problematic need for all things neat, and hate for all kinds of body fluids... loss of virginity, first time sex (safe sex), some form of punishment, Xiao being a bit yandere. 

Bill.

Another bill.

Another bill.

When does this end?

You thought to yourself.

College bills won’t pay themselves and the job you’d gotten at a local pub didn’t pay much either, the tips were mainly your income. So, when a job opportunity presented itself in a form of middle- aged man, you didn’t think twice, before agreeing.

A couple of dates every week, with a random stranger, but you’ll get paid for it, sounded ok, at that time. The job description however scared you a bit.

An escort.

A man or woman who is hired to go with someone to a social event- often used from escort agency services/ a person or group accompanying another to give protection or as a courtesy.

-Prostitution? – your college roommate Lea asked.

-No, not at all, - you stated, - I don’t have to sleep with anyone for this, not unless I want to, this company guarantees that I will be safe, they always provide a driver from their own company, who is near enough next to us all the time.

-Still sounds like prostitution, - Lea was a realist, she would say it for what it is.

-I suppose it is some kind of prostitution, I will be giving my time for the other person, but it is worth it, like the man sad, I would be able to pay college tuition, and we’ll have some extra left over, maybe we can both afford something then.

Lea sighed. Her job didn’t pay much either, and you both were struggling, but this was it, a job Is still a job.

-Fine, - she stated, - just be careful, alright?

You nodded and got dressed. Tonight, you will be a dance/music major, and you will accompany a businessman to a simple dinner. Yet, when your driver reached the destination as a five- star hotel, you felt under- dressed.

-What? – you sucked in a breath, - they told me it’s a small dinner.

-It is miss, - your driver announced, - only up to fifty people.

-Fifty? – your head was spinning, yet your nerves were somehow calm. You were not Y/N tonight.

You were Anna, art student, a confident dancer, who looks gorgeous in her outfit. Your driver nodded that it was the time, and soon you were inside the hotel, greeted by an elderly man, who was your partner for the evening.

-Miss Anna, I presume, - he extended his arm to reach for your hand, and kissed the top of your palm, - you look beautiful. My name is Sir Arthur de Clemence, I am a sponsor for many students over the country, and I am trying to attach more people to my fond tonight. See all these people, - he mentioned to the hall, - they have millions to spare, and with your help, I might be able to do that.

-Yes, sir, - you nodded, - I will do my best.

He nodded and you both headed inside.

A small talk with nearly every guest was your first talk. Flashing your best smile, you turned the conversations into- how small artists help locals survive in smaller towns and so on. It really was working, and by the end of the night, Sir Clemence was able to snatch at least thirty people on his side, all thanks to you.

When driving back after the event, your phone buzzed.

Your jaw dropped. You had just earned an amount that ended with five zeros in your bank account.

You ran into your apartment to find Lea asleep on the couch.

-We did it!!! – you ran towards her and jumped on top of her.

-What a, - Lea woke up from her slumber.

-We did it!!! – you shouted again, and Lea was wide awake now. You showed her your bank statement, and you both started jumping like kids.

-Oh my god!!! Oh my god!!! – she screamed.

-We have got to celebrate this!!!- you stated, and Lea nodded.

Weeks after weeks, the money kept going, your alter ego- Anna was who ever she had to be. A pro gamer, a barista, a literature student, even a stripper once. She was someone who was fearless, who would help you get through everything. To accommodate with your changes- you wore wigs, glasses, your lipstick was different for every person you played.

And after every couple of weeks, you and Lea got to celebrate.

-Did you hear? – Lea asked you, - Wanderlust club is throwing a party, wanna go?

You nodded. It was one of the coolest clubs there was, everyone wanted to get inside, and tonight you would.

As expected, it was crowded, people dancing, chilling at the tables, you both popped a champagne, drinking it ever so slowly, to feel the bubbles sliding down your throat.

-Is this what feeling posh is like? – Lea asked, you nodded.

-It’s just the beginning, - you stated, - I will be able to pay off my loan in a couple of weeks, and then we will get yours too, - you smiled, Lea nearly cried.

-You would do that for me? – she re asked.

-Always, you are my best friend Lea, I would do anything for you.

-Ah, you are making me cry now, - you both laughed and headed to the dance floor.

One moment you were next to Lea, and the next, grinding against someone’s crotch, feeling their hands around your waist. Once turned around you noticed it was an ex-partner of yours, who you accompanied a few weeks back.

-Mr. Roger? – you asked. – what are you doing here?

-Can we speak in private? – he invited, and you followed.

Once outside, he let you to the alley behind the club.

-What is this about? – you asked, - I don’t quite understand.

-Anna, - he started, - I have missed you.

His hands went to grab onto your waist.

-Mr. Roger, you should not be here, - hell, he was not supposed to find you, all your meetings had been confidential, without your real identity and all. – you should not be seeing me like this.

-I had to find you, - he stated, - I…. have been going crazy without you.

He reached for you once again, and you stepped back.

-This is not right, - you said, - I am getting back.

As you walked, his hands grabbed you again, pressing you against his torso, you kneaded him with your elbow and tried to get out of his grasp.

-Hey, - someone shouted, - what’s going on here?

You recognized him as the bartender from the club. He had a towel on his shoulder, and he was carrying a bin bag.

-This is not your business dude, better leave, - Mr. Roger spoke.

-He is attacking me, - you said, - get me away from him and if necessary, call the police, would you?

The bartender led you inside, giving you a glass of water and a pill.

-This will reduce your dizziness from the alcohol, - he stated and you drank without hesitation.

-Tastes funny, - you said, and somehow your words were getting slurpy, as if your mouth was filled with your saliva, -what is thisssss…. – you tried to ask.

-I am sorry, - he said, - I truly am.

You had no idea what had happened. Once unconscious, your clutch-bag had been taken away from you, and you were lying next to few other unconscious bodies, waiting for couple more, so the task would be completed.

Michel sighed, rubbing his eyes. This was wrong what they were doing.

His friend Jack on the other hand, had no issues with this. His mind was blinded by the money.

-Got one? – Jack asked when stepping in the room. Michel nodded.

-Good, good, - he patted the younger’s shoulder, - two more and we are ready to go.

Soon with nine other girls you were thrown in a van and driven away, a few hours later, tied in a spaceship, to be sent elsewhere, and later on, flying through the waves of different galaxies, till you crash landed on a planet, different from your coordinates.

* Planet DYVLONY 10043567901;1102033149001*

A gun was pressed at your neck, a sharp, stinging needle pierced through your skin, an injection that made you wide awake. You woke up with a groan while breathing in. The air- unknown and different, was burning your lungs.

-Her vitals are stable, - someone shouted. You felt disoriented.

The high court magistrate Xiao Dejun was watching through the glass, how all ten girls were injected a serum, vaccine, and a microchip, to help you communicate. Your naked body were one of the final ones, and for some reason he felt like a pervert watching you like that. Your body was beautiful, your curves in all the right places.

-Sir, - Dejun’s assistant spoke, - shall we get them ready?

-Yes, please, - Xiao nodded, - I will get Detective Ten here asap.

Greeting the detective as he arrived, Dejun led him through the doors.

-Don’t think of us as uncivil, - Xiao spoke, - since we don’t know why they are here, we cannot allow them to roam free, if you know what I mean…

The doors opened and Ten arched a brow. Dejun wasn’t looking happy either, but this is what they had to do, precautions, if you will.

-Greetings aliens, - Detective stepped on a platform, and started his interrogation. Xiao knew, Ten will get answers, one way or another, he was a Detective for a reason. – Have they been on drugs?

Xiao nodded to his assistant who handed Ten a file of information.

-The lab tried to make a sample from their blood, but couldn’t, whatever it was, didn’t last long in their system.

-Long enough to transport them to this planet though, - Ten stated.

Later behind closed doors both Detective Ten and Magistrate Xiao Dejun talked about what to do next.

-What did they say? – Xiao asked.

-We were right, the girls were not meant to be here, and they all are harmless, so we need to take action now.

-I know what you mean, - Xiao agreed. – what do you think we do?

Ten sighed and bit his lip.

-We should provide them with home, someone to look after them, - he started, - I can be one, maybe you?

Xiao nodded.

-What about the members of society council?

-Maybe, - Xiao spoke, - but I want to choose.

-Choose? – Ten asked, - ahhh, I see, - he smiled, - has one of them already caught your eye? – Ten winked and giggled.

-Ha, - Dejun poked his shoulder, - it’s not like that, she just seems to be the youngest out of all of them, so, I decided to choose her.

-If that’s what you like, why not, - Ten agreed, smirking.

Once at home, Xiao pulled out your file. It contained a lot of your photos, naked and dressed, from many different angles, information that you had given them. Anna. Your fake name, but no one has to know that.

Opening one of the bedside drawers, he took out a USB, attaching it to his pc. A video started playing and Dejun bit his lip. Choosing to remake the video, he started to work on it. He even re-made the sounds. Clapping his palm onto his other hand, which was formed in a fist, he made sex-like noises, and spoke into microphone.

-Ten, you have to see this, - he spoke, in the video Anna was crawling on her knees, grabbing onto Dejuns’ trousers, touching his cock, and sucking on it afterwards. – she’s a naughty girl.

He announced in the mic, playing forward the video, he made sure, that his partner indeed looked like Anna (you) from all the angles. No one would ever know. Xiaojun remembered the mess his partner had made after the sex, how angry he got, when she smeared her secret all over his abdomen.

Anyways, she got to sit on a bag of peas (a method of punishment used in schools, a long time ago, bag of beans or peas, since small in size would poke at your knees and hurt as hell,) after that stunt. Not on his watch is anyone to make him dirty like that.

Not two days had passed, when Xiao returned to the high court to pick you up. One by one you all got split up, taken to different peoples’ homes, to be taken care of.

-Hey, Suzy, - Xiao greeted, - I am here to pick up Anna, - he smiled.

-She is ready, you just need to sign these papers, - she handed the documents to Xiao, and he filled them in, simple questions of- does your house have a spare room and if you had already purchased clothing for Anna etc. Yes. Xiao was prepared.

You were shaking. This was scary. Who are you about to get? Yet you were the one who were hoping for someone nice, so you put your façade on, bringing in the person you are playing. Anna.

-Anna, - you were greeted by a female DYVLONY, - your guardian is here to pick you up. Follow me.

Once through the door, you saw a back first. Then the brown hair, a person wearing a suit.

For some reason, the person you pictured was Mr. Roger at your first meeting, you got goosebumps all over your body, and then he turned around.

You knew the guy. High court magistrate that you had encountered many times when you had just landed. He was with you when you were being examined. Behind his stare though, there was something else, he seemed like a nice guy, so you put your thoughts aside to focus on your travel to your new home.

Xiao was driving. So, you thought, to make things not so difficult, might have a chat, a small talk, just to get you going.

-What do you do for a living? – you asked, Dejun was very focused on driving, but he gave a small smile before talking.

-I work in the High court, - he started, - I am one of the magistrates there.

-I see, - you spoke, - so you assist in cases and all that?

Xiao nodded.

-What were you on your Earth? – Dejun asked.

You thought briefly, what to tell him, you were a student and an escort? Do you really tell him?

-I was in school, actually, - you started, - but I did various side jobs.

-Like what? – he continued.

-Uhm, - you bit your lip, - I was a bartender.

-Was a bartender? – he re- asked, - and after that?

Do you tell him? He might not know what it is though, right?

-I worked as an escort, - you spoke softly, more quiet than normal.

-So, what does an escort do? – he was curious now.

-Just, you know, - you breathed in a sharp breath, - like a person to be company for another person. Simple as that.

Xiao nodded.

-And you get paid to do that? – he thought to himself, you nodded.

-Yeah, see, a lot of people are lonely like that, - you stated, trying to figure out a way to change a subject. – your car is neat, - you nearly squeaked out a random sentence. But then it really was neat, there was not a single bit of dust, the cleanest vehicle you had ever seen.

Xiao flashed a smile. He was really good- looking, it was clear as the sky.

Once parked up by his house, he led you both inside the house. It amazed you how clean it was everywhere. You left your shoes at the hallway before putting on a pair of slippers, which Xiao had given to you.

The house was small, but comfy, two floors, by the looks of it. Xiao led you to your room, but you stopped by his room seeing how it looked like. There were various toys on one of the shelves, and it looked creepy as fuck.

-This is my room, - Xiao was right beside you.

-Oh, - you snapped out of your trance, - I’m sorry, I just noticed those… - you pointed to the shelves.

-I see, - he said, - let’s go, shall we?

You nodded and followed into your room. He opened a cupboard; everything was placed in it neatly. Socks, jumpers, underwear, you name it, he had it. All stacked up elegantly, nothing hanging about.

-Thank you, - you said.

-I’ll let you settle in, - with that he left you alone, only then you could get some time to roam through the cupboards. You started doing that when you met up with your clients back on Earth, some of them had planted microphones and cameras in their hotel rooms, so it had made you a bit paranoid. You had never told Lea that. As far as she had to know, you were always safe while at your job.

Xiao walked back to his room, opening his computer, he clicked send the video, adding a thumbs up, before getting back to you. You were literally roaming through the cupboards, half of the clothing now onto the floor. Xiao found you, arms deep in the drawers.

-What on DYVLONY are you doing!? – he shouted.

You jumped, landing on your ass.

-Ouch, - you shouted, swearing a “fuck” after that.

-Nope, - Xiao announced, went straight for you, grabbing your ear, while you grabbed his hand, he pulled you up on your feet, dragging you out of your room, down the stairs. You followed him with an “ouch” after an “ouch”.

Once in the kitchen, he sat you down on a chair.

-We don’t speak like that in this house, - he said, opening one of the drawers, putting a cloth on the table, followed by a box of silver cutlery. – and we don’t throw things around like that!

He stayed quiet. You didn’t quite get what he wanted from you.

-So, - he started, - I am giving you a punishment, - your eyes widened and heart- beat went up, - you will polish this, - he mentioned to the silver cutlery. You nodded taking the cloth in your hand. One by one you took out the pieces, wiping them clean, putting them back. Really there was nothing to polish, they must have been cleaned only a couple of days before.

-This is easy, - you said.

-Ha, - Xiaojun laughed opening few more drawers where you were greeted by a few more sets of silver.

You mentally face-palmed yourself.

-You will clean ALL OF THEM, - he announced.

-I’m sorry, - you whispered.

-I know you are, - he stated, passing you more sets.

A few hours later you thought your hands were to fall off. Clean. Wipe. Polish. Your stomach rumbled. Xiaojun leaned closer, next to you ear, his breath tickling your throat.

-Hungry?

You jumped back in your chair, your nape hitting Xiaojun in the face in the process. When he grabbed his nose, you went to help him.

-I am sorry, I didn’t mean to, - you said, nearly sobbing, he was groaning in pain. When he moved his hands away from his face, you saw the blood first.

-There better be no blood, - Xiao said, your lip trembled now, teary eyes looking at him. He walked away, upstairs, probably to the bathroom, while you fell to your knees, crying. He was angry, it was frightening. Most of the times the calmest people are the most scary when it comes to things like this.

Minutes passed while you were on the floor, until you heard footsteps approaching. Xiao leaned down, putting his hand around you to help you get up.

-I’m sorry, - you sobbed.

-It’s fine, - he replied, - let’s get you something to eat.

He sat you back to the chair, and when you saw his face, there was not a glimpse of blood or anger, he looked like before, the smiling court magistrate that you met before. You wiped your eyes in the back of your hands, and the sleeves of your onesie.

Throughout the dinner, you couldn’t face him, not once you looked his way. When you finished eating, Xiao took the dishes and washed them, drying them off straight away. You looked up at him, finally. He smiled at you.

The kind of smile that makes you warm. A nice smile.

-Shall we go upstairs?

You nodded, and he led the way, but to your surprise he stopped in front of the bathroom.

-Is everything alright? – you asked when he opened the door, he didn’t respond, but mentioned for you to walk inside. You stepped inside and he followed. There was a pile of bloodied tissue in the rubbish bin that caught your attention.

The next thing you know, your face is nearly in the bloody tissues, and you are on your knees.

-Who did this? – Xiaojun asked.

You couldn’t say a word, you were in shock.

-Who did this? – he asked again, pressing your head down more towards the tissue. You started crying. – who did this? – he asked the final time.

-I’m sorry, - you sobbed.

-I am not asking you that, - he said calmly, - WHO DID THIS?

Throughout your sobs and cries, you manage to squeak a very quiet “me”. He let go of your head.

-Me, - you said one more time, the same quiet like before, - I did this…

And then it was all too much, your cries, your feelings on high alert, and then… everything went black.

*48 hours later*

Xiaojun was next to your bed, sitting on a chair. The doctor had just left, saying that you must have had a couple of rough days, that knocked you out like this.

He was scared.

He did this to you.

You looked so peaceful like this though. He must have had scared you with his behavior. He couldn’t do anything about it, that’s what he does, he had been brought up like this, and so will you. You will get used to it; he was sure about it.

There was a couple of pills that the doctor recommended, and an injection, which Xiao was against off. He would not do that to you. So, pills it were, he just needs you to wake up, and then you both could continue with your life.

He waited an hour, and one more, and then he made you soup, then he was ready to wake you. Once he walked in your room, he noticed you were sat upright, looking disoriented.

-Hey, - Xiao greeted, your body pressed back, as if to hide from him, - it’s ok, - he said, - don’t be scared, I won’t hurt you.

This time, Xiao got on his knees, leaning down, asking for your forgiveness.

-I should not have reacted like I did, and I apologize, - he said, - I am truly sorry, I will try to take care of you like I promised, if you let me…

You nodded.

