#its a cruel choice but it was made w good intentions

[constantvariations]

I really wish Larian had done more to emphasize the differences between devils and tieflings so Wyll’s transformation would land better. Which I get would be difficult seeing as how tieflings are descended from devils, but when the biggest visual difference are the wings and you deny Wyll that feature, you can't be surprised when players mistake him for a tiefling and misconstrue his grievances at the grove party

His stats don't even change all that much, just some fancy darkvision, and it's not like his soul being dragged through literal hell altered his personality in any way. A lot of what makes him a devil is apparently just ~vibes~ and they are not passing their persuasion checks

[blackjackkent]

OK, time for a very small nice thing for Rakha to counteract all the Horrors.

"*sniff*"

Narrator: The dog seems wary, sniffing you intently.

Offer your hand to the dog to sniff, being careful not to spook it.

Narrator: The dog sniffs your hand and seems more at ease.

"*Bark!*"

-----

Wyll watches Rakha with the dog, a slight smile touching his lips. And Jaheira watches Wyll, and frowns sympathetically.

"I can only imagine it is a trying time to love her," she says gently, in a voice low enough to reach only his ears.

Wyll stiffens. His eyes don't move from Rakha, but Jaheira can see the way he turns his body. It's an unconscious motion, protective, ready to step between Jaheira and Rakha if the need should arise. "Are you suggesting I ought not to?" he says carefully.

Jaheira smiles a little to herself. She could have expected this response. He's a good man, the Ravengard boy - the sort of stout support Rakha will need in the times to come. Caden had Aerie, and it made all the difference in some of his lowest moments.

And Wyll is not so far out of the way from Aerie, really. Both of them torn from their homes by terrible circumstance, mutilated by the cruelty of uncaring masters, and yet full of warmth in spite of it all. Both of them tossed into the way of a Bhaalspawn in whom they found light and love and hope in spite of the darkness. It's a comforting parallel.

And yet... Jaheira has to admit Wyll's path is strewn with far more rocks than Aerie's was. Caden carried Bhaal's taint, but he never slipped so far into the dark as Rakha has. There is an animal ferocity in Rakha that Caden never had, a beast that strains far more strongly at its leash.

"Hardly," she says. "Indeed, I am very glad you do. I only mean that it is not easy to love one so marked by fate."

Wyll hesitates. She can see his loyalty warring with his honesty.

She smiles faintly. "You need not confide in me unless you wish," she says. "Certainly this is only an old woman's meddling."

"No, it's--" He frowns, looks away for a moment - checks to see that Lae'zel and Minthara are not listening, that Rakha is still distracted by the pup. "I hate it," he admits, so low that even Jaheira can barely hear him. "I hate what it does to her. I look at her now... that little smile she gets on her face, that moment of gentleness. All the questions, the moments when she wants to learn, to do the right thing, to understand everything. The music. The magic - the beauty she sees in it, the things she tells me about..." He swallows. "That's the woman I love, and I'd do anything for her. But there's something else there that's not her at all, and it frightens me so terribly."

He trails off, looking down at his boots. "It isn't fair."

"No," she agrees quietly. "No, it most certainly is not. And it is a cruel truth, in my experience, that such unfair business lands all too often on the shoulders of those who deserve it least."

He fidgets uneasily with the hilt of the rapier on his hip. "If what she says is true... she did terrible things, back before she lost her memory. Am I simply a fool, to think that isn't her? That I can love her in spite of that, that she's someone different now?"

"Only you can answer that for yourself." Jaheira studies his expression thoughtfully for a moment. "But if you want my opinion - no. It does not make you foolish, but brave." A pause. "I have cared for many, in the past, who knew their share of darkness. And I am no fool. The foolishness would be in believing she has no choice to change."

He relaxes visibly and his eyes brighten at the reassurance. "Yes," he says. A slight pause. "Your friend... Gorion's Ward..."

"Caden," she says. Her lips twitch. "The legends speak of him always with such grandiose titles..."

He laughs softly. "Caden, then. Did he... frighten you, ever?"

She is quiet a long moment before answering. "At times. There were moments when I knew he struggled with things I could not see. And it frightened me to know that in the end it was his journey, and I could do nothing but stand at his side and see him through."

Wyll nods. "I would take the burden from her, if I could," he says.

