#it’s almost midnight I should not be permitted to think about my emotions

[deadmountaindaughter]

lena raine infinite amethyst unlocks a secret emotion and every time it plays in the game I have to stop everything I’m doing and stare off at the horizon until it’s over and then somehow try to be normal again having experienced that

[waterfallfantastico]

THE WITCH’S TOWER

(A high-fantasy wg romp) 

Chapter One- The Brilliant Plan

“Come on Hexatrix, you’ve got to help meee!” Princess Isadora whined, kicking her feet in the air. “It’s just not fair…”

Hexatrix Crumm, handmaiden and witch of the ninth order, watched her sworn charge flail about on her titanic bed. She had known the princess since they were both fourteen and it was fascinating what Isadora could be discontented with. The girl was in a giant pink bed, with silk sheets and a tasteful mural of naked angels on her ceiling. This chamber by itself was bigger than the house Hexatrix grew up in. 

“As your royal witch, I’m sworn to always help you.” Hexatrix chuckled softly and rolled her eyes. “But what do you really want me to do? Turn him into a frog?”

“YES!” 

“No…” Hexatrix groaned. “That would cause an international incident, your majesty.”  

For all the gold and perfume and silk that surrounded Isadora, there was always some price to be paid. The castle had larders full of every food imaginable, but the princess had to remain on a strict diet. Her parents had horses and ships, but Isadora was rarely permitted to leave the castle grounds. They had libraries stocked full of books, but all her tutors taught her was manners and etiquette. There was always a price to be paid… and this time the price was marriage. 

By royal decree, Princess Isadora of the kingdom of Istrius was to marry prince Kenneth of Borgonia on her twenty-first birthday. 

“It’s less than a year away!” Isadora wailed, her ink-black hair falling over eyes. “I don’t want to get married…”

“I’m sure it won’t be so bad?” Hexatrix tried, half-heartedly.

“He’s the worst. He spends his weekends fox-hunting and killing all sorts of other cute creatures. He says women shouldn’t be able to read or own property. And he thinks all magic should be outlawed!”

“What a perfect asshole.” Hexatrix sighed. “But I’m still not turning him into a frog.” 

“Come on. You have a plan, don’t you Hex?” Isadora said, resting pouty lips on dainty hands.

When Princess Isadora was unwell, it was Hexatrix’s job to fix it. Solutions for headaches, acne, broken bones and bad weather all fell to her. But she felt a commitment to look out for Isadora’s emotions as much as her body.

“I always have a plan.” The Witch said with a confident smile. “Let me go get my broom.”

+ + + + +

Deep in the Tanglethorn Woods, on the border of Istrius, stands a solitary tower. Very few people have ever seen the tower and almost nobody has been inside of it. The tower is sixty feet high and made of sheer stone. Most remarkably, it has no door at its base. It has no flags, no banners and no markings of any kind. The only way in (or out) of this tower is a solitary window on the top floor. This tower still stands and can be found (if you know where to look), but in those days it was ‘owned’ by the witch Hexatrix Crumm.  

At the stroke of midnight two figures on a broomstick slid across the moon, over the clouds and through the tower’s open window. 

“Damn, it’s dark in here.” Hex muttered, fumbling for her lantern.

There was the scratch of a match, and orange light bloomed throughout the circular room. The tower was a homey clutter, with big bookshelves and workbenches covered in crumpled papers. Posters of old country fairs were plastered on all the walls, and a massive blue banner hung from the high roof. On the far right corner was a fluffy bed with a checkerboard quilt, and on the left was a cozy kitchenette.

“Hex, wow…” Isadora breathed. “This place is amazing. I can’t believe you’ve never brought me here before.”

“It pays to keep a few secrets. My little home-away-from-home. Or castle, I suppose. And it’s all yours, for now.” Hex chuckled. 

“Is your plan to just kidnap me away?” Isadora said with a wink. 

“Of course not, your highness!” Hexatrix said quickly. “No, never. This is where you’ll hide out for a few weeks while we find you a new husb… find you your soulmate.”

A dreamy smile played over Isadora’s lips. “Go on, Hex.” 

“Well, it’s very simple. You go missing from the castle, and everyone assumes you’ve run away or been kidnapped. Classic princess stuff.”

“Classic.” 

“After not finding you for a week or so, your parents will start to freak out. They’ll offer gold and then jewels… and then the big prize: Your hand in marriage to whoever can rescue you. I’ll go looking for your perfect match, and they can be the one to bring you home safe and sound. You can make up some story about them slaying a troll or dragon or whatever and live happily ever after. Simple as that.”

“Simple as that.” Isadora repeated. “So! What do I get to do while all this intrigue is going on?”

Hex blinked and pinched the bridge of her nose. Princess Isadora had many fabulous features. Beautiful and alluring features, even, but the girl was made for dreams and not schemes. 

“You stay here.” Said the Witch slowly. 

“Aw, the whole time?” Isadora pouted. 

“Yes!” Hex sighed. “You need to stay out of sight. No one can see you or the whole plan goes up in flames. Trust me, you’ll be comfy.”

Hex lit another lantern and took Isadora on a quick tour of her tower. The top floor, the one they were on, was the loft. It had the bed, the kitchen, plenty of tables and most of the books in the building. 

“The fun books, anyway.” Hex waved a hand. “I have all my encyclopedias stored in the vault to keep them dry. Feel free to read whatever you like.” 

Isadora stooped down and took out a tattered paperback, with an image of two muscular orc women embracing on the cover. The title read, in gold ink, ‘Broken Tusks, Promises Kept’. Hexatrix tried not to blush.

“This looks well-loved.” Isadora said, softly. 

“Annd down this stairwell is the workshop. On with the tour!”

The workshop was even more cluttered, with odd bits of junk and art everywhere. Beakers, solutions, herbs, oil paints, easels and brushes were all over the place. 

“Feel free to paint if you like, but here’s the real deal.” 

Hex steered the Princes to a crystal ball on a pedestal. 

“If you get bored, you can watch demonic wrestling on here. Bill Z. Bub is facing the Abyss Twins this weekend in an Venetian death-match.”

“How…lovely?” Said Isadora, who knew nothing about demonic wrestling.

The floor below that, the terrarium, was the least cluttered so far. The rows of ferns and ficuses were neat and organized, manicured with a hand absent in the first two floors. Strange rocks in the ceiling gave off light that could resemble the sun or the moon. A magic watering can floated around the green space, seemingly ever full as it sprinkled the plants below it.

“Feel free to bring a chair down here if you want a bit more light.” Hex shrugged. “The floor below is my vault, but that's just a bunch of old boring books. So, that’s my tower. I trust you’ll be quite comfortable.”

“Hang on a minute.” Isadora crossed her arms. “What about food? Or if I have to… you know, pee or something?” 

“There’s a bathroom in the kitchen. And speaking of kitchen…”

Hexatrix brought them back up to the loft, and went rummaging in her wand cabinet. 

“Wand of marbles, no that’s not right… Wand of illusions, I’ll need that for later… ah, here we are!” 

Hex took out what looked like a cooking spoon made of cherrywood and offered it to Isadora. 

“Am I… supposed to eat that?” Isadora chuckled. 

“No, dummy. It’s a Wand of Feasting. Just think of a food and give it a wave.”

Hexatrix gave the wand a twist and, in a flurry of purple sparks, a single piece of buttered toast appeared in her hand.

“See?” Hex passed over the spoon, as she stuffed the toast in her mouth. “It works for drinks too. Alright, I have to get back before dawn or they’ll get suspicious. I’ll return the next day or so to check up on you.” 

“Alright. You be safe.” Isadora leaned in close and gave Hexatrix a peck on the cheek. “For luck.” 

Hexatrix struggled to contain the blush that crept up her neck, and could think of nothing more to say. She flew out the window like a whisper on the wind.

For the first time in seven years, Princess Isadora slept in. It was past noon when she finally kicked off the quilt and rose. There were no ladies-in-waiting to dress her, no pages badgering her about appointments. It was heaven on earth. 

She took a long bath and then relaxed amongst the plants. The watering can seemed to notice her, and bobbed around her like an airborne puppy. Isadora had a lovely time chatting with a garden tool that couldn’t talk back. When she returned to the loft for more books, the sun had almost set.

“Oh, I should eat something.” Isadora muttered, as her empty belly groaned. 

She waltzed over to the kitchen, where the Wand of Feasting had been left. She picked it up and held it at arm's length, as if it might explode at any moment. 

“Okay wand… garden salad with carrots?” Isadora said, asking for her usual dinner. 

In a flash of sparks a bowl filled with greens, tomatoes and carrots appeared on the table. Isadora sat down to dig in, but hesitated as she speared her first forkful. She looked at the wand. 

“This thing can make me… anything?” The Princess muttered, picking up the wand again. 

A litany of food began running through Isadora’s mind. It had been two years since she’d had roast chicken. Three years since she had mashed potatoes with butter. She couldn’t remember when she last had onion soup with cheese melted on top. The princess closed her eyes as memories of a chocolate cake she had at her tenth birthday washed into her memory.

It was moist and rich, with sugary cream and a custard filling. There were iced roses on top and a spun-sugar finch on top. The taste of it had her walking on air for the next three days…

Isadora opened her eyes. On the table was now a roast chicken, mashed potatoes with butter, onion soup, and an exact replica of her chocolate birthday cake. 

“Okay. Yeah. Well done wand." She said meekly. 

Isadora was trying to keep her breath even, the saliva in her mouth and her hunger in check. An insatiable ape of hunger, locked away for far too long, railed against the prison bars of temperance. For a moment, the discipline that had kept her willowy held. Then the smell hit her. The divine, warm smell of the feast. 

With all the dignity of a shipwrecked man, she threw herself on the food. Tears of pure joy flowed down her swollen cheeks. She shoved in as much as she could and never stopped chewing. When her fingers ran slick with butter or grease, she wiped them on her royal gown without a second thought. Bits of food soon covered the table around her, but Isadora paid them no heed. She was only focused on the intoxicating meal.

After thirty minutes of non-stop wolfing the princess leaned back and groaned. She was stuffed to the gills, a sensation that felt completely foreign to her. She had devoured half the chicken, massacred most of the potatoes, finished the soup and had two thick slices of the cake. The salad sat untouched. 

“Okay. That was…urp- that was great. Wand, magic away this delicious food.” 

Isadora waved the Wand of Feasting, but the feast remained. 

“Oh. Hmm.”

She tried again, more vigorously. The food stayed exactly where it was. 

“Um, okay.” Isadora thought furiously. “This will all go bad quickly and there’s no place to store it... I guess I could eat a little more.”

Absent-mindedly, she pulled to loosen the drawstring on her bodice. The relief in her gut was deeply welcome.

“Ohh, that’s better. Now back to that cake…”

The next hour was hazy at best for Isadora, as she made her way through the rest of the meal. She seemed to swim in and out of consciousness as more chicken and chocolate was crammed into her mouth. Uncertain of exactly how much she’d eaten, the princess did remember pushing herself away from the table, staggering to bed with her bulging gut in her hands, and collapsing beneath the sheets. Sleep took her instantly and held her under for hours.

When she awoke the next afternoon, the pain in her midsection had thankfully since subsided. Whether it was luck or a side-effect of the magic food, Isadora suffered no indigestion. She simply felt warm and full. It was a pleasant surprise, but when she looked at the kitchen table she was in for a shock. Every plate was empty, each dish devoured to completion. All that was left was the bones of the chicken and a wrinkly piece of lettuce. 

“Woof.” Isadora sighed, resting a hand on her still-swollen stomach. “I’m gonna have to be careful with you.”

She picked up the Wand of Feasting from where it had fallen on the floor, and felt her gut press up against her slender thigh. 

“Real careful. Okay.” She composed herself and gave it a quick flick. “Just an orange to start the day.”

The orange appeared. It looked very small and lonely. 

“And maybe an omelet.” She muttered. “With something healthy. Mushrooms. Peppers. Oh, and a little cheese. And a piece of toast. With butter. And another piece of toast with jam. And some blueberries. Ooh, and a blueberry scone would be nice. And if I’m having that I could try some blueberry pancakes. Oh and…”

It took Princess Isadora a whole two whole hours to finish breakfast, at which point she went right back to bed. The mattress groaned comfortingly upon her return.

[rindouheart]

— white nights

rindou haitani x y/n l/n

second night | mlist | wc: 1.6k

synopsis: days after the quarrel, you go on a date with rindou’s coworker, sanzu haruchiyo. anyway, also your best friend has found a way to have fun.

contents: slight angst, alcohol consumption, swear words, drug mentions.

“rindou, are you okay?” wonders koko, seeing one of his friends gloomy. “just tired, don’t worry” the younger haitani sighs. the platinum haired man knows that something is bothering him, but if rindou doesn’t want to talk about it, he shouldn’t be the one forcing him to open up.

rindou is staring at his phone, there’s y/n’s instagram profile on his screen. no new stories, new posts or messages. nothing. seems that his best friend has completely shut down their phone.

he wants to slap himself in the face. what the heck was he doing last night? he should have been able to control his emotions.

“yo!” sanzu greets his companions as he opens the large door. the air inside the room can be cut with a knife. “what’s happening here?” asks, looking around with his big eyes.

“rindou is tired and i have some business to do” sighs koko while tapping some numbers on his calculator. the pink haired man shrugs and sits down on one of red velvet armchairs.

“i have big news anyway, who wants to hear?” silence follows sanzu’s question. he huffs and sets his feet on one of the armrests.

“you know that kakucho will kill you if he finds that you put your dirty shoes on the furniture, right?” asks koko, watching him as he carelessly leaves dirt spots where he’s sitting.

“yeah, then what? drugs will kill me first, plus the effects are really nice once you’ve become used to them” bonten’s business genius inhales deeply and then goes back to his calculator.

rindou is biting his lower lip. he can’t let a person like him date you. what if sanzu tries to drug you? what if you get injured or anything else? he can’t permit it.

“yo” says the man who’s at the centre of his thoughts “you look tense–“

“no, i don’t want to try anything, thanks” rindou answers with what seems like one of those registered lines when you have no credit left for calling by phone.

“sad, but i wasn’t going to ask you that” replies the other one. in the meanwhile, koko grabs his things and goes in another room before being the spectator of an incoming disaster. “y/n is your friend, right?”

“yes, they are” rindou’s voice is low, which is usually not a good sign. he’s still thinking about how his best friend could have accepted a date with a person like sanzu.

“i don’t know where i should bring them for our dinner or whatever” he huffs, looking at his coworker and waiting for advice.

“y/n doesn’t like very crowded places, especially for first dates. otherwise, they like restaurants and fancy locations” says rindou, his eyes looking down. “once one of their dates brought them in a crowded night club as a first appointment, they found him drunk and kissing another girl. they hate clubs now” he almost smiles at the thought of you that night.

he remembers when you called him after midnight, in order to be picked up at a random club he had never heard before. he remembers how you spent that night with him: he let you sleep on his bed while he slept on the couch.

“haitani, are you still with us?” sanzu moves his hand in front of the man sitting near him. “mh? sorry, i’m kinda tired and sometimes i lose my focus”

“aw, that sucks” exhales the other.

“yeah” thinks rindou, “it sucks, especially the part where y/n chose you over me”. he hates admitting it, but he’s jealous, very jealous.

[the next day]

you find yourself fixing your outfit for the night in front of your wall mirror. rindou hasn’t even tried to contact you since your argument. you inhale deeply. sanzu will be there soon.

a notification suddenly brightens your phone’s screen. “i’m downstairs”, from sanzu.

when he sees your figure walking outside the house, his mouth takes a shape similar to a small “o”. he is amazed, and you are stunning. your hairstyle, your makeup, the outfit you chose for the dinner. everything is perfect on you.

“hi” you greet him while walking towards his car.

“you look good, like… really good” he says, a small blush on his face. you smile and take a seat inside his luxurious car.

the ride to the restaurant is pretty quiet, with you watching the city landscape and sanzu focusing on the road ahead.

“i’ve booked a table at a new place near the centre of tokyo. rindou told me you don’t like crowded places, so i got this idea, i hope it doesn’t sound too plain or dumb” he confesses, while looking around to park his car in a decent way and in order to don’t hit any vehicle.

[later on…]

you’ve been talking for the entire dinner, asking the usual questions when you meet someone new, such as “what are your hobbies?” or “do you prefer cats or dogs?”. you both haven’t picked up your phone for more than a couple minutes, sign that your date is going really well, not as the others you’ve been invited at recently.

“may i ask you something? i don’t know if you want to answer, but…” mumbles sanzu, looking up from the desserts list. “go on, i’m all ears” you say, thinking about how good a strawberry cheesecake would be to end this fantastic, as you want to call it, evening.

“have you and rindou ever dated?” he mutters, long lashes and big blue eyes looking directly in your direction. you almost freeze at the thought.

“no, we have always been just friends,” you answer, putting down the piece of lucid paper you’re handing “why are you asking me that?”.

“well, when i told the others i was going to have a date with you he got mad and he also has been nervous these days… maybe it’s my fault, but who cares then” sanzu laughs and brushes off the situation.

“do you hate each other?” you also smile in front of his reaction.

“nah, i wouldn’t say that we hate each other, our relationship is a bit weird, i like making fun of him and he always says i’m a bad company because i used to do drugs in the past” he answers before ordering two pieces of strawberry cheesecake as dessert.

at his words, you freeze. he is joking, right? he must be joking, a pretty guy like him can’t have done drugs in the past. but if he is serious? is this the reason why rindou told you to basically stay away from him?

“are you serious?” you whisper, trying not to drag all the customers’ attention on your table. now it’s sanzu’s turn to block and stare into the void, thinking about an answer that can be plausible.

“it was in the past” he inhales deeply “i’m clean now” he wants to slap himself in the face, but also knows that, if he had told you the truth, you would have left instantly.

the infamous white lies, the ones you tell to save yourself from something you don’t want to happen. and sanzu is trying to save himself and his date.

“have you ever liked rindou? i mean, in more than a friendly way” he is quick to change the topic of the discussion.

“… i don’t think so, i mean, we have known each other for such a long time, maybe i got some small crushes on him during the years without realising, but not at the moment” you say, biting your lower lip.

you remember the first time you met him in roppongi, the first time you met ran, the first time you went to the amusement park together, the first time you’ve been separated from him, the first time you cried because you didn’t know if he was going to be released, then the joy of meeting him again, that hug which felt better than the first one, the white nights you spent together, the kiss you shared together as a joke, then, he ended in jail again and you were the one who waited for him to come back.

you almost haven’t heard the notification coming from sanzu’s phone.

“it’s ran” you see him unlocking the screen and checking the messages. his eyes widen and he’s quick to put his phone away.

“what happened?” you ask.

“ran texted me, nothing important” he lies. his body language seems too panicked for the “nothing important part”.

“what did he say?” you ask again. you’re not going to let go that easily.

another message pops up on sanzu’s lockscreen. on the notification appears a picture.

“is that rindou?” you point to a man, which has purple and lilac hair. you could recognise him anywhere and anytime.

sanzu stays silent.