He got back up, bringing you some warm soup, and giving you water to drink the pills.

-Doctor gave these for you, - he smiled while handing them to you, - they should help, for the anxiety and stress that you’ve been through.

You nodded, pretending to drink the pills. When you thought he wasn’t looking, you turned your head to spit the pills out, but Xiao’s hands got to you first, his hand clamped down on your mouth.

-Swallow, - he said. – it’s for your own good.

You nodded a “no”.

-Please, - he said, - it really is for your own good. Please?

You swallowed the tablets, not really wanting to, but it was the only option for you. Only then, Xiao let go of your face.

-I know I scared you, - he said, - if you behave, it won’t happen again, ok?

You nodded once more. God only knew what he was about to do, and you? Would play nice, not to anger him. Oh boy, was it ever that simple?

Following days, he was at home. Both of you would have breakfast, then doing house- work, you would clean, he would do the same, you would watch him rearrange his toys, and then would be lunch, and every other day you would go for walks.

On this particular day, he took you to church.

You were greeted by a smiling pastor, who seemed off.

Once you sat down in one of the isles, you listened to what pastor Kun would be talking about today.

-Family, - he said, - family is only one, the one that we had chosen before we were born. Family is our beginning, and it is also our ending. Turn to your right, - pastor preached, - are you with your loved ones? Your friends are also your family. They are the ones who make you who you are.

Your brain gears started to circulate in motion. Family. Why is Xiao like this? There is something that must have happened, it’s your task to find out.

Walking back, you looked around, smiled at the kids who ran around, a simple interaction like this made you feel welcome.

-Tell me about your family, - you said looking up at Xiao.

-There is not much to tell, - he replied, - my father was very strict, my mother was too, they both were, but thanks to them I got where I am now. I focused more on learning and knowledge than running around with friends or girlfriends.

You nodded. Strict. That’s probably not the right word.

-Who made you obsessed with cleaning? – you spat out and then shut your mouth with your hand. Xiao stopped in his tracks. He looked at you, the deep orbs searching yours, as if he was looking directly into your soul.

-Why don’t you tell me your real name? – he simply replied, starting to walk again, away from you, towards the house.

-What? – you asked, going after him, - what does that supposed to mean?

He looked at you unbothered, raising his eyebrows.

-I know you lied about that; I am not stupid you know…

-So, what!? I lied… AND? – your voice escalated, - you have no proof!

Soon you were back in the house, behind closed doors, where no one would hear you arguing.

-And that Is supposed to make It normal? – Xiao talked back at you, - proof? I have called your name, and you have not responded so many times I started to think, that something is off, until I realized, that Anna might not be your name, that you might be a traitor, who has stolen someone’s identity.

-I told you I was an escort, you know what else escorts do? – you shouted, - I transform into other personalities, turn into a different person, to earn money. One day I can be someone to seduce you, - you stepped closer, touching Xiao’s chest, - a different time I can be your worst enemy.

You stomped upstairs, going in Xiao’s room.

-What do you think you’re doing? – he asked, going after you.

-I told you, I can be whatever people wanted me to be, so which me do you want? You chose me for a reason? And what is that reason, huh?

With a swift movement, your hands threw all of his toys on the ground, like a maniac, you threw every single one of them down, Xiao was screaming, while trying to catch you.

-What are you doing!? – he shouted.

-What you gonna do about it? – you shouted back, and it was like a switch had been activated. Gone was the calm and happy Xiao from minutes ago. Next thing you knew, you were on your stomach on the ground, your face pushed down into the carpet.

-What is this behavior? – he asked, pushing your face even more, if that was even possible. Somehow you managed to turn your face at the right time, gathering your saliva, spitting him in the face. Xiao jumped back. He looked so disgusted.

-What? – you bit back, - don’t like a bit of drool? You neat freak!

You were ready to make a run for it.

-I have seen the weird things you do, - you said, - you dislike blood and other body fluids, barely manage to live through the mess in the bathroom after I have had a shower with my hair sticking everywhere… yet you drink coffee and tea that contains grains, through a straw. What does it make you? You are disgusting!

Xiao pursed his lips, calculating what he will say next.

-I think that mouth of yours needs washing with soap, - he said matter- of- factly, - everything that comes out of it, sounds like a lot of shit…

When you understood what he was about to do, it was too late, he had grabbed you, pushing you into the bathroom, down on your knees, already next to the sink. Holding you in between his legs so you wouldn’t move, his hands gathering the liquid soap, trying to get it in your mouth, you were pursing your lips, trying your best not to open your mouth. His fingers blocked your nose, and you breathed in to get air back into your lungs, and Xiao pushed the soap in your mouth.

It burned like hell, your tongue tasted the bitterness, and your mouth was burning, tears were already streaming down your face, and your face was pushed up, Xiao was looking down on you, his face happy.

-Whose fault is this? – he asked, - I wouldn’t have to do this if you were a nice girl… right?

When you were sobbing like mad, he let go, and you spat the soap out, some of it had already went down your throat. Washing your mouth, you sobbed even louder, Xiao was still having a hold on you.

-Who are you? – he asked.

-My name is Y/N, - you spoke softly, tears slipping down your face.

-My classmates called me dirty, - he said, - so my mother made sure, I was not…

Back to your feet, Xiao had washed your face, made you sit on the bean bag, while he puts his toys back into place. You were still sobbing in between, while Xiao talked.

-I did choose you, - he said, - for my own hunger and desires. I made you someone else in my mind. I thought you would be different, once you would be mine, but expectations didn’t match reality, - he looked at you, - don’t worry, I won’t give you back, I intend to make you mine…

He smiled.

-What you do is not right, - you talked quietly, - you can’t make me yours, I should do that willingly, you punishing me is not right.

Xiao let out a laugh. He walked over to you.

-That’s the only thing I know, that’s how I keep control…

-When I was Anna, that’s how I kept control.

-See, we are not so different, you and I.

The after taste from the soap still lingered in your mouth. He was right in a way, and in a normal situation you would have ran away, but not here. As an escort you had come across a lot of broken souls, people who just needed someone to talk to, near enough like a next of kin, a family member who would listen to them instead of blaming them for something.

-I’m sorry, - you whispered, - your parents had no right to do that to you. I know, me saying this won’t change nothing either, but I need you to know, you can always change, of you find the right person.

Somehow those words stayed with Xiaojun. They made him feel weird. Change? How?

Hour after hour, day after day, and he still had not found the answers he was looking for. He walked home, leaving his car by the High court. Fresh air would help him think. Passing by the church, he made a d-tour. It’s like the god himself drove him to come to confess.

Inside the church, he sat in the cabin. Pastor Kun on the other side.

-I don’t know how to change.

-Why do you need to change? – Pastor asked.

-I have hurt the person I was supposed to care for, - he breathed in, - I shouldn’t have done that… she deserves more than that.

-Now the more important question is what are you willing to do for her to change this? Don’t you think?

-I know, father, but how do I change?

-Remember, when you are a child, your parents taught you everything… this time you both have to teach each other something, starting with small things, baby steps, smaller and then bigger. Slowly, you have to accommodate each other, start with trust, continue with anger issues, and so on…

-Yes, - Xiao said, - I will make sure she is cared for, she is loved, and I will make her happy.

Pastor Kun smiled on the other side. Xiao was a tough man, but he had a heart of gold.

-Thank you, - Xiaojun said, and then he left, going back home to you.

You had just made dinner, washing a pot, when Xiao’s arms trapped you in a back hug.

-I am sorry for hurting you, - he spoke, - I will try to master my issues if you’d let me.

You touched his hands with your wet ones. Xiao cringed.

-Let’s start with this, - you said, giggling, - fluids.

-Nope, - he tried to step back, - not ready for this, - but you didn’t let him. You turned around grabbing onto him and wiping your nose in his chest. – what the hell!!!

He was getting angry, but then he tried to suppress it down, instead of bursting out in anger, his hands grabbed your bottom. You thought, you might play a little, let some of that Anna’s personality slip through. You licked your lips, and Xiao raised his eyebrows.

-No, - he warned, - whatever you are about to do, don’t… - he warned again.

-Yes, - you said back.

-No no, - he shook his head.

-Yes, I have to, - you laughed a bit, wetting your lips again, and then you did it. Your lips reached his.

A wet smooch on his lips, the wetter the better, your saliva coating his dry ones. He had closed his eyes in the process. You leaned in again, doing the same over and over again. He was cringing so badly, you actually felt bad for the guy.

God knows, what his family had pumped into his system.

-This is natural, - and then the unimaginable happened, he kissed you back, his mouth drinking from yours, and your tongue asked for entry in his mouth, now both tongues touching each other, plenty of spit shared now.

Days passed. Just like this. You- trying your best to ease Xiao into all the things he despised, some even so ridiculous, and he kept warning you, that you apparently “make him angry” all the time. But it was not it. You started to develop feelings for him in the weirdest ways possible. Somewhat like a Stockholm syndrome founds its way through someone who has been taken against their will, your body grew accustomed to his needs and his wishes. During the day he left for work, and after work, you tried to tease him with all sorts of weird crap.

This particular day you were feeling hungry for his attention. So, you did what you do best in a situation like this- cause trouble.

You went in his bedroom and swapped over a couple of books. You see, a normal person would not notice shit, but not him. Xiaojun would notice that near enough as he would walk through the door. You greeted him when he came home.

-Dinner will be ready soon, - you announced.

-Ok, I will change my clothes and I will be down soon, - he smiled, touching your head and kissing your forehead. You watched him disappear, only to see him come out, - were you in my room?

You nodded “no”.

-Are you sure? – you nodded a “yes”, not saying nothing. He looked at you suspiciously, - is there something you are not telling me?

-I don’t think so, - you said, and walked back into the kitchen.

Xiao didn’t bother changing clothes, he went straight for you, pressing you against the kitchen counter.

-What are you doing? – he asked again.

-I don’t know what do you mean? – you faked innocence. He leaned in, his lips nearly brushing against yours.

-Are you sure? – he teased you now.

-Mmh, - you nodded. He giggled letting you go.

-You are making me crazy, - he whispered.

-I love you.

The three words that you were hiding from him all this time, managed to slip passed your lips. Xiao stopped in his tracks. What did you say?

He trapped you again in his arms.

-What did you say? – he leaned closer, and you were looking everywhere but not him.

-I…, - you struggled, his hand reached for your face, and he was holding your chin up to see into his eyes, his loving eyes, how he scrunched his nose when you did something to tease him, how his eyebrows raised when you pretended to be someone else, just to see his reaction, - I love you…

He smiled with his eyes, his lips widening in a grin, he felt like a douchebag, but he knew what was next for you both, so his lips touched yours in a loving manner, starting to kiss you slowly, just barely touching your lips in the process.

You on the other hand felt like you were thirsty, and you joined in, grabbing onto Xiaojun’s body, kissing him passionately. He put your legs around his hips, taking you with him up the stairs. His lips were now attacking your neck, and grabby hands- your butt in the process.

Once on his bed, he got rid of his jacket and shirt, leaving him in a tank top, and getting back to what he was doing. You stopped in between to get rid of some of the clothing, when he had left you only in your bra and trackies, his body was on top of yours, his lips returning to yours.

-Xiao…- you whispered, he looked up, - I… I haven’t done this… with anyone…. Yet.

He didn’t look surprised. For some reason he always had assumed that you hadn’t, maybe it was just the way he saw you at first, and then, he just never bothered to ask.

-I am ok with that, - he smiled, - only if you are.

You nodded eagerly. Minutes later, he had gotten rid of your trousers, your panties on display. His arms caressed your skin, he was extra gentle and slow, to prove that you could trust him, and he would only continue if you would nod or reach for him, which you did. Your hands found themselves in his hair, pulling him closer to your own hungry body.

His hands travelled south, slipping past the waistline of your underwear, going down on your sex, you nearly bit him, since no one had touched you there, this was a new sensation, and it was making your body tingle and your heart rate going up.

-It’s ok, I just have to stretch you a bit, if that’s alright with you, - you nodded, feeling how his fingers were moving up and down on your lower lips. You knew that he is not really ok with body fluids, but for some reason he didn’t mind your wet lips nor your dripping sex.

-I should ask you the same thing, - you giggled, getting more comfortable at his touch, he smiled back.

-You might just be the reason, why it’s ok, - he replied, as simple as that.

One of his fingers found your entrance and eased its way inside, your walls snug around it. You had closed your eyes; it was making you nervous and excited. While moving one of his fingers inside your tight walls, he soon added another one. You grabbed onto his arm.

-Give me a moment, - you whispered, the feeling making your head spin, - can… can I be on top when we do this?

Xiao was surprised. Not once he had heard a request like that, but he nodded anyways, soon you had changed positions, your legs spread over his lap, his fingers working their way inside your pussy, coaxing moans from you.

-Oh, don’t stop, - you whispered, biting your lip, - please… don’t stop…

And he didn’t, he worked hard to get you to orgasm, not slowing down till you came down from your high, now completely sat on his lap. His lips found yours. Tender lips brushing yours, quiet whispers leaving his mouth to make sure you were good.

When your hands reached for his pants, it was clear that you were ok to continue, and he let you play a little bit, his hand helping you work on his member through his pants.

He moved you off his body, so he could get rid of his trousers, his dick standing proud, a happy trail towards it that you hadn’t noticed before. You gulped. How is he going to fit? Like how?

Xiao got you out of your thoughts, with his own hand, returning to his member, massaging it, you felt your throat dry out a bit. Alright, watching a porn was completely different to what was in front of you now. Then the idea of a horrible sex scene found its way to your mind, and you had to shake your head to get rid of it. No time for that bull.

He reached for you, to kiss you again, then slowly moving back to the cupboard next to his bed, taking out a condom and slowly slipping it on, then sitting back down on the bed, helping you get on top of him again. He pushed you down slightly, so your pussy lips were grinding on his naked member, sparks of pleasure went through you. You looked down and helped him position himself right under your entrance. The tip of his cock was now slowly pressing into you, your hands were on Xiao’s shoulders for stability, grabbing a bit strongly onto him now.

Xiao let you move on your own accord, watching your reaction as you sank down lower on him.

-Help me, - you whispered, and he helped to push your hips down, his dick penetrating your virgin vaginal walls, and you sank down with a hiss. A tear escaped your eyes, Xiao kissed it away, his hands caressing your sides and your back, till you nodded with a quiet “I’m ok”. The stretch was something new, a bit painful, a bit extraordinary, if you could call it that.

Xiao’s lips kissed yours, then your neck and lower to your front, just above your breasts, his hand touched one of your breasts, groping and massaging, and his lips latched onto your nipple. Your head fell back, enjoying the feeling, and your hips started to move. The burn you felt in your abdomen, was slowly fading away, your vagina pulsing around Xiao’s member, and he helped you find a rhythm. You knew, you won’t be able to keep up for much longer, but you had to make sure, you were comfortable enough to give into him completely.

He let you enjoy your ride, but then he said:

-That’s it, - and with that he flipped you over, your body under his, - you had your fun… now it’s my turn…

The lovemaking sounds were in the air, with tender kisses, slow and sensual movements, his hand touched yours, fingers entangled with yours, and his eyes searched for your eyes, the feelings felt even on a higher level. The eye contact made it even more personal, not only because this was your first time, but it was also Xiao who made it special for you.

Changing the rhythm to faster movements, coaxing more moans out of you, that he swallowed with hot kisses over your mouth, he felt you tightening around him one more time, as you orgasmed, your lips not making a single sound, only when Xiao returned to continue his pelvic thrusts to chase his own high, you moaned and screamed, driving him into oblivion, and him taking you with him, your body convulsing and turning into a hot lava, bursting at the seam, while his hot seed filled up the condom.

He held you tight against him as you both were trying to catch your breath, he pulled out slowly, earning a whine from you.

-Let’s get you cleaned up, - he said, but you didn’t allow him to move.

-Not yet, - you giggled, - stay a bit more… - your body was sweaty, and so was his, and he was not happy about it at all.

-Y/N, - he warned you.

-Yes…? – you laughed again, - too much body fluid? – you giggled, earning a sigh from Xiaojun. – if we have a bath, I will want to make you dirty again soon after that…

You said that as a fact, and Xiao shook his head.

-Ok, - he gave in, hugging you again. – but only because you asked so nicely.

-See, it’s not that bad…

-Oh, it’s bad, - he replied, - and I am still not used to this.

-But you will be…? – you smiled, kissing him.

-I will be.