"I know you would." She claps him gently on the shoulder. "And it is for that reason that I am glad you cannot. Do not tear yourself apart trying to lay an easy path that does not exist. She will need you, whole-minded and strong, for what is to come."

He draws a slow breath, and she can hear a slight tremble in the exhale. Ye gods, boy, you are so terribly young to face such trials, she thinks bitterly. I never knew love that did not have its touch of pain, but you have earned something bearing a less sharp edge.

But I am familiar with the sense, by now, of standing on history's cusp. Had she not had your guidance, I think Rakha would have a great deal more blood on her hands. And I think, perhaps, one day the strength of your heart will be seen to have saved the world.

"Thank you," he says softly.

She nods. "I am here when you need me," she answers. "And you will - of that I am certain. We have, all of us, a very long road ahead."

[urlocallesbiabs-reblog-sideblog]

(tags via @penny-anna + my replies)

#dont agree w all of this just on like a headcanon level

#but yeah no its so weird

#its just?? framed so weirdly??

ah, i probably have misunderstood/extrapolated wrong. (still, you're fun to disagree/have a discussion with! i like your posts in general, and your questions here in particular :3) if you're asking "what the hell were grant naylor thinking", then my personal answer is much simpler: i have no fucking idea. this show is WEIRD, it has no factual NOR emotional continuity, it does whatever the fuck ever and the only thing left for me to do is Desperately Cope. there are ways to bend it into a good tragedy, there are weird things to be criticised and cut out to make it into a comedy that isn't quite so much whiplash-worthy, and there's always the "close your eyes and don't think about it" strategy that i suppose most of the og casual audience employed. but yeah, it is a Viscerally Weird goddamn show, i'm fully with you on this one

#like conceptually im into it

#and i have sympathy for the OG ace tbph

#do you think this was his intention

#how do u think he'd feel about those thousands upon thousands of dead rimmers

#i can't imagine that when he chose another rimmer to be his successor that he thought it would come to this

i'll be honest, this makes me reconsider some of my word choices i didn't pay close enough attention to. to me "ace rimmer the actual human guy from an actual parallel universe" and "ace rimmer the legacy, the role, the expectation" are two different things (can't believe i forgot about that, when in an au of mine they're explicitly translated into two separate characters) — and usually when reading or talking about ace rimmer, i automatically understand/mean that as The Legacy, and rarely stop to think abut The Guy. i don't really hate the guy! actually i think him as the first victim to the legacy. it got him, the expectation to be strong, to be heroic, to sacrifice his life (which he did); and then it got many others. i think no rimmer is capable of sustainably being ace, not even the og one, which is proven by him dying fairly young. as for the question how would he feel about the graveyard ring — it's a tough one for me! i don't think he's cruel, i don't think he wanted quite that many human deaths, that's the baseline. but i just haven't thought about him enough to be able to form an opinion on whether he hated himself enough to think that thousands of deaths of other versions of him were an acceptable sacrifice for the wellbeing of spacetime continuum. it certainly wasn't his plan, though — i don't take him for an evil mastermind, just a rimmer for whom the desperation for attention and acceptance at some point outweighed his fear. like, i don't actually think there's a version of rimmer that's unmarred by trauma and suffering: for our rimmer, self-care has corrupted into awful cowardice, and for ace rimmer the guy, heroism is a not-so-healthy attempt to earn affection from others. all poor sods, the bunch of thems, at least according to my personal headcanons

#anyway. extra weird bcos in the emohawk episode (which im not actually a fan of) #rimmer-as-ace's drive to sacrifice himself to save the crew was treated (correctly) as u know. Bad

#not to start taking the space comedy show too seriously but how many rimmers do u think died unnecessary deaths bcos their first instinct #was to die to save other people

#anyway!!!!!!

"how many rimmers do u think died unnecessary deaths" — MANY!!! so many it's scary!! that's what the ace-as-legacy thing is about for me — rimmer's unnecessary sacrifice of life!

"not to start taking rd too seriously" — unfortunately i have made a hobby of choosing to engage with this clusterfuck of a show as if it was an earnest sci-fi tragedy, because i needed to wrap my head around it Somehow, and it does propose some truly *fascinating* concepts (just never explores them) (well and Also it has hilarious jokes, there's where the half of my enjoyment comes from, but those i cannot write pretentious analysis posts about it, and i love making pretentious posts)

i had fun writing out all that, ty :3

red dwarf is a very very silly show n its best not to take anything that happens in it seriously like at all. that said the framing on the whole rimmer becomes ace rimmer subplot is genuinely bizarre??