“please, answer me” you mutter. your hands are fiddling with the fabric of your clothes.

the pink haired man sitting in front of you unlocks his phone and slides it to you.

ran has sent a message saying “are you with y/n? rindou has just shouted out loud he won a bet against them and something like “fuck it!”, can you ask them?”

then, another one “he’s heavily drunk and he’s kissing a girl” followed by the pic.

and for the first time, you realise he has found someone who’s not you.

taglist: @xbabybajix @ilykii @lagrimasdeglitter @dailyakira @kbaji + ask if you want to be added (comment or inbox with your @)

notes: this chapter was supposed to be published a few days ago, but sadly one of my cats almost died due to an infection :( luckily he’s healing well at the moment! sorry for the delay <\3

rindouheart’s original fic — don’t copy or steal — 010722

[chibioomi]

￫ 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞 ! : sakusa x musician!reader

tags: romance, long distance relationships

summary: you and sakusa have been in a relationship since your second year of high school. now, a few years later, you both have relatively busy schedules; sakusa playing and practicing with the MSBY jackals, and you touring the world due to your successful music career. while both of you are travelling different parts of the world, what’s keeping your relationship alive is the phone calls made throughout the day.

ㅤㅤㅤ ───────────── .°୭̥ ❁ ˎˊ˗

three months, seventeen days, five hours, five . . . twenty . . . forty minutes. the time seemed to drag by a lot slower when you weren’t actively doing anything. the small things; the quick, warmhearted touches, the lingering, doting glances in crowded places, where things to miss about being in the same country as your boyfriend. many relationships would suffer after being physically apart for so long, but not you and sakusa kiyoomi’s. maybe it was due to the simple reality that when you both were together, there was always a small, comfortable distance between you two. even though sakusa loved you dearly, he just couldn’t get over his germaphobic tendencies. it was something you had come to an understanding with early on, and when people questioned why you weren’t bothered with it, you would plainly state that you two had your own means of showing affection.

you never expected them to understand, they didn’t feel the way sakusa did about germs. neither did you, but you acknowledged why he felt the way he did. that, and the fact that he was trying to be a little more open about it, made you comfortable with it all.

you had gone from standing at an arms distance to being close enough to hold pinkies, a method he preferred over holding hands, especially in public, in the means to not to lose you. when you two were in a small space together, he’d actually remove his mask, given that you were alone. occasionally, he would plant a chaste kiss to your cheek, or allow you to do the same to him, and on highly rare occasions, he’ll give you an actual kiss. any other time, you either both have masks on [ wearing a mask in public has just become a normal thing for you ], or just one of you will. he’s still not a big fan of cuddles, and will only do so if you’ve both taken a thorough shower and put on clothes fresh from the drier [ quick hugs are ideal, and when he’s feeling extra affectionate, they’ll last almost two minutes ]

and none if it bothered you. in fact, it was all of these little things that lead you to fall deeper into love with him. and you knew you would continue the fall, and there would be no end. there was a hidden rush to it all, deep down, hidden under the surface. it was something only the two of you felt. loving sakusa was refreshing. it gave you a new outlook to life, something you appreciated.

you knew you weren’t the only one that felt as if being in this relationship helped you find new aspects of yourself. sakusa felt the exact same. though it was a rather tedious process, you helped him see the world other than a never ending rotation of disease. he now held a deeper meaning within himself. he was just as appreciative of you as you were him.

being away from one another for so long didn’t affect your relationship. if anything, it made it stronger. it was evident to anyone around you both that you missed one another, but it wasn’t to where it would affect your performances.

when you weren’t practicing sets, on stage, doing meet and greats and interviews, and every other responsibility you held as an upcoming musician, you were watching his interviews and volleyball games. when he wasn’t playing, practicing and so forth, he would scroll through the different fan pages on his social media to see what you were up to [ he found it a little weird at first, why did people seem to know where you were at every moment ? ]

but when you both were free, and when time permitted, you made those late night / early morning face time calls that made everything much more bearable. they were both of your favorite parts of this temporary, long-distance relationship.

“how’d your show go?” sakusa asked one night, well, night for you. it was midnight by time you were able to call him, and it was almost seven in the morning for him. he had asked you to just go to sleep, that you two could talk later in the day, but you argued that by the time you’d be free again, he should be asleep. that conversation lasted a few minutes before you came out with the upper hand.

“i think i had one of those ‘i made it moments’, tonight. it was just crazy to see how many people were there, enjoying the music i made. to hear them singing along . . . for them to say that my music makes them happy . . .” you had trailed off at that point, at a complete loss for words to describe how you felt. directing your attention back to the screen, you saw your boyfriend’s proud face, and it almost brought you to tears. “and to think, you’re the one that actually pushed me to do all of this. i owe it all to you, you know.”

sakusa shook his head, his untamed curls falling onto his forehead, which brought a small smile to your lips. “no, y/n, i only asked you to do something about that talent you have. you’re the one that put in all the hard work, those long hours. this is all because of you, and i couldn’t be more proud.”

“i love you so very much, omi.” it took everything in you not to let the warm tears spill onto your cheeks. you weren’t a highly emotional person, but the constant support from the man you loved, the words of encouragement and praise were enough to pluck at your heartstrings.

“i love you, too, y/n. more than anything. but make sure you drink some tea, take a shower, then sleep now, okay? you look exhausted.”

so no, continuous tours you both went on weren’t painful. because you knew when you two were finally in person, you’d get yourself a hug and a quick, masked kiss. and until then, you had these phone calls to pull you through.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “In the Glass Tower.”

The continuation of Krill’s little story arc. I hope you enjoy it. :)

“And you let the creature come with you?” 

“He presented a logical argument that I felt I couldn’t refuse.”

“This is not his business.”

“It involves his species, so arguably it is.” “This is not for the sake of argument.”

“I think maybe you should watch yourself. Emotion seems to be clouding your judgement.”

….

….

“Psychologist, is this your opinion as well.”

“He is a…. Fascinating specimen, both of them. They play off each other like the two points in a binary star system the one influencing the other but neither taking precedence.” 

“I did not ask for poetic rhetoric, psychologist, I asked for your assessment.”

“You might have to be more specific, for that was my assessment.”

“Is he or is he not fit to live.”

“I think you will find that decision isn’t as easily made as you think it is. I spoke with the human at great length on the subject, and it….. He provided me with a very interesting take on the changes we have seen with the doctor.”

“We don’t care about the the observations of a human.”

“Well you should because the observation was astute and thought provoking. I think we, as Vrul, tend to be blinded by our supposed superiority and forget that other species have the ability to think logically the humans being the most flexible-minded in the known universe. Will I be permitted to continue.”

…

“Go on then, let’s hear it.”

“He is under the assumption that every change that we have seen in the doctor is an adaptive behavior to surviving with humans.”

“And how is aggression supposed to be adaptive?”

“You see, that was the interesting part. Humans communicate a measure of their hierarchical structure though aggression. Now if an authority figure is to give you a position in the hierarchy you may not have to be aggressive, but for the doctor, he was placed in a position of power by a human that sometimes refuses to listen. By appearing both concerned and aggressive at the same time he forces the other humans to listen to him therefore placing himself in a very high position within the social hierarchy. Many of the tiny movements that he makes is an adaptive way to show HUMANS that he is worthy of the position he holds. We see it as aggressive,  they see it as confidence, or in certain cases anger and annoyance. Often times, humans do not understand that something is important unless it has a level of emotion attached to it. If i were to calmly walk into a room and tell the humans that there is a fire and they need to get out, they would be much less likely to respond promptly than if I ran in screaming about it. On the same line, the doctor must behave in an aggressive and angry manner in order to convince the others that his opinions are important and require a certain measure of….. Focus from his companions.

“That is a very convoluted and strange way to look at things.”

“But it is the functioning of a human ship. The Doctor has not lost his ability to be Vrul, but he has proven his adaptive nature.”

“He has proven, that his interest lies outside the furtherment of our species, and therefore is no longer of use.” 

“I disagree.”

“We will see what the doctor has to say for himself.

***

It felt like a lifetime since Dr Krill had seen the horizons of his own planet, a ruddy sort of orange on the surface, the air fed by carbon producing lifeforms. The city was as he remembered it, an unchanging slab of white built in the most uniform of circles. with uniform buildings rising only to the height of three or four stories crossed between with long lines of wire. High walls encircled the entire perimeter isolating the interior from the outside world. Down in the city, the walls were so high that you had to crane your neck back simply to see the top. The council said it reduced the sunlight, but it was an acceptable measure in order to keep out the rest of the world.

Krill thought it was kind of ironic, almost funny. They had built a wall to keep out the world, but it was never high enough to keep out what had really come, it hasn't been high enough to keep out the cosmos, or the wars, or different ideologies that had fallen in from the galaxy.

In their fear  they had tried to wall themselves off but ended up opening themselves up to the universe with open arms practically begging others to come in and cause them danger.

There were only thirteen cities on this planet, all of them ranged along the equator where the Vrul could best live. There had been thirteen for as long as anyone could remember, and in those thirteen cities there was just enough genetic diversity to keep a bottleneck event from occurring and annihilating the genetic diversity in the population.

In their fear they made the way they lived even more dangers, if there was more of them, more diversity more of them in the galaxy, than they would never have to worry about dying off.. By keeping their species isolated on this planet, they were threatening their entire species with mass extinction from a planet wide catastrophe. 

He wondered if anyone else had thought of that.

He had never seen outside the city accept from above of course. He had seen hundreds of worlds, walked on earth with impunity, braved blizzards and asteroid fields, but he had still never seen his own planet. It was some kind of cruel twisted humor. He wasn’t entirely sure what species were even native here, other than the screllings that flew just beyond the wall perimeter repelled by force fields so as not to cause trouble.

Of course the way he described the city probably did not convey just how large it was. One one hundredth of the massive white circle was taken up by the landing field, large enough to hold Commander Vir’s ship a hundred times over than then some. They landed there and were escorted onto the platform.

He was surrounded almost completely by a wall of four Delta’s and their beta handlers. 

Walking down from the ship and onto the white stone, surrounded on all sides by watching eyes, he almost didn’t notice the distinct thud thud thud, of human feet on the metal behind him. He turned his head sharply making the deltas shy away instinctively and the betas to glare at him with some trepidation.

He shouldn’t have been surprised when The Commander smiled at him from a few rows back. If Krill had thought a contingent of four deltas was flattering on his person, the human had amassed an entire squad of them. Surrounded on all sides very nervous eyes, and hopefully, steady trigger fingers.

“How in the hell did you manage to get here.” He said over the heads of his captors, incredulous.

The human shrugged at him, “Oh you know, used my ever present charm to talk my way onto the ship like a civilized person.” 

“Well that’s an oxymoron if I ever heard one.” 

He was dragged away before he could say anything else. Tough his presence hadn’t caught the eye of the other Vrul, the presence of a human sure had. It had been a long time since a human last set foot in the city. The last person that had come was the Commander himself, when he was still an unknown player.

He had saved a child from drowning.

Once upon a time the humans had stirred and entire city of the least curious species into curiosity, but years and years of rumors, stories, and intergalactic propaganda had fanned the fire of their fears, and made something which was once so curious into something that was no more than a vicious rumors and a midnight creature.

They caught many expressions of wary apprehensions as they walked past escorted down the way and past the hatching factories, and the deltas going about their business urged on by their beta masters. Vapid and tireless kappas lined the streets with their menial tasks going on as they always had with precision and perfection only to be stopped by the glimpse of the human.

They walked on making their way past lines and lines of residence halls, over one small sector of the city before the thoroughfare opened up before them to reveal a wide white building with a spiraling tower that reached towards the sky. It was honestly the only ostentatious thing in the entier city, and they made the excuse that it was only logical to make the center of government the most obvious thing in the city. It was a symbol of power and control to those down below, and should be looed up at on all occasions to remind everyone what they were working so hard to achieve.

Krill bet you could see over the wall from the very top, where the glass windows allowed in great streams of light to bathe the council in glorious nutrition from their sun.

While the workers down below fought for the light at various times of day.

They were escorted onto the first floor of the tower, and that is where the human was led away escorted by his platoon looking over his shoulder at krill who was led towards a tall shaft at the center of the room. Those around him inflated their hydrogen sacks and he did the same, and together, with the help of a light towing cable, they were dragged up many floors to the tower, and into a brightly lit antechamber with big glass windows on one half of the circular room.

He had been right before, you could see over the walls and out onto the vast expanse of orange plant file that covered everything from horizon to horizon. He saw a flock of something out there, but couldn't have said what it was. He thought he even saw the silhouette of something very tall and very slender pass over the horizon, but if vanished before he could get a better look.

“The council will see you now.” A beta assistant said, ushering him through the doors and into the waiting room.

It was large and circular raised over the antechamber by a few feet to give the room a 360 degree view of the city and the surrounding landscape. From here the workers and the Vrul below were nothing more than earth ants scuttling about their dirt pile.

Around the room, the council floated in their places at the perfect distance from each other. They came in most of the expected colors for a Vrul, brown almost black, and grey both light and dark, one of them was so light it might have been mistaken for white if seen in a dark room, with nothing as comparison. 

All of them were alphas, that was easy to tell, the best in stock of their species, perfectly formed, extremely keen, and unerringly arrogant. He had figured that last one out by himself, mostly with some self introspection and a couple of loud-mouth humans pointing it out. It was kind of the hallmark of being an alpha, thinking that you are better than anything else and knowing that it was probably true.

Of course, the real issue came when you were thrown into a world where intelligence and personality wasn’t so straight forward. A human that you, at first, might have thought was an idiot, could come back a second later and best you in a game of wit without so much as raising a finger, and going around to announce how great you were, was suddenly less appealing of an option. 

They stared at him with silent impunity.

There were a few more there as well, one he recognized as the psychologist who had looked over his case, as well as the ship’s captain and a few other experts. He didn’t now them, judging by the look of them many were young. The average Vrul didn’t make it very long before the council deemed their productive output to be lacking.

If this was earth, that fact might just warrant a protest.

“Doctor Krill, Alpha of the undefined levels, step forward to face the council.” he did as requested, though ever fiber in his body had to resist the urge to snark at them.

“We have been monitoring your behavior for a while now, and we are displeased to say that we have not liked what we have seen.”

Krill remained rather silent.

“We had hoped when you were born, that you might prove to be of more use to the populace than you ended up being. You were very promising. Never had we seen a Vr With such advanced aptitude scores as you. You broke our testing systems and played about them like they were no more than simple riddles. Ou were originally intended for government? Do you remember that?”

‘My memory of those days is ... fuzzy at best.”

“A vrul always has their path chosen for them . We do not get to decide what we become, because it is not in our best judgement to make that decision when we cannot see the whole picture. Even as a grub you were particularly headstrong and difficult. The day that you were to begin your training with the political assemblage, you vanished, only to find you hours later wide and and fawning at the medical academy. By the tie it happened the damage had been done, one of our best minds lost to a scientific iled instead of the political one that kept us all safe.

Krill remained very silent, he had not heard this story before.

He hardly remembered any of this.

“”There were some who suggested terminating you on the spot from deviating against your original course, but with your potential we could not let that stand…. Another student was removed from your place, so that we could maintain the controlled population plan that we had original set out to keep.” Krill’s insides went cold. Once upon a time a revelation like that would not have surprised him, but after living with the humans for so long, soaking up their ideals, it was different to think any other way. Someone had been terminated for a rash decision he had made so long ago.

He had always fancied himself to be a level-headed rational being, but it seemed that that was not the case. He had just been comparing himself to humans.

“We watched you flourish in the medical career, and it seemed, for a time, that you would fulfill a purpose. You brought new techniques to the table, and more lives were saved, but then the medical field proved not to be enough for you. All of a sudden we are getting questions challenging the way things have been done for thousands of years. Why don't we try this, why don’t we try that. Why does it matter how many resources we use. Then you become the first Vrul to insist they are transferred off-world. Even then! We could stand it, despite your illegal forrays into journal publishing and development of new techniques.”

Outside the sun had curved down over the far side of the room throwing light across the floor.

“And then the humans came along, and what do you do, you up and quit your position without any prior warning, without speaking to the council, and you sign off with a human ship as a human doctor. The last hundred cycles you have spent with them making absolutely no contribution to our society. In act you have proven to be a great drain on the council, and your personal behavior has  caused a stir among the general populace. Maybe this all would have gone away had you not made yourself so public, but instead you go galavanting around with the one creature in the entire galaxy that has everyone’s eyes trained on him.”

Krill watched the floor as their shadows crept towards him 

“Your psychological tests have shown an extreme deviation from normality, and your behavior is so excessively individualistic that you have proven no interest for the furtherment of your species….. What have you to say to yourself.”

“You’re wrong.”

“What did you say.”

“I said you’re wrong.”

“And what proof do you have of this.”

Kril Moved to open his mouth and retort, but a shocked gasp from around the room cut him off.

“He has me.

[axolotl-druk]

Ozai Angels after Zuko banishement

 Azula reunited and said the news to them even before the story was spread, before Zuko was exhiled, and tried to explain it as a good thing. Zuko is no longer in line to the throne, and you should support that decision as you are MY friends, he wasn't even part of our group, and we only played with him sometimes because we found pathetic and sad that he no longer had mother’s company to avoid us. 

Nither Ty Lee or Mai contradicted her. Just more side glances and some comments about how is sad and maybe if they had more time he could have been part of their group. The truth is, that they already considered themselves as a quartet not a trio. Most of their games needed 4 players anyway. Even Azula called them “the fire nation four” when she was in good mood, but Azula also returned to calling them “the fire nation trio and Zuko” when she had been near Ozai or when they didnt agree with her rules. And the fire nation trio was supposed to never be in disagreement. 

Ty Lee and Mai don't ask if they can say theirs goodbyes, but still invent games to play near the infirmary the first days and then near the docks when the time to set sail is near. Maybe they are trying to include him in the group until the longer they can or maybe they hope to see catch a glimpse of him to remember. Azula muses about how long is going to be before he goes away.  None of them say the words forever, but the three understand that that is the goal. 

She makes little comments about the nasty cover of bandages in his face and how she wants to see the marks of her fathers wisdom, she gives them news every day , even when nobody is permitted to visit him. She makes them prepare jokes for when they meet him before his departure. Neither Ty Lee or Mai will see him before Ba Sing Se. Zuko is put on a ship in midnight and when Azula wakes up and goes to her morning ritual to spy on her brother, but he is no longer in the nation, neither is her uncle apparently and Ozai remembers her that is not honorable to worry about weak people.  

Probably not long after that, Mai’s family relocated or something as they didn't want her daughter to be in danger or to avoid getting on the wrong side of the princess and therefore fire lord. And also his father probably ruled another town to make a better cv before Omashu, so she was no longer part of the trio in presence. I do think she wrotte both Azula and Ty Lee and even maybe saw Azula in those 3 years, as the fire lord in line has to make a lot of trips to know her country, and they coincided some times. Mai can keep her emotions in check during short visits, and having Azula in town gives her freedom enough to go around without her parents disproving. And she writes to Ty Lee. If she misses anything from the capital is her, but then Ty Lee informs her that she is travelling and Mai no longer aches for “home”

Azula says it will be the most powerful duo then. For Ty Lee’s family, moving would have been more difficult as they are more people (I picture her not only living with her sisters but also extended family, like grandparents) after Zuko’s Agni Kai, Ty Lee began to understand actually what the royal family represented and all the little comments from Mai about hating politics, her sad expression but lack of surprised in Zuko treatment, and her almost relieved expression after she announced she was moving and Azula didn't contradict her (Mai and Azula used to contradict each other more than Ty Lee was comfortable) started to make more sense. Her family was able to place her in fire nation royal academy due to economic possibilities, but they were more about money making than politic interests. 