[listless-brainrot]

Could haru theoretically accomplish lavabending

okay i’ve technically already answered this but i think it’s pretty interesting so let me elaborate

what’s cool about lavabending is that we now have a Not LOK Example of it because of the new toph comic! so i can actually use that!

the following will basically be my very loose analysis of sorts, as well as observations and connections to be drawn between haru, tyro, and the lavabending presented in the toph comic. i won’t really be using LOK as a reference, because i want to focus more on lavabending as it applies to the atla timeline, as they’re asking about an atla character, but i do recognize and acknowledge the lok lavabenders (ghazan and bolin i believe?).

i’ll put it under a read more for people who haven’t read it yet as i’ll be including comic pages for reference but anyways! time to answer your question:

Could Haru Theoretically Accomplish Lavabending?

so to start, let me recap the comic briefly- 

for those who don’t know, there’s this new character introduced in the toph’s metalbending academy comic named sun who turns out to be a lavabender.

this is important because it shows that lavabending isn’t actually as New as we thought (which is a fair assumption given that our first example of a lavabender was ghazan from lok), it’s just pretty uncommon and this kid just happens to have it, using it during underground the earthbending spats he participates in, as shown below:

[ID: a 4-paneled page from the Avatar: The Last Airbender comic, Toph’s Metalbending Academy. the first panel depicts a hand slamming against the ground, dust swirling around it with a sound effect for emphasis. the second panel depicts an earthbender, sun, wearing green and brown earth kingdom clothing, posed close to the ground, palms pressed against the ground as smoking lines of red lava begin to trail away from his hands. the third panel depicts sun in the same pose as before, standing behind a surging wave of lava loudly erupting from the blackened earth, aimed at his opponent, a man dressed in blue and brown water tribe clothing, who stands in fear with his arms raised. there is a crowd of onlookers watching the two from behind a barrier of steel boxes, all dressed in various green earth kingdom and red fire nation clothing. the fourth panel depicts sun on a red-tinted panel, bearing a focused expression as lava surrounds the outer edges of the panel, illuminating his face from below, highlighting his serious expression. his irises are tinted orange. End ID]

here, we can see one of the techniques used for lavabending- there is heavy use on being connected to the ground, though the actual bending seems to stem mostly from the hands, with the stance fueling the movement. it’s also interesting how the lava comes out in the form of a literal wave that is similar to the “earth waves” we’ve seen before, but in liquid form. though sun is touching the earth, the bending is focused on moving the earth/lava away from him.

probably because, yknow. it’s lava. you generally can’t touch lava. (also, how he hasn’t killed anyone with it, i don’t know, especially given that he apparently can’t control it)

i thought this was interesting, because we’ve seen this “wave” move before; in fact, we’ve seen this technique before:

[Image ID: three screencaps from the episode Imprisoned, from season one of Avatar: The Last Airbender. in the first screencap, four earthbenders on a metal rig, dressed in brown and grey prison uniforms, are shown raising a wall of coal, raising their arms above their head and standing on one leg. there is a pile of coal in the background, which katara is standing on. a small group of more earthbenders watch from a distance. in the second screencap, an old bearded man, tyro, is shown slamming his palms against the floor in a bent stance, one leg poised behind him while kneeling with the other. he is wearing a brown and grey prison uniform, and bears a focused expression, mouth open in mid-yell. his son, haru, who is wearing a dark green headband, as well as another earthbender, are shown standing behind him, dressed in the same prison uniform, palms facing downwards, fingers pointed inward. there are other earthbender prisoners watching in the background, standing near a pile of coal. in the third screencap, a wave of black coal quickly descends upon a group of dark red armor-clad nation guards, with pieces of coal flying off in different directions. the front line of five guards are defending themselves from the flying coal, standing with their arms raised to protect their faces. two of the guards in the back stand in firebending poses, holding a fist out while keeping one arm close to the chest. End ID]

look at tyro- he and sun’s stances are nearly identical! the palms hitting the ground, the same exact stance, the resulting chaotic wave motion of coal. this could very well be chalked up to an earthbending technique copied from the show, but it’s still important to note that tyro knows this, as it’s something directly applicable to lavabending. there is a focus on both body movement, but also hand movement especially, as evidenced by the following comic page:

[Image ID: a singular panel from the Avatar: The Last Airbender comic, Toph’s Metalbending Academy. in this panel, sun is depicted in a bent stance, standing on light brown earth with one foot behind him. he is wearing green and brown earth kingdom clothing. his arms and hands are raised, curling his fingers towards himself as he braces, closing his eyes. red and orange lava flows from the ground below him, surging out like a wave, breaking out of the lower half of the panel. the sound effect “russsh” is behind him, depicted in a similarly red and orange lava-like font, with the top half of the lettering bubbling and rising away. the lower half of the lettering is black, giving it the appearance of cracked lava rock. End ID]

this is another stance we’ve seen before, albeit not in imprisoned. it’s actually on the cover of this very comic, as toph’s standing like this. since we’re talking about haru, though, i won’t include it. but the focus is still the same- raising and pushing the earth/lava away from the user, which haru does a lot of.

my friend @the-hot-zone has already made an EXTREMELY in-depth analysis on haru’s bending style which i will link here, and i highly recommend reading it. it’s entirely supplemental to this, but it does help a lot with understanding where i’m coming from, especially when i mention earthbending and firebending styles.

because i think that, given that haru’s style is so mixed with earth and firebending styles, he could easily pick up lavabending, which is, quite literally, a mix of earth and fire. the control needed to, well control the lava, though, would probably have to be taught by a waterbender, given that lava is a liquid and moves as such, and is known to be hard to control, similar to water.

there’s actually one final point i want to make, though, and this is moreso speculation than anything, so take this at face value:

lavabending is the result of focusing on and tightly compressing earth, which generates friction, thus producing lava.

i know that there are examples of earthbenders manipulating preexisting lava (i.e. kyoshi making kyoshi island) but we see lava being generated within the earth itself, as shown by sun in the above panels. and guess who specializes in compressing earth, specifically earth away from himself?

[Image ID: a set of four screencaps from the episode Imprisoned, from season one of Avatar: The Last Airbender. the first screencap shows haru’s hand on an orange forest background. he is shown levitating two rocks, which spin over his palm. the second screencap shows haru’s hand, now closed into a fist, with sand streaming out of it. the third screencap shows the prison rig, with tyro and haru standing offscreen in front of a pile of coal, bending and compressing pieces of coal that levitate between their outstretched palms. the fourth screencap shows the same as the third screencap, but with the coal solidified into a solid, jagged rock. End ID]

haru and tyro, but mostly haru. we see him reduce solid rock to sand in one hand. we see both of them work together to turn lots of individual coal pieces into a huge solid lump of coal. we can see that they’re capable of compressing earth this way from a distance- who’s to say they can’t go farther? who knows what they can do once they get on solid ground?

so. keeping in mind that tyro uses very similar movements to sun, analyzing how sun’s lavabending technique works, knowing that haru uses similar bending movements as firebenders, and knowing that both haru and tyro specialize in bending compression and manipulating earth away from them, i propose this to answer your question:

tyro could, theoretically, be a lavabender, and there is a high possibility that he could teach lavabending to his son, haru.

i think it would be really neat if tyro was a lavabender, especially given that he’s the leader of haru’s village. they’d probably want a strong earthbender to be in charge- if he was a lavabender, then that adds more to being its protector, given that he led the resistance when the fire nation did eventually come for the village. even when they were “outnumbered ten to one”, as haru put it.

it would be a dangerous skill that the fire nation most likely hasn’t seen before, and would explain all the precautions they take with locking up the earthbenders. in fact, they send six fn guards to arrest haru, a singular earthbender- if they knew he was the son of a lavabender, or that lavabenders existed in the village, it would make sense that they would send so many just to subdue one.

furthermore, tyro teaching haru how to lavabend would be so cool, especially given the techniques haru already knows. he could utilize it in new ways that tyro’s probably never heard of or seen before, especially given that the technique is so rare. haru being able to even learn it also makes sense with this concept- tyro being able to lavabend and then his son also being able to lavabend makes sense.

i might make a separate post on this, solely because i have so many thoughts, but for now, there’s your answer.

tl;dr: yes, i think haru could, theoretically, lavabend. i also think his dad, tyro, could lavabend, and, after breaking out of prison, he would teach this ability to his son.

[sijsaddictivelemurcorner]

haha totally epic and not really long review i spent almost an hour writing how i felt about the first episode haha no NO

S1;E1 (King Me) Review that's more of a personal rant than actual review i'm sorry help me

(warning this is a VERY long review towards how I felt towards the first episode, and there will be MANY, MANY more like this; but dont worry, not will be like this lol)

----

King Me was an episode that already began to show the progress towards King Julien and his efforts towards him and the kingdom. We already know what happens; But for the ones who don't or at least don't remember- Uncle King Julien, King Julien's Uncle, obviously, was foretold a prophecy from Masikura about a prophecy where if a king was wearing a crown tomorrow night, they would get eaten by the foosa. Intrigued with a plan, Uncle King Julien gives the crown to his nephew while they're unaware of what's expected to come.

We can already tell his uncle's a bit of a douche, already wanting to kill his son off from day one. But the question lies through; Was this something he's been wanting to do for sometime, or just a 'without a second thought' decision? It's unclear, but this only shows how retched this guy's family really is. It's a bit saddening to know King Julien comes from such a terrible family, honestly. We already know about how his parents are, but we'll get about them when they make their first appearance in the later episodes.

Moving on, the episode later showed Mort's first interaction with the King. It shows that Mort had always encountered Julien, but never spoke to him until now, hence why King Julien was asking Mort's name. This also shows Mort already had quite the liking towards him before his feet addiction, but we're not sure how much he liked him. Was he just a regular fanatic or something more before then? His interest towards the feet didn't really skyrocket until the later seasons (which will be very interesting to talk about, so get ready for that soon, heuha).

I enjoyed seeing the part where he defeated the foosa through an interest many saw as a negative. The one thing I definitely liked in this episode was how his negative characteristics (being a party animal) were taken in a positive light. It's obvious Julien can take something bad into something good, and he always finds his own ways into solving situations, no matter how ridiculous it may seem to most. He takes his own precaution and steps, and most of the time; They usually work! It showed his own potential as a king, and didn't want to stick to the rules that the past kings have probably enforced onto themselves and others. It's already proof enough that Uncle King Julien's method of handling things was through running away and being in fear, and it was the kind of method Julien sort of took when the foosa first attacked at his coronation.

It was well established in the start of the episode that his uncle took things through seclusion and limitation. Halfway through the episode, it was revealed that his uncle even banned his people from doing fun, exciting things (as in worry of them attracting the foosas), which is kind of a low, but it's his uncle, so it's not even a big surprise whatsoever. King Julien obviously didn't want to keep that law, so it makes sense he would well... veto it. Sometimes it makes me feel bad for the kingdom despite Maurice said 'he kept us all safe'. Regardless if he did, restricting everyone's activities for the sake of 'not attracting the foosas' seems a little numb-handed. His uncle should've thought of something better rather than forcing everyone to stay quiet most of the time and restricting most activities. He could've maybe told them how to fight, or told them how to set up warning signs for foosas'.

It's kind of stupid how Clover wasn't being the main defender since it was clearly shown she has the skills and defensive tactics to protect her kingdom. Yet again, she was just the head of security, and not the bodyguard. It's unknown how long she has been working with Uncle King Julien, but I'm sure he's known her long enough to know she could've been the perfect security to stop the foosas' back then, but it would make sense he would probably tell her to back from the foosas' since he didn't want to risk losing anyone. I mean, it was already proven from Maurice they lost half of the kingdom to the foosas' last year- which is definitely... news right there.

But what truly got me the most out of everything else in the episode was King Julien's quote to his people when he told them they would be dealing with the foosa again in the future; How if there isn't a tomorrow for them, then they should make their day extra big. It's a neat sentiment and less of a negative quote, serving more as a neutral one that reassures but gives the lemurs an understanding to what they're really dealing with in the jungle life. It's funny but strange to me on how King Julien could easily accept the fates he expects to probably deal with in the future. Maybe cause he's so used to already hearing so many lemurs get eaten by foosas; Some I bet he saw with his very own eyes.

But even so, he already gives his audience a pill that their past king probably would be too afraid to say to them, and that was honesty.

Brutal honesty. But an honesty with hope. He tells his people to make their days last, because they, and not even King Julien himself, knows when it's time to go. (cough - cough COUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHNHnhnhn)

This episode was a true testimate to what King Julien is, and serves as an absolute justice to his usual roles back in the Madagascar movies and The Penguins of Madagascar; I applaud DreamWorks for giving this lemur the show he deserves, and the justice they gave to all the other lemurs and some others from the first Madagascar movie into this show, giving them the screen time they deserve as well- it truly shows how much the company really cares for its characters, and I give them huge respect for that. These are more than just 'cash grab spin offs', these are spin-offs I bet many, many people asked and wondered for years- and there it came.

But that's my review for the first episode. It's long, but whatever. As I progress through the other episodes, the reviews will be much more exciting, wacky, and well... review-y, lol.

They'll also probably be a bit shorter since I don't want to make every review be as long and detailed, heuha. Just felt like posting the first episode review out there. Will post the second episode review soon and then after I'll be reviewing the rest of season 1 and then turning it all into a single notepad that I'll publicly share to y'all.

Am very excited to show y'all more of my own personal reviews. :>

What are y'alls personal opinion towards the first episode? lol

[sherrybaby14]

Welcome Home

Summary:  You couldn’t take your controlling boyfriend, so you ran away.  He found you and hopes to change your mind, with the help of some friends.  

Warnings:  Smut, lost and found, very brief suicidal thought, I would not label this dub-con, but some might.  (I have not warned for every possible trigger.  Please read at your own risk).

Pairing:  Steve Rogers x reader

Words:   4200

A/N:  This is for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​ challenge!  My prompt was “Safe in Hell”.  

   “There’s a real hottie in your section.”  Your coworker reached above you for the coffee pot.  “If he asks for your number you should give it to him.”  

   Your nerves went off.  Was this the day?  Did he find you?  You shook them down, trying to act normal.  

   “Right.”  You were trying to balance the tray of drinks for the rare family of four who walked into the diner. “Because I give it out to all the other truckers who stop in here.”  

   “Other truckers?”  She laughed. “You won’t even give it to me!  When are we going to get together for after work drinks?”  

   Another thing to worry about, people getting too chummy.  A sign to leave.  

   “Soon.”  You gave a nervous laugh as you rounded, hoisting the orange juices in the air as you went back into the crowded eating area.  

   Soon you would be gone.  Never stay in a place for longer than three months, never use your real name, cash under the table, save whatever possible.   No relationships, no attachments.  That was the advice handed to you.  It worked well the last eighteen months.  Were you getting sloppy?  Was the strange man finally him?  The tray wobbled, thinking about dropping it and running out the backdoor.  

   It wasn’t the life you had planned for yourself, but you were more free in your time on the road than you had been the two years before.  

   You spotted the “hottie” your friend talked about.  His back was to you, short dark hair, smaller shoulders, shorter.  Any sense of worry you had faded.  Wasn’t him.  

A lot of the men who stopped in here were good looking.  Ninety percent of them drove trucks back and forth across the country.  They would forget your face as soon as they left, stomachs filled with greasy food and an insane amount of coffee. He was just another.  It was the blondes that worried you.  

   Nobody questioned your secrecy until just now, most were in the same boat.  Part of you was sure one of the cooks was wanted for murder.  Your co-workers last names were Smith, Johnson, Washington, Jefferson.  A lot of presidents.  Made it hard to google Sarah Adams and get any pointed results.  

   “There we go.”  You handed out the orange juice to the road-tripping family.  “Gimme a minute and I’ll be back to take your order.”  

   Your coworker walked by, coffee pot in hand.   You handed her the tray and took the hot beverage without even asking. The solo man’s cup was spun upright and you began to fill it when you approached the table.  

   “Room for cream?”  You watched the dark liquid rise.  

   “I’d prefer a double whipped non-fat late, but I suppose cream will do.”  The voice struck a nerve in your cord and you dropped the coffee pot.  

   Everything was moving in slow motion.   You swore you saw the liquid following out, but the guest grabbed the pot in one hand while reaching out with his other and grabbing your wrist.  

   “Hi there.”  He smiled up at you.  “Have a seat.”  

   You were too numb to respond as he dragged your arm, pulling you into the booth behind him.   You started to hyperventilate, the noise of the crowd fading as your world started to spin.  How was this happening?  Was this real?  

   “Don’t forget to breathe.”  Tony let go of your wrist and took a sip of his coffee.  “Not bad.”  

   You couldn’t react.  You didn’t know how to.

   “Really, I thought this was going to taste like dirt, but there’s something so basic about it, I can’t put my finger on it.”  The billionaire took another sip.  “Did you make it?”  

   You grabbed on to the table, a shake in your body as you looked up.  Tony’s warm eyes had a hint of sympathy, but he smiled and it vanished.  Had you lost your mind?  

   “Don’t have a lot of time so speak up Princess.”  Tony flicked your arm.  

   A million questions ran through your head, but you spit out the first one.  Your main fear.  

   “Is he….here?”  There was a lump in your throat, could you outrun Ironman?  Were you insane?  

   “Don’t ask questions you won’t like the answer to.”  Tony’s eyes dropped to the table as he grabbed a packet of sugar.  

   Escape.  You had to escape.   All the ways out you had planned in your head didn’t involve a visit from Tony Stark.  How was that even possible?  They were the good guys.  Maybe they didn’t know?  Maybe you could reason with his friend, get them to see.  Put an end to this madness, get your life back.  

   “Listen to me.”  You grabbed Tony’s hand, not wanting to understand how you were capable of touching him.  “He is insane.  He is controlling and demanding and you need to help me.”

   “I know.”  Tony nodded.  “Trust me, I know.”  

   Your shoulders relaxed.  Tony knew he was insane.

“When you were in his life, you made him better.”  Tony laughed.  “SInce you’ve been gone.  Well, everyone else has had to deal with that side.”  

You recoiled.  

“He has saved a lot of lives.  He’s a good man.”  Tony let out a huge breath.  

“HE RUINED MY LIFE!”  You slammed the table.  “He...he picked out my clothes,  he made me quit my job,  he nit picked everything I did, he followed me everywhere, he destroyed my friendships, he controlled everything.”

“Did he ever hit you?”  Tony ran his hand over his hair.  

“What?”  You glanced over his face.

“Did he tell you what you could and couldn’t do?”  Tony leaned back in the booth.   “What was he holding over you? That you couldn’t leave?  That you ran away in the middle of the night?”