[just-a-creep-babe]

Kinktober Day 28

Habit: Knife Play & Spitting

Quick warning: a knife goes in the reader’s mouth and also in. the. COOCHIE in this one so be warned skdjdksksjdlslfj

Also there’s some slight dubcon & cutting, though it’s not self-harm

~Requests are closed~

Masterlist: x

Any tips are greatly appreciated!

You know you shouldn’t look at the table

He’s made it abundantly clear from the very beginning that it‘s off limits

But being confined to the small space of the house is taking its toll on you, and you‘ve become, admittedly, atrociously bored

So as you steadily make your way closer to the round table filled with his amassed collection of weapons, you savor the shiver of fear and delight at the prospect of something new, something exciting

Something that can easily land you in big trouble, but the threat of it all only adds to the thrill of the rush

Gazing over the sharp tools, one in particular catches your eye—a sturdy knife with jagged teeth at the end of a thick blade

You don’t let yourself linger on the thought of how many things people got caught on it’s sharp edge

The hilt is relatively long and thick, looking like it would fit comfortably in Habit’s hands, with an end that rounds out, and though it does have a few engravings along its ribbed spine, it’s relatively smooth and minimalistic

Elegant, yet simple

You didn’t approach with the intention of actually touching his beloved weapons

But you just can’t seem to help reaching out and taking it in your hand

The weight feels nice, comfortable even, though it is a little too large

You tilt the angle and watch as a glimmer of light bounces from the cold hard steel

“What’ve you got there, rabbit?”

The sound has your pulse missing a beat

You nearly drop the knife but manage to whirl around and hide it behind your back instead

Your grip tightens around it, muscles scared stiff

“H-habit! I, uh, I thought you were out”

He tilts his head

And with one long, even stride towards you, he’s suddenly inches from your form

You instinctively step back, but you’re forced still when your back meets the edge of he table

“I was out”

A cruel smirk plays on his lips, knowing fully well he’s caught you red handed

“But you haven’t answer my question,” he continues, “Show me what you have”

He folds his strong arms over his chest and you know you’re screwed

Reluctantly, you bring the blade up

Calloused fingers briefly brush against yours as he takes the hilt from your grasp, and it sends a hot spike of fear and adrenaline down your system

His dark gaze lingers on you for a bit, flickering briefly to your lips, or maybe you just imagine that, before landing on the weapon

He takes his time inspecting it, like he’s watching for any smear or fingerprint you might’ve left on its polished steel

“You like this knife, (y/n)?”

He doesn’t phrase it like a question

When you don’t immediately answer, his stare pierces through you, stealing the breath from your lungs

“I… uhm”

You try to think of a way to get out of this, uncertain if a yes or no is more likely to get you killed

But as he brings the jagged edge to your throat, pushing it into your skin, you grip the ledge behind you and squeak out a pathetic “yes” in response

The corners of his mouth tilt into an amused grin, though his eyes remain as dark and dangerous as ever

Relief washes over you when he finally pulls the blade from your throat

“On the couch. And don’t fucking make me say it twice”

He steps back, finally giving you room to move, and you’ve no choice but to do as he orders

His gaze burns into your back as you do

Your heart pumps wildly in your chest as he follows suit, predator following cornered prey

As you scramble on, you inadvertently try to shrink yourself back against the couch’s armrest, pulling your legs up close to your chest

He chuckles like he has you right where he wants you

And then he’s getting on as well, tugging your ankles to straighten your legs out so he can straddle them, trapping you beneath him for good

The warm weight of him has inexplicable shivers running down your back

He‘s shameless as he leans in and presses the tip of the knife to your collarbone

“You know not to touch what’s on the table, don’t you, rabbit?”

You nod, inhaling sharply as he slowly drags the blade down, not hard enough to cut deep, but just enough to leave a faint, thin scratch against your skin

“So you disobeyed on purpose?” he rumbles, head tilting in question

You swallow thickly, knowing this answer could determine what he does to you—and whether or not you’ll make it to see morning

“N-no”

A sharp cut just below your collarbone has you yelping

You can already feel the warm tingle of skin puffing up as the blood beads to the surface

“You wanna try answering that again?”