So running to the circus seems like her only option. Yeah, she doesn't like being compared to her sisters, but she is also now afraid of her friend and everything royal related. She doesn't tell Azula before (even when they had sworn to tell each other everything) but when she does is by a letter just stating how happy Azula will be to have a travelling friends house to stay if she wants and what a good opportunity is that for Azula if she wants to hear peasants gossip. Her family doesn't try to call her back, she doesn't know if its because they have more spares or because they were also afraid. 

Mai and Ty Lee write to each other a lot. They never discuss Zuko though, or Azula none of them are ready to be disloyal by saying out loud that they are sad. And Mai pretends “it was my calling” is enough explanation for Ty Lee to leave everything she knew and be alone for the first time. Or that Mai´s absence of letters when Azula is visiting her is because she is occupied and not because Azula has the rule custom of no secrets allowed between friends. 

But their letters are constant telling each other about their life, enough to still consider each other as their best friend when they met again. 

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

12. The Apex is Falling

This is the longest chapter of this story at a whopping  6819 words. I hated making a chapter that long for this fic in this fandom, but like... I just couldn’t break it anywhere that I thought about. So, sorry about that bit, folks. I don’t know if anything here is necessarily triggering, mostly just sort of sad and troubling.

Previous

The Monroes did not appreciate the amount of retroactive damage control that they had to do behind Grace’s former behavior, however. As it was, they did spin the story in order to paint Grace as a girl who felt threatened and needed to defend herself. They were mostly disappointed that she lied to them and that her lies weren’t buried. If she was going to lie, she could have at least made sure that it never saw the light of day! Her mother wasn’t currently speaking to her and her father was being as extreme in his rules as ever before. She had embarrassed them. She embarrassed them at the Corn Dog Express, and CERTAINLY when the assault allegations arose. She didn’t see the need to point out that the first was actually Simon, not her, because her mother had been very vocal about how stupid it was to leave her wallet behind, “As though Simon ever has money!”

It wasn’t worth explaining to her that Simon usually carried her small items in his pockets when they were together and she had presumed that he had her wallet. It wasn’t worth speaking at all, because her mother was so infuriated with her that after she completed her obligatory bitching about things, she began her unscheduled silent treatment. Nothing that Grace would say would matter until Mrs. Monroe deemed her worthy of regaining her attention. 10 year old grace would have fallen apart. Soon to be 16 year old Grace just took her verbal berating with a grain of salt and the mental note that Simon was on her shitlist.  

Their birthdays weren’t too far from each other’s. Simon’s fell towards the end of August and hers was about a month later, so they generally combined birthday efforts, and this year, they were turning 16. That meant a lot of big things for Simon. He was going to be liberated from his parent’s guardianship, he had his permit and only needed to take a test for his license, he would be old enough to work a real job, and all of those combined things meant that he would legally be an adult. This is extremely important to him. 

Children had no power. They couldn’t make money. They couldn’t legally drive. They couldn’t find a home and live by their own rules. It was an excruciating reality, and no matter how much he tried to prove his worth in the real world, as long as he had no legality to his adulthood, people didn’t take him as seriously as they should have. He didn’t like that. This was the first birthday that he was looking forward to since his childhood. 

Grace wasn’t as stoked about hers. She was so disinterested that she wanted them to have their birthday party closer to his birthday, instead. Her mother absolutely shot that idea down. She was going to have a very big and deliberate Sweet 16 party and was going to invite every single famous person that she now knew, along with the most upstanding students at the academy, and the children of politicians and entrepreneurs that the Monroes respected and valued. Simon didn’t mind waiting a month for a party like that, at all. Plus, it would give him time to maybe gather up the nerve to ask her out, officially. Her birthday was technically September 23 at 6:45 am, but the party was on Saturday the 22, and would still be happening at Midnight, which would be considered her birth date. So, he wanted to ask her then. He wanted to get her a gift. Not to add to her hope chest like all of her tribute trinkets, but something that would show that she was his. He had ideas for years. A lot of them, very expensive, ergo impossible. Some of them, complicated, ergo improbable. He wanted to do something that he had the power or skill to do, that was also a worthy offering to her of himself and his emotions, and still have it be something that she would also enjoy.

He was fortunate that as her long term right hand, he had the power of the Apex on his side. The rich kids at school who lived for her were more than willing to contribute to his cause and her girl sect went above and beyond being helpful in arranging things and assisting in his planning process. The main mission was complete secrecy. He didn’t want anyone involved to speak with anyone else about their role or donation. He wanted it to be a surprise to her and everyone else. He wanted to woo her in the most memorable way and to create something so magnificent that there wouldn’t be a single doubt in her mind that here was a man who wanted her more than anything. He smiled to himself thinking about his elaborate gesture.

“What are you smiling about?” She asked, looking up from her book. He blushed, thinking about her wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him on the lips, then looking at him with love in her eyes, ready to be everything to him. “Simon, really. What the heck are you thinking about right now?”

“Being happy,” he said. She narrowed her eyes and stared at him suspiciously. “What are you thinking?”

“That I have never heard my Simon speak about being happy in the almost 6 years that I’ve known him, so you’re obviously one of his little figures, but life size and able to communicate… and I don’t doubt that Simon has the smarts to create such a thing, but the funding… I’d be confused on where he got the funding.” He let out a little chuckle and leaned back in his seat. He was working on his assignment again, but he was still smiling to himself. Weird.

That wasn’t the only weird thing that he did lately. He began to keep himself up more. It wasn’t that he didn’t take care of himself, but he was more of a functional, hygienic than the extra care that he was now taking into stuff like his eyebrows and fingernails. He used to just either let them grow out of sheer apathy, clip them out of annoyance that he’d let them get too long, or chipped them in his day to day and bit off the crooked parts when he did. Now, he seemed like he was giving himself manicures. His nails looked healthy and cared for. His cuticles seemed nourished and smooth. And he smelled amazing now. Like, not like he picked up whatever antiperspirant was cheapest when he passed the aisle, but like he was making attempts to be fresh and clean and… attractive! “OH MY GOD, YOU’VE got a crush on somebody!” she said.

She saw a shimmer in his gray eyes and she laughed and looked around. “Who is it? I know that she’s Apex. You’d never look twice at a null. BUT… I have no idea what your type is. I remember whenever you would get all clammy whenever that redhead girl came around.”

“What? No I didn't. I would always get nauseated, because she always had on so much perfume that it unsettled my stomach and made me feel like I’d break out in hives.”

“So… not her, then.” She studied around the campus. “I’m gonna find out who she is.”

“What will you say to her?” He asked, and rested his tongue on his upper canines as he smiled at her.

“Hi, I’m Grace. I’m sure you know me as one half of Grace and Simon, also known as The Apex. I’m here to tell you that it’s your lucky day, because Simon himself has his eyes set on you. I strongly recommend that you give him a chance. I can’t make you, but it would really be in your best interest, because he’s an amazing guy… And if you hurt him, I’ll fucking kill you. Hahaha… Just Kidding! Unless you hurt him, and then I’m not.” 

He started laughing and something settled in his eyes as he looked at her. She stopped smiling, slowly, and collected her things, “I should get to dance so that I'll have enough time to tie these locs up. Are you… gonna tell her, ever? Or, is it just something that you like having in your mind for nobody else to taint?”

“Will you stop looking for her if I answer this?”

“Scouts honor.”

“You’re not a scout.”

“Half of me is,” she said and gestured towards him. He laughed again. This was the cheeriest that Simon had been.

“Okay, well… I’m definitely going to eventually speak to her about it.” His smile was very warm and he looked… genuinely happy. Like, she couldn’t remember ever seeing him so much so, not even when they were doing great fun things together. It was like he had some sort of peace that he found. She HOPED that she wasn’t going to ruin that for him.

“Well… What if… she’s not interested in you?” She asked, trying not to look right at him as she asked.

“Wouldn’t it be in her best interest to give me a chance, since I’m such an amazing guy?” He asked back, still smiling, still content.

“I did say that.” She nodded her head. “And I did mean it, but what if… she doesn’t, you know, think of you in THAT way?” Now, his smile faltered and he thought for a while. She wondered if he was registering what she was trying to go around saying.

“Why wouldn’t she?” he asked, concerned. She moved her legs nervously, dancing around and he stood up, grabbing his things to walk with her. “What’s wrong with me?” He asked.

She shook her head, “Nothing. But, what if… well… what if she’s like me?” He looked confused. “Like… What if she never thinks about stuff like that? What if she once kissed the person that she loved more than anything and it only registered to her as something soft and wonderful… but nothing like the way that people describe kisses are supposed to be? What if she thinks that you’re the best thing on earth, but… she just doesn’t feel certain things? Would you still want her, if she can’t want you in the same way?”

“Are you… coming out as something, Grace?”

“I guess so. I’m just… I guess with you moving on to other relationships, I’m wondering where I stand.”

“There will never be anyone that comes before you…”

“That’s a bad start, if you like somebody else, Simon. But, that’s not what I meant. I mean, I know that you have certain feelings. I’ve seen it. I don’t have those. Someday, when our friendship isn’t enough to fulfill your connection with someone, I guess, I’m wondering if you think that somebody like you would be able to connect with somebody like me… when I can’t reciprocate everything.”

“Are you… Like… Asexual?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve never had to think about it before. The only guy that I’ve ever been close to has always been my best friend. I’m just warning you. Fake relationship that we’re having in front of my dad aside, you should ask yourself if you would still want this girl if she was… like me.” 

“I would… I do,” he said nodding his head.

“You didn’t even think about it.”

“I don’t have to think about it. I’d want you, no matter what.”

She playfully elbowed him, “You mean “her.” 

He caught her elbow and her attention when he did so. “Could you? Being… the way you are? Do you want to have somebody who wants you?”

“I don’t want to be alone, and I have feelings, if that’s what you're asking. Just… not the ones that people our age tend to seek out. I could absolutely fall in love with a wonderful person and want to spend all of my time with them and be as fulfilled as somebody can be… But, I already have that. I guess it just now occurred to me that getting older maybe means losing that, because you’ll eventually want and need more, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to deliver what needs you might have. Or the next person. Or the next...” Her eyes were a little damp. 

Simon heard what she said, and it even made sense to him on some level. However, looking at her, with the school approved scarf tying her locs up and forward, her face all natural and flawless, save the tears trying to form in her eyes, and her long, perfect legs bouncing nervously just thinking about losing him… What she was saying just didn’t really matter to him. It couldn’t matter. What she was saying meant that he might have to move on from his soul mate. He didn’t WANT to hear that part. He heard the part that did matter to him.

I could absolutely fall in love with a wonderful person and want to spend all of my time with them and be as fulfilled as somebody can be.. I already have that.

He smiled and wrapped an arm around her. She sank into his side, as usual and they kept walking.

.

The number 16 was lit up in the sky with fireworks. It was set to be there all night. If it began to fade, the paid pyrotechnician would release another. The attire was “Heavenly Extravaganza,” and they were calling it her “Celestial Sixteen,” instead of “sweet.” All of the hired help were dressed in white, silver, and gold gaudy Victorian styled costume, and Mrs. Monroe literally had a set built in their ballroom, to have a tower upon which she and Mr. Monroe could sit on “heavenly thrones.” Her Queen of Heaven outfit was much like something you might see in a very high budget film about a royal queen, and her husband’s suit matched. The Monroes and Simon were dressed in gold, with jewelry and sparkles.

Grace and Simon had both been taken to a styling center. Their outfits, hair, body, and things that Simon wouldn’t have even thought about were all surrendered to Mrs. Monroe’s team of professionals to have them be flawless for their entry. Simon was listed as Grace’s escort, but her mother had worked very hard to make sure that they had the matching attire she had for this vision of hers, and that there was no possibility that they forgot to do anything, if left to get themselves ready. Grace was more used to this than Simon was (even for the school dances that he always attended with Grace, he was styled, but generally took care of himself besides that). He didn’t usually have to do a spa day and detox, and sophisticated beauty treatments. He liked it though. 

Simon felt like a king. Grace felt like a doll.

She hated these appointments. Sure, she felt wonderful afterwards, but that was typically short lived once she had to get prepared by the team. She was pressed into a dress and standing for the time it took to steam it to be certain that there were no wrinkles, then getting placed into the vehicle - tonight a white limousine covered in bling crystals, and driven to the estate, where all of her Apex fans would be clustered outside, but barricaded (Simon convinced her mother to sell tickets to stand outside of the property and watch Grace come down the red carpet).

The sun had not yet set and Grace could see countless faces that had no real characteristics, except for lipstick prints on their faces that they had their friends kiss on or drew on themselves or something, in varying degrees of red (none of which were Apex Red), and inexpensive formal attire. She was much better at remembering attire than faces, and she didn’t know any of these fans, so it was lipstick marks and public school prom gowns that she and Simon walked down, towards the party, where Apex members that Simon hand selected were allowed to stand on the sides and receive them without barricades (guards were nearby). 

Simon felt like royalty. Grace felt like a spectacle.

Simon had been to Monroe events before. This topped everything! Mrs. Monroe had allowed him to collaborate with stylists on his attire, and they customized things based upon some of his wishes and on the design of Grace’s gown. He was allowed to be behind the scenes and work with planners for various details and things. 

Grace hadn’t been the least bit interested. She never was and quite frankly was a little annoyed that Simon was so into it, but she didn’t press too hard, since she knew he liked setting up scenes for his figures and stuff and guessed that this was all similar for him. She ragged on him about it a little bit, but got bored with it, since he paid her very little attention.

After that, she spent the party planning time writing music and working on songs. Mrs. Monroe wanted her to learn a dance for the party, but she shrugged her shoulders and said, “Simon and I can just do the waltz we did freshman year.” Simon looked at her like she was out of her mind.

“I don’t remember that dance!” he said, laughing uneasy.

“I didn’t say Simon and you, I said you need to learn a dance,” Mrs. Monroe told her. Grace had her tongue stuck out, thinking as she wrote down notes on sheet paper and hummed, with her mother and Simon’s voices barely registering to her. “Grace!” She snapped her head up and the woman shook her own head and said, “Simon, handle her,” before walking off, heels clacking on the floor. 

Grace laughed and imitated in her exaggerated British accent that she used to mock her mother, “Simon, handle her.” But, Simon didn’t laugh along or join in. Instead, he clasped his hands together and bit his lip. “Oh, what? Don’t tell me that you’re about to start sticking up for my mom, too?”

“Noooo… But, the party is very important. Your dad worked really hard to fix the incidents surrounding your name…”

“Which were brought on by your explosion in the mall…” She reminded him. He bypassed the reminder.

“And now, we have to focus on the leader of the Apex being worshiped, and your reputation being restored. You said that your image is important to you. Your mom is literally bringing your image into the heavens. Have you SEEN the Black Madonna piece she had made from her delivery photo?”

“That wasn’t a delivery photo. I was days old when they did that photo shoot. A team made her look like a beautiful glowing new mother. There ARE no delivery photos, because she, and I quote, “Actually somehow looked ugly while ruining her body with my arrival and didn’t want anyone in the world, not even me to ever see her less than stunning.” She destroyed photos from the actual birth.”

“Okay… But, did you see the artwork?”

“I see that you seem to be trusting the adults. We don’t trust adults. We don’t listen to our parents.”

“You listen to your parents all the time!”

“I mean, yeah, when I have to, but like… YOU don’t have to!”

He sighed and sat down next to her. “You’re about to be an adult, Grace.”

“Hell no, I’m not. I’m about to be 16, and instead of doing some cool shit with my best friend, I’m gonna be hosting a knock off Met Gala with literally a ballroom FULL of strangers. I don’t know any of the people on the guest list, and I certainly don’t know people who were exploited by you and my mom just to see me get out of a shiny ass limo and walk.” She tossed her music book aside and touched his ponytail, “Wouldn’t you rather we went through the motions, then got out of the limo, gave the kids on the sidelines their little tickets’ worth, then I just kick off my shoes and we take off running to go camping in the woods and play Chubby Bunny?”

He scoffed and threw his head back. “So, whenever I try to defend your honor, we’re not kids anymore, but whenever I try to help fix your image that you blame me for messing up, then you want to be 12 again?”

“No, when you react violently to a simple mistake, that’s childish to me, but it's perfectly fine to say a big screw you to these societal pressures and have fun with my best friend, for my birthday!”

“How do you know this won’t be fun, Grace? Several people, including me, have worked hard to make this a memorable night for you… And you don’t even seem to care.” He got up and grabbed his backpack. She felt horrible. Maybe she was a childish brat, after all. 

“Simon…” 

“I have college exams coming up,” he said, softly. That was his version of a goodnight.

“Simon, I’m sorry. You’ve been working really hard to make up for the corn dog thing. It isn’t your fault that my parents are still punishing me. Not directly, anyway. I should have noticed that you were putting in all of this planning work for me, for us. I just… You don’t have to do it. I’m happiest the days that we just get to spend time together. I feel like we never get to anymore. Like the old days, when it was just you and me. I guess for me, getting older means losing everything that I consider precious and the closer my birthday gets, and the more adult you act, I just… I don’t know. It’s a lot.” She hugged herself. “But, you have a point. This will help my image and I should be grateful that everyone is working so hard. Especially you.” She kissed him on the cheek and he turned an instant bright shade of red, overmatched only by the Apex Red print she left there. He took a deep breath and gave her an affirming nod. 

So, she sucked it up and decided to be here tonight and gave it her all.

There was dancing, mingling, her mother announcing things over a speaker system, from a hidden mic attached to her person, and a presentation of gifts - something that Grace just knew Simon was responsible for. It was like whenever kids gave tribute to her at school and he’d tell them, “All right, you know the drill, line up and present tribute as your dues to be able to call yourselves members of the Apex.” 

But, tonight, there were Apex members with Simon’s kiss… She recognized his lip prints, as she noted tonight… lined up, very military in their movements, holding gifts in one hand and their fists into the air with the other. Grace smiled, in confusion, glanced at Simon, who was seated on the other side of the tête-à-tête with her. He was looking at the display. Simon felt like the world was about to become his. Grace was frightened that hers was about to fall apart…

Because with every presentation, every declaration that each kid seemed to be making on Simon’s behalf, traveling their memories of friendship with gifts that were brought as symbols of sentimental moments that she and Simon shared… she realized that this wasn’t just some tribute from Simon for her birthday. This was a very bold declaration!

Every gift was beautiful and brought up some of her fondest memories of them, and when Simon knelt in front of her and presented her with the final and most important gift - a charm bracelet, with charms of each of those gifts in his presentation, with an inscription “The Apex is Forever,” and in front of ALL THESE PEOPLE, friends, family, strangers, fans, celebrities, hired help, and whatever phones and cameras were present, he said, “The only thing that makes sense is that we’re together. Will you accept this as a token from my heart and take me as your man?”

What did that even MEAN? Was this for her father’s benefit? Shouldn’t he have discussed something so extreme with her? And what was she supposed to do with all of these eyes on her? With his eyes on her? 

“Gray Eyes…” She was sweating and about to cry and breathing hard… “You’ve always been my man, Man...” she said. There were cheers from just about everyone, except her parents. Her mother threw her father a displeased look, but the man just looked right back at her with a note of satisfaction. Her mother got up from her throne and went down the winding staircase of the tower to leave. Her father stood and thanked everyone for coming out to Grace and Simon’s 16th birthday party. 