“I tried to break up with him.”  Your lip quivered.  “But he sabotaged everything, every job application, apartment,  bills.  He forced it so he was my only option.”  

That was how Steve operated.  He didn’t give ultimatums, he didn’t hit you.  He just twisted your life so you were dependent on him.  A master of emotional manipulation.  

“Well, when he had you to look after.”  Tony reached down next to him and pulled out some electronic device.  “He wasn’t so difficult to deal with, but since you left of your own free will, he has been a bit of a horror.”  

“Own free will?”  You were seething.  “I tried to leave at least ten times!  He always found a way to make me come back.  We were only together for a year,  I realized he was tricking me, messing with my mind.  I called it off then, it took me another year of forgiving and coming back before I had to vanish.”  

“Vanish?”  Tony raised an eyebrow.  “Hardly.”

He tapped a button on his device.  This place barely got cell service but a screen seemed to appear out of nowhere.  Your jaw dropped as you scanned what was in front of you.  Pictures, notes, dollar amounts.  Every place you’d been the last eighteen months.  

“I...I need to get back to work.”  You started to stand, planning to sprint out the back and run until you died.  

Tony let out a whistle.  All noise in the diner stopped.  The people got up from their seats, the staff stopped in place.  All of them left the building in a neat and practiced order.  

“Sit back down.”  Tony slid the screen over, but didn’t close it.  “Don’t make this difficult.”  

“I am leaving.”  Your chest was heavy.  “You can’t stop me.”  

“No, but I can call the police.”  Tony scratched his head.  “They will be here faster than you can get outside, ready with a pair of handcuffs.”  

“I didn’t do anything.”  Your legs started to shake.  

“In the last year and a half you have committed a staggering amount of crimes.”  Tony hit his screen and they changed.  “Identity theft, tax evasion, moving stolen property over state lines, not to mention the civil liabilities from the landlords you ran out on.”  

“Bullshit!”  You hit the table.  “I used fake names, I worked under the table, I was trying to hide.”  

“Well, there’s an admission to the tax evasion.”  Tony crossed his arms and leaned back.  “My personal attorneys have studied this and found every little thing you have done wrong.  It’s all here.  Those fake names, turns out some real people have them.”  

You knew how powerful the Avengers were, but you thought the only evil one was Steve.  Besides, there was the one other nagging thought.

“How?”  Your mind was so focused on Steve, you couldn’t focus on anything else.  

“With a good federal prosecutor and several amazing state’s attorneys, you will be bouncing from prison-to-prison for the rest of your life.  Would you like to have a seat now?”  Tony’s sympathy vanished.  

Yes.  You thought about life in prison.  Could you handle it?  Take it?  Would it be better than this?  

“I promise you it would not.”  Tony glared up at you.  “Now sit.”  

You crumbled back into the booth.  

“What does he want?”  You knew Tony was just the middle man. “Were any of the people here ever real?  Were you just waiting until you had enough on me?”

“Of course we were.”  Tony rolled his eyes.  “Steve found you a day after you left.  He has been trailing you nonstop.  I saw the bigger picture.  He’d convince you to come back and you would run again.  We tempted you with some major crimes by the way, kudos to you for not robbing that guy in Portland.  Those were marked bills.  Would’ve had you ten months ago.”  

“I’m going to be sick.”  You leaned over and clutched your stomach, all the precautions you’d been taking, your life.  It meant nothing.  

“Here’s what he wants.”  Tony slammed a little black box on the table.  “Not the most romantic proposal, but you know Steve.  He doesn’t want any of the dirty stuff on his hands.”  

“Oh God.”  You clutched your stomach, trying to ignore the sound of Tony opening the box.

“He loves you.”  Tony reached over the table and set it on your knee. “He will take care of you.  Your life will be better than this.”  

“He’s obsessed with me.”  You glared at him.  “That’s not love!”

“Sure it is.”  There was no humor on Tony’s face.  “Maybe not your definition.  But to him, it’s love.”

“He...he could have anyone, why me?”  Your reality began to set in and tears started to fall.

“If I had to guess,  your mind.”  

“I’m not a genius.”  You looked up at him with red shot eyes.  “I thought I was free and he, he never left me.”  

You thought back to all the good looking single guys in here asking for your number, the way your coworkers were in the same boat as you.  It wasn’t dumb luck.  It was a controlled experiment.

“You need to ask him these questions.”  Tony’s sympathy showed again.  “He is waiting for your answer.  Take a look at the ring.  Put it on your finger, or else except some less-than-pleasant jewelry on your wrists.”

The sound of Tony’s footsteps and the ding of the diner bell made you sob.  There was no doubt the building was surrounded.  You had a third option, but that wasn’t in the cards for you.  

Your life with Steve flashed in your brain.  The way he looked at you, the way he sent a tingle down your spine, the way he got you to try new things, and when you didn’t like them he would stop.  He was kind, to you, but any life outside of him, that’s when he showed his true colors.  

Without opening your eyes you knew what the ring would look like.  Large and heavy, a single giant stone that people could see from yards away.  Ownership.  That was Steve.  

Which prison did you want?  

You gulped down, and looked at the box.  Your heart raced as you brought your hand to your mouth.  It was small.  It was ugly even, a single pear cut diamond in a bronze band, but your heart filled with warmth.

Different memories came forward, pretending to be a bride with a pillowcase, talking with your father about walking down the aisle, watching your mother cheers at your graduation.  The ring on her finger.  

“How?”  Your parents were dead, a tragic accident, nothing was recovered.  It happened a year before you met Steve.  

The initial wave of comfort he had brought came over you again.  The way he listened, tried to help you.

“Photos.”  Nat’s voice made you jerk your head up.  “He had it recreated down to exact specifics.”  

“It's not hers?”  Your heart didn’t sink at the realization, in fact it panged with comfort.  

“He’s not a miracle worker.”  Nat slid into the booth.  “But he tries.”  

The strangeness of the last five minutes dawned on you again.  You wouldn’t go back, you slammed the ring box shut.  

“Please, we were friends.  Get Steve to let me go.”  You bit back a sob.  “Women-to-women, you saw how bad it got and…”

“I saw a devoted man, who might not have chosen a woman who understood all his traits, but awoke something in him.”  Nat leaned forward.  “He wants you.  Only you.  I sent a few incredibly good looking guys to hit on you, and you shut them all down.  Are you sure you want anyone else?”

“I didn’t...I couldn’t...settle down.”  You took a heavy breath.  “He could find me if I built a life.  I needed to keep moving.”  

“He’s always known where you were.”  Nat smiled.  “Now make the right choice.  He’s waiting.”  

“Wait, help me?”  You looked up at her with glassy eyes as she left the booth.  

“I already have.”  The sadness on her face was too much, you started to cry again.  “We both have.”  

You didn’t take your eyes off of her as she left the diner.   The door moved in slow motion, slammed shut.  

You tried to bite back the scream, but it came out.  The vision faded, the diner was filled again.  Ghosts vanished.    

The tray of orange juice hit the ground with a smash and a spill.  Everyone in the diner turned to stare at you.  Including the “hottie” your coworker warned you about.  

Tall, blonde, beautiful, controlling, manipulative, but also protective, caring, pushing, and instead of crying and running away you burst out into tears and ran toward him.  Not registering that everyone in the diner was watching.  

“I...I missed you so much.”  Steve scooped you up in his arms.  “I was wrong.  I was wrong on so many levels,  after we lost Tony and Natasha, I couldn’t lose you.  And I shouldn’t have tried to keep you the way I did.”  

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.  Warmth, home,  everything negative flushed away.  

“Hey, you gonna clean this up?”  Your coworker held the coffee pot, looking pissed off.

You looked back at Steve, who was just as stunned from the kiss as the rest of the restaurant was from the sound of you dropping your tray.  

“I’ll change.  I miss you so much.”  Steve wrapped his arms around your waist.   “I’ve been changing.  Working on myself.  I can’t believe I pushed you that hard.  I wanted to keep you safe.”  

“I’m safe when I am with you.”  There was a fullness in your heart, one you didn’t realize you were missing.  “I didn’t do anything bad.”

“What?”  Steve laughed.  “You?  This was not the conversation I was expecting. The night you left,  I just, I realized my trying to protect you was overriding everything else. My trauma was creating trauma for you. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you let me.”  

“Please?”  You didn’t wait for a response when you put your lips to his.

Steve let out a grunt and held you tighter, your bodies pressed together as hard as they could be, your mouth devouring each other in the middle of the restaurant.  

He pulled away first, slowing down the kiss until he could press his forehead to yours.  

“Let’s get out of here.”  His gaze made your heart feel like it was going to beat out of your chest.

You nodded and undid the tie on your apron, throwing it on the table along with the orders and cash you’d received on your shift so far.  

Everyone’s eyes were on you as Steve took your hand and led you out of the place.  Nobody spoke a word.  It was like they weren’t even there.  

Steve walked you to the side of a pick up truck.  He opened the door and boosted you inside.

“You don’t understand how unprepared I was for this.”  Steve grinned as he buckled your seatbelt.  “I was ready to plead and beg, we were meant for each other.”  

As the belt clicked you grabbed his cheeks and kissed him again, moaning into his mouth.   The time apart now felt like a wasted lifetime.  This was right.  He was right.  Why did it take unearthly visitors to show you what was in front of your face the whole time.  

“We have to stop, or I won’t be able to control myself.”  Steve wiped his lips as he backed away, slamming the door shut.  

He rounded the front of the truck and climbed in the driver’s seat.  Buckling in and turning over the engine he whipped out of the parking lot.   You wasted no time sliding your hand up his thigh.  

“I missed you.  God, I missed you.”  He gripped the wheel.  “I can’t believe I let you get away.”  

“Well I’m back now.”  You let your hand climb father up his jeans, cupping the bulge of his pants.  “And I’m never leaving again.”  

You glanced at him, his eyes were fixed on the deserted road.   You went for the button on his pants.

“What are you doing?”  Steve looked to you with concern.  

“I can’t wait any longer.”  You yanked down the zipper and pulled his cock out.  “I need you, as much of you as I can get.”  

Steve let out a moan, approving.  You dropped your head and wrapped your lips around his cock.  Trying to drool as much as possible, wanting to take him deep.  

He shifted, and moved as close to you as possible without stopping.  His hand found the skirt of your waitress uniform and pushed it up.  He cupped your pussy, making you squeak with the realization of how wet you were, rubbing down hard.  

“I guess you did miss me.”   He dragged his fingers up and over the top of your panties.  

You lifted your hips and pulled them down, trying to concentrate on getting his dick as wet as possible, but eager for your own pleasure too.  

“I love you.”  His finger found your slit and gathered your juices.  “I’ll love you forever.”  

Your eyes popped open as he slid a digit inside you with ease.  You turned your body so that you were able to press your clit to the base of his palm as he flexed his finger inside of you.  

A moan left your mouth and his cock slid deeper.  

“You are my forever.  I need you.  I was a wreck without you.”  Steve grunted and his cock slid further into your mouth.  “I’ll never let you leave.  Never again.  I can’t...I can’t be without you.”  

You flicked your tongue and sucked harder, sliding down.  His knee popped up to touch the steering wheel and his other hand found the back of your head.  

“You’re like no other.”  He guided you further, his fingers working you into a frenzy as you humped against him, your clit coming to life.  “The only soul in existence who fits with mine.”  

His words made your heart flutter, but his hands were bringing you closer to the edge.  

“And you lied.  You did do something bad.”  Steve groaned.  “You left.  I never gave up.  I gave you your space,  but that’s over.  You’re my home.”  

You tried to nod as best you could, but you were more interested in controlling your gag reflex.  Your body was on fire, nipples tightening, hot and cold alternated all over you.   Why did you ever leave him?  None of that mattered now.  

“Now, be a good girl.”  Steve slid another finger inside and began working faster, sliding in and out, flexing against your inside while his palm ground into your clit.  “Show me how much you missed me.”  

Your body knew what he wanted before you mind caught up and you started to convulse around his hand.  Shots of pleasure firing off your entire being.  You fell forward, his cock hitting the back of your throat, but the orgasm made you unaware of anything but ecstasy.  

His hands vanished and you moved your mouth back, still unsteady from your release.  You needed to return the favor, but before you could get to work two hands were on your shoulders, pushing you up to sitting.  

You looked out the window and saw you were pulled over on the side of the road in broad daylight.  Steve went between your legs and yanked your panties off.  

“I need to have all of you.”  He grabbed your thigh and guided you to his lap.  

You nodded, straddling him as he guided his cock to your entrance.  

“Mmm.” You bit your lip as he stretched your quaking pussy.   “I missed you.  I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry.  I never should have left.”  

“Shhh.”  Steve pulled you down as he flexed up.  The burn it caused was beautiful.  “Our future is forever.  Welcome home.”  

You winced when you took him to the hilt.   Home.  That was the feeling in your heart.  

Tears stung at the corner of your eyes as you dropped your head, Steve grabbed your cheek and guided your lips to his. His other hand dug into your hip and guided your body as he fucked you.

You need him to take the lead, incapable of knowing what to do without his skill.   His tongue worked yours while his cock brought your pussy to life, rocking you while he slid in and out, short fast movements.  

“Oh God.”  You broke the kiss, unable to concentrate on it as he picked up the pace.  

Steve pulled you against him, his mouth finding your neck, he bit and teased at the skin as you turned into a mewling shaking mess.  

“You’re ready to cum.”  Steve nipped at your skin.

“No.”  You weren’t close, it was the after effects of the first one.

“Yes.”  Steve’s hands ran up your back and pulled your down harder.  “Don’t fight it.  Don’t fight me.  Give over.”  

“I’m…” You didn’t understand your own body.  

“Cum, cum for me.”  Steve tugged you down with so much strength you gasped.  “NOW!”

Your body responded.  The orgasm ripping through you out of what felt like nowhere.  The tears flowed as an inhuman noise left your body.   You were nothing, just a ball of pleasure, pure euphoria.  

Steve growled and joined you in finishing, coating your insides with his white foam.  You collapsed against him, wishing the clothes were gone.  

Consciousness was sneaking away, your eyes drifting shut.  Before you slipped into sleep you swore you saw Tony and Nat, both smiling at you.  You were home.  

~~

“Hey.”  Steve was shaking your shoulder.  

“Huh?”  Your eyes opened to see a dark sky.  

“We have to stop for the night.”  He lifted you out of the truck.  “You’ve been sleeping all day, but now I need some rest.”  

“Sorry.”  You wrapped your arms around his neck as he cradled you to his chest.  

“Something tells me you haven’t slept that well in a long time.”  Steve kissed your forehead as he carried you into the motel room.   “You needed it.”

“I needed you.”  You smiled as he set you down on the bed.  

“Always.”  Steve tossed a large bag he’d been carrying onto the floor.  “I’m going to take a quick shower.  You want to join me?”

“No.”  You turned on your side and cuddle the pillow.  “Too tired.”  

“Alright.”  He laughed.  “I’ll be right out.”  

Steve kissed your forehead again before going into the bathroom.   The second he was gone your eyes popped open.  You ran for the bag, unzipping it.  

It didn’t take long for you to find two things.   One was a Manila folder.  You opened it and saw everything Tony had shown you, just the old fashioned paper way.  Then you saw the little black box.  The ring on the inside was the one Nat forced you to look at.  

“Thank you.”  You looked up at the ceiling, hoping they could hear you.  

Steve was going to have you either way, but at least your visitors let you do it on your own terms.  You closed up the bag and stood up from the floor.

You glanced to the exit, seeing the keys to the truck sitting there.  Instead you smiled, and went to the bathroom, stripping off your clothes in the process.  You were home.  

[spookysanta]

The TA. - one. (c.e, h.c.)

Summary: she just wants to make a good impression. clearly, she’s made more of an impression on the two of them.

Pairings: Professor!Chris Evans x Black!Reader, student!Henry Cavill x Black!Reader

WARNINGS: swearing

updates will be sporadic because it’s a wip, but here’s part one! enjoy! :)

UNEDITED

****

 To Whom it May Concern:

Good morning. My name is Dr. Christopher R. Evans and I’ll be your supervising professor for section D346-0 of Chemistry class for the Fall semester. I’m sending you this e-mail to introduce myself as well as get to know you a bit before classes start next week. Would you be willing to meet me in my office (Franklin Hall, 3210) this Wednesday at around 3 p.m.? I’d like to go over the syllabus as well as your requirements as my TA.

Please let me know if that time works well for you.

I look forward to hearing from you.

Warm regards,

Dr. Christopher R. Evans, D. Sc.

(310) 555-3984

  *** 

Professor Evans:

Good morning! It’s nice to hear from you. I was in the process of getting your contact information to introduce myself. Thank you for taking me on as your TA, also—I appreciate that you’re giving me a chance. I’ll avail myself on Wednesday to meet with you at 3 p.m., I don’t want to change your schedule on my behalf. I can also provide you with my class schedule if you’d like so that you have my availability when you need to meet with me.

I’m excited to be working with you this semester!.

 Best,

(Y/N) (Y/L/N)

  ***

“Hi, my name’s (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Is Dr. Evans around?” She entered the lecture hall, approaching the podium where another professor was packing up her things. “I’m his new TA.”

“Yes, his office is through that door. Go in, make a left, and it should be the first door on your right.” The professor instructed, “He should be in there.”

“Okay. Thank you, ma’am!” she hurried across the room and pushed through the door, following the professor’s instructions and finding his classroom much easier than she had initially. She knocked on the door to his office. “Dr. Evans?”

“Come in.”

She opened the door slowly. She found him at his desk, typing on a computer. He paused for a moment, looking up toward the doorway with a small smile.