He sets the knife just below the cut, a silent promise

“Yes—yes, I-I did it on purpose”

At this response, he hums, content

He leans in unbearably close and presses the flat of his tongue to the cut, and it immediately has your entire body coming to life beneath him, much to your embarrassment

He slowly laps up the faint drips of scarlet with his tongue, the thick pad dragging up your skin, before wrapping his lips around the wound and lightly suckling at your flesh

You try to stay still beneath him, but the urge to squirm and buck your hips is nearly maddening

“That’s what I thought,” he purrs, his voice taking on that split quality, “You should know not to try to lie to me by now, little bunny~”

He brings the knife lower down, the sharp edges hitching on your clothes before the material ever so slowly begins to give way

You swallow back a gasp as the air hits your exposed skin

And then he presses the flat of the blade to your nipples, watching them rouse beneath the cold metal with a dark hunger in his eyes

He licks his lips and you really wish you could feel his mouth on you again, but he holds back

Arousal coils and tightens in your gut, body tense with anticipation as he drags the blade even further

He uses it to pop open the button of your pants and then in one swift motion, he’s tugging them down the expanse of your thighs and below your knees until you’re kicking them off your feet

“I can’t let you get away with disobeying. You know that, don’t you?”

You give a meek nod as he inspects you up and down, taking in the sight of your form before zeroing in on the last piece of cloth covering your sex

His hand cups your mound, feeling you up, taking in the way the muscles in your lower abdomen clench every time he brushes his thumb over your clit

“Open that pretty little mouth of yours”

You don’t need to be told twice, though you’ve no idea what he‘s planning and it’s absolutely terrifying

He flips the knife in his hold like second nature, grasping it loosely by the blade to press the hilt between your lips

You whine as the foreign shape and texture of the handle presses down on your tongue

“Wrap your lips around it, bunny”

With the way he’s looking at you, focusing all his attention on your mouth, you’ve no choice but to obey

It feels big and clunky and out of place, but you still do your best to move around it, even as he slowly pumps it in and out of your inviting opening

You give it an experimental lick, suckling it faintly and toying with it between your lips

But before you know it, he’s pulling it out, still holding it by the blade, and then he’s nudging it between your legs, making what sounds like a faint hum or a husky purr

“H-habit, I—“

You cut yourself off with a gasp as he nudge your panties to the side and grazes your folds with the spit-covered handle of the knife

You squirm at the feeling, legs instinctively about to close shut, but he quickly grasps your ankle with his free hand before they can, shooting you a warning glare

“You gonna take your punishment like a good girl, (y/n)?”

Your face flushes

What choice do you really have?

With a tentative nod, you whisper a meek little “yes” and it has him grinning widely

“Then keep your legs open for me,” he commands, nearly snarling beneath his breath

You let him coat the hilt in the slick puddling between your legs

Every time he slides it up to your clit, you have to force yourself not to buck up or move and squirm too much

He circles the rounded end around your entrance, and you hate the way it has you clenching around nothing in anticipation

You squeeze your eyes shut and dig your fingers into the cushions below you, your muscles seizing and heart pounding in your chest

Much to your surprise, he takes it slow and easy, giving you plenty of time to adjust to the new sensation as he breaches through

It feels hard and solid and has your walls pulsing around it, struggling to take it all in while aching for more to hit deeper

“There we go—that’s not so bad, is it?” he purrs

You bite back a whimper as he slowly pumps the knife in and out of your drenched silk walls

Every time he pushes it in, the hilt drags along your spongy nerve endings and your hips buckle up, quiet mewls and whimpers falling from your parted lips

He grabs your jaw, fingers squishing into your cheeks, and yanks you up closer so your faces are inches apart

“Don’t enjoy your punishment too much, little rabbit~”

Squirm and whimper as you might, you’re helpless to stop him as he digs his fingers into your cheeks and forces your mouth to pop open

Your eyes screw shut with a desperate sound as he spits into your mouth and yanks your jaw shut so you’ve no choice but to swallow

You struggle in his grasp, utterly trapped beneath him, trying to quell the gasps and moans and whines threatening to bubble from your throat