Grace went to go find her mother as Apex members got out of her way, random strangers congratulated her on her new relationship, and friends crowded Simon to celebrate that they pulled it off. Simon barely noticed her leave, but when she paused in the doorway and looked at him, they made eye contact. He looked slightly confused, but when she turned to continue her exit, he continued talking to Apex.

“Mom?” Grace called, knocking on the boudoir door as she entered. The woman had already gotten out of the dress, but the elaborate hive of a hairdo, graced with celestial embellishments would take longer. Grace was shocked that the dress didn’t take longer, but she realized when she picked it up to avoid trying to cross over it in her own, that Mrs. Monroe had ripped it off. “Are you okay?”

“He isn’t right for you,” Her mother said, staring at the reflection behind her in her vanity. “You and I both know it. You think that I don’t pay attention, but I do. He isn’t right for you, and you’ll regret this.”

“I thought that you wanted me with my best friend. It was Daddy who wanted me with someone in my class.” Now, he’s paying Simon to make me a kept woman and suddenly my best friend isn’t right for me? “Did you two switch roles?”

The woman rolled her eyes, “Your father is settling, because he thinks that a man can fix anything. Forget about the fact that women historically have been doing all of the heaviest lifting without any of the credit, whether it’s been in the workplace or in the home. The driver told us that there was something wrong with you, and we didn’t listen. We knew that we raised you to make good decisions, with morals and intelligence. The moment you introduced me to Simon, I saw that he was a bad decision. But, you talked to us, and we heard you out. This was your best friend and you wanted us to treat him like someone you cared about, and so we did. You never ask for much. It was one small task to take an unfortunate child into some of our charity. Now, look at you… some miserably defected boy’s golden goose.” She snatched up her makeup removing cloth and shook her head, “Your father is settling. You’re settling, and you’ll regret it.”

Grace grabbed a foot stool and set it next to her mother, “I didn’t know what to say. I had to say something and I couldn’t just shoot him down in front of all those people. The public would burn me at the stake for that, and Simon would be hurt, and Daddy would be displeased. I don’t even think you would have liked that.”

“Why do you think he CHOSE tonight to do this?” She asked. “You think that he just thought this was the right time to show you that he cared? He wanted an audience. He wanted to put you on the spot. He wanted to control the situation so that he could have some control over your answer! Don’t be fooled, Grace. Simon is a smart boy. He knows who you are and how you are. He knew what to say and do to get you to say yes and you fell for it.”

Grace was getting fed up with her mother’s accusations. She thought the woman had grown to like Simon, at least. She was speaking about him like he was still just some shaggy boy in a shabby suit to her. “He didn’t purposefully put me in an uncomfortable position, Mom. Simon may have a lot of problems, we ALL do… but he does love me and he would never do something to make me stressed out on purpose or try to dominate me!” 

The woman finally actually turned her face to Grace, and Grace would never forget the look of certainty in her eyes whenever she said, “Simon doesn’t even know what love is, and neither do you. What in this world would make you think that he is able to give you something that he has never been given before, himself?”

“Because, I know that I give him my love. He knows it too...” Grace said in a low voice, unsure of the truth in that, even as she said it. 

Her mother scoffed and turned back to the mirror, a bemused partial smile on her features. “Whatever it is that you two give each other… You’ll regret it, Grace. Mark my words. I haven’t changed my position at all. You should still make sure that you build a life with your best friend. My opinion is that Simon simply isn’t that. I don’t know if he ever was. You just regarded him as such because you had someone who you could control for once. But, he’s grown out of that, poppet. You didn’t even notice when he cut his strings and tied them onto you, did you? Of course not. Because, you love him. Because he’s your friend. Love makes you stupid. Friendship makes you weak. And you let him make you both.”

On principle alone, Grace was going to take her relationship with Simon as far as it could go. Just to prove that her mother was wrong. “Well, you didn’t seem to mind him whenever you needed my strings pulled.” 

Her mom was wiping off makeup. “I minded. I just knew that I have more control over him these days than I do over you. Simon may have surpassed your tactics, but the world will burn before he’s ever able to match my skills. You’ve just gone so wrong that you don’t know which way to go. Maybe you do need professional help.” She sighed, “It’s sad. You had such potential, and you’re going to end up just like me. The trophy of someone who wanted the best, only to hoard your greatness...”

She left the boudoir, angrily and found Simon and her father on the terrace, watching the guests be led out of the event. “Hey,” she said. They both turned around to see her.

“I should go find my wife,” her father said and clapped Simon on the shoulder. 

“She’s not happy,” Grace warned, under her breath. Her father hugged her and gave her a soft happy birthday. She wondered if Simon hadn’t told him that would be a nice present. That just made it feel… less than, but the entire night had been unpleasant to some degree. Or, if she now was deserving of his affection because she had found herself a good man to tame her. That just made her feel sick.

When they were alone, she stared at Simon, trying to forget the things her mother accused him of, but… something had felt off about him for a while. It wasn’t his damn eyebrows, or his hygiene, or anything like that. There was something different about him. Something that made her uncomfortable. Something that she felt like needed to be addressed, but never wanted to, because it might put them in a bad place. 

But, those were her friend’s eyes. Gray eyes, that always looked at her with fondness, from the very first time they landed on her. “Simon… What you did tonight…” He smiled. He was extremely impressed with how well he pulled it all off! She had no idea that he had worked so hard for the most spectacular gift to the Apex ever - official confirmation of Grace and Simon, their OTP, their royalty. “You shouldn’t have.” His smile faded. Her face was stern and she didn’t seem happy.

“The Internet will talk about this night forever.”

“The Internet wasn’t in that room tonight! The Internet wasn’t put on the spot, in front of all of those people. The Internet didn’t just have their mother scold them for being stupid and weak enough to have a friend and to love that friend. You put me in a really uncomfortable position, Simon. You had the chance to tell me about this whenever we talked about how important this party was to you, and you didn’t say anything.”

“I didn’t say anything because it was a surprise… A surprise that I take it ‘the impossible to please Grace Monroe’ was not pleased with.” 

“I get why you felt like you had to impress my dad, but…”

“Your dad?” He laughed, but his eyes looked anything but amused, “Your dad? You think I did that for some empty promise to your dad?”

“Why else would you do it?”

“BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!” He shouted at her, almost right in her face. She was stunned. It was the most contradictory way of saying it that she had heard and she had heard her parents tell her this before with not the slightest hint of warmth or kindness. This… was actually terrifying. 

He must’ve realized that he frightened her, because he reeled himself in and placed prayer hands over his mouth as he waited for her next words. She couldn’t find any, so he broke the silence. “I didn’t mean to yell. You just… sound like you didn’t mean it when you said yes to me. You sound like you're backing out. You sound like you’re making excuses, when you could have just told me that you don’t want me.”

Her eyes were wide with disbelief. All of those things were true, but he was saying them like they were unreasonable, considering the atmosphere that she was faced with, not to mention this completely alarming reaction to even the possibility of those facts. “Simon… Do you remember the conversation we had about the girl you liked?”

“I remember the conversation we danced around about our feelings for each other,” he said. “I remember that you said that I’m amazing and that I deserve a chance. I remember you said, “I could absolutely fall in love with a wonderful person and want to spend all of my time with them and be as fulfilled as somebody can be.. I already have that.” I remember knowing that you were afraid to lose me, and now you won’t. I don’t know what’s been up with you. That conversation was the confirmation that I needed, to know that you know that we belong together!”

“I told you that I didn’t think that I could give you what you might expect out of a relationship...” Her heart was racing as she choked the words out, not wanting to upset him, but unable to stop herself from reminding him.

“Grace, I don’t care about your sexuality. That’s a part of you and I respect that. I just get sick and tired of us pretending that there’s not something between us.”

“I’ve never pretended that…”

“Then what’s the problem? You don’t really love me?”

“I do!”

“Good! We’re on the same page again!” He collected her into a hug and she started crying on his shoulder. 

Simon felt like… She gets it. She knows how I feel, I know how she feels, and everything is right in the world again. Grace had never felt more alone, misunderstood, or confused… but, at least she still had Simon. 

They could work through these feelings. She was obviously just projecting the doubts her mother had planted. This was Simon. Her Simon. Her friend… her man? That thought didn’t even sound right, but that’s what… what was happening? She stood and stared at his face. He was watching her suspiciously, like he was looking for a sign of her doubts from moments before. She had to do something that she had done before, but had never really thought about the fact that she had to do this with Simon… she plastered on a fake smile and cupped his face. 

He sighed and rested his lips against her forehead. “My Grace,” he whispered, holding her tight. She softened, willing herself not to feel tension with Simon. She wrapped her arms around him and rested against him. It didn’t feel quite right, but she knew these arms, this scent, the rhythm of this heartbeat, and that was what she guessed she needed, to deal with… whatever the rest of that stuff was.

.

“Since you brought it up, Grace… What do you think is the significance of that talk today?” 

Grace came out of her memories of she and Simon to look at the psychiatrist. Every time she pulled herself out of a memory of Simon and the Apex, she was faced with this woman, and she was brought back to reality - the real world, where Simon was no longer in her life and she was the most trapped she had ever been. 

The large glasses, large afro, the fullest lips and a wide gap between her teeth always reminded Grace of one of those cheap pieces of Black art in the beauty supply shop… but the doctor always was dressed in a business suit and had a blank facial expression. She didn’t smile or look sad or even seem to react to anything Grace said. 

That made it easier for Grace to confide in her about everything that went down between her and Simon before she landed herself in this place. That made her more open about the things he’d done to punish her, as well as all of the things she did that made her feel like maybe she deserved some of his punishment. Everyday she told herself that she didn’t, but when the person you’ve loved more than anything for nearly half of your life turns against you, turns everyone against you… “Maybe… Maybe I messed up. I should have just told him that I couldn’t see a future for us and that I would always be his friend and nothing else. I knew that he cared about me. I should have been more direct in telling him that couldn’t happen the way that he wanted.” The doctor blinked and nodded once. “And now, I’ve said something wrong to you.”

“It isn’t that you’ve said anything wrong, Grace. You spoke your true feelings, and that’s what you’re supposed to do here. It’s never wrong of you to admit your feelings. Now that you’ve stated them, I can help you sort through them again. Whenever you spoke with Simon that day - the day that you tried to bring back to his remembrance on the night of the party, did you tell him any lies?”

“No. I was completely honest with him about everything.”

“Why do you feel like you should have lied instead? How would you suppose it might have been a benefit to either of you, for you to lie to him?”

“Because, Simon couldn’t handle my truth. I was supposed to protect him. The people in his life always abandoned him. I was the one person who he thought he could depend on, and when I could have protected him and just told him that we were friends, and that was it, I told him that I loved him and had a fulfilling relationship with him.”

“Why do you think that a lie might have protected Simon?” 

Grace shrugged her shoulders, “I guess that doesn’t make sense. But, my relationship with Simon never did. When we were little, I could always tell when something was bothering him and I always tried to smooth him over. I always made it right. Then… we got older and I noticed less and less. I realized that a lot of the stuff that I said and did to keep Simon docile were probably the same kinds of things that made him so aggressive?” Grace needed the doctor to tell her whether this sounded right or not. She hardly knew anymore. What she did know was that when she was 16, she lost her best friend, and it took her two more years to even fully see that.

Next

[lost-eternity]

Matchup Requests *CLOSED*

This was done as a trade instead of a standard match up, hence why I am permitting it. :)

Matchup for @stormra​

okie dokie I match you with...

I have to admit, this was a bit of a difficult one. It was really between Charles Grey and Sebastian. And it was close. But a few small details caused me to lean towards Grey instead of Sebby. I’ll explain why later on.

First of all, your love languages mesh rather perfectly

Charles Grey’s (inflated) ego causes him to thoroughly enjoy the praise and affection you lavish upon him

He enjoys being treated as a prince and has no inclination to returning these affections

It’s a selfish love but weirdly enough, it works

He also doesn’t give enough craps to care for society or propriety to be embarrassed or ashamed of your advances

He is quite inept at displaying physical affection and his attempts are half-hearted at best

It’s that blasted ego again

But he does try. In his own little way

He may (attempt to) awkwardly cook something for you, or more likely than not, force you to take fencing lessons

He always wins

And he goes really hard on you claiming that you would never learn if he went easy

It’s laborious and by the end of each session you are close to collapsing from exhaustion

Insert a lewd joke here, “Oh, my dear, if this is how easily you tire, I better condition you for my bedchamber...”

Yeah, it turns out he is a complete pervert sometimes

But fencing is one of the few ways he can actually express himself

Which seems a bit paradoxical if that expression is affection or love

But it is kind of cute.

He is determined to teach you, and although he may not be the most outwardly affectionate, the amount of time and effort he invests in you is enough to tell you how much he cares

He is a very busy man you know, running missions and odd errands for the queen

His free time is extremely precious for him 

So the mere fact that he is spending it with you is a lot more monumental than most people would assume

But you are smart enough to realise this

And that is one of the reasons I did not pair you with Sebastian. 

Sebastian is a lot more how shall we put it... salacious. His flirting is subtle in public but that bastard would do anything to make his lover blush, testing the limits of society and still managing to get by without being caught... somehow. It’s his way of exercising control and I think that would really clash with your love language. 

~

So,

Charles Grey is also a rather chipper fellow. 

Like "chipper" may be an understatement 

Excitable puppy man is more like it, at least when it comes to fencing... or maiming... the dude has weird hobbies

But he really understands your desire to travel. He is full of jittery energy that he uses releases running errands for the Queen, travelling across all of the UK. And really most of Europe running diplomacy missions and handling sensitive cases

He would probably be hesitant to allow you to accompany him

But you'd wear him down eventually 

Grey really understands your wanderlust, he has a hard time focusing on monotonous tasks or locations as well

So he may allow you to join him

With one *small* caveat 

You have to defeat him in a fencing duel first 

Which is absolute shit. But you understand where he is coming from.

That ego of his leads him to consider himself the best swordsman in Europe, if not the world

He figures that if you manage to strike him down then you could handle yourself with anyone 

And that is no small task

It seems entirely daunting and near impossible (which is probably another reason he assigned it)

And that brings me to my next point. 

Charles Grey needs some who is open minded and chill enough to out up with his shit

But also stubborn and outspoken enough to shut him down when he tries some spectacularly stupid

Which is why you would work well with him. Not only does your nonchalance perfectly foil his constant energy and inquisitive nature, but you also have set your boundaries and know when to shut down schemes and ideas

So yeah

You begin training extra hard

For maybe like a day

Then you give up

It's hard, everything hurts, you are exhausted, and all you MIGHT get out of it is one lousy trip

So you begin putting training sessions off

"I'm not feeling well."

"I'll start once I finish this book"

"Oooh, it's too late now"

To say that Grey would be discouraged and slightly hurt is an understatement 

His passion and life blood is fencing. He has worked really hard to get to this point and the fact that his significant other takes no interest in it wounds him

This could definitely be a point of discourse if your relationship 

But you have to remain open with each other and talk it out

That is the most important thing. Communication. And let's be honest. Charles isn't not going to say shit 

He is "too manly" or too egotistical to admit his feelings

You'd have to be the one to approach him on the matter

But I feel like you would. You are used to hearing problems from your friends. You know when something is wrong and better yet, you listen 

After a talk, he understands that it may not be the fencing specifically you are disinterested in

But you just struggle to maintain motivation 

And from that moment on, Charles Grey becomes your personal cheerleader 

He's the mom at a soccer game freaking s c r e e c h i n g and going "that's my girl!" whenever you win a match

He takes pride in all he does, and he is proud of his protégé

He never allows you to lose motivation and is (annoyingly) insistent about the fencing 

Which again, could lead to some arguments if you resist

But he is doing it from a place of love because he can see how miserable you are cooped up in the same place

He knows you

And finally, the day arrives that you set to duel Charles Grey himself. If you win, you get to attend some of his missions with him (others are too sensitive to risk being seen by a civilian)

You are understandably nervous, but also introspective. Honestly it is probably a tidal wave of emotions far too complex to convey with words

But ill try 

Let me just....

This morning was like most mornings.

A heavy fog blanketed the docile countryside, most animals just began to shake off the effects of the previous night's slumber. 

Commoners rose with the peeking rays of the sun, beginning to perform their routine tasks before the last of the fog had been burned away by the heat. For most people this day was completely, utterly, ordinary.

But not for you. 

This day meant everything. This day meant your freedom. 

You had risen before even the sun, shedding your skirts in exchange for ivory fencing gear, exchanging your fan for a rapier and your hats for a meshed mask. This had been your life for the past year, and would continue to be so until your final breath.

But today. Today was different. 

Today determined your future. And quite frankly, your sanity. 

And all you had to do was defeat your lover in close quarters combat. A monumental task in-of itself. Half of your acquaintances thought you mad, the other half patronized you, treating your struggle as a desperate cry for attention. They simply couldn't understand why a lady would go through such trouble as to challenge the country’s greatest swordsman. A woman's place was in the house, and in home is where she is complete. Why would she bother her pretty little head and sully herself in the wretched world around her? That was a man's job, such trifling affairs should be of no concern for a lady.

"She is odd, that one." They would say. But they didn't understand, how could they? 

Raised under the constrictive hand of the patriarchy, they were forced into complacency. A complacency so culturally ingrained that they themselves never sought to question it. Or, those that did often keeled to the whims of man's iron fist in fear of social ostracism and reputational backlash. 

But you were different. 

From childhood you felt the pangs, the longing to not only see but experience both the beauty and sorrow of the world around you. To learn and ingrain yourself with the cultures, to explore every nook and cranny of your planet. You could never understand why those around you seemed so content with living and dying inconsequentially, never experiencing the midnight sun or the sweeping winds of the steppe. Dying without ever truly living. Merely existing in their self-made reality, completely ignorant to the bright, beautiful world around them.

Why stay put when you can travel?

Why exist when you can live?

These questions, along with the persistent voice of your instructor (and fiancé), kept you focused and motivated. All of that training, all of those hours of arduous, grueling work had lead to this moment.

You stood within the fencing hall, the lack of bodies usually present caused the room to echo with each clicking foot fall on the tile floor. It was wide, empty, and entirely unwelcoming. It felt like a stranger to you, despite the year of training you had completed within its walls. 

Before you stood a similarly dressed figure, its face obscured by the dark meshing that covered the helmet. 

It was entirely impersonal.

A faceless enemy in a sea of a faceless crowd. 

But you knew better. His posture was all too familiar to you. The slight tilt of his head, the pitch of his shoulders, the strangely comforting steady hand in which he held his weapon. This was your lover, Charles Grey. And your opponent. 

It was definitely surreal. He rarely ever wore his mask in training. The absence of his characteristic gloating smile and talkative nature felt almost lacking. It was rare that he would be so quiet... so solemn. But he was just as aware of your current situation as you were. And how much it meant to you. 

Without a word, he raised his weapon and the battle commenced. 

It was an intense battle

With every blow he performed, your parried and dodged

With a feline grace, you danced up-top light heels, twirling and spinning in an almost melodic fashion 

Metal clashed against metal, each crack ringing through your ears

You had trained enough with him to know that he had a tendency to leave his left side unguarded and exposed

But he also trained with you to know that you can forget to guard your knees

And as the minutes tick by, marking one of the longest conflicts you had ever had with him, exhaustion sets into your bones 

And you falter

The blow is lightning fast, you hardly have a chance to comprehend his movements 

But his hips are besides yours, his knee hooked behind your leg. 