“Hi. You must be (Y/N).” he stood and crossed the small room stalking over to her and offering his hand for her to shake. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Great to meet you as well, Dr. Evans.” She shook his hand eagerly. This was her first professional job, and well…it’s helpful to have him as her boss.

Mainly to look at, but that’s beside the point.

“Oh, please. You can call me Chris.” He waved her off politely. “It’s just you and I here.”

She cleared her throat. “Okay.”

He made his way back to his seat behind the desk. “Please, have a seat.” He gestured to the chair that sat on the opposite side of the desk.

She sat down tightly with her hands flattened under her thighs—she’s a picker.

“What’s wrong?”

She shook her head tightly. “Nothing.”

He noticed that her face read differently than her words were saying. She looked almost uncomfortable, unsettled. “Are you sure?”

“This is just my first TA job so I’m a bit nervous,” She was almost hesitant to tell him the truth. She rushed out, “hopefully that doesn’t compromise my position.”

“Not at all! In fact, I think this is one of the easier classes to TA for, but maybe I’m biased.” He chuckled. “So, with that said, let’s go over your requirements. Hopefully I can put your mind at ease, okay?”

“Okay.” She smiled politely, trying to make herself relax but failing because Dr. Evans—Chris—was quite different that was she thought he would be. He was tall, built, and had the prettiest eyes she’d ever seen.

She’d assumed that he would look like Ebenezer Scrooge from the way her friends said he ran his class. By their record, he was a strict guy—very unwavering with deadlines and course policies, sticks to his syllabus schedule, assigns a ton of work, and has an even stricter attendance policy.

But they also said he was nice, which was hard to come by with professors in this field. They could tell he was a good person deep down and liked what he taught but he was a hard ass.

And by her analyzation, that was true.

His desk was quite neat and polished; it smelled of air freshener in the room; there weren’t any papers scattered about—which she was thankful for, because she cannot work with people who were unorganized—and, most notably, there weren’t any kind of photos hanging up. It was hard for her to determine whether he was a bachelor, or a married father that just kept things private.

Not that it mattered…but she wanted to know.

“So,” he turned one of his monitors to face her so that she could see his screen. “here’s the syllabus. It seems like a lot, but I swear, it isn’t.” he chuckled.

She hummed in response, beginning to read the lengthy document in her head as he spoke.

“Basically, your job will be to help me grade quizzes, labs, exams, and other assignments. You’ll also be required to proctor exams; I have another TA, Henry—he’s a graduate student—that will come in on exam days and proctor with you.”

She thought for a moment. “So, if I may ask, what will you do?”

“Teach the class.”

“Well, I know that. I just meant…it seems like a lot for me to do, and I’ve heard about some professors on campus having their TAs run the class.”

“Oh! Definitely not. Look, you seem great, and I have a feeling we’d get on well, but there’s a specific way I want my material taught so that’s not something you’d have to worry about.” He reassured her, noticing her body begin to relax. “What I will say, is there is a lot of content in my class, but the major graded assignments are few and far between, if that makes you feel better.”

She cocked an eyebrow.

“The class is mostly lab-based. You’ll be grading lab prep work, mostly—then comes the occasional homework or quiz, and exams.”

“Oh, okay. That makes more sense.”

He nodded. “Good.”

He scrolled down further into the document, showing his class policies.

“Now, these, I can’t break on.” He sighed. “I’m sure you’ve heard that I’m a strict guy.”

“What?” she replied incredulously. “No!”

He wanted to laugh. He could tell she was analyzing him, and she had to have heard something about him before the two of them met. “Well, it’s because a lot of the precautions are for the safety of us and the students.”

She scanned a random sentence on the page that read:

Students are required to be fully clothed on lab days—no t-shirts, ripped clothing, or closed-toed shoes.

10 points will be deducted for wearing clothing that does not meet the above dress requirement. More than one violation on the lab dress requirement will result in a deduction from the LAB grade.

Yikes, she thought, he’s not joking around.

She found it understandable nonetheless—she imagines it would be difficult to have a completely safe lab in a stuffy room while it’s still hot outside.

And she’s heard that a lot of the laboratories on his side of campus don’t have air conditioning, which was quite unfortunate this time of year.

“The dress policy is the most heavily enforced one.” He shrugged. “I can’t be held liable for students’ recklessness during labs.”

“Has the dress code been an issue previously?” she asked.

“Not for me, but I know it’s been one for the department, so I’m just tryin’ to keep my name off the “injury list”.”

She nodded in understanding.

“I think that’s pretty much it as far as the basics are concerned. I’ll send you a copy of my syllabus and calendar for the semester, as well as your contract.” He turned the monitor to face him again, typing quickly on his keyboard. “Oh! And I should send you Henry’s information, too.”

“Who’s Henry again?”

“Henry is a graduate TA. I’ve had him in my classes for a couple of years, and he’s a great student. I think he worked in the library over the summer, so you may know him.”

She shook her head. “No, I don’t.”

“Well, he’s a great person to know, not just for my class, but for your upper-level math and science classes.” He gushed. Clearly, he really liked having this “Henry” as an assistant.

“Okay, I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

“Great. And if you have any questions, shoot me an e-mail or a text and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

“Alright.” She replied simply.

He stood, holding out his hand again. “I’m looking forward to working with you this semester, (Y/N).”

She took his hand, this time relishing in the softness of his skin and the firmness in his grip. “I am, too.”

**

Later that day, after she’d completed the last assignments for her summer math class, she checked her e-mail’s inbox and found two messages from Chris and another from Henry, the godsend of a grad student.

***

 From: Dr. Christopher R. Evans, D. Sc.

Miss (Y/L/N)—

I hope this message finds you well.

Attached is my syllabus and class calendar, as well as your contract.

Please read through all of these. Sign the contract when you’re ready and e-mail it back to me at your earliest convenience.

Regards,

Chris

***

 From: Dr. Christopher R. Evans, D. Sc

Miss (Y/L/N)—

I meant to send you Henry’s information as well:

                Henry W. D. Cavill

                Phone: 316-555-2015

                E-mail: hwdc@northeastern.edu

Please message him at your earliest convenience. Like I said, he’s a great person to know!

Regards,

Chris

**

 She replied a quick “thank you” before continuing through her inbox.

***

From: Henry W. D. Cavill

Hi, (Y/N)! It’s nice to “meet” you, I’m Henry.

Chris has told me that you’re the new undergrad TA! That’s pretty impressive, honestly—you’re one of four undergraduate TAs in the entire Sciences department. Anyway, I just wanted to send you this e-mail to introduce myself and let you know that if you need anything, I’m always available. I worked in the school’s library over the summer so if you need me immediately, that’s usually where I spend my free time nowadays.

I’m excited to work with you this semester! Maybe we could grab coffee and get to know each other better before classes start next week? Let me know.

Hope to hear from you soon!

Best wishes,

Cav

**

“Cav?” she read aloud in disgust, “What the hell kind of a nickname is “Cav”?” She hoped that he didn’t expect her to call him that because that was stupid.

At any rate, she could tell that he was much more laid back than Chris, which she was bound to enjoy. As nice as Chris was, she could tell that he was a bit…uptight. Henry, on the other hand, seemed more laid back if she used “Cav” as a form of evidence.

She could tell that he was a bookworm, too, because no-one—no-one she knew, at least—stays in the library unless they had to, or just liked reading.

Clearly he was a different breed.  

She opened a new message to send a quick reply to his.

**

 To: Henry W.D. Cavill

Hi, Henry.

It’s nice to hear from you as well. I’ve heard nothing but good things about you!

I’m free tomorrow afternoon if you want to meet at The Bistro for coffee.

Let me know if that works for you.

Best,

(Y/N)

**

 There. Sweet and simple.

Don’t be confused, either—she wanted this position. It would open some doors for her down the line, especially if she can get on Chris’ good side like Henry clearly has. She just hated formalities. The emails, the “talk to you soon! ”s, the “hope you’re well! ”s… it was too high-strung for her.

She is, though, determined to start everything on a good foot. So she’ll be polite, she’ll wish them well, whatever—she just wanted to ensure that her success as an undergrad student wouldn’t be hindered or jeopardized by her desire to be casual with who’s really her boss and co-worker.

**

The next day, she mustered up the courage to throw on clothes and meet Henry at The Bistro, a café in the main square of the campus. She decided to dress nice, not entirely sure who she was meeting and wanting to make a good impression. Because “Cav” seemed like a decent guy, but you never know.

Honestly, she wanted to cancel but she knew that wouldn’t look good.

She stepped through The Bistro’s doors, the cold air practically smacking her in the face. Normally she would despise the cold, especially on a day like this where it wasn’t too hot and not at all humid; but today, she was grateful for the cold air that enwrapped her frame that was dressed in a black blazer and matching slacks.

She sent a message to Henry letting her know that she was there and sat at a table by the window.

Then she waited.

Ten minutes, then twenty, then thirty.

After forty minutes passed, she gathered her tote, phone, and keys, and made her way to the front door.

Before she could get to the door, a figure bumped into her, her body colliding with his hard chest. “Oh, shit, sorry!” the mass of flesh exclaimed, “I’m running late for a meeting and I didn’t watch where I was going.”

Her eyes met his as she took a step back. He was tall. His long brown hair was brushed behind one ear, cheeks flushed and pale, brown eyes wide.

He was cute.

“Wait,” she replied, “are you Henry?”

“Yeah…so?”

“So?” she glared at him. “I’m (Y/N).”

His eyes widened even more, as if that were possible. “Oh! I’m so sorry I’m late. My car broke down and I ended up having to walk here.” He ran a hand through his hair. “But listen, if you’re still free, I’d love to still talk with you.”

She didn’t have anywhere to be, so why not? “Sure.”

He let out a breath. “Thank you.”

The two of them sat down at the table she picked, him slugging his shoulder bag off his body and onto the floor next to him. He folded his hands on the table and looked at her, watching as she fumbled through her bag for her planner and a pen.

“So,” he started, “it’s nice to finally meet you in person.”

“You, too.” She replied, her eyes not looking up.

“I’m usually the only TA in Chris’ class, so it’s really cool to have someone else around. I can’t tell you how frustrating it is to be the only one proctoring an exam in a class of three-hundred people.”

“Three-hundred people?”

“Yeah. Sometimes it’s less, but that’s the average. It’s full of freshmen, too.”

She finally found her planner and a pen in the depths of her bag. “Are freshmen bad?”

He shook his head, “Not really, they’re just…odd.” He shrugged. “Some of them want to learn, some don’t, and you can tell right away. The ones that want to learn don’t want help—it’s always the procrastinators, the slackers, the ones that don’t care that need you.”

“How is that odd?”

“It’s strange to me, honestly. I didn’t really care either way my freshman year. I wanted to learn but I didn’t care enough to actually try.”

“So what changed? Chris made you seem like you were some mythical being.”

He laughed. She’ll admit, she was lost in his smile for a second. The glint in his eyes and the crinkle in his nose made her smile. “A mythical being?” he repeated. “I’m far from mythical. I think he gushes about me because I take over his office hours for him most days.”

That made her laugh. “Well, he seems to be appreciative of having you around. Hopefully I can be helpful.”

“I’m sure you can be,” he waved her off, “he probably told you that his class wasn’t that bad, but he’s totally lying. My first year helping him was rough—too much shit to do, and not enough time for it to get done.”

That sounded more accurate compared to what Chris told her yesterday. “I figured.”

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, he’s a great professor, and an awesome mentor to have—but sometimes he downplays stuff. He’ll say it’s “no big deal”, and it’ll be like Armageddon for us.”

She nodded slowly. “Any advice for getting on his good side?”

He chuckled. “If he likes you, you’ll know. And if he likes you, he’ll help you out. He’s not at all unreasonable, either; so just tell him what’s up when you have a problem, or if you’re overwhelmed, and he’ll do what he can to help.”

“That’s not what I heard.” She mumbled.

“Well, his students from last year will say he’s a dick, but—and you can’t tell anyone I told you this—” he leaned in closer, whispering, “he went through a nasty divorce last fall.”

So he isn’t married.

“Oh, wow.”

“Yeah. He wasn’t in the best place, but I’ll admit he’s eased up quite a bit so you should be fine.”

“Okay, cool.”

“Anything else you want to know?”

She thought for a moment. “Not really, no.”

He smiled again, “Alright. Well it was great talking with you, and I’m sorry again for being late.”

She shrugged, “Shit happens.”

“You’re exactly right. The meter maids are probably having a field day giving me tickets.” He stood from the table, putting his bag over his shoulder that was covered in a dark green jacket, brushing his hair behind his ears and away from his face.

She stood shortly after he did. “Good luck with that.”

“Oh, trust me, it wouldn’t be anything new for me to have a ticket by now. I’ve gotten five since May.”

Her eyes widened this time. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. The parking on campus is shit, you get in where you can. Open parking spaces are scarce, especially by Franklin Hall…so sometimes I park on the street.”

Street parking is decal only. By the number of tickets he’d obtained, she deduced that he most likely had no decal. “Hence all the tickets.” She finalized.

“Yeah.”

“Criminal.” She shook her head jokingly.

“Guilty as charged.” He held out his wrists to her as if she was putting him in handcuffs. “See you around, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Then he turned and left, moving quickly down the pavement.

—

Tags (dm to be removed): @lady-x-red @justtwhst @lokisbitch27 @boundtomyfate @cyberdoshee @liquorlaughslove @heroine-of-color

[365days365movies]

May 9, 2021: A.I. Artificial Intelligence (2001) (Recap: Part Two)

So, this is an adaptation of Pinocchio, right?

I mean...yeah, it definitely is. It’s a story about an artificial boy, brought to life and given to a parent to raise, learning lessons about humanity all along the way. Hell, they use the Collodi story as an element of the plot, so there’s no way it isn’t an adaptation of the original story. Here, I’ll break it down.

First, he’s given life by Hobby, who represents both his creator and the one who gives the artificial boy life. In other words, he’s a portmanteau of two characters: the Blue Fairy and Geppetto. The latter created him, while the former gives him life. Really, I’d argue that he’s more of the Blue Fairy.

So, who’s Geppetto? Obviously, Monica. She’s the (semi) loving parent that ACTUALLY makes David her son...literally. Remember the Winter Soldier awakening sequence? Monica is a flawed parent who obviously doesn’t quite know how to care for the little artificial boy, similar to how Geppetto is normally portrayed. And, like him, she never gets to teach her new son about the world before releasing him into it.

Of course, Geppetto didn’t physically abandon Pinocchio in the woods, but whatever. At least this Pinocchio’s been left with his Jiminy Cricket. Unlike the traditional version, though, this one is fuzzy.

Teddy, the stuffed bear supertoy, is clearly meant to be Jiminy Cricket, the conscience meant to guide David along his way, and along his journey. He subtly guides David, giving him advice that he sometimes ignores. And, given that David probably wasn’t built with a conscience, it makes sense to give him an internal one. Speaking of, let’s talk about David, because this simile might actually be more important than one would think in understanding this film.

David, of course, is creepy as FUCK. He’s trying hard to be a real boy that his mother can accept, but he’s so goddamn creepy. And initially, I thought that this might just be bad acting or direction. But then, I walked away for a little bit, and I realized something: what if that’s on purpose? Because here’s the thing: David isn’t real. And neither is Pinocchio, but with Pinocchio, you KNOW that.

Pinocchio is, after all, a puppet. And that point is obvious visually, both in the basically flawless Disney film, and in the original book. But David is, after all, played by an ACTUAL real boy, and therefore appears real to the audience. So, how to make him appear artificial? By emphasizing the fact that David’s behavior and actions are not natural. They are programmed and artificial. And so, when the journey begins, David hasn’t yet learned to be a real boy. And therefore, he isn’t yet real. And now, of course, he’s on the journey not only to become a real boy, but also to earn that chance. Just like Pinocchio.

But we’re only one-third through this film, and a LOT more happens in the story of Pinocchio. I’m not suggesting that this movie perfectly follows the book or Disney film by any means, but it’s definitely following some of its structure. And if Pinocchio is known for anything, it’s known for its most iconic villains and adversaries. I’m talking these guys:

And I’m...looking forward to seeing how these guys are adapted? Wait, wait, wait, hold on...I railed HARD against Act One (which you can read right here), whose writing and plot I still think were poorly thought out. But, after this mental recontextualization...am I actually enjoying this movie?

Shit, maybe. Thinking about it in these terms actually helps. OK, Kubrick, Spielberg...hit me with your best shot.

Recap (2/3)

With Act Two, enter Gigolo Joe (Jude Law). Yes. Really.

Gigolo Joe is a “lover Mecha”, a model built specifically for sexual gratification. Joe’s an interesting case, as he’s obviously built to be quite seductive, in a physical and a sensual manner. He’s been hired by a woman trying to get away from her abusive husband, and proceeds to woo her with sweet nothings, easing her discomfort with the idea of sleeping with a Mecha. And I’m gonna be honest: Joe is a CHARMING motherfucker, smooth and slick as a robot ought to be, with the ability to change his appearance and voice to please his customers.

And as I’m watching him, trying to figure out if he’s the Fox or the Cat, or both combined, he’s suddenly framed for murder by the jealous husband of one of his clients! Shit! Understanding exactly how fucked he is, he takes the necessary precautions and removes his identification chip. I’m not entirely sure who he is, but I’m interested in revisiting that plot, that’s for sure.

David, meanwhile, is wandering around in the woods, where he comes up with the idea to find the Blue Fairy from Pinocchio, who will surely turn him into a real boy. But while wandering through the woods, what does he find but another group of robots like himself, scavenging from parts that’ve been dumped in the woods. And the CGI here is absolutely fantastic looking, as the robots outfit themselves with technology.