And then in one hard thrust with little to no warning, he slams the hilt into you and you’re helpless to keep quiet

Your back arches as you moan loudly, euphoria seizing every nerve of your body as your muscles tighten so wonderfully

He hits something deep and marvelously addictive inside of you and you need more

With a cruel chuckle, he slams the hilt into you over and over again, soaking up and savoring the way your body shudders with every brutal impact of pure ecstasy

You’re so, so close to cuming, your peak tingling in your body, leaving you a pathetic moaning mess beneath him

“Gonna cum so soon, bunny?” he coos mockingly

You can’t even find it in you to answer coherently, your peak looming over you and threatening to take command of your body

And just as your muscles are about to cease in that familiar rush of building ecstasy, he pulls away, leaving you painfully empty and without any stimulus to cum 

“H-habit—“

Your hips buckle uselessly, trying to chase a high that won’t come

“You didn’t think I’d let you off that easily after disobeying, did you?”

He brings the knife up for both of you to watch your slick glisten off the handle

And then he brings his mouth to it and licks it in one long stripe of the flat of his tongue

You feel your face heat up and squirm, looking away, when the edge of the cool blade is pressed to your throat

Panic seizes your veins

“Look at me”

Your gaze darts back to meet him as he presses it harder into your neck

“Say ahh~”

You let your tongue out of your mouth, lips parting open, a faint “ah” sound emitting from your throat

You can still taste yourself in his saliva as he spits into your mouth again, and you quickly swallow with a gasp as he presses a shallow cut to your collarbone

“Don’t fool yourself into thinking your punishment’s over just yet, little bunny. We have the whole night ahead of us~”

[croctus]

4 for mr clawhammer, mr grimshaw, and miss mobius?

YO HI THANKS FOR THE ASK!!!

this is a fun one, ill get detailed w/ it

4. What is their relationship with their parents? What’s a good and bad memory with them? Did they know both parents?

CLAWHAMMER-

his relationship with his parents was... STRAINED, to say the least. and a lot of his baggage and emotional issues can probably be fairly easily traced to things he's stuck with because of them.

his father was, of course, the former Captain Clawhammer, south district born and raised, and a very very successful supervillain. his intentions were always to teach his son to be as strong, resilient, driven, and ruthless as himself at whatever the cost. he scorned any degree of emotional vulnerability or mercy

nael REALLY admired him, to a fault, and to this day mostly internalizes his more cruel/cold traits and choices as a father- such as waking him up in the middle of the night to spar or intentionally putting him in very dangerous situations.

his MOTHER meanwhile is entirely unlike this. she's a native of north district, and her culture has always been very high-society and appearance focused. although she much more pushes for open communication and emotional intelligence, any degree of 'messy emotions are highly frowned upon.

she's very against clawhammer's villainy- not necessarily for the fact that it puts her son in danger, but that its terribly low-brow and brutal work. she considers him much too smart for such nonsense!

although she's still very much alive, she's long since divorced herself of the whole operation, and has not much made the effort to reach out to her orphaned kid who now lives alone in a large industrial penthouse. go figure.

GRIMSHAW-

funny enough, despite grim being a cold, calculating, kind of eerie scientist, his folks are both very loving and supportive people. in fact, they inspired a degree of the design he made for his prosthetic legs! (being, a highly successful ballerina and a famous sculptor)

he stopped living with them around age 12, at which point they were doing all they could to provide medical care and disability assistance to their shy little boy, but once he went to study at Marunoko and begin his career and skyrocketed to fame as a medical prodigy, he did not speak to them again until he was already 19!

these days, he acts somewhat distant and professional around them, but makes a reserved effort to keep them in his life.

they are... a bit concerned for his health, but ecstatic for his career success.

MOBIUS-

so mob was raised by a single father and never much knew any other parental figure. he was sort of ditzy and often absent, but a very loving and kind person- an archeologist specializing in the pre-war world! sadly though this meant working long, long hours. mob sort of had to learn how to help in taking care of bills and food for them both at a young age, however they never took much issue with it.

mob actually enrolled in the nanobot program that would eventually make them a supersoldier/superhero due to the financial support itd provide their dad, and that it would allow him to live comfortably.

ironically these days, theyre the one who works long hours, and they rarely see much of him anymore

[ddarker-dreams]

Home. Yan!Shigaraki x Reader [COMM]

Japan brings with it a plethora of memories.