He pushed you backwards with his forearm, causing you to fall backwards, only to trip on his knee and slam against the ground

Something cool and metallic is pressed to the back your neck

You don't need to look to know it is the rapier and that you have lost

The sound of you two's laboured breaths echoes through the empty chambers

Several seconds tick by as the two of you gather your thoughts 

...You... lost

You finally turn yourself around, noticing that Charles had removed his fencing helmet

Damp silver hair sticks to his forehead, matted and plastered across his face

For a moment, a look of sorrow flickered across his handsome features, only to be replaced by that typical cheeky grin

"You lost, luv. Better luck next time, eh?"

You never really had much of a plan

But seeing that smug expression kicked your instincts into overdrive

With one fluid scissor sweep, you dislodged his balancing, a well-placed kick aiming where the sun don't shine toppled him over entirely 

And then he was on the floor next to you, his face contorted in an express of pain 

You were quick to discard his weapon and straddle him, keeping his wrists pinned above his head to the floor

"Lesson one: never trust your opponent"

You parroted this line to him, one he had told you many of times

He only managed a pained grunt in response

Chuckling, you apologized with a chaste kiss which he all too eagerly accepted 

He was probably just being theatrical to get more kisses

You did not have much time to ponder the situation before a polite round of applause erupted from a nearby alcove

You nearly jumped out of your skin

You did not notice the shawled figure, cloaked in all black, like a walking shadow 

The figure took a few steps forward, emerging to the light 

And that is when you realized who it was

Queen Victoria herself

By her side, astute as always was the man you practically considered a brother 

Charles Phipps

By now, you were extremely aware of the suggestive position you were in

Straddling Charles Grey, your hips against his, his wrists clasped tightly in your hands and pinned above his head

And oh, gods that insufferable smirk with which he was regarding 

"As you can see, your majesty, my darling is highly... proficient." Grey practically hummed

You quickly scrambled to your feet, unsure how to handle yourself in the presence of a queen

Turns out, Grey had invited her to witness your duel in hopes of securing you a position under her employ. Either as an emissary or housekeeper. 

According to Phipps, She was quite impressed by your performance, even though you lost

The only other person she had seen to be able to keep pace with Grey was Phipps... and a certain blonde who shall not be named

And that is the story of how you became the head maid for the Queen herself and an emissary on par with Grey himself, running missions as a husband-wife warrior squad, haha

~

You two probably met in an odd way

I’d say for a fact that you were attracted to Sphere music hall

It’s like that place was made for you

Semi-modern concert style music hall which people hailing from all backgrounds and classes intermingled together in harmony

Divinations and readings were done for free and in return, each patron was given a bracelet depicting their star sign. 

As a matter of fact, a lot had to do with the star signs. 

Meditations were conducted in between hours and food served

It was a really great place to go, somewhere you fit it because you had always been an outcast

Forced to keep your craft a secret in fear of retribution from the church, you usually made coin as a street performer and singer

It was not a lot, but it was certainly enough to keep you off the streets

Unfortunately that also meant you were constricted to the same place

Your family had consistently tried to marry you off to some rich white dude

Well, rich(er)

But you did not want to be wife and then a stay at home mother

That was somehow worse than your current situation

Also your opinionated and confident demeanour often scared off potential suitors

It was a serious problem because apparently women were supposed to be soft spoken and weak. 

But you on other other hand, never showed weakness

It was far too “masuline” apparently

So you decided to strike out on your own and try to make it as a singer

Easier said than done

In the music hall, you truly felt free to express yourself

Its charismatic leader put major emphasis on the stars and night sky, he was extremely introspective and the two of you instantly hit it off (I considered matching you with Blavat instead of Grey but I kinda feel like you two would work better as friends)

You were completely enthralled with his demeanour and exuberance

And you consistently attended the hall as it was the only place you felt you truly belonged, no one casting judgmental stares, no whispers behind your back, and most of all, you felt a sense of camaraderie that you have never felt before

And as a result, you fell victim to the cult

Initially, the Queen garnered concerns over the existence of this Music Hall and the traction it was gaining. As a result, she sent out her very own Charles and Phipps to scope out the place before sending word to Ciel Phantomhive

Infiltrating undercover as guests, the Queen’s handy butlers began an inspection of the area

There they ran into you

Literally

You were in the middle of entertaining a small portion of attendees with a song at the behest of Blavat himself (he was actually looking to hire you as a backup singer for the Starlight Four but you were not aware of this)

You were reaching the crescendo of your song when a drunken man slammed into you

You uttered an apology but he seemed rather intent on making himself a nuisance

“Watc’ yaaaa, yaaa stoopid *hic* bitccccc”

You took a few steps back in response as he staggered forward, raising a palm as if to strike you

Before you could react, a flash of white covered your vision

A man stood before you, sword drawn and dawned in a blindingly white coat

Silver tresses rolled down his back, as he glared up at your attacker from behind attractively long lashes

How he managed to sneak a rapier into the party was completely beyond you, yet here he was

“Now, didn’t your mama teach you manners?” He cooed, a slightly maniacal smile across his lips

“Yoooou wanna go?” The man sneered, “I can tak *hic* you pwetty boooy”

Of course, this scene began to attract attention

The murmurings and pleasant violin music had all but stopped as thousands of eyes turned to face you

Blavat had to step in, nervously defusing the situation

He had the drunkard escorted out and moved to confiscate the weapon from the white-clad man only to get the think pointed at his throat

“A man’s worth is in his sword. It would be cruel to take that away from him.”

You were entirely unsure if he was being literal or making a dirty innuendo with that statement

Regardless of his intentions, he was promptly thrown out as well

Much to the chagrin of a separate, similarly dressed man who seemed down right exasperated with his partner’s trigger happy (blade happy?) tendencies. 

You decided to follow this peculiar stranger out and thank him for what he did

You found him trying to crawl through a window, seeking re-entry into the part.

“Uh, excuse me...” You called to him as he fiddled with the lock on the window. You had no idea how he managed to climb up that high in such a short amount of time, but he had perched himself rather precariously on the window sill.

“Not right now, luv.” He called back, “I am busy.”

“I just wanted to thank you for what you did back there. I could have been hurt.”

He paused, not once looking back at you. “Right. Who are you?”

You were rather taken aback

He literally just saved you, how could he not remember you?

“Look, if you aren’t going to pay me the mind to even look at me, I won’t take the effort to thank you.” You huffed and turned to walk away

“I wouldn’t go back there if I were you.”

His voice caused you to halt in your tracks. You spun around to stare at him incredulously. “Excuse you?”

God, those silver eyes were breathtaking as he gazed at you, practically oozing with a feline grace

“Those people aren’t good people.” He stated in a matter-of-fact tone

“Oh? And what do you know about them?” You retorted defensively

“More than you, obviously.” He finally managed to pry the window open. “Her majesty has good instincts. She knows this place is dangerous, else-wise she wouldn’t have sent me.”

And with that weirdly convoluted and vague sentence, he slipped back inside and disappeared

You were left to ponder the meaning of his words

Her majesty?

This bloak knew the bloody Queen?!?!

What else did he know?

What could possibly be so bad about the hall?

You decided to call it quits early that night to process. You never thought you would ever see him again, or so you thought

~

You had been doing your research, sticking your nose in places you probably should not have

Blavat, someone you once considered a close and trusted friend almost seemed menacing to you

And he definitely picked up on your closed off body language

But you knew that something fishy was going on during those “private” events. Only specific people were ever invited (AKA not you)

It all just seemed really sus

And you were determined to find out

So you snuck in

Having spent many hours in the hall, you were aware of certain passages and entrances that others were not

And you were able to sneak in without much issue

But you weren’t able to see much

A heavy smoke filled the air, smelling pleasantly of posies and roses

Your eyes began to droop and heaviness set into your lids

And you fell asleep

You woke up, with the concerned and slightly perturbed face of Blavat staring down at you

Well, shit... busted

“We had a nice thing going, y/n. And you just had to ruin it.” Blavat stated callously. “You know those events are private.”

And with that, you were barred from entering the music hall... permanently

This was definitely rather devastating as it was the only place you could truly be yourself without fear of rejection of prosecution

But now you were more sure than ever that something was amiss in that hall

Why else would they be so strict?

You were probably only left alive because they knew that whatever gas they used to put out those in attendance also affected you before you could see anything incriminating

And so you began trying to locate that mysterious man in white 

He seemed to have more answers than you did

It did not take long to figure out his name and occupation. Charles Grey. Butler to the Queen herself

He must have been quite the impressive butler to be going out on scouting missions for the Queen and not just serving tea

Regardless, gaining an audience with him was nearly impossible 

So you would just have to attract his attention...

Somehow

Given his affinity towards sword fights, you were sure that a loud brawl outside the palace itself would almost certain garner his attention

The real question was, where in the world would you get people foolish enough to pull such a stunt and risk getting arrested

Sooo, maybe not that

You might have to work backwards

Ask around and find those that may be acquaintances with him

Which was a lot harder than it looked

It took days of searching, but you were eventually sent to speak with a mortician who according to your contact “knows everyone who is no one”... whatever that meant

It did not take too long to find out

This mortician was... eccentric to put it in the most polite of terms 

But he was definitely connected with Britain's underbelly 

Which you assumed is where the “everyone who is no one” comes from

You came in hoping to pay him off, to which he blatantly refused, instead asking for you to make him laugh

Which was an odd request but one which you were willing to comply if it meant breaking the case

You spent hours trying different tactics to no avail

Until you sang a very dirty and very perverted song (Most likely “God’s Loophoel”. Yeah, actually don’t look that up, it is exactly as it sounds)

He seemed to enjoy that far too much as his cackles were absolutely thunderous

In tears, he kindly revealed to you that he was familiar with this Charles Grey and could pull a few favours to get you in contact

But he never said when, nor did he ever say where

But he did ensure word of your snooping reached the ears of Charles Grey who surprised you in your own home whilst you were halfway dressed

He initially was very cross with you poking around, scolding you and chastising you saying that it was “no business for a lady”

But you shut him down pretty quick

And afterwards, the two of you hit it off and decided to make evening tea on Sundays a staple thing

Grey would inform you about the progress of the Sphere Music hall and in return, you would keep well away from it

It worked out for the two of you

But word of your sniffing around had also reached the ears of one certain earl and his own demonic butler

I would be careful about what questions you ask and where you poke your nose

We wouldn’t want it to get bitten off, now would we?

this was a lot of fun to write, I hope you enjoyed reading it, dear. Let me know what you thought

[lonelypond]

Moonlight Becomes You: Apocalypse Midnight Dance Party, Ch. 21

Love Live, Love Live Sunshine!, NicoMaki, NozoEli, DiaYou, 1.4K, 21/?

Summary: Dia and You chat; Nozomi has visitors.

Happy Tails To You

You moved gracefully through the halls. You moved gracefully everywhere, Dia had to admit. And suddenly Dia was under scrutiny.

“Cat got your thoughts?” “That’s not the phrase.” You stuck out her tongue, “Maybe it is and history forgot.”

Dia glanced around the grubby hallway, “Where are we?”

"My office…” You knocked sharply on a door, then opened it, waving Dia inside and grabbing a duffle bag from a bench, “”Grab a seat. I’m going to change. There’s some caffeinated stuff in the mini fridge. Don’t eat anything glowing.” “Wha…” Dia’s question was interrupted by You’s chuckle. “Kidding. Sit tight, Pim Diffy.”

Dia had decided ignoring You’s provocations was the only way to survive. 

You’s desk was neat. Several framed photos, one of a small, brightly smiling You next to a man on the deck of a ship, another of You and Kanan and a third girl, frolicking on the beach. There were a few...artifacts is the best that Dia could think of to call them, items cast in or forged from various metals that looked like they’d been salvaged from a shipwreck. And one walrus plushy. Dia couldn’t resist and picked it up.

“Nope. You can’t have that.” Dia hadn’t noticed the door open. You looked fresh in cargo pants, a light blue polo shirt, a navy knit cap, combat boots unlaced. She sat on the bench and started to tie them. “My favorite place in Japan.”

“Where?” “An aquarium. I worked there in high school.”

“Didn’t you grow up here?” 

“Mostly. My dad got a transfer in high school and I thought it would be cool. Chance to work with a world class diving coach.” You pointed to the wall behind Dia, where several medals had their own frame. “That’s just my show off for co workers set. You should see the ones I keep to show off for dates.” Dia crossed her arms, “No thank you.”

“Sorry.” You actually blushed and tried to run her hand through her hair, but instead just pushed the knit cap over her eyes. Dia giggled. 

After a briefly awkward silence, Dia got back to business, “So, why are we here?” “You mentioned a vaccine,” You said, “and here we have access to a lab.” Dia pulled out a thin, clear card with several circuit like lit segments, frowning…”I may have some research stored on my device…” Dia placed the card flat on You’s desk and twisted her fingers in the air above it, “but…”

Holographic kanji appeared in the air, glowing red. Dia frowned and pinched the one that read “Dissertation.”

“It was a good challenge. Reverse engineer the vaccine from Eli’s blood. Mom had told me stories about how out of control Eli had gotten before…” Dia spun the chair, “What happens if we can’t…” You leaned on her desk, braced on one arm, the other rubbing her cheek, “In theory, we already have…”

“Or I wouldn’t be here…” “Yeah.” You didn’t sound at all convinced.

“But…” Dia prodded.

You sighed, leaning in to just barely brush Dia’s shoulder, Dia wasn’t even certain the You had noticed the contact, “Yoshiko keeps seeing Apocalypse.” Dia shoved off the desk, shooting back to the wall, You’s treasured awards falling to the ground after they bounced off Dia's head.

“Bzzzzt.” Dia grumped. “Hey, watch my stuff.” You pushed Dia back to the desk.

Dia spun the chair, “Define apocalypses.”

You closed her eyes. “Flames, fire, darkness.”

“Sounds like wildfire season.” You shook her head, “Worse. Yohane has a prophet.” “Yohane has a prophet.” Dia repeated, eyes wide.

“It’s complicated. She’s from the future, like you are. Riko.” “RIKO?” Dia bolted up, “Riko Sakurauchi?” “Maybe.” “My sister’s songwriter is that flying disaster’s....prophet?!?!?!? BZZZZT. I will not permit it”

“Interesting tic.” “What?” ‘Bzzzttttt.”

Dia was right in You’s face, towering, “That is not a verbal tic, that is how I, Dia Kurosawa, express displeasure.”

You discovered that as furious as Dia was, she really didn’t mind being this close to her. “Your eyes are pretty.” Dia continued to loom for speechless seconds, then turned around, “I’m still not entirely sure this is not some elaborate prank.”

“I wish.” You scuffed the floor.

“Where is this lab?” Dia grabbed her card off You’s desk, “I need to see what equipment’s available. And I’m going to need some of Eli’s blood.” “I’ll text Kanan.” You pulled out her phone.

“Make sure you keep that feather brain away from me.”

“Yes ma’am.” 

Y: How’s your crazy? Mine’s way too hot.

K: Crowded. And Nico might kill someone. Y: Is that someone Yoshiko? K: Bingo.

Y: Runs in the family  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

“Lab, please.” Dia tapped You’s shoulder. “Just a minute.”

Y: We need an Eli blood sample. K: I’ll tell Nico.

Y: Let me know.

K: (b~_^)b

###

Yoshiko, no, Yohane, Nozomi corrected herself, had managed to climb on top of Nozomi’s small couch, wings swept out full and seeming cramped under Nozomi’s ceiling. Eli, all three tails wagging, was poised to leap at this new and fun feathered friend. Nozomi could see the future almost, sometimes, in her cards, but she didn’t need the seer’s gift to know what was going to happen next. Neither did Nico, who managed to shake herself out of the shock the appearance of Yohane’s wings had put her in.

“Eli, NO!” Nico ordered. 

Ready to play, Eli barked and leapt before Nozomi could grab her.  

Yoshiko waved her arms frantically, tilting herself off balance, screaming, “No doggie, good doggie, down doggie. HELP!” And then Eli crashed into Yoshiko, Yoshiko crashed into Kanan who had accurately predicted the disaster’s trajectory, and shoved up against the wall into Nozomi’s kitchen was an angel, Kanan, puppy pile, Eli excitedly bouncing on everyone.

Maki watched Nico. Anger and amused exasperation and concern and so many emotions flashed across her face. Settling on determined, she marched over to the pile, reached in, arms around Eli’s chest, yanked back, and let Eli lick her face happily.

“Nico is glad you’re in a good mood, Eli, but calm down.”

Eli woofed, tails wagging and bounded back to Nozomi, who ruffled the fur between her ears fondly.

“I made coffee.” Hanamaru stood in the doorway of the kitchen with a tray in hand, then glanced at where Yoshiko was morosely staring at a new hole in her jeans that Eli had torn, “Oh, that was the noise. Yoshiko, don’t wreck Nozomi’s furniture.” “It wasn’t me, it was that…” Wings fluttering, Yoshiko whined and pointed to Eli.

“Hey, you, pigeon of darkness.” Nico snapped. “Eli can’t help herself.”

“No, I don’t think she can.” Nozomi agreed.

“But she’s never had three tails before.”

Nozomi knelt next to Eli, Eli bopping Nozomi’s nose with her snout, “The face is different, dontcha think?”

Nico moved so she could get a better look, “Yeah, maybe, narrower. Nico’s not sure.” “It’s more like a fox.” Maki offered.

“Fox…” Nozomi’s eyes went wide, “Kitsune. They have….” “Three tails.” Kanan said.

“Or more.” Nozomi had a casual arm around Eli, who leaned into her.

“Oh, Eli, what are you doing?” Nico sighed.

“But she’s calmer, Nico. Isn’t that good?” Maki’s voice was quiet.

“Yeah, she was very aggressive when she changed at the studio.”

“She likes me.” Nozomi hugged Eli, who kept wagging.

“She likes Nico too.”

“She doesn’t like me.” Maki stepped through the crowded room, kneeling down to pet Eli, “but she’s friendly enough now.”

Yohane rose, hands hovering over Eli, “Yohane senses a divine touch, reaching from the past, to save us, a silent strength of the ancestors.”

“Sure, pigeon.” Nico snapped, then shook her head. “Nico’s never been on a set this weird and Nico’s done sci fi porn.”

“WHAT!” A startled Maki got Eli barking again. Nozomi went back to petting, eyes roving over Eli as if to memorize every detail.

“Kidding,” Nico winked, “It was an animated parody of sci fi porn and still not as weird as this.”

Maki, arms crossed across her torso, slunk back to the corner by the stairs.

Kanan’s phone went off. She typed a few messages. “It’s You. We need a blood sample from Eli.” “Why?” Nico asked sharply.

“Can’t say.” “Can’t say?” Nico had a new target. Maki wondered when they could get some time alone together. “You better say.”

Eli with a soft bark broke away from Nozomi and walked to Kanan, bumping against Kanan’s leg until she was acknowledged. 

“Do you want to go see You, Eli?” Kanan asked.

Eli wagged her tails. “I’m going too.” Nico announced. “Of course you are.” Maki muttered.

“No one else move.” Nico turned, grabbed Maki’s arm and started pulling her downstairs.

“Coffee?” Hanamaru asked.

Nozomi snorted. Eli yawned.

A/N: Hello.