Also stumbling upon this display is Joe, on the run. But as they all appear in the same place, the moon suddenly rises. And it’s gorgeous.

This is not the Moon, but a gorgeous hot-air balloon from something called the Flesh Fair. With men on the ground on specialized motorcycles called “Hounds”, and with an eye-in-the-sky belonging to commander Lord Johnson-Johnson (Brendan Gleeson). He and his men hunt down Mecha to take them to the Flesh Fair, where robots are destroyed for the sport of human observers.

They chase down and capture all of the robots assembled, including David, Joe, and THIS spectacular special effect.

Yeah, holy shit, that’s amazing.

Anyway, it’s here that David loses his conscience, as Teddy falls out, only to be brought to the Flesh Fair and taken as a lost toy, placed in the lost-and-found. And, now that we’re here, it’s time we acknowledge what this appears to be: Stromboli’s Circus.

Given the fact that the “puppet show” is clearly replaced by the abuse and destruction of robots (including one weirdly resembling and voiced by Chris fucking Rock of all people), and that it has a ringmaster in the form of Johnson-Johnson, this is definitely meant to be a replacement for Stromboli’s puppet show. Albeit, one colored by anti-Mecha racism, but whatever.

A little girl wanders up to the cage where David’s kept, and confuses him for a human child. She goes to her father, who’s astonished by the existence of a robot child, and he goes to Johnson-Johnson, who gives not a single shit, and brings him up to be destroyed with the rest in the flesh fair. Dude REALLY doesn’t like robots. David, understandably scared, has his Damage Avoidance System kick in, and he grabs onto Gigolo Joe for safety, dragging him along to their deaths.

As he’s about to be melted by concentrated acid in front of a crowd (all of whom are affected by seeing a child be melted, robot or not), David cries out in fear. This leads to the audience STRAIGHT-UP REBELLING, as they refuse to believe that David is anything but human. He immediately takes off, alongside Gigolo Joe and Teddy.

We head back to Cybertronics, where it’s revealed that David is actually a facsimile for Hobby’s departed son. Which is...weird. Real talk, this is extraordinarily odd, and Hobby clearly has some massive issues he needs to figure out. In the forest, Hobby and Joe get to know each other. He recommends getting to Rouge City to find the Blue Fairy, whose location they will ask for from a “Dr. Know”, as there is nothing he doesn’t.

Also, Jude Law’s giving a fuckin’ soliloquy about robot prostitution right now, and I’m not gonna lie to you; I can dig it. It’s a Queen Mab speech about gettin’ down on that robodick, and it’s actually quite entertaining. And with that, we not only head to Rouge City, but we also discover who Joe is meant to represent. If Rogue City is Pleasure Island (and it OBVIOUSLY is), Gigolo Joe is meant to be both the Fox (AKA Honest John, AKA J. Worthington Foulfellow), AND Lampwick. Neat! Anyway, Rouge City...

...is not even a little subtle, goddamn. It’s literally a sex-island. And yet, once there, David is introduced to Dr. Know (Robin Williams), a kiosk where you pay for information, which makes me appreciate Wikipedia so goddamn much. To the good Doctor, they ask for the location of the Blue Fairy. And by accurately using keywords (a skill under-appreciated in Google Searches), they get an eerie reading of Hobby’s book, beginning with a Yeats poem.

With this information, they discover that Hobby (and the secret to David becoming a real boy) is at the end of the world, in a place called “Man-hattan”. David is filled with new determination, but Gigolo isn’t quite sure if this is real. David fights back, saying that his mother loves him and that the Blue Fairy must become real. But Joe insists that she likely did not love him, and simply liked how she made him feel. And while David refuses this idea outright...he’s almost certainly correct.

They go outside, and Joe is about to be taken away by the police, presumably for that murdered woman. However, the helicopter they came in is taken by David, who plans to use it to get to Manhattan. Joe escapes and joins him, and the two head to Manhattan.

End Act Two. See you in Act Three!

[hansrillow]

gif makin’

alright! I had a friend say they wanted to learn how to make gifs so: here’s how I do em!

disclaimer: I do it different for non-theatre gifs, but for this im gonna be focusing on giffing theatrical moments

ALRIGHT. first of all: find what you want to gif. download it, take it from YouTube, whatever, you just need to have the file on your computer

then you’re gonna import it. I use photoshop, but there are plenty of other alternatives, but this is what I use because of school. you are going to import video frames to layers

From there, you’ll be prompted to select the portion of your video you want to import! I didn’t screenshot mine, but I'm just giffing the opening of act 2 of bandstand where Johnny walks across the stage

when you import it, you’ll get a little bar like this along the bottom: 

every one of these is a frame of video and my little section is almost 200 frames long, which is WAY too long. my rule of thumb for myself is not to go over 100 frames, but even then I think 100 frames can be kinda lengthy. photoshop sets gifs at 30 frames per second (fps) which means when you export it at 100 frames it’ll be kinda long. if that’s what you want, cool! if not, you just might have to make more gifs for your set or just pick and choose what parts you gif. there’s no real wrong way to do it.

so, I'm going to shorten my gif down to 100 frames, just for the sake of it being that max number for this tutorial. then I'm gonna change the time of each frame by selecting all the frames

then youre gonna click on one of those little .03′s and click ‘other’. I usually go somewhere between .06-.08-ish seconds, but again this is gonna be a thing you have to play around with and figure out what you like personally!

(something I already have done because I've done it before and just left it is that in that bottom left hand corner, there's a thing that looks like this:

you’re going to want to change it so it does say forever, not ‘once’ or ‘three times’ or whatever)

next I’m going to crop the gif. for reference, you’ll see dimensions as (number)x(number), the first number being the width and the second by height. the widest you can make a gif is 540 px on Tumblr, and the length doesn’t really matter as much, since the post can just get longer. 

for this gif I'm going to crop it to about 540x296 (usually I'd do 540x300 but the length of the video is literally 296 px).

next, you’re going to convert to video timeline. then you’re gonna get something like this

then you’re going to select them all (which I already did in the above screenshot) and go layer > smart objects > convert to smart object so that you combine all of those frames into one video layer. then you got one neat little video layer like this

so! if I were to wash my hands and say ‘alright, I'm done’, this is what the gif would look like:

not too awful! but I can make it better. it’s a little dull and the colors are a little....bleh. if you’re gonna gif, play around with the settings yourself! mine are just my preferences

that being said: I try to just get it like the original video, not put my own little spin on it. Since I’m giffing a show people worked very hard to costume, light, etc, I want to show you the exact same thing you see in a video!

I basically took brightness and contrast up to +10 each, called it good esp bc I didnt want to nit pick this

so youre gonna go file > export > save for web

I then use these settings:

AND something important is you’re going to want to do is make sure its 5MB or less. mine is a little bigger, so I'm going to go back, make the gif shorter, and then export it.

NOTE: something I ran into trouble with at first is saving it so it’ll upload. as a precaution I now save everything as “name.gif”, not just “name”

and, drum role please, this is my finished product!

[troop-scoop]

Mistakes & Regrets XVI

Summary: When a trip to your Dad’s hometown of Hawkins goes wrong, you end up in the year 1983, and have to learn how to cope with being stuck in the past.

Pairing: Steve Harrington / Future!Reader (like, a really slow burn)

Warnings: Swearing, 

• • • 

Anne placed a cup of coffee in front of you while you flipped through a magazine, ignoring the photo of Paris Hilton on the cover all the while, having never understood the fascination people had with her.

Looking up at the pink mug you looked at her, confused.

She picked up on the confusion and smiled a bit. “You can eat, drink and get full when you’re here.” She told you, gently scooting the mug towards you in an attempt to not scratch the polished wooden table. 

“I didn’t know that. . .” You told her, picking up the coffee and standing up. 

“Yeah. . . I haven’t told you everything about our abilities.” Anne shrugged a bit, sitting down across from your seat while you pulled the whipped cream from the fridge, walking back to the table. 

“Like?”

“They’re triggered by traumatic events.” She told you, making you stare at her blankly, not moving, as if you’d turned to stone. She gave a nod as if she’d expected your reaction before speaking again. “For me it was when I was two, my dad, sister and cousin died in a car crash when I was in the car with them. I recovered from the trauma when I was thirteen, and they just, went away. They came back a few years ago. I was born with them, we’re just like Eleven, and the others. We just need a little bit more of a push.” “What was mine?” You asked, crossing your arms after you’d put a bit of whipped cream into your coffee. 

Anne had figured out basically everything about you in the two years since you’d been born in her timeline. 

“You know exactly what your’s was.” 

You gave a sad smile and nodded a bit. How could you not? Being in the Upside Down was nothing if not traumatizing. When you choose to just sleep and not ‘Time Walk’ as Anne called it, you would still have nightmares about it. 

Opening your eyes, you could feel a weight on your shoulder. Turning your head a bit you saw Steve turning his own head so his forehead was against your neck, still asleep.

You offered for him to stay at your place for the night. Having never met his parents in person, you didn’t trust whatever lecture his father would have waiting when he arrived home late smelling faintly of alcohol and looking distraught. 

You also offered for him to sleep in your bed. It wasn’t weird, you were friends. But you quickly learned that while he knew the correct distance to keep when sleeping in the same bed as a friend, as soon as he was asleep, he tossed and turned until he had something to hold onto. 

Currently, you were that thing. 

He had an arm over your torso, gently holding onto your elbow while his head was against your shoulder. 

You didn’t know what it was, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It didn’t feel unnatural, like you were being held down by a sleeping teenager whose heart just got broken the previous night. It felt normal, like you’d done it before, even though you hadn’t.

Turning your head, you gently got him to let go of you and eased his head onto the pillow so you could get up.

Once on your feet you looked down at him and saw how tousled his hair was, even though you’d tried all night to get it to stay down and neat. But the tossing and turning probably didn’t help. 

But there was such a stark difference between how he was the night before, his cheeks red from tears, his eyelids irritated because he kept rubbing them to try and stop crying, the wrinkled blazer and black t-shirt. Now, he looked peaceful. Eyelashes brushing against his cheeks, his hair messy. It made him look like a little kid who had calmed down from a tantrum and quickly fallen asleep. 

It was cute. 

Not that you’d ever say that to his face. 

• • •

Days passed, and it seemed like there was a never ending pit of loneliness in the four large walls that made up your boxy apartment. It might as well be a studio. No, because you could make those look nice, a one bedroom apartment? Nearly impossible especially when the landlord wouldn’t let you take down the wall paper or board paneling that took up the bottom half of the walls. 

Who was it who watched Queer Eye in your house? Was it Pa or Dad? You couldn’t remember. But you learned plenty about home design and plenty of other things. This wasn’t a good look. And the carpet was terrible. The yellow themed kitchen would have been remodeled had it been Pa’s choice. 

But he wasn’t here, and you’d never be able to ask him all the questions you wanted to. That was your biggest regret, your last conversation with him being an argument in front of an entire restaurant with your dad and little brother watched, not knowing what to do. 

You hoped he wasn’t tearing himself apart over you being missing. You hoped he didn’t blame himself. But you knew he would be. 

The last thing you said to Pa was that you hated him, and that you hoped he rotted in hell. A statement that was harsh, even for a teenager who was angry. 

The last thing you told your dad was that you loved him, when you left the motel to go explore the town of Hawkins before the restaurant. And you were pretty sure you told your brother to ‘fuck off’ before you left. 

You always did have a better relationship with your dad. 

A knock came from the other side of your front door, and it had you on your feet from the little nest you’d made against the side of your couch. 

You’d given up on any precautions that your fathers had ingrained into you about being a girl. You rarely checked the back of your car when you got in, and went to the store late at night alone. You wore headphones while walking. You’d forget your pepper spray on those walks, and somehow, you were always fine. And the other precaution you’d given up on? Checking the peephole in the door when someone knocked. 

Opening the heavy wooden door, you came face to face with Steve, who stood awkwardly with Dustin next to him, who had his walkie talkie and headset on. 

“Oh this should be good.” You said with a teasing smile while Steve rolled his eyes and brushed past you into the apartment, with Dustin following shortly after.

Closing the door, you watched as Steve went to the living room closet. “What are you looking for?” 

Steve gave an unintelligible grumble as response. Dustin turned his head from looking at Steve while he rumaged through the closet. “The bat.” He clarified. 

“The one with the nails?” 

Dustin nodded. 

“Up in the crawlspace.”

Steve looked at you, confused “You put it in here when I gave it to you?”

You nodded a bit, mouth open a bit, inhaling the cold air that had been let into your apartment. “Yeah, newsflash, Steven, Hopper’s always visiting to make sure I’m not on hardcore drugs,” That part was a joke. “I had to hide it. It’s in the crawlspace.”

“Where the hell is a crawlspace in this apartment?” Steve demanded, getting ready to argue that you were just pulling his leg. 

“Above you, genius.” 

Steve looked up, the hair on his neck now on the collar of his jacket. “Oh.” He stepped onto your shelves and lifted up the opening, before jumping down with the bat, the nails scraping against the wood floor that was only in the closet and not anywhere else in the house.

“Dude!” you yelped seeing a new scratch in the floor.

“Calm down, I’ll fix it when I come back.” He told you, going to your bedroom. You had a terrible feeling about it. So you followed after him, with Dustin following you. 

“Steve, what’s going on?” You asked, watching as he dumped your school bag out onto your bed, grimacing at the crumbs that fell out too. “Steve?”

He looked up at you from the end of your bed, that was still technically a pullout. So really, you had two couches. His expression was soft, a face that was usually used when trying to calm people down, or make them feel safe. And because you knew that, it had the exact opposite effect. “Nothing, probably just a prank.” He told you in a soft voice. 

You shook your head, moving towards him, grabbing his arm. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not.” He whispered to you. “I seriously think it’s a prank.” 

“You’re indulging in a thirteen year old’s prank? By bringing a weapon?” 

“Guys, we don’t have time for your flirting, let’s go!” Dustin shouted from the hall, even though he was close enough to just speak. 

But his words were enough to make you realize how close you’d gotten to your friend, and how you could make out which detergent his mother used on his clothes, and how they were freshly washed because they didn’t smell like a closet, or wooden drawers. 

“I’m coming with you.” You told them, heading to the dresser and pulling out a pair of jeans, pulling them on over your lounge shorts, before digging into another drawer,

“Y/n, I don’t think that’s a good idea- Holy shit, is that a gun!” You looked at Steve, holding the gun case that Hopper had given you, a small pistol inside of it. 

“Yeah.” You responded. “Let’s go. You told him, walking out of the bedroom. 

• • •

Peering into the rearview mirror you saw Dustin staring at the center console, while you sat next to Steve, holding the case in your lap, with your bookbag between your feet on the floorboard. The base of the bat against your knee. 

The heating and radio were on, so currently, you were warm and listening to Queen. 

“Wait a sec, how big?” Steve asked suddenly, quickly looking at Dustin, bringing up the thing you were pretty sure was just a lizard. 

You turned to look at Dustin, seeing him bring up his index and thumb, showing a certain size. “First it was like that.” Then he brought up his other hand, “Now he’s like this.”

“Hmm, terrifying.” You spoke, turning back around, 

“I swear to God, man, it’s just some little lizard, okay?” Steve gestured, keeping his eyes on the road. 

“It’s not a lizard.” Dustin corrected. 

“How do you know that?” You asked, turning back again. 

“How do I know it’s not a izard?” Dustin questioned, looking at you like you just insulted his entire family.

“You heard her, man, how do you know it’s not just a lizard?” Steve raised his voice a bit.

Dustin looked at the headrest of the driver’s seat.”Because his face opened up and he ate my cat.” 

Your eyes went wide, brows raised and mostly frozen in place while you turned to look at Steve who nodded while he pulled into Mrs. Henderson’s driveway.

Following the two males to the cellar, you were uncertain, not knowing if this was serious or not. If you should be worried about what Dustin was saying about whatever he’d put into his cellar. 

Steve pointed the flashlight to the red metal doors, a chain and lock keeping it closed. He held the bat in his other hand, just staring at the door. 

“I don’t hear shit.” He said finally. 

Rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms. “He’s in there.” Dustin confirmed, pointing to the doors. 

What were you supposed to say in this situation? Or even think, or feel? Other than uneasy? Like Steve, Dustin and you weren’t totally safe just standing in front of his house, down the stone path to the cellar. 

Steve tapped the door with the bat, and when nothing happened, he banged on it. Once again, nothing came to the doors. 

You covered your eyes when a bright light quickly brushed over your face before landing on Dustin’s. “All right, listen, kid. I swear, if this is some sort of Halloween prank, you’re dead.”

“Halloween was two days ago, dude.” You reminded. 

“It’s not.” Dustin confirmed, the flashlight still being shone in his face. 

“All right?” Steve asked again. 

“Steve, it’s not a prank, get the light out of his face.” You told your friend, bringing a hand to block to light from Dustin’s eyes. 

“You got a key for this thing?” 

• • •

Looking down in the cellar from where you were, you took a few steps closer, curiosity getting the best of you. “I’ll stay up here in case he tries to escape.” Dustin offered.

“I’ll go down there.” 

It was odd, because in these few moments, you felt like yourself for the first time in a long time. Not afraid of the dark cellar or what Dustin said was down there. Not caring if it was a mini Demagorgon. 

Steve looked at you, although you only looked down at the concrete that was lit up by the flashlight. “You’re not going down there.” 

Smiling a bit, you finally looked at Steve, who was squatted down next to you. “Why not?”