Memories ranging from the highest of your life to the lowest. Times that you can recall with a special fondness, reserved in your heart for the rest of your life. But always balanced out with numerous hurts, times that you wish you could erase from your mind. All of it remains a mixed bag within you, serving only to befuddle your true feelings further as you get off the plane. 

Going through customs felt surreal, the bustle of the airport one that struck you with a sense of  nostalgia. The people, the scents, the sights -- it all left you with a weary heart, but you had already expected to feel this way. Returning wasn’t an easy decision, the dividing thought leaving you with numerous restless nights.

But ultimately, your choice has been made. With suitcases in hand, you look down towards your phone. Traveling always sounds nice in theory, but jet lag and exhaustion were taking you hostage. Still, it won’t do to get tired now; you still need to make it to your new apartment after all.

‘If I could survive that long flight in economy class, I can last through one more Uber drive.’

Blurry images of the airport scenery go by, the music in the car all but tuned out by your chaotic thoughts. It all reminds you of how you left in such a hurry in the first place, in the dead of night. How conflicted you were then -- constantly doubting your decision and wondering if you should just turn back.

But turning back to Shigaraki at the time didn’t feel like a viable option. 

You don’t think of it as running away from your problems. Even if that’s what it may sound like, you tried all you reasonably could do. From countless heart to heart discussions, to tearful phone calls. All of it fell on deaf ears, or worse, served to irritate him. Neither of you would back down from your given positions, despite the care you shared for one another. The care that led you to overlook your own morals for a time being. 

Shigaraki was always someone who was firmly planted in his ways, and didn’t care for having his morals challenged. Though he was considerably more tolerable towards your verbal opposition than anyone else would even have the opportunity to attempt, it didn’t mean he’d change his mind in the end. 

So you left. It’s bizarre to believe that eight months have already passed since then, eight months of your life being vastly different than before. Even when you weren’t in Japan, you would still hear news reports of the League of Villain's activities. Every time a headline popped up of what was happening, it made your stomach drop. 

His hold over you didn’t feel as less constricting as you had originally hoped it would. Even if he was no longer physically with you during those times, you could still almost imagine his presence by your side. His mannerisms, what he would say to you if he was there. The nightmare never ended, it only got worse as the days went on. Shigaraki would never stop haunting you.

Which leads to where you are now. Having left the car with a quiet thank you, staring up at your new apartment building. Getting your keys from the main office, you desire nothing more than for this to be a positive beginning in your life. If leaving Japan didn’t help you feel any better, it only made sense for you to come back. There’s no place like home, after all. 

But you’ll still be living your life on the down low. It’s unnerving, since the League never stayed in one area for long. If you knew where they were hiding now, you would gladly put as much distance between yourself and them as possible. But given the nature of Shigaraki’s vision, they were always on the move. 

Turning your keys until you hear a click, your last burst of energy goes into opening the door. Inside showcased an apartment devoid of furniture, but still your new home nonetheless. With a deep sigh, you tug your heavy luggage through the door frame. 

‘I’ll at least need to unpack some things before I can sleep…’

Briskly walking to the sink, you splash cold water onto your face in a desperate attempt to stay awake. Your new mattress won’t be delivered until tomorrow, so sleeping on the floor is all you can do for the time being. Shaking your head at the thought, you sluggishly get to work.

Grabbing your favorite blanket and pillow, you lazily throw it where your bed will soon take its place. Everything else can wait for tomorrow, it’s not like you’ll have any company to entertain. With the sun already having set thirty minutes ago, you close your blinds and gratefully lay down. 

Even if it’s on the floor, it feels like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders to finally relax.

It doesn’t take long for sleep to find you, all of your pent up emotions and nonstop thinking having sapped all your energy. All you can hope for, as your heavy eyelids flutter shut, is that tomorrow will be the fresh start that you have longed for.

---

“Mnh…” 

Rubbing your eyes, you almost panic for a moment at your new surroundings. Before recalling all that had occurred, and that this place is your home now. 

‘What time is it…?’

Blindly groping around your pillow for your phone, your eyes squint in pain at the bright screen. Displaying that it’s only 11:25 PM, and that you only had been asleep for a few hours. The effects of sleeping on the floor make