[lailaliquorice]

sleepwalking since I was thirteen

no prompt for this one because I have a permit that says I can do what I want ;) nah I just found the title from a song lyric and changed the age to thirteen because it fits kat’s history better. 

as much as it doesn’t look like it from the preview, this is actually very soft fluff rather than angst. you don’t really see aragon and kat’s relationship talked about as much as jane’s and kat’s which I think is a real shame because these two have so much potential. is there hinted aramour here? maybe. you decide <3

Kat’s nightmares were a long-accepted fact of life in the queens’ house. They had been serious in the first couple of months, recurring almost every night and leaving Kat so drained that some days could be just as much of a struggle too. But a long time of therapy and counselling had made them a lot more infrequent and a lot less traumatic when they did happen, so the other queens were no longer on high alert for any noises from Kat’s room whenever they woke up during the night. It was a weight lifted from everyone’s shoulders, most of all Jane’s and Anne’s.

But there were still some nights where the dark figures crept back into her dreams. She didn’t always scream anymore but she would still wake up drenched in cold sweat with harsh breaths catching in her throat, hands trembling as she rubbed tears away from her eyes and wondered why this had to happen to her again.

Like always she was scared to just try and fall straight back to sleep after waking up, the shadows lurking in her room feeling just as scary as she silhouettes looming behind her eyes. So she threw back the tangled duvet and stood up on shaking legs, pulling her dressing gown around her before silently opening her bedroom door and heading down the stairs.

To her surprise there was still a light on in the living room when she arrived downstairs; a glance towards Anna’s room told her it wasn’t her since her door was closed, meaning it had to be someone else still awake. Not wanting to talk to anyone just yet she went into the kitchen first, flicking the kettle on and rummaging around the cupboard for Jane’s box of peppermint tea bags.

She was leaning against the counter, cradling her steaming mug with her dressing gown pulled over her hands, when there was a light knock at the kitchen door to gently catch her attention.

Kat jumped at the sound, a few drops of tea spilling over the rim of the mug to soak into the soft fabric of her dressing down. “Sorry,” she said on instinct, steadying her mug before looking up towards the door to see who had been in the living room.

“Don’t be sorry, that was my fault for making you jump,” Aragon said. She too was wrapped up in her dressing gown though hers was heather grey rather than pink like Kat’s, and the sleepy rasp to her voice suggested she’d accidentally fallen asleep where she was rather than stayed up for any particular reason.

Shrugging slightly, Kat looked her in the eye nervously for a second before dropping her gaze again. “S’alright,” she muttered, then asked “How come you’re awake? Didn’t think anyone’d still be up.”

A slight smirk appeared on Aragon’s face. “I fell asleep reading. Don’t tell Jane,” she said with a wink, stifling a yawn with one hair as she ran her hand through her sleep-mussed curls with the other. It wasn’t often that Kat got to see her looking so human when she was so much more uptight during the day, and as she returned the smile shyly she thought of how nice it was.

“Don’t tell Jane I’m here either,” Kat said, her voice dropping closer to a whisper as her mind took her back to the reason why she was downstairs in the first place.

Aragon frowned at the pained expression on Kat’s face, crossing the kitchen to give her a concerned look from close up. There was silence for a few seconds as Kat tried to not drop Aragon’s lingering gaze and shy away like she so desperately wanted to, but she managed not to until Aragon said softly “Nightmares, love?”

Kat gave a tiny sniffle as she bowed her head at last.

Hesitant fingertips brushed Kat’s shoulder for a moment, waiting to see if she would react before a hand was rubbing her arm soothingly. “Let’s go and sit down,” Aragon said, leading Kat into the living room where the dim lamplight cast a comforting glow over the room. Aragon sat down first on the sofa and Kat instinctively leaned into her side, keeping a careful hold of her mug as she tucked her legs underneath herself and rested her head on the soft material of Aragon’s dressing gown.

“It wasn’t as bad as they used to be,” Kat murmured after a minute’s comfortable silence, feeling comfortable enough to talk now that she could never be vulnerable with Aragon sat next to her. She sat up and took a sip of her tea as she added “But I still don’t like going back to sleep afterwards.”

“That’s understandable,” Aragon said with a nod. Kat was immediately reminded of why Anne said she often preferred to go to Aragon when something was wrong rather than Jane. Whereas Jane was amazing at offering comforts and sympathies and making her feel like everything was going to be ok, Aragon’s more logical style of comfort made her feel like she could say anything at all and there would never be a hint of judgement in her kind eyes.

Aragon falling quiet again was a clear prompt for Kat to continue, so she cleared her throat before speaking again. “I don’t get them often anymore and they’re never as scary because I know I can stand my ground now. I know better now – I know it wasn’t my fault so my dreams can’t guilt me anymore, and I know I’m safe when I wake up. I knew I was dreaming so I just had to get myself to wake up and then they couldn’t hurt me anymore.”

There was a warm smile on Aragon’s face when Kat turned to look at her as her words ran out. “You’ve done so very well,” she said, the fondness in her voice bringing a tiny smile to Kat’s own lips. “You were always stronger than those who hurt you, and I’m so glad you can see that now. We’re all so proud of you, Katherine.”

This time it was tears of happiness that pricked in Kat’s eyes, and she willingly obliged when Aragon tightened the arm around Kat’s shoulders to pull her into a tight embrace.

Kat didn’t stay smiling for long though, as the question she’d woken up with continued to play on her mind until she couldn’t keep it inside any longer. “Why do they have to come back though?” she asked quietly, her expression falling flat and her voice void of emotion.

Aragon sighed as she released the arms that encircled Kat’s back. “I wish I could tell you,” she said, and the honesty in her tone meant more to Kat than any false promises would have been. “All I can say is that they are already lessening, and they’ll continue to do so until you rarely see them again. Because that’s how time heals.” She gave Kat a knowing look as she finished; one that said that even though the demons they faced weren’t the same, she still knew somewhat what she was going through.

“Yeah, I know. Thanks,” Kat said, shrugging one shoulder a little helplessly.

They were quiet for a moment before Kat yawned, mumbling out a muffled apology as Aragon chuckled. “Would you like to stay in my room for the rest of the night?” Aragon asked. “A change of scenery and someone there with you might help you sleep easier.”

She smiled, shyly. “I’d really like that.”

After draining what little tea she had left, Kat rinsed her mug out in the kitchen while Aragon turned out all the lights before the two of them went back upstairs. As always she found herself hesitant to go more than a few steps into Aragon’s bedroom before Aragon prompted her to sit down on the bed; despite how much she loved all the queens, with the exception of Jane and Anne she always felt like she was invading their spaces by going into their bedrooms uninvited.

“Come on,” Aragon repeated with a hint of laughter to his tone, waiting for Kat to take off her dressing gown and lie down comfortably before she turned the light off to leave them bathed in lamplight once again.

Kat watched through tired eyes as Aragon finished getting ready for bed, braiding her hair quickly and hanging up her dressing gown, before she got into bed beside Kat. Her hand hovered over the switch of her bedside lamp for a second but then she turned to her and said “Can I ask something? Why did you tell me not to tell Jane?”

There was a moment where Kat shifted uncomfortably just thinking of the right words before she responded. “I don’t know,” she started reluctantly, “I guess… I love her but I don’t want her to think that I’m struggling all the time. I get worried she thinks that I only use her when I’m upset.”

“She would never think that about you, you know? She loves you a lot,” Aragon said, the dim light illuminating the slightly exasperated smile on her face as she met Kat’s gaze. “She just wants to be there for you through all this, and outside it too. Because we stay by each other through the good as much as the bad, and she knows that.”

“I know, I know,” Kat nodded. She paused for a few seconds after that, sighing deeply, before she looked at Aragon with a hint of a cheeky smile. “That means you should tell Jane you fell asleep earlier too. She cares about you just as much,” she pointed out.

Aragon’s smile widened and grew a little sheepish at that. “I suppose you’re right,” she said. She turned over to turn the lamp off and plunge them into a comfortable darkness, and through the sound of her shifting to lie down properly Kat heard her add “We can both tell her about our midnight venture tomorrow, how about that.”

“Yeah,” Kat whispered, closing her eyes and hoping that as sleep came it didn’t bring any more dreams.

The next morning Jane would notice neither Kat or Aragon awake by the time they were normally up and go to check on them, first looking around Kat’s open door before knocking lightly on Aragon’s. The sight of the pair still fast asleep next to each other in Aragon’s bed brought a happy smile to her face, touched and grateful to Catherine for looking after Kat in her absence. As she headed back downstairs with the intention of making breakfast in bed for them, she thought of how lucky she was that the two of them had each other and that she could call them both her family.

[briannmayy]

Okay two things 1. YOU HAVE A SCHOOL PUPPY?!?!?!? 2. Could you write something fluffy about being on the tour bus with Brian and the boys and playing scrabble just a nice fluffy one thank you!!

I AM SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG TO POST, MY LIFE HAS BEEN HECTIC AS HELL AND THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT WITH ME 

Night had fallen on the tour bus. You and Brian said to one side of the booth while Fred and John occupied the other side. Roger stayed on a single chair at the end of the table, eyeing his pieces through bleary blue eyes.

You shuffled around Brian’s pieces, trying to come up with a word from them. That was usually an easy task, but midnight had already passed and it was safe to say that you and the boys had been worn to the bone. It was unsure on whether the game would be heating up, but it was obvious that Freddie was getting upset about his pieces. You glanced at him every few moments to see his facial expression. It was twisted between confusion and frustration.

You began to pick out the word “ANNUL” on the board.

“You know that’s not fair,” Roger grumbled, his blue eyes moving from his pieces to yourself.

“What isn’t?” Brian asked before you could answer.

“You have two brains, it’s not fair.” He pouted.

“We’ve played like this since we came on the bus.” I grinned over to Roger.

“Doesn’t mean it’s fair.” He said, placing the word “NUT” on the board.

“You’re just mad because you don’t aren’t on a team,” John answered, glancing over his own pieces. “And you’re losing.”  

“Am not!” Roger protested, ”I’m great at this game.”

Though he was whining, he was right,  he really was good at the game. You recalled the nights when Fred and Roger would spend hours playing the game after you, Brian, and Deaky would go to sleep.

“Quit whining Rog, just prove it,” Freddie replied, looking over his letters.

Roger leaned back and crossed his arms in his chair. Deaky placed the word “TASK”

Now it was Freddie’s turn. He stared down at his pieces with the intensity of a general planning a battle. Brian wrapped his arm around your shoulder and leaned back into the leather booth. You both were tired as hell and the effects of the coffee you brewed for John and yourself were beginning to wear off. “What’s the time love?”

Brian’s eyes fell down to his watch that clung onto his thin wrist.”2:55.” He replied, putting his head back. Usually, he was really into the game and it was you falling asleep but he put every bit of emotion into tonight’s show and it worn him down. You stared down to your lap and grinned as you recalled the concert. He really put all of his emotion into his guitar solos and you truly feel it. You looked over to Freddie who was obviously getting frustrated over his pieces.

“We should just call it a night, alright?” Brian said, his head still back and eyes closed.

“Not until I’m done,” Freddie said, putting his head in his hand. He picked up the pieces for the word “VIN” and placed them on the board.

“Can we go now, your highness?” Brian joked, bringing his head up, an exhausted smile dancing across his face. “Yes, of course, my royal subjects.” Freddie returned the tired smile and got up from his seat. You and Brian took the leather sofa, or at least the tour bus equivalent in the back together. You didn’t find it comfortable and neither did he but it would have to suffice for a few more nights. You laid your head down Brian lap and he ran a hand through your hair that drew you closer to sleep.

A light was on down the hall from you and Brian, Freddie and Deaky were talking quietly to each other. Roger lied on the leather chairs on the side of the bus. He obviously wasn’t too tired because he got up and joined in Fred’s and John’s conversation.

You felt a soft peck on your cheek and you rolled on your back to look up at Brian. “Hey, Bri?” You asked, reaching up and touching one of his curls. He didn’t enjoy people touching them but he did permit it on occasion.

“Yes, Y/N?” This must have been one of the few times he let it happen.

“You did great tonight, you know?” You grabbed his hand and held it close to your chest.

“We didn’t win that many points, love.”

“No, no,” You began in a hushed voice, ”at the concert tonight, you did great.” You smiled softly up to him. The other three were still talking to each other down the hall, not hearing any of you and Brian’s conversation.

“Oh.” He voice was quiet,” thank you.” He seemed to draw back into his mind after the words fell from his lips. Brian was hard on himself for most of the time, which made it hard for him to accept compliments. You waited for him to bring up that he might has misplaced a finger on a chord or something. There wasn’t any though, which made you smile. You wanted to let him know he was good at what he did.

“We’ll win tomorrow night with Scrabble.” You said, squeezing his hand, pulling him out from his mind.

“Hm?” He said, snapping himself from his trance and looking down at you.

“I said we’ll win at scrabble tomorrow night.” You repeated. You got up from his lap and brushed a curl out from his face. He looked so tired, his eyes were red and his under eyes. You pressed your lips against his cheek and almost instinctively, he brought his hand to your waist.

“I think we should get to bed, my love.” He sighed, pulling back and drawing his thumb across your blushing cheek.

“I think you’re right.” You said grabbing his shirt and pulling him down with you onto the couch in a fit of giggles. “Bri, I think you forget how good you are at what you do.”

“What do you mean?” He said, one side of his dark curls pressed against the couch.

“I mean I think you’re too hard on yourself, you have to give yourself some credit once and a while.” You said, pushing some of your own hair from your face.

“I hardly think-” he started before you pressed a finger against his lips.

“No talking, just think about it.” You smiled tiredly before kissing his cheek again, “and you should really get to sleep too, you’ve got another show tomorrow night.”

“You too, darling.” He said, wrapping an arm around you, pulling you close to his chest. You rested your head on the center of his chest and slowly drifted off to the lulling engine of the tour bus.

[slytherinknowitall]

Potion Fumes and Cauldron Leaks

Chapter 6: Early Advances Between Dusty Phials

(Click here for chapter 5!)

(Click here to start from the beginning!)

Disclaimer: I don’t own the “Harry Potter” book series. The story of “Harry Potter” is the property of J. K. Rowling, it is not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.

Even though she would have never admitted it to anybody – especially not to her friends or the Potions Master himself – Hermione started to regret being Snape’s apprentice relatively soon. After embarrassing herself so severely and barely being able to hold back her tears during their first lesson, it only went downhill from there.

Having to create the start-of-term assignments for all years (except for her own, of course) turned out to be the most pleasant task the teacher had planned for her. After only a few weeks of working under Professor Snape, her back was already in constant pain from crouching over to finely mince hundreds upon hundreds of Alihotsy leaves, her hands were terribly calloused from pestling the rock-like horns of Catalonian Fireballs, and her eyes were reddened and unceasingly burning after spending dozens of hours over bubbling cauldrons while stirring various types of concoctions. Even though she had always loved the art of potion-making and was actually thinking about pursuing a career in that field, she was now questioning whether or not she should continue with the apprenticeship. To make matters even worse, the Quidditch trials had started at the beginning of the second school week which meant that Ginny, Harry and Ron were too busy to spend a lot of time with her. And so only a few days into her final year, the teenager already felt pathetically lonely.

“I just don’t understand why he’s being so nasty to me,” Hermione thought grimly as she made her way from the light-flooded Advanced Arithmancy Studies classroom on the castle’s first floor to the bitter cold depths of the dungeons. Earlier this morning, an owl had delivered a note from her tutor to the window of her small suite. It had instructed her to come to his office at 10 a.m., despite the fact that that was her free period.

“I’ve never had these kinds of problems with any other professor! I mean, not to sound smug, but I’m one the most accomplished students Hogwarts has ever seen – and Head Girl on top of that! Every other teacher is at the point where they almost treat me as their equal, but Professor Snape doesn’t even show me an ounce of respect. Why does he have to be so vicious and mean? Unlike Harry, Ron and his ‘oh so cherished’ Slytherins, I at least put some genuine effort into my work. And yet he still hates me for some reason!” The young witch furrowed her brows as her light steps echoed across the grey stone floor.

“And he’s not even taking his job as my instructor seriously! How will hours of scrubbing stinky cauldrons and polishing the classroom’s desks help me in becoming better at brewing potions?”

Soon enough, she reached the heavy door leading to the professor’s office. Before she had the chance to knock, however, a disgruntled “Enter!” resounded from the room on the other side. Pushing the door open, she caught a first glimpse of the pale man’s moody expression. “Great,” she thought to herself. “It’s not even midday and he’s already in a sullen mood. Lucky me!”

“You’re late,” he snarled before she could even take a step into the room.

*************** *************** ***************

“Late? But it’s only two past ten, Professor!” the girl said with a quick glance at her wristwatch.

A look of surprise crossed Snape’s face for a millisecond before he was able to mask it. The small Muggle device looked almost identical to the one he had on his wrist at this exact moment; they were both made of the same plain black leather. While most electrical devices did not work at Hogwarts, old-fashioned watches seemed primitive enough to not go haywire around all the magic. He himself had found this out during his own years as a student, but he had yet to encounter anybody else who also knew of that piece of information. So he was genuinely caught off guard.

The Potions Master growled quietly. He was more than irritated with himself over this little surge of emotion. “Don’t be foolish, Severus! Sooner or later, some student who grew up in the Muggle world would have been bound to discover this detail. That stupid brat isn’t special in any way,” he berated himself.

“I do believe my note said ten o’clock, not two past ten.”

“Well, yes, but I had Advanced Arithmancy Studies until ten. Even though I left early, it still takes a few minutes to get from the first floor down to the dungeons, sir.”

“Aren’t you a witch, Miss Granger? As one, being punctual should be an easy task. I do seem to recall a period of time when you were able to attend several classes simultaneously. Yet you cannot arrive on time to a simple meeting?”

He saw her open her mouth to fire back, but he quickly cut her off. “Anyway, it is not my job to teach you basic manners. For your tardiness, I shall deduct ten points from Gryffindor. Now that that’s settled, let’s move on to the actual reason of why I ordered you here.”

She frowned in frustration as he continued. “Yesterday, our beloved gamekeeper decided to introduce the first-year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws to a pack of Crups. Interesting creatures, I’ll admit; however, he seems to have forgotten to warn them about the beasts’ dislike for Muggles beforehand. Two Muggle-born Hufflepuff students, fraternal twins to be exact, wore hand-knitted scarves made by their mother. Irritated by the scent, the alpha male attacked the both of them. Thankfully, they didn’t obtain any severe injuries, but they are suffering from concussions and are still slipping in and out of consciousness. Madam Pomfrey has therefore asked me to prepare two fresh batches of Wideye Potion. As this is an urgent matter and the potion already takes a long time to brew as it is, I require your help to speed up the process.”

The brunette had a shocked expression on her face. “Two injured students? Why was I not informed of this immediately?! As Head Girl, it is my duty to –“

Severus cut her off. “Lighten up, would you? I am sure that Madam Pomfrey had other things in mind while she was busy caring for those two students. Besides, it would have been unnecessary anyway. What would you have done – go to the infirmary and hold their little hands?”

The young woman was visibly boiling inside but kept her mouth shut. He continued, “I have asked Mr Filch to supervise the students I would have normally taught this period. Since they were given a written assignment and aren’t working on a potentially dangerous potion, he should be able to manage. However, this means that the classroom is occupied. I therefore have no other choice than to use my personal laboratory for this task.” He could see her hazel eyes light up immediately.