“Because there could be something down there.” He tried to reason with you, even though it was in vain because you walked forward, going down a step before he grabbed your arm, making you stop and look at him. 

“Y/n, please. I’ll go down there, you didn’t even grab the gun.”

Sighing, you looked at Dustin who shrugged a bit while you walked back up the step and let him go down instead. 

The fact that you actually owned a gun, was a bit disturbing. At least to you. After all, your dad refused to let Pa own one. Not wanting one in the house, but completely okay with you at least knowing how to shoot one. Thinking back on it, that was also strange. 

But what bothered you right now, was that you couldn’t go down with Steve. You didn’t like that he was down there alone with just a flashlight and baseball bat filled with nails. 

“You’re cold?” Dustin asked, grabbing your attention. You looked at him, brows furrowed in confusion. 

“What?”

He gestured to your arms that were covered in goosebumps, which was when you realized you walked out of your apartment in baggy jeans, and your favorite t-shirt, even though it was almost winter. 

“Guess so.” You shrugged a bit, your mind wandering back to Steve impatiently and worridly tapping your foot while looking down the stairs. “Steve, you good?” You asked, grabbing Dustin’s shoulder in a protective manner when Steve came into view at the bottom of the stairs, pointing his flashlight up at you two. 

“Get down here.” 

You were the first to come down the stairs, noticing what seemed to be a layer of wet skin that had been shed hanging off of the bat while you grabbed the sleeve of Steve’s jacket. 

“Oh shit.” Dustin mumbled seeing the skin, but you could feel the same reaction come on when Steve pointed his flashlight to the corner, revealing where Dustin’s ‘pet’ had broken through the stone wall and tunneled through the dirt like he was trying to get to China. 

“Holy shit.” You mumbled while Dustin shouted “Oh shit!” at the same time as you. 

“So you weren’t pulling a prank.” You spoke up, your grip on Steve getting a bit more firm while you looked at the hole. “We're so fucked.”

• • • 

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[lost-tanuki-whump]

Prompt Challenge: Out in the cold Cast: The Disaster Five Word count of the chapter: 6,4k

***

His small body laid inanimate in the humid ditch where they'd left him to freeze to death. The stench of slowly rotting corpses surrounded him. The cloudy green skies above ebbed back and forth in distorted waves as his vision blurred again and again. He wheezed faintly in the cold, tiny bursts of breath rising in irregular bursts. The muzzle cut deeply in his blistering, infected skin and his waterlogged fur pulled him down deeper in the muddy trench. It hurt. Each desperate inhale, each heave of his narrow chest felt like it might be the last. He was so tired.

He'd stopped shaking a while ago. He didn't know how long he'd been lying there and he was scared that they'd throw more bodies on top of him, and he was scared because he was lying on top of a mountain of bodies himself, and he was scared because he knew he was about to die and there was nothing he could do about it. Something inside of him dully ached, a longing for his forgotten past, for a time when everything had been soft and warm and safe. But it hurt too much. It was too cold. It was too lonely. He just wanted it all to be over.

There was the sound of heavy footfalls from a distance, and then it stopped, and something landed in the ditch with a dull thump. A big shadow appeared on the edge of his vision moments later but he didn't try to look at it. It would be too tiring. The shape shortened and came closer. An arm, then, stocky and furry and brown, reached down to touch him. He thought of snarling. He didn't move, because all he could do was lay there and breathe slow and shallow.

"Oh..." The arm shifted, and then a hoarse call rang out in the still air. "I've found one!"

Silence. It felt short and eternal at the same time. Then a quicker set of footsteps approached and a modulated voice from above exclaim in a pleased tone: "A fuli! How rare."

"Did I do good?"

"You did great. Bring it up here, be careful not to hurt it."

Giant hands scooped him off the pile of corpses with ease. His body loudly protested at the jostling and he hissed feebly from within the thick arms that were cradling him. Pain burned anew along his muzzled snout where it rubbed against moist fabric that covered a large chest, but he was too weak to move his head away. He couldn't move his limbs to claw at the person holding him. No one reacted to the noise he'd made. Maybe they hadn't heard it. He felt everything around him move, his body rocked painfully, the person holding him grunted a few times as they climbed out of the ditch and then stopped again.

"Let me see." Fingers lightly touched the side of his muzzle, then laid on his chest. He couldn't fight against the unwelcome touch. The light voice said: "Ah, it doesn't seem to have much time left. We have to hurry."

The rocking started again. It hurt too much. Everything was spinning and cold. The voices talked but he couldn't listen to anything anymore, and then he just stopped hearing.

* * *

A soft chiming sound woke him up from his slumber. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the pale light that surrounded him in peaceful shades of green. His entire body was heavy and aching so he didn't try to move. He was lying on a firm, soft surface and it was warm. He felt very sleepy. Something flapped ahead of him and his ears pricked in the direction of the sound, a faint alarm pulsing through him. He sluggishly moved to see where the threat was standing.

A tall, thin man was sitting in a chair in front of him. His skin was an opaque green like the surface of a pond at dawn, his ears were long and membranous, and his short feathery hair shimmered like dark oil. He wore clothes of clear blue and teal fabric draped over his arms and chest and lap. The man lifted a vibrant green gaze to him, and from the inner corner of two of his three eyes grew thin curved appendages that hung down to frame his mouth. A genial smile appeared on his lips.

"Hello."

His voice was the same as the light one, but he was speaking in sounds that were very familiar, more than those of the language he'd used earlier by the ditch. He closed the strange flat box he was holding in his long hands to put it aside, and then he gracefully touched thin fingers to his scaled chest.

"Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Asther. I know you are a fuli, so you must have the ability to understand this language." He then gestured towards him. "Can you tell me your name?"

The fuli's mind flashed with red when he saw the hand move towards him and he snapped his jaws at it, but he was jerked back at the neck and fell over. He froze when he realized he'd been able to snap his jaws. His mouth wasn't clamped shut anymore.

"Now, now," lightly chided Asther as he tranquilly retrieved his hand. "I mean you no harm. I won't touch you unless it is absolutely necessary. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

The fuli kept a wary eye on the man and slowly, carefully sat up to take stock of the situation. He didn't have a muzzle anymore, but when his paws reached up to feel for the thing that had pulled him back when he'd lunged at the man, they touched something supple that circled all the way around his neck. He gnashed his teeth together and a low growl rumbled at the back of his throat. He knew what this probably was, but he was confused by it because it was similar to a collar but wasn't as hard or as restrictive as the ones he knew. It didn't hurt. It didn't choke him and was a bit loose, but was small enough that he couldn't slip his head out of it. He didn't try more than once because he was too tired to keep trying to push and pull at it. The fuli ended up slumping back down in the soft sheets that surrounded him. He was so hurt and exhausted that he couldn't even sit up for long. He growled low in his throat again, as a warning. The man didn't react to it.

"There was no need for that horrible device they tied to your face, but as you can see, we needed to put this on as a precaution. Poor things like you have a tendency to bite for any reason at all once we've brought them out of the trench. It is to be expected," continued Asther. "I promise that I will take away your collar once that habit of yours is gone. Now, do you have a name?"

The fuli continued eyeing the tall man, tense and on edge. He understood what was being said but he didn't answer. Couldn't.

Asther's smile softened. "That's quite all right, many don't really like to talk at first. I will call you Fenn. Can you tell me if there are any injuries in particular that are bothering you, Fenn?"

The fuli suddenly realized that while he was hurting all over, his snout wasn't burning anymore. He quickly touched light paws to his nose and felt the mess of dried blood, scabs and scar tissue beneath his fingers, but... it didn't hurt. And he felt better, not hazy like before, not like he was burning up. His vision was clearer and his surroundings were neat. He looked up at Asther, confused. Was this the man's doing?

A creak rang out and the fuli jumped, his head snapping to the other side of the room where the wooden door had opened. A heavyset individual with amber eyes and a few sharp teeth protruding from a strong jaw hurried inside. The fuli recognized the brown fur on those stocky arms and realized this was the person who'd carried him out of the ditch.

"Asther," the stranger started, and then he cringed when they all heard a crash and shrill shrieks coming from behind him. The fuli burrowed further into his sheets, hackles raised, lips pulled back in a snarl. Now that the door was opened he could hear all the noises coming from beyond the room and he understood that there were many more people in this place. He didn't like it. He'd have to fight soon.

Asther turned to the newcomer, his three slanted eyes narrowing slightly, and said in the language they'd used at the ditch: "Cohb, I told you not to disturb us."

"I'm sorry, but Nit and Sann are fighting again, Cadd got hurt, Senn is afraid, Orn went to hide and I don't know what to do," answered Cohb in a rush. His eyes were wide and his pointed ears laid flat against his skull. "I cared for Cadd but I couldn't find Orn and I need help for the rest, they won't listen to me!"

Asther slowly pushed back his chair before standing up, the distance between them widening enough that the fuli didn't feel that he needed to prepare for an attack, and ordered: "Come with me, then."

"What about the fuli?"

"He will be better alone here than if you stay behind with him. Come."

Both men walked out and the wooden door closed on their backs. It was quiet anew. The fuli stayed on his guard for a long while before he was sure that no one was coming back yet, and he let himself fall back down on the bed. The collar didn't make noise. It was different from the metal one. It didn't hurt, just like Asther hadn't tried to hurt him.

Fenn.

It was different from the words like "rat" and "runt". Asther had said it calmly. It sounded like a normal word. Did it mean something, or was it really just a name? The fuli gazed up tiredly at the wide ceiling patterned in dark blue lines and spirals against white ceramic. The light was gentle. He was tired but he didn't want to sleep. He didn't want to be caught off guard when they'd come to throw him in another fight. He knew it was only a matter of time. He'd have to feed soon.

* * *

"Wake up, Fenn."

The fuli jolted awake and jumped back with a loud hiss, readying himself for a kick. It didn't come. He didn't recognize his keeper until he realized that the person standing in front of him was not his keeper at all, and that he wasn't in his cell but in the bedroom. Asther hadn't moved towards him. He was holding a flat tray with four bowls on it. It smelled good.

"I brought you food. There's a little bit of everything, you don't have to eat it all if you don't want to. Here," said Asther as he slowly lowered everything on the bed. He'd changed tongues again and the fuli couldn't help but feel a little more at ease hearing this language rather than the other one. It was comforting in its familiarity and tugged at an aching spot in his chest. Still, he remained cautious as he watched every one of Asther's moves very closely. Food like this was usually a trap. He waited for the thin hands to lash out and grab him, ready to bite and claw, but they didn't. Asther simply straightened and stepped back.

"I'll let you eat alone now, but we'll have to talk again once you're done. Most importantly, Fenn, you have to know that you will not fight anymore. This is the way you'll be getting your food from now on, at set hours of the day and without needing to get hurt or to hurt anyone for it." Asther pointed at the fourth bowl, graciously and carefully as always, as if to show what he was meaning to do before even completing the movement. "This one is water. You'll have to finish that bowl, Fenn, because right now that is what's most important to your recovery. Do you understand?"

The fuli watched him but didn't move or answer. He didn't trust any of this. Asther gazed back, and then instead of getting angry for his lack of cooperation, he smiled gently like earlier.

"I can tell that you do. But you're scared, aren't you? You've suffered a lot and it's difficult to believe that all that is over now. I understand. It's all right, however, we'll keep you safe." Asther showed him the door. "You heard a lot of noises out there, earlier, and that must have scared you. They're all people like you so you don't need to fear them. When you're ready, I can even let you meet them. But for now, all I ask of you is to eat, drink, and rest. Perhaps you'd even like to clean up at one point. Doesn't that sound nice? Your fur is a mess so you might not be able to groom it all by yourself, but I could help you."

The fuli quickly glanced down at himself. His fur was still exactly like it had been in the cell, matted, crusty, filled with knots, mangled in many places and not even looking like fur anymore. He could see the filth he'd left behind on the sheets. He warily looked back up at Asther and growled. He didn't want help. He didn't want anyone getting close to him.

Asther promptly appeased him. "Now, now, don't get upset, I won't do it if you don't want me to. We're not there yet, anyway. Go on and eat."

The tall man turned around and left just like he'd said he would, and the fuli was left staring at the four bowls all by himself. The smell of food filled the air. Saliva pooled in his mouth and his stomach clenched painfully. He hesitantly shuffled out of his nest, stopped, glanced at the door. No one was coming. He looked around the room from his spot on the bed but it seemed he was truly alone. He double checked, just to be sure, and then scooted a little closer. He slowly reached out with one of his front paws, poked at the closest bowl and quickly retreated in his burrow of bedsheets. He listened closely to his surroundings. Nothing happened.

The fuli emerged again and poked at the bowl a second time, then at the other bowls, but still didn't get in trouble for it. Finally he grabbed one, brought it back with him in his makeshift shelter, plunged both hands in it and started stuffing his mouth as fast as he could. He sullied the bed with his messy eating but didn't care or notice, too busy filling his belly, getting more ravenous with each bite as his body was finally given the nutrients it had been denied for so very long.

When Asther returned long after, everything was gone, even the crumbs that had fallen everywhere in the bed.

"You seemed to have liked the food," observed Asther as he came closer to retrieve the tray. "Was there anything you liked in particular?"

The fuli peered at him from his burrow. He hadn't really noticed if one thing had tasted better than the other since he'd been too focused on finishing everything. It didn't matter anyway.

Asther stared at him for a little bit and then lightly nodded as if something had been said, and he put the tray on the table near the chair which he sat in next. There he stayed silent, watching the fuli.

"Maybe you are afraid to talk to me," Asther eventually said in a soft voice. "Or maybe they've made you forget that, too. I wonder how long you were made to wear that horrible muzzle. Too long, certainly. Poor thing." He looked away, his pale lips set in a thoughtful line. Everything was quiet. Then he looked back up and said: "I won't ask you to trust anyone, of course, not after everything you've gone through. However, Fenn, I think it is of the utmost importance that you relearn things like talking, grooming, socializing, playing. You are not a brainless fighting animal. You are a very young, intelligent fuli. We can help you remember that with a bit of time."

Asther stood up again and went to the side of the room opposite to the big wooden door to stand at the corner where a smaller, narrower door was located. He turned to look at the fuli to show him how he actioned the handle and then partially stepped inside.

"This is the bathroom. I know fulis are very adept swimmers, so I think you would enjoy it if I ran you a bath. It would also help untangle your fur and make it easier to groom if you soaked in water for a little while."

Asther disappeared from the fuli's view, who listened attentively to the sounds of very light squeaking and then loud running water. The sound sparked sudden memories and he remembered wet grass, sunlight, rolling pebbles and a babbling brook. His dark paws in the water, wobbly beneath the current. Slick, perfect gray fur. Splashing. Laughter.

The fuli blinked and the image vanished, leaving behind only the sight of his now damaged skin. There had been a time when he'd been perfectly healthy and happy. He remembered it. His heart ached. There had been the water currents and the wide expanses of grass, there had been others like him, there had been... It didn't matter. He couldn't think of those things. It hurt too much to think of those things when he was trapped and could never go back. He'd been caught and injured and starved and made to fight and he'd killed and maimed so that he could just survive, so he could just eat, because he didn't want to die.

But he didn't have the muzzle anymore. He wasn't in the cell anymore. There was food and water in his belly and he felt better than he had in a very long while. Strong enough, maybe, to run. The fuli was suddenly hit with the realization of what this meant. He could go back. He could find a way.

His decision taken, the fuli braced himself against his collar and pushed. It was too small to slip past his jaw, but not by much. He slipped his claws between his neck and the collar to try and pry it off, but it remained stuck. His fur was too dry and knotted for the collar to smooth over. The fuli growled to himself in frustration and started clawing at the supple fabric. He hurt himself in the process, enough to draw blood. It was only an inconvenience until he noticed that it made everything more slippery. It was helping.

Asther stepped back out of the bathroom. "Now, Fenn, I'm going to- Fenn?"

Panic fueled the fuli's frantic attempts at escaping the collar when he saw the tall man was looking at him and he scratched at his own skin with renewed vigor.

"Fenn! Stop that!" Asther raised his voice for the first time and rushed forth to stop him.

He grabbed the line to the collar just as the fuli finally popped his head free and rolled away from the man in a hasty, uncoordinated flurry of limbs. He tumbled off the bed and hit the ground hard enough to be stunned for a few precious seconds, but then the sound of Asther's footsteps hurrying around the bed sent adrenaline coursing through his blood. He suddenly shot up and ran. The room wasn't big and the wooden door was closed so the only remaining option was to hide under the table, and the small fuli quickly slithered beneath it. Asther didn't chase after him.

"Fenn," he called out. "I know the collar is not something you like, but it's only there to ensure you won't bite anyone. Do you understand? I am not putting it on you so that you can't move. I could let you roam freely around this room if I was certain you wouldn't try to hurt me or anyone who lives here."

The fuli hid far against the wall and waited, shaking. It wasn't that he was cold.

Asther sighed. "If I'd known you would rather hurt yourself like this than ask me to remove it, I wouldn't have put it on in the first place. Come out, please. You've hurt yourself and I'd like to assess the damage."

The fuli looked around. The table wasn't an ideal hiding spot at all, and under the bed would be better, but Asther had very long arms and it seemed that he'd be able to try and catch him either way.

"You can hide under that table as long as you want, Fenn, but I'm not leaving until I've had a good look at where all this blood is coming from."

The lacerations he'd inflicted on his throat throbbed and he could feel blood still trickling down his dirty fur, but it didn't hurt. All the fuli wanted was to get out of this room. He watched Asther's flat palmed feet and the bottom of his thin legs move away from the bed and back into the bathroom, but stayed put. It was obviously a trap. Asther would wait until he got out from under the table to try and catch him again, and then he'd probably find a tighter collar to fit him with and there wouldn't be another chance like this to be free.