“Don’t get any foolish ideas, Miss Granger. This will be a one-time-only occurrence. As you will enter my private chambers, I will expect you to behave accordingly. You will not touch anything or move around freely unless permitted. You will also not mention the fact that you entered my rooms to anyone.” The wizard made a small pause before carrying on. “We will be using ingredients from my personal storage room, which you shall use sparingly. I will require your help for the first few steps after which the potion has to brew for several hours. Following this, I will perform the final steps on my own and then deliver the bottles myself after dinner. Now, we shouldn’t waste any more time. Follow me.”

Standing up abruptly, Snape left through the office door and started to make his way through the dungeons’ winding hallways. Not once looking back to make sure that his apprentice was still behind him, he soon made a turn and entered a small passageway hidden behind a statue of a famous wizard, who lived during the 17th century. Reaching the unsightly painting leading to his quarters and ignoring the tedious knight living inside it as always, he quickly muttered his password – of course, making sure to be quiet enough so that the witch couldn’t hear it. When the frame swung to the side, the both of them entered and found themselves in the teacher’s sitting room.

He could see her look wander across the room, and he knew that she must have been taken aback by its appearance. Except for a small open-hearth fireplace and a black wooden door on each wall, every single inch of vertical space was covered in old, battered book shelves, which literally held thousands of literary pieces. Severus had always been a bookworm and while he owned an impressive collection of wizarding books – some of which were rare one-of-a-kind volumes – he also possessed a wide array of Muggle classics. And though he had always been a true Slytherin, the former Death Eater hadn’t found it necessary to decorate his quarters in the corresponding colours. Truth be told, there wasn’t a splatter of silver or emerald green to be found in any part of his private chambers. The two big wing chairs facing the fireplace were of a deep purple colour and the fuzzy rug on the floor in front of them was midnight blue. The large mirror hanging above the mantel as well as the elegant chandelier lightening up the room with faint candle light were coated in yellow gold. In the back of the sitting room, there was also a navy blue sofa and a small table made of Macassar ebony next to an old-fashioned secretary loaded with dozens of pieces of parchment paper and some ink-smeared quills.

Before the student could take in anything else, Severus ushered her through one of the four doors which led to the Potions Master’s pride and joy: his private laboratory. It was a rather cold room, only embellished by the countless phials in all the colours of the rainbow that lined it. Over the years, he’d equipped his workroom with numerous appliances and tools from all over the world, thus making it a potions lab even the most experienced brewers would give a finger for. He kept it immaculately clean too as dust and other forms of dirt could easily distort the ultimate result of a potion. No one, not even the headmaster himself, had ever set foot in this room. And now he was standing here with the insufferable know-it-all. Severus sighed internally.

“All right, Miss Granger,” he said. “We shall start immediately. I am sure that you have had the Wideye Potion recipe memorised since I taught it to you during your third year.”

She nodded her head to confirm. “Good. While I will begin by crushing the snake fangs and the Standard Ingredient, I would like for you to heat up the Dried Billywig Stings in that cauldron over there. Remember that since the infirmary is in need of two batches, we will need to double the amount of every single component. You may take the required ingredients from my storage room in the back, but do not touch anything else.”

For a short while, they worked in silence. Using an antique mortar obtained during a recent journey to Bulgaria, Severus was so focused on his task that he’d almost forgotten about his student’s presence in the room. Once he had finished and looked up, however, he had to gulp. Having taken off her long robes and grey jumper, Granger was biting her chapped lips in concentration as she was standing bent over the bubbling cauldron, which was almost half her size. The first few buttons of her white blouse had been opened and its sleeves were rolled up to her elbows. Due to the heat and steam coming from the boiling potion, her brown locks were clinging onto her forehead as a few beads of sweat were rolling down from her pale face to her slender neck.

The half-blood quickly turned away. It was the first time that he noticed that the girl he had taken a dislike to during the very first lesson he’d taught her was not the same bushy-haired 11-year-old child with the buck teeth anymore. Unbeknownst to him, she had blossomed into an attractive young lady right in front of his eyes.

“Attractive?! She’s my student! I must have been lacking female company for a bit too long if I am starting to have impure thoughts about the Golden Trio’s Hermione Granger herself,” he criticised himself angrily.

“Sir?”

Alarmed, Severus turned around only to stare directly into the widened eyes of the Gryffindor Princess. “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you. It’s just that I’m done with the Dried Billywig Stings and would now like to add the rest. If you’re finished, that is,” she said, seemingly a bit out of breath. The wizard noted that her cheeks were slightly blushed.

“Ah, yes, Miss Granger … Go ahead.” He frowned at how hoarse his voice suddenly appeared to sound.

(Click here for chapter 7!)

[jaeminfilm]

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘵  ; 𝘭𝘦𝘦 𝘫𝘦𝘯𝘰.

genre: angst style: oneshot warnings: mentions of depression

summary: you’re not the same girl who fell in love with him but you are the girl he fell in love with.

–––––

the first thought lee jeno has when he steps onto american soil is your name. which is weird, because you two had broken up a long time ago. he’d even dated a couple of people after you, but here he is, stepping onto american soil with your name being the only thing on his mind. 

he can’t shake this feeling, this feeling that had something to do with you, even though he has no idea what the feeling is.

maybe it’s the fact that he had always thought that when he’d come to america, he’d be coming home to you after all the calls you had spent talking about meeting. except he has no reason to come to america looking for you, and  he hasn’t had one for a year now. yet here he is, under the same expanse of sky as you, somehow hoping that he had a shot at seeing you again.

all in all, the way you two had met hadn’t been the most conventional. in fact, your relationship wasn’t conventional and that’s why it had been a secret between you two and a select few, because not many people would’ve encouraged a long distance relationship between two sixteen year olds where the chances of meeting each other and lasting just wasn’t likely. 

(and in your case, it really hadn’t been). 

it had been a year into the relationship when you had begun to want something more– something real, palpable, something you could touch, and when you were crying at midnight heavily considering a relapse, jeno’s texts to you while he was in class weren’t it. it wasn’t your fault, nor was it his, but at the time it had been irreconcilable. with priorities naturally falling into place at the time, you couldn’t be his first.

and so you two realized that it wouldn’t work. at least you had realized it when jeno had told you your expectations of him were too high, and he had begun to distance himself from you. what he hadn’t told you was that he had been too afraid, afraid that he would never amount to what you wanted, to what you needed and deserved. you were both only seventeen after all, and an ocean away from each other.

so jeno started to leave in the moments where you needed and wanted him most, even if it were his measly snuck-in texts in his four pm classes and him calling you when it was already too late.

you would’ve taken it. but then he left completely.

–––––

the first thing jeno does the day after unpacking all of his stuff is go to the mall. he needs clothes suited for the heat of southern california rather than the snow of south korea, so he goes with his older siblings even if he finds himself separated from them after a while. 

he might as well enjoy himself, he figures when he looks around to see his siblings nowhere to be found. his eye catches sight of a smoothie stand, and he licks his lip as he nears the cashier.

“what can i get for you, sir?”

“berry antioxidant smoothie, please.”

it’s automatic, the way he orders the smoothie that he remembers you love, because it makes you feel fake healthy even when it’s loaded with sugar. 

he prefers more chocolatey smoothies, but when he takes a sip of your smoothie, he gets why you had loved it so much. maybe he’ll start loving it too.

–––––

he’s debating between getting the yellow sweatshirt and the black sweatshirt when he pulls out his phone, scrolling through his contacts for the familiar contact of your name to ask you which one he should get when he realizes that that’s not possible. 

you two had been broken up for a year.

he thinks the californian air is getting to him, that breathing the same air as you is getting to him. he keeps thinking about you, your name like bile in his chest and he’s on edge, even if he doesn’t know if you’re still even in the city. you should be in college by now, and your dream had always been london. 

so he concludes that you’re in london by now, quietly tucking away his phone and picking the yellow sweatshirt over the black sweatshirt, just because you would’ve picked the black one.

he left you a year ago, and he doesn’t have the right to mourn that. he doesn’t have the obligation to follow what you want, because he had broken your heart. not the other way around.

he tosses his half-finished smoothie into the trash can as he leaves the store with the plastic bag in hand.

no matter where you were, this city would always remind him of you, and no matter where he was, he would always find the time to think about you.

(he doesn’t realize that he had broken his own heart when he left you).

it’s jeno’s first day of classes at the local university. the campus is huge, and he’s not used to it, nor is he comfortable with it as he struggles to navigate the area. his siblings, rather than attending university, are already job hunting (and illegally driving alone with their learner’s permits), so he’s in uncharted territory alone. 

the campus is beautiful, he has to admit– overseeing the distant southern californian beach and a valley of trees that was well-maintained for a desert area. flowers had been planted along the walkways, and there were fountains and statues marking every few buildings in a manner that made it a little bit harder to get lost. 

the school itself is big enough to have its own maps app, and he watches his phone closely as he tracks the moving dot that denotes his position that’s (hopefully) nearing his destination until he collides with another person.

“sorry about that–” jeno begins, looking up to see a male around his age– korean too, he can tell– who holds a purple smoothie and a coffee cup up high because his two drinks almost spilled from the collision.

“it’s cool, don’t worry about it. at least the smoothie didn’t spill or else my girlfriend would be really mad,” he laughs, “i’m jaemin, by the way. you new here too?” 

jeno blinks, before clearing his throat and smiling. “yeah, name’s jeno.” 

“so, jeno, where are you headed? i could help you, i’ve been around here for a while even for a new student.” 

“uh, chemistry with–”

“burner? i’m on my way there to drop off my girlfriend’s smoothie, i’ll walk with you!” jaemin cheerily offers, already taking the left turn jeno was just taking when they bumped into each other. 

jaemin’s easy to get along with, jeno quickly realizes and comes to appreciate. he doesn’t question the broken english of the platinum blonde haired boy, instead automatically slipping into a conversation in their native language. he finds out that jaemin’s on the soccer team and that he’s a commit– whatever that means, because it definitely isn’t a thing in korea– but majors in biochem. the mention of the subjects makes jeno’s nose scrunch. it makes jaemin laugh– he understands.

“my girlfriend hates chemistry too, but somehow, it’s how we met in high school,” jaemin chimes when he notices the sourness on jeno’s facial expression. the sourness on jeno’s face morphs into an almost nostalgic simper as he arrives at a door with jaemin. you had hated chemistry too.

“this is the chemistry lab, by the way.” 

the slightly shorter boy nods as he follows the other in, and jaemin immediately makes a beeline towards a girl with long black hair and blonde highlights on the bottom half.

“hey babe,” jeno makes out just as jaemin swoops in for a kiss and places the smoothie in front of her. then he waves the other over.   

an awkward smile making its way onto his lips, he goes to stand beside the cheerful boy, whose girlfriend turns to look at the boy her boyfriend beckoned over. she has her zodiac sign tattooed right below her ear, he notices. 

immediately, the polite smile that she dons falters from her lips, replaced with a more forced and awkward one, and she sets the smoothie down, hand moving to clasp onto jaemin’s hand that lays on her shoulder. the latter doesn’t notice, because his eyes are on jeno as he introduces them.

but they know each other already. 

there’s a brief silence between the two of them, jaemin’s eyes shifting between them in confusion until jeno breaks the silence, his heart already aching by the way her mouth opens and then closes because she can’t find the words to say.

“i guess london didn’t work out, huh?” jeno says, with a bittersweet smile as he lets the fact that his first love is happy with another boy who buys her smoothies just like he promised he would one day and helps her with chemistry like he never could sink in.

"no, it didn’t. but i guess you really did find your way here eventually,” she replies, a look in her eye that jeno can’t quite pinpoint. he swallows thickly, as if he’s swallowing all his emotions, all the weight in the world.

“yeah, i did. a little too late, though.”

she can only force a polite smile at jeno for that one, and he figures he deserved that.

–––––

the thing about first loves is that they never leave. you can date a million people, you can find your soulmate, or you can find your true love, but they’ll never be the first love. they’ll never be the person who taught you what it was like to love, what it was like to hurt, and they’ll never replace the person who owns that little locked space in your heart. 

you didn’t realize that until your first love was right in your face in a way you never thought he would be, but jeno had realized that with the first girl he had dated after you. he had this fear that he’d never love her as much as he loved you, and the fear had been right. he didn’t, so she had left him.

but standing in front of you right now, jeno realized that you loved jaemin just as you had loved him, if not more. it was in the way that even after you had shared a polite conversation with him full of memories of the distant past, you looked back at jaemin with a reassuring look in your eyes as you rubbed circles with your thumb into the ligatures of his hands. it was in the way you offered to walk with him to his class all the way across campus even though you seemed to already know he’d say no, and in the way that when jaemin left, your kiss on his lips lingered a little longer than the kiss hello. it was in the way you slapped jaemin’s shoulder when he told you to text him if there was anything you didn’t understand in the class, pouting as you claimed it was only the first day and that he needed to focus on his own class.

it was in the way you looked at jeno, with a look in your eyes that was unfamiliar to him because he had grown used to you looking at him with nothing but adoration and love. 

it wasn’t the same look he was used to.

he had left you, so you had let him go.

you were no longer the girl who fell in love with him, but you were still the girl that held a special place in his heart. you were still the girl he had loved, and he wishes more than anything that he could love you again. he thinks he’d be ready this time.

but now, he can only hope he holds a special place in your heart, too. because he thinks that you are his true love, but who knows, because he’s eighteen and he probably doesn’t know much better than he did when he was sixteen and fell in love with you.

–––––

from: princess 🌹💕 what smoothie should i get

to: princess 🌹💕 your favorite berry one, duh buy me one too

from: princess 🌹💕 okay, fly over then

to: princess 🌹💕 bet one day

–––––

to: princess 🌹💕 black suit or blue suit for my sister’s wedding

from: princess 🌹💕 you know i’d usually say black because it matches with everything but blue will pop out so you can look like the most handsome baby at the wedding :*

to: princess 🌹💕 and you’d make the prettiest date

–––––

from: princess 🌹💕  i looked around some london unis at the fair today!!

to: princess 🌹💕  you’re really serious about this huh

from: princess 🌹💕 of course i am, you know me

to: princess 🌹💕 even if our time difference will be even worse if you move to london?

from: princess 🌹💕 you know we’d get through it

to: princess 🌹💕 i’m kidding cutie i know we would

–––––

to: princess 🌹💕

it’s 3am there why are you awake go to sleep baby

from: princess 🌹💕 i haven’t finished my chemistry homework jeno i’m so stressed out right now

to: princess 🌹💕 do you want me to help you?

from: princess 🌹💕  you hate chemistry

to: princess 🌹💕 who said i was gonna help you send the problem and i’ll send it to my friend

from: princess 🌹💕 you’re a lifesaver jeno, i love you

to: princess 🌹💕 anything for you

–––––

from: princess 🌹💕 jeno? hello? please help me it’s 2am and i can’t stop crying i know you’re in class right now but i need you i can’t stop

to: princess 🌹💕 fuck sorry babe i saw your texts but i couldn’t reply are you okay? it’s 4am there now babe?  babe?

[thran-duils]

A United Front

TITLE: A United Front (Rise for Your King P2) PAIRING: READER/AU KING!CASTIEL SUMMARY:  THE READER WAS BETROTHED TO THE PRINCE BUT WHEN A NEIGHBORING KING DECIDES TO DOLE OUT JUSTICE TO YOUR FUTURE FATHER IN LAW, HE DESTROYS THE ROYAL FAMILY, LEAVING YOU WITH THE TWO YOUNGEST PRINCESSES. THE MAGE KING TAKES AN IMMEDIATE LIKING TO YOU, LETTING YOU LIVE. WHAT WILL YOU DO WITH THIS OPPORTUNITY? WORDS: 2,252 

Part 1 || Part 3 || MASTERPOST  || Fanfic masterpost

King Castiel had let you keep your old chambers to your surprise. He didn’t move the twins either. They had begged you to let them come into your chambers. And although you knew they would not be permitted to move into your room, you had let them in the first few nights to sleep in the bed with you.

Word had gotten back to Castiel though.

“I hear Gwyinth and Oriana are sleeping in your chambers with you.” He took a pit of an olive out of his mouth, placing it on his plate before moving his eyes to you.

The two of you were sitting at breakfast, the walls of the room well sprinkled with his soldiers. You were to his left, sitting as if you were the queen. The idea of it made your heart flutter. You had tried to sit at the opposite end of the table but he had ordered you to sit where you were.

“Yes.” When he looked at you expectantly, you explained, “They are still… adjusting. It’s only been four days since they lost their family.”

He chewed on this for a moment. He picked up a piece of cheese and took a small bite. “It can’t go on forever.”

Agreeing, you responded, “I did not expect it to, your majesty.”

“It’s not proper.”

Again, you agreed, “Yes.”

“When do you expect them to not be in your chambers anymore?”

The question caught you off guard. How could you measure grief? Especially one of a child? You struggled to find an answer. “Um… I suppose a month? They are quite young, your majesty.”

Castiel did not look satisfied. “Two weeks.”

Why was he so concerned with this?

He pressed on, “They can have a chamber maid attend to them at night. Possibly have them on a cot if it will make them more comfortable. But even that can’t last forever.”

You said nothing to this. And the conversation hit a lull.

Picking up your fork, you took a bite of your eggs, chewing slowly. The only sounds in the room were the scraping of silverware, goblets, and chewing.

“I plan to have a ball at the end of next week.”

So soon? How could he possibly have things ready in less than two weeks? You knew his wealth was larger than King Orin’s but they had just had a war… you then remembered his powers. And you wanted to slap yourself. He was a mage. He was not mortal. Of course it would be nothing to him to clean up the war he had waged and make the kingdom look gorgeous.

“Do you have something to wear?”

This caught your attention and you stammered, “Um… yes. A few gowns. I have one in red that is similar to this one.”

Castiel was eyeing you up and down before he focused on something else. He didn’t look entirely pleased and you wondered if you had angered him somehow. Or what was more than likely, he was not happy with the way you were dressed. It was one of the fanciest things that you owned. Your cheeks tinged pink.

“We need to present well.”

We?

“It is important to show a united front. The ball will suffice as a union of our two courts. It will keep the kingdoms intact and help bring a settlement to the land in a swifter manner.”

You were the connecting piece, no matter how you liked it. And he was going to use you to his advantage. You wished there was someone else to take your place. You felt your chest tighten thinking about being a head of a court. You weren’t blood related to the princesses but since you had been betrothed and were the oldest, you were stuck. You hadn’t been given time to prepare or practice what he was asking – no ordering – of you.

Hiding your anxiousness, you nodded, “Of course, your majesty. That is the most practical approach. I want nothing more than for there to be peace.”

Castiel’s eyes twinkled a little at your statement and his eyes lingered before he tore them away. “I’m glad we agree, my lady. I think we will make a fine… team.”

You didn’t want to be a team. You wanted to get away from this responsibility.

Yet, you couldn’t help but feel flattered that he wanted you to help him with this. You resumed eating, trying to ignore the looks he kept sneaking at you.

<> <> <>

The day of the big ball to “unite” the two courts, the king had sent you a box. And it looked suspiciously like a dress box. You had been right. He had not liked what you were usually wearing. You couldn’t help but feel a little offended. The dresses had been crafted intricately and with care. They were far better than a lot of women from neighboring kingdoms – not to let your head get too big.

“Place it on the bed, please,” you sighed moving towards the bed. Aideen followed you.

The girls did what you asked and removed the cover off the box. They picked up the dress carefully, lifting it out of the box.

Your eyes widened when the maids presented you with the gift from Castiel. Aideen looked shocked as well. It was a dark midnight blue, adorned with sparkling gems. But, it was so… open. There was a large v-neck slit down the front as well as the back, your back would almost be completely exposed.

“Well,” Aideen finally spoke. “You can’t say their kingdom is used to modesty.”

Shaking your head, you choked out, “I can’t wear that.”

“You must,” Aideen countered firmly, shocking you. She noticed the look on your face and stated, “It would be insolent to not wear it.”

Your throat was dry, staring at the gown in front of you. “Aideen…”

Aideen grasped your arm forcing you to look at her. “Listen to me, Y/N. You’re going to wear it. You’re going to be uncomfortable about it. But, it would do the best for everyone for you to not snub a gift from… the king.” The words seemed to stick in her throat but she forced them out. She lingered a few seconds, her eyes firmly on the dress before she forced herself to look at you. “We must figure out how to do your hair. He obviously wants your back exposed... but I think we could get away with some of your hair down. If that would make you feel more comfortable to have some privacy.”

Nodding, you followed her to your vanity. Aideen began ordering the girls around, who looked half perplexed and half amused. You wanted to slap the ones that looked amused.

<> <> <>

The king’s eyes had lit when he saw you enter the dining hall. You had sat next to him as was expected and made small talk with him. You couldn’t help but to notice his eyes wandering and  you forced yourself to act normal. His lingering eyes lit a flame inside you but again, you felt disgusted feeling anything when he had done nothing to warrant such feelings from you other than be drop dead gorgeous.

Your heart pounded when he asked you to dance with him. It was customary for the king to make an initial dance appearance and it only made sense that he would choose you considering your standing. But, he looked far too happy to take your hand and lead you to the dance floor.

Castiel’s hand moved past your hip, his fingers tracing longer and lower than respectful, before coming to the small of your back. The bare skin there was alit with goosebumps at the feel of his hand and he no doubt noticed, a fleeting smirk playing on his face.

The two of you began the dance, the other dancers giving you plenty of space.

“All eyes are on you,” Castiel informed you quietly as the two of you spun around.

You held back a comment about the lack of clothing. Instead, you complimented him, “I think you are mistaking the attention. I am sure they are taking in their new king and thankful that you have been merciful.”

Castiel’s smile was bright. He was amused with you. “You have been molded quite perfectly, haven’t you?”

He tugged you to him with a jolt, drawing a gasp out of you. You were pressed firmly against his chest and he stared down at you, an emotion you knew too well swimming behind his eyes. You had experienced lewd stares enough to recognize what was going through a man’s head.

“The attention is warranted, my lady,” He told you in hushed tones. You were surprised you could still hear him over the music. You chalked it up to his magical abilities. It was a trick. He continued, “You are dressed in starlight.” Leaning down, his breath was hot on your cheek, “And you should be undressed by starlight.”

That rattled you and you turned pink, averting your eyes. His fingers were caressing you slightly as the dance slowed. Your body was warm, partially from his forward statement but more so, from being this close to him.

When you pulled away from him as the dance ended, Castiel was peering at you intensely, gauging your reaction.

You felt detached, forcing a smile. “Thank you for your compliments, your majesty. It makes the night that much better. And thank you for the dance. It was enjoyable.”

Castiel didn’t let go of you for a few moments and you swallowed, the seconds stretching out. You wouldn’t dare pull away from him. To insult him in that way in front of the entire ballroom.

After what felt like an eternity, he let go of your waist and backed away, bowing to you. You curtsied, perfectly despite how shaky you felt. Your eyes locked with his once more and you turned from him.

There was another few suitors waiting to dance with you but you excused yourself, to their disappointment. You needed water. You needed air.

<> <> <>

“My lady,” Reyvin greeted you, staring off the balcony instead of at you. He had come up quietly beside you and you had turned to acknowledge a presence and were relieved to find a friendly face. He had been Prince Davin’s favorite knight, having learned underneath Reyvin.

“Sir Reyvin.”

Reyvin’s lips curled into a smile and he replied, “It is kind of you to keep up the title, Y/N. But, I doubt I will keep the title now.”

“You have done nothing wrong. I will fight it,” you protested.

Reyvin finally looked at you, a small, sad smile on his face. “I appreciate that. But, there’s no use in putting yourself in any kind of cross fire. It is merely a title, nothing too important.”

“It was a gift to you from the king.”

“It was. But, the honor of being given it in the first place is enough.”

Your hands shook and you had to clasp the balcony as hard as you could to get them to stop. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. How could Reyvin allow his title to be stripped from him without a fight? He had fought for this kingdom on multiple occasions. And counseled the king on many matters.

It was still a shock that Castiel had let him live. But, Reyvin’s reputation must proceed him. Not to mention, he had bowed after fighting. Something Castiel respected. He had slain another knight who had knelt immediately without putting up a fight. He couldn’t expect someone like that to be loyal when they changed allegiances so quickly and without much effort.

Reyvin’s voice broke through your thoughts. “I’ve never seen you wear this before.”

Sighing, you said, “It was a gift. From this king.”

“The king,” Reyvin corrected you quietly.

You relented, “The king.”

Reyvin leaned in closer and you turned your head to look at him. “There are still people who haven’t… bent. And they believe it is not safe for you to stay here. Nor the little ones.”

“Shouldn’t we be talking somewhere more privately?” you responded in hushed tones, making sure to keep your back straight. Any hunching or leaning into each other would look secretive. This looked like a regular conversation.

“Anywhere else is suspicious,” Reyvin answered truthfully. You gave a curt nod and he added quietly, “There are people willing to help you… to get you away.” Your heart jumped hearing this and Reyvin noticed the change in your expression. “It is possible. If you want it.”

Your mind was racing.

“The girls would be terrified.”

“But would you rather have them be raised with you or under the thumb of a king that killed their father?”

Swallowing, you considered this.

“I will not rush you too much, my lady. But, I would encourage you to think quickly. Before the hooks get latched in too tightly to the heart of the kingdom and people start to falter. It would be wise while you still have a good chance of help.”

You said nothing and Reyvin picked up your hand, giving it a light kiss.

“You have a good night, my lady.”

Watching his retreating back, you weighed the pros and cons of leaving in your mind. There was an opportunity to take the girls away and live a different life. But, is that what you wanted? And would it really be any safer?

~~~

CASTIEL TAGS: @prince-halfblood, @splendidcas, @klaineaholic, @letsthedogpackandthecats, @alexastacio, @winchesterforever12 @seirensou  @tacos-and-trenchcoats @the-amaranthine @intheir-dreams @study-me-misha @marisayouass @demonicguardianangel @afanofmanystuffs @holyheadharpies-quidditch-blog @misscherryberry @too-lazy-for-this-world @dragonchantant 

[closetofanxiety]

Show review: THE ULTIMATE THRILL RIDE

Epic clashes on the grandest stage of them all! Surprise returns from beloved figures! Title changes! And VIDEO PACKAGE AFTER VIDEO PACKAGE AFTER VIDEO PACKAGE! Let’s look back at Wrestlemania 33: Orlando Furioso!

Neville def. Austin Aries via pinfall

I didn’t see this match. I missed most of the pre-show, to be honest. I really watched too much wrestling over the long weekend. I went for a walk instead, actually three separate walks on Sunday. It’s the first nice day we’ve had all year here in southern New England, and I took full advantage of it. I mean, it fucking snowed on Friday and Saturday. So, anyway, Neville won. The cruiserweight division is full of talented men with almost zero connection to the audience. It’s only a matter of time before there’s another Swoggle winning the title and it gets retired again. There will be a lot of blame to hand out then, but I’ll blame Vince. It’s usually a safe bet.

Mojo Rawley wins the Andre the Giant Memorial Battle Royal

Rawley joins Cesaro, Big Show, and Baron Corbin in the winners’ circle of this particular honor, although unlike them, he needed an assist from New England Patriots tight end and human game of beer pong Rob Gronkowski in order to win. I missed almost all of this, because after my third walk of the day I went to Starbucks. You have to give yourself little gifts. It helps keep you normal. That’s my advice, although why anyone would take life advice from me is a mystery. I mean, I’m not living in a refrigerator carton or anything, but I’m exactly the kind of person who might as well not exist at all. Much like this battle royal, in fact, crowded as it was with wrestlers for whom no storyline or narrative currently exists: Sami Zayn and Dolph Ziggler tossed in among lower-midcard-for-lifers like Curtis Axel and Epico. What a fate. What a bleak way to further the preshow, which is really just “the show” when you think about it. 

Dean Ambrose (c) defeats Baron Corbin via pinfall to retain the WWE Intercontinental Championship

I did watch this perfectly serviceable matchup that wouldn’t have looked out of place in the first hour of a fair-to-middling Smackdown episode. The Intercontinental Championship is almost an insult at this point. The WWE giving you this belt is like your boss putting you on a performance improvement plan at work. It’s to “enhance your capabilities” but it’s like a dunce cap. This was defended on the pre-show, on free TV: the USA Network broadcast it before the start of Wrestlemania proper. Honestly, Epico had a less humiliating day. Rating: Two Ultimate Thrill Rides.

AJ Styles defeats Shane McMahon via pinfall

This was a pretty good match, I guess, although the thing I liked best was the ref bump: AJ Styles really looked like he kicked Mike Chioda square in the fucking head. That was beautiful. Occasionally you’ll see a ref bump where the official basically gets lightly jostled and then pretends to be out cold for two minutes, but this was a ref bump you could put your full faith and credit in. Good ref bump. Anyway, a good match. I saw people online saying “Match of the Year,” which I guess is indicative of the environment of Plaudit Inflation in which we’re currently living. This will almost certainly be the best match of the year to feature Shane McMahon. But I’m tired of the McMahon family in general, and sick of seeing them on TV. AJ Styles should have been in the main event, not the curtain-jerker. Still. At least they haven’t put the Intercontinental Championship on him yet. Kiss of death. Rating: Three Ultimate Thrill Rides.

Kevin Owens defeats Chris Jericho (c) by pinfall to win the United States Championship

A solid match here, although it lacked the raw emotion of Owens’ best matches, and the extra spark of brutality you’d expect from a match that was ostensibly the culmination of a bitter falling out between two “best friends.” This story was all about the buildup, with the blowoff leaving a little something to be desired. A fine match, though, perfectly acceptable as a Raw main event. If that’s damning with faint praise, it’s because I expect a lot from these guys, who are two of the very best. This was better than Jericho’s lackluster match with AJ Styles at last year’s Wrestlemania. Faint praise again, I guess. Rating: Two and a half Ultimate Thrill Rides.

Fatal Four-Way Elimination Match: Bayley (c) defeats Nia Jax, Charlotte Flair, and Sasha Banks to retain the Raw Women’s Championship

They got rid of Nia early, which was crucial. Nia can’t do very much inside a wrestling ring. From that point, the big expectation was for Sasha Banks to turn heel and betray her weird hug-prone friend Bayley, a possibility they had been advancing on commentary for weeks, but it didn’t happen. Instead, Charlotte pinned Sasha, somewhat unexpectedly, sucking the air out of the arena. Bayley won with a flying elbow from the top rope in tribute to Macho Man. I buy that Sasha was a huge Eddie Guerrero fan as a kid, but Bayley’s supposed childhood love of Randy Savage is puzzling to me. She was born in 1989, how much Macho Madness was there really from the mid-1990s onward? Were there a lot of kids in like the year 2000 saying “I want to be just like ‘Macho Man’ Randy Savage”? Maybe there were. I was not a kid by then, so I didn’t spend a lot of time talking to kids about their favorite wrestlers. But when I was a kid I liked Savage a lot. I seem to have wandered from this match, which had its moments but was kind of lackluster. Rating: Two Ultimate Thrill Rides.

Fatal Four-Way Ladders Match: The Hardy Boys defeat The Club (c), Enzo Amore & Big Cass, and Sheamus and Cesaro to win the Raw Tag Team Championships

Big surprise return from Team Extreme! Listen, I’m never going to adopt the WWE spelling convention that insists we identify them as the Hardy “Boyz.” First of all, the mid-1990s are over. Second of all, they are grizzled middle-aged men. It was fun to see them back. Genuine pop from everyone watching at my house. I’m not sure how much of the “Broken” gimmick they’re going to be able to do; Kevin Dunn hurriedly cut the cameras away from Matt as he was doing the “delete” thing, but that could be standard Kevin Dunn incompetence. Anyway, this match was fun, with a truly insane Jeff Hardy Swanton Bomb from the top of the ladder capping it off. Astonishing to think they had a ladder match for the Ring of Honor tag team belts just the night before this. Them North Carolina boys are tough, I’ll tell you what. I have gripes and grimaces to share about this kind of thing overall, but for now it’s fun to see these dudes back in the WWE for the first time since 2009. And I’m relieved Enzo and Cass didn’t win the titles. God, I am tired of them. Rating: Three and a half Ultimate Thrill Rides. 

John Cena and Nikki Bella defeat the Miz and Maryse via pinfall

This was a weirdly lowkey match, most of it focused on the Miz working over Cena with brawling-type offense, until the Queen of Strong Style Nikki Bella got the hot tag AND CLEANED FUCKING HOUSE, hitting a sick tope suicida on the Miz and whaling on Maryse. Maryse basically did nothing in this match. Mike Chioda took more bumps than Maryse during Wrestlemania. Anyway, the real winners of this match were you and I, because we got to see John Cena propose to Nikki Bella (he used her real name, EXPOSING THE BUSINESS!!!) in the ring. Cena actually sounded like a human being during this segment; it was very sweet and came across well. Some people booed. You’re going to boo love, my friends? If so, for what will you cheer? Rating: Three Ultimate Thrill Rides for the match, Seven Ultimate Thrill Rides for the proposal.

Non-Sanctioned Match: Seth Rollins defeats Triple H via pinfall

I love a good non-sanctioned match. What a weird holdover term from the territory days. What body are we to believe “sanctions” matches, and is it different from the body that permits a “non-sanctioned” match to be televised to a worldwide audience? This was also very old school in terms of the match itself, which was focused almost entirely on Seth Rollins’ ailing knee. The crowd was very quiet for this perhaps, despite the insistence of Jim Cornette et al, people don’t really want to watch old-school wrestling matches in 2017. It was OK, but it felt very slow. Rollins won, which was the right decision. Stephanie got knocked through a table, prompting the biggest pop of the match. The best part for me was Triple H’s hilarious entrance, where he came down the ramp AS A BAD-ASS BIKER ON HIS BAD-ASS THREE-WHEELED MOTORCYCLE surrounded by indie wrestlers dressed as highway patrolmen, also riding motorcycles. One of the great visual flourishes of the territory days was the spectacle of the hated villain being led to the ring by a phalanx of stone-faced Southern cops protecting the wrestler from enraged fans, a scene that sent the unmistakable message This Is For Real (even though it was obviously not), one of those sweaty, smoky aspects of wrestling that’s lost forever. Triple H, weirdly sentimental about wrestling history, tried to revive that aura of county civic center danger, and it came across like a campy musical version of “CHIPs.” I loved it. Rating: Two and a half Ultimate Thrill Rides. 

Randy Orton defeats Bray Wyatt (c) via pinfall to win the WWE Championship

I had been pretty excited for this match, but it felt weirdly truncated, with a truly abrupt finish. They were running long (the goddamn show ended at midnight) so maybe these guys were told to keep it short. One thing that kept happening is that every time Bray would do his Exorcist bend-over-backwards thing, the lights would dim and images of giant worms, maggots, and cockroaches would appear on the ring canvas, apparently because Bray was possessed by his late sister, Abigail. “He’s channeling the full power of Sister Abigail now!” JBL yelled, referring to an imaginary ghost. Even the power of an imaginary ghost was not enough to prevent Randy Orton from hitting his finisher “out of nowhere,” but actually out of somewhere: out of the midst of a rushed, unsatisfying match. Rating: Two Ultimate Thrill Rides.

Brock Lesnar defeats Goldberg (c) via pinfall to win the Universal Championship

This was a fucking blast. I was a total skeptic coming into this, but they did it just right: five minutes of these two big boys pulling out the crowd-pleasingest parts of their arsenals, German suplay after German suplay after German suplay from Brock, verses spear upon spear from Big Bill. It was like watching two rhinoceroses collide on the savanna and fight over rights to a watering hole. Magnificent and brutal. Big Bill threw himself around that ring with abandon, including maybe the best “Oops I missed the spear now I’m hitting the ring post” spot I’ve ever seen on a WWE show. Good for Big Bill. Good for Bork, who is now the indifferent holder of a championship belt. This was fun. I have not liked much of the Goldberg stuff, but this was fun. Rating: Four Ultimate Thrill Rides.

Naomi defeats Alexa Bliss (c), Carmella w/James Ellsworth, Becky Lynch, Mickie James, and Natalya to win the Smackdown Women’s Championship

This was in the Death Spot between the Bork-Bill showdown and the main event, and the crowd was not overly hyped. There was also an abortive Pittbull concert at some point. Maybe prior to Bork-Bill? Anyway, this match was kind of a cluster, with a lot of disconnected action and a vibe of being made up on the fly. My favorite part was when Becky Lynch - sporting truly abominable dreadlocks for some reason - hit Ellsworth with an exploder suplex. The rest was meh. Mickie James had #Problematic ring gear, unless she’s Native American (she may be). Alexa Bliss was good in her role as despicable brat-fetish heel. Naomi, the hometown girl, won via submission. Rating: Two Ultimate Thrill Rides. 

Main Event: Roman Reigns defeats the Undertaker via pinfall

Maybe the best part of this match is that they brought Jim Ross down to do commentary on it, indicating it was almost certainly the last Undertaker match. The match itself was about as good as it was going to be: Roman is a really good wrestler, but the Undertaker is 52 years old and long past the point of keeping up in a wrestling ring. He tried hard. Lots of kickouts of finishers, etc. The drama felt forced, honestly, as did the whole buildup, like at some point in February they just decided they were going to have the Undertaker fight Reigns and then even later said, “Hey, this is it for ol’ Taker.” After he lost, Taker took an extended curtain call, which was nice. I have never been a fan of the Undertaker as a performer, but his popularity and contributions are undeniable. Rating: Two Ultimate Thrill Rides.

[lynoakley766948-blog]

Review The Relationship Oversight Through Jennifer Probst Free.

Fredrick and Patricia McKissack, as a crew, have actually composed more than FIFTY publications for youthful visitors, consisting of photo manuals, starting audiences, information manuals and biographies. Most seriously, while Project Cars possesses amazing graphics, beautifully-modelled cars and trucks, encouraging weather condition as well as a wonderful tyre-wear and harm simulation, that still experiences somewhat tough around the sides. Mercedes proclaims its concentrate on security with the brand-new E300, so that does have automated emergency braking (AEB), which immediately tries to cease the automobile if it recognizes an impending accident along with a vehicle or even pedestrian. Nuances apart, the Q60 is actually the first automobile to have Nissan's brand-new 3.0-liter double super V6 derived from the Nissan Sky line's motor. Other than Apple's iUber are going to possess glossy electrical vehicles as well as higher degrees of uniformity in the motorist (software program). 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While I had not been directly advised to get unnecessary repairs, the manager's breakdown to encourage me from the dangers on a long travel after an evaluation from my outdated automobile led me to obtain unneeded fixings to have the vacation, which resulted in my car's failure. If you have any questions relating to exactly where and how to use http://wheelife.info, you can make contact with us at our own internet site. Folks get cars and trucks to drive them - if you reduce the romance of going to the steering wheel then you may also use Uber.