The fuli waited. There were sounds coming from the bathroom, like Asther was rummaging around in a cupboard. He felt too exposed under the table so he crept closer to the edge and, once he was sure that the coast was clear, darted to the bed and scrambled to hide far in the corner. It was darker here, but it felt narrower and safer. Asther didn't reappear. The fuli looked around yet again, hoping to find some opening he hadn't yet seen, but there were none. All he could see was the dribbling trail of blood he'd left behind. He was truly trapped in this room.

When Asther came back, he crouched next to the bed. The fuli felt his hackles raise when he saw the three green eyes stare at him, and a low growl spilled from his throat as the man's long arm unfolded closer, but all Asther did was drop some clean towels in front of him as well as some squares that smelled strongly of herbs.

"Fine, you win. I want you to stop that blood from flowing, all right? You have to clean it away with the towels and then you'll stick one plaster to each big wound. You can do that, can't you, Fenn?"

The fuli glanced at all the supplies and then back at Asther, mistrustful. What if he tried to grab him while he was distracted? He wouldn't fall for that.

The man pointed a finger at him. "Just do it, will you? And do it well. If it's still not done by the time I come back then I'll have no choice but to do it myself."

Then Asther got to his feet and walked around the bed to go open the wooden door, and he left the room for good. The fuli waited for a bit before he hurried to the towels. He remembered how to quell a blood flow, he'd been taught- didn't remember when or how but he knew. He bunched one of the towels and pressed it to his throat where the throbbing was most intense, and with his other paw he picked up one of the strange squares. This, however, he didn't remember ever having seen before. He brought it close to take a quick sniff and scrunched up his nose because the smell was overpowering. Then he tasted it with a quick flick of his forked tongue and immediately threw his head back in disgust.

It was definitely nothing he knew about and he wasn't sure if he really wanted to use these. He let go of the square and let it flutter to the ground, pressing the towel harder to his skin with both hands, and he waited. It started to hurt after a while, as if his skin was starting to work again now that it wasn't buzzing with nerves anymore. He withdrew the towel a few times to check, and was satisfied to note that the bleeding was lessening even without the use of Asther's medicine.

The fuli decided that now was a good time as any to freely investigate the room since his movements were no longer limited by the collar. He scampered out of the cover of the bed and made a lightning round of the bedroom walls and even of the bathroom, and then returned to his starting point next to the bed. He looked up. The high window seemed to be taunting him, showing him the green open skies of an outside world he couldn't reach. The fuli settled on his haunches and then stood on his hind paws. His attention had been drawn to a part of the window which looked like some kind of puzzle. Even if it was obviously meant for Asther's height, he estimated that he could close the distance if he jumped to it from the table.

The fuli dropped the towel and skittered to the chair to push it closer to the table, then easily jumped up on the seat and then the table top. From there, he studied the window part. The only purpose he could associate with it was a latch but it seemed like a particularly complicated one to use, with some kind of knob and slide system. That was fine, he could figure it out. The fuli took a moment to assess the leap between the table and the latch. He wouldn't hurt himself from this height if he missed his target and landed on the ground, but he wanted to manage it in one go. He couldn't afford to lose time when Asther could come back at any moment and see what he was doing.

He backed up to gain momentum and then shot forward and lunged off the table. One of his paws slid off the latch but the other managed to grab onto it and his shoulder jerked. He quickly scrambled to hang from the window by all four of his paws for a more secure grip. He pushed and pulled at the latch in every direction until finally, he felt it give under his fingers. He pushed to slide it free and then focused on the knob. He failed several attempts at deciphering how it worked because no amount of pulling, pushing, wiggling or biting helped, but somehow he ended up actioning it the right way when he was changing positions because the knob turned between his foot and hand and he heard it click. Turning. That was what it was!

The fuli turned the knob all the way around and felt a thin draft slip between the window and its frame, and he knew he'd succeeded. He quickly kicked the latch free and swung his body back and forth to pull the window all the way open, jumped down, climbed up the chair and table again and threw himself on the windowsill. He took in the wondrous sight of the outside, felt the cold air against the wet patches of his bloody fur, stinging his eyes, and he stood there bewildered by the strange appearance of the landscape. Everything was covered in a layer of flat, pure white matter, thicker in some spots than in others. It looked soft. He'd never seen anything like it before.

The fuli shook himself out of his stupor and looked around him. The strange airy white matter was also layering the window stool in front of him so he cautiously reached down to touch it. It was cold and it didn't hurt. He scooped some up to sniff and taste it. It wasn't similar to anything he knew but it made him think of metal, somehow. At any rate, it didn't seem dangerous and he needed to leave. The fuli started cautiously scaling the way down along the wall, pausing every time he heard a suspicious noise, and he managed to reach the ground without getting caught. He hopped down into the fluffy matter, only to feel his body weight crush it into a more compact consistency. This stuff really was very strange, but he decided that he liked it because it would probably be fun to play in it with another person. But with who? It was a useless thought, he was on the run. The fuli focused on making his way out of this place and darted forward.

It was difficult. Even if the stuff was light, it still hampered his movements and slowed him down, on top of which it left an easy trail for anyone to hunt him down. He understood that the stuff was solid water because it had started to soak his fur where it melted, but he didn't care as much about that discovery as he cared about the fact that this meant he was all wet and that the blood that was washed away was staining the footsteps he left behind.

The fuli started to get cold and his body grew numb, but he didn't stop. He avoided all the living beings he could avoid. He tried to hide his tracks as best as he could by climbing through and over shrubbery and fences, up trees so they'd break the trail, always on the move even though he had no clue where he was going. The plan was to put as much distance between himself and anyone who'd try to catch him, maybe find a place to hide and rest, and then seek out information on his whereabouts. He had no idea how exactly he'd go back to the place that he wanted to find again, but he'd figure it out.

His progress slowed considerably the longer he spent out in the cold. He was getting hungry and tired again. Even though he'd stopped bleeding, he felt weak. It was very cold and his head felt like it was stuck in the muzzle again, except there was no muzzle, he made sure all the time. Still, there was a tight sensation like a vise all around his skull. He was shaking so much that he stumbled and fell a few times. He remembered how warm he'd been in that bed. He half-wished he could be back there, if only he could be certain that no one would force restraints on him again. No, he had to go home. He had a home somewhere, he remembered that. Where there was laughter, and babbling brooks, and grass on warm sunny days. Others like him.

The fuli tripped and hit the ground, and this time his body felt too heavy to get up again. He was a bit dizzy, a bit drowsy. His tail swept up some of the fluffy solidified water as he curled up right there. He couldn't feel his paws anymore, or his face, or his back, or his belly. It was nice lying here. He was warm and sleepy again. He was so very sleepy. He didn't want to have to move ever again.

"Fenn!"

The fuli made a face when he heard the voice calling his name from afar and curled up in an even tighter ball. He didn't want to be found, he was tired of being found.

"Fenn!"

He heard soft crunching sounds and felt defeat settle deep inside of him when the footsteps came closer and closer. He didn't uncurl, kept his face hidden under his paws. He heard, more than he saw, something heavy land next to him.

"No, no... Fenn?"

A huge hand laid over him, and then thick fingers slipped under his chin to coax his head up. The fuli blinked and saw Cohb's hulking shape looming over him.

"Oh," the big man breathed a sigh of relief. "You're alive."

The fuli tried to pull away from him but had no such success. Cohb picked him off the ground in one hand and slipped him inside the flap of his coat, supporting him with his other arm, and then started running back the way they'd come from.

"You're one crazy kid. Why did you run off in the middle of the snow? You had us worried, you know, and I wouldn't have found you if there'd been a new draft of snow! You could've died! What do I know, you might not even be out of the woods yet. Oh, I hope you're not sick. What did you have to do this for, we've been looking out for you! No, I know, I know it's never easy but-" He stopped, and when he spoke again, it sounded like he was trying to bargain with him even though he'd been talking by himself from the start. "Fenn, I know it's difficult. I've been there too. But Asther's a good person, he saves us. He saved me, and he saved all the others, and he's trying to save you too. Please let him."

The fuli heard all of it, but he was nodding off despite the running, and he fell asleep in Cohb's arms a second time.

* * *

Water sloshed next to his ears. He was warm and floating and it smelled of flowers. There was a male voice humming softly above him and tips raking through his fur. It felt nice and he shivered at the tingly sensation. The humming stopped.

"Are you awake, Fenn?"

The fuli blinked and looked up. He was in the bathroom.

"How are you feeling?" asked Asther. He was holding some kind of tool in his hand. When he noticed that the fuli was staring, he explained: "This is a brush. I was using it to clean your fur." He lowered it to the edge of the tub. "You got into quite a bit of trouble, didn't you? I really shouldn't have underestimated you."

"Are you warmer yet?" rumbled Cohb's voice above the fuli, who twisted around and noticed for the first time that it was the big man's hands that were holding him afloat.

Asther chuckled. "Well, seeing how nimble he is, I think the answer is yes."

"He was colder than an icicle when I found him," mumbled Cohb.

"Let's hope you didn't catch anything," Asther told the fuli. "But, if you did, it's all right. I have a lot of medicine, even if you don't seem like the kind to enjoy it very much."

It took a moment for the last dregs of confusion to clear from his conscience, but when the fuli finally understood the situation, his first reflex was to bite the arm closest to him. Cohb winced.

"Ah, there it is," said Asther as he quickly backed up. "Let him go."

Cohb complied and stepped back too, letting the fuli splash to the bottom of the tub. He quickly pushed on his hind paws to get his head out of the water, shook it hard enough to spray droplets everywhere, and then glared at them both.

"That's what you get for biting," Asther told him, and even if it sounded like he was trying to be stern, there was a smile at the corner of his lips.

"Don't worry, you didn't hurt me," said Cohb.

The fuli wished he had. He was very fed up of getting handled like that just because he was smaller and Cohb was bigger.

"Just so you know, the latch is blocked now," Asther informed him. "You won't have a collar anymore but as long as you keep biting, you aren't allowed to meet the others in the house. And you can try to run out of the room but we'll put you right back inside. No more running out in the snow, or in any other kind of weather for that matter, until you get your senses back. Is that clear?"

The fuli sunk back into the water and quickly eyed his escape routes before narrowing his eyes at Asther again.

"I know you don't agree with it, but after you put your life in danger today, you have to understand that this is for your own good." Asther went to the door. "We'll let you clean up now. Don't get into any more trouble, all right, Fenn?"

The fuli was also very fed up of being called a name that wasn't his. He didn't think when his mouth moved around words for the first time since he'd seen a babbling brook, didn't realized he'd talked before he'd already growled: "Not Fenn."

Asther stilled, and so did Cohb mid-step. Both looked at him.

Asther smiled at him approvingly and said: "Then what should we call you by? What's your name?"

The question rushed through the fuli like a cold wind. When Asther has asked the first time, there had been no words in the fuli's mind to fill the void of the answer he'd been waiting for. Now, after slowly getting closer to his conscious self that had been beaten down by the ring fighter, the fuli realized he didn't know. He realized that he'd forgotten. He'd forgotten his own name. He stared at them with wide eyes.

Asther's smile dissipated after too long a moment had passed. Cohb looked like he'd understood what was happening from the start, and his amber eyes were sad.

"Well," softly said Asther. "You understand that it'll have to be Fenn for now."

The fuli looked down and then curled up in the warm bath. The two men left.

Fenn miserably gazed at his ebbing reflection in the water.

[yuvon-writes-letters]

[Right on the top of the letter is a sighing girl drawn]

I really thought I could rest a few days before leaving. Like last time, ya know? I could've been more prepared. Didn't even get the call yet.

But I guess you're right. Exactly when you figured it out Jake did, too. (With a little bit help of goldie. They sent him the Tumblr conversation. The whole conversation. Without any comment.)

So yeah, either the MWAF knows where I work or (and that is a scary thought) even is there somehow sometimes.

Jake wanted me to promise to not go back there, but I couldn't. At least not for now. I want to go back there once, for now I shouldn't be in danger. At least not if he goes the same way as last time.

I should get a call from him later that day. And tomorrow I should find the raven note on my desk (after my lunch break). Later that day I saw the first time a guy with a mask. Then again the morning after I took the picture I sent TSB.

And that same evening I started hiding.

So I thought I still had some time...But it seems that isn't the case.

I would love to take Max, even though he can be a real asshole sometimes, but I don't believe that is clever. [The writing becomes shaky, almost unreadable to the end of the sentence]

I don't know anything anymore, just that I don't want all of this to happen again...

[Here are many ink blots, as if a pen was thrown on the paper]

Sorry..Sorry about that. My door bell started ringing. Surprise surprise, my idiot of a cousin. (I still love him though. Even if I'll never forgive him that he stole designs of me. Urgh. Sorry, nervous.)

He thought I acted weird when we texted earlier and my boss wanted him to check up on me.

What does a nervous little fox Liska do? (Little fox is a nickname he gave me when we were little xD I somtimes start using it when we're both in a weird situation)

He almost called the police, thinking I was in some weird 'abusive relationship' with, and I quite, "this Jake asshole".

It seems someone wrote him a text. An unknown number.

I already texted Jake about that..Any my guess is that the MWAF realised that he couldn't hack Jake anymore. So he tries different ways.

But it's fine now, I think I could convince him that everyone was okay. Even though now I have to take vacation with him. He wants to go tomorrow afternoon if I don't want him to call my parents. Why? That if I'm lying I'm not in danger anymore.

I mean, he's not fully wrong. Just that he doesn't have the facts right. (Which he couldn't. I'm still surprised that me being a suspect of kidnapping Hannah or helping a wanted hacker didn't go beyond Duskwood. But that's good.)

Oh and also, Jake just answered, he thinks it's good if I just go with Max in the moment. I think he stalked his Facebook profile. (Max did taekwondo for many years. Facebook tells his story)

But yeah, I am very sorry if this is an unsorted letter, not much happened and still many unsaid thoughts crossed my mind.

Liska🐾🔥

Ps. Also Jake wants me to thank the both of you for taking care of me when he couldn't. And still doing it.

And that I say that he's still not pleased with my decision to go to work tomorrow.

Lis,

So, Goldie's really taking more of an active role, now. I sort of thought they were finished until we massively fuck up again, but I guess they just don't want us to ask them questions or something. Interesting.

I wonder if that means the TSB timeline is still continuing

So the raven note on your desk comes tomorrow? I really wouldn't assume you're safe 'til then, but I guess if your Jake can't convince you, no one can XD

Still. Maybe now-ish would be a good time to take a long trip somewhere sunny. And crowded. Preferably with as many people as possible, who will notice if you go missing.

This is not going to happen again. We have several Jakes and two fairly smart people plus me helping you, PLUS an entity on your side, PLUS the advantage of knowing AND HAVING DOCUMENTATION on exactly how the previous timeline went. All we have to do is figure out a place you'll be safe, and bam, we're done.

...That's a pretty good opportunity, honestly. I agree with your Jake, you should go with your cousin. Though I'm curious what exactly the MWAF said to your cousin that convinced him that you were in danger. You might want to make sure that, a., the MWAF didn't suggest a location and you're not going there, b., your cousin turns off GPS tracking on his phone or just leaves it at home, and c., that your cousin doesn't post pictures of you on social media wherever you go.

Don't worry about the letter not being neat and stuff, I don't care too much about that. As long as

One sec Jessys texting me

Nothing important, she's still trying to test if I've been kidnapped or not without saying it outright. I lost my train of thought from earlier. Oh well.

You're welcome, Jake :) And I definitely emphasize with you on that one -_-

Passing the letter over to my Jake now.

(The handwriting changes to Jake's.) Hello, Lis.

Your workplace is very clearly an unsafe environment, but upon reflection and having read ahead and read Max's offer, I believe you actually should go into work, at least for the day. It will give less of our cards away to the enemy. However, do be vigilant. We know that our actions have already changed the timeline to at least some extent, the breadth of which is still unclear.

I am not entirely sure what the kidnapper would gain from having your cousin watching carefully over you in the window of time the kidnapper would have taken to track you down, however. Could it be possible that Goldie was the one to send your cousin the message, rather than the kidnapper?

I concur with Yuvon that the previous timeline's events will not repeat, however, for the exact same reasons she listed, though I will edit it slightly: we have three Jakes and three intelligent people working on the case, including Yuvon. I think I may need to speak with her about this.

Most of the advice I would have given about precautions for the vacation with your cousin has already been covered by Yuvon :)

You are welcome, Jake.

I noticed that in my agitation from your last letter, I accidentally skimmed over some key points. My apologies. I'll answer them now.

I will attempt to find a good point to bring up the matter with her, but she is busy enough trying to mitigate the concerns of the "Crow Crew" that I do not think that should be done at the current moment.

While I am... fond of the "underlying desire" theory, I do not, on reflection, believe it. The fact that she would subconsciously choose me, rather than a family member or a friend she has known longer than myself, seems unlikely. Especially not when she had been quite incensed at me very, very recently. It simply makes no sense.

Though, admittedly, if the situation was reversed, she would likely be

The stasis wavering is both good and bad news. It has been both a benefit and a detriment thus far. Ensure that the group does not draw the kidnapper's ire instead, without alerting them that you are in danger, should they break loose of the stasis alone. Until then, based on the results from Yuvon previously contacting them, I suggest you avoid contact unless they open communication first.

Good luck, Lis and Jake.

—Jake & Yuvon

(The letter tucks itself into the paper clip with the others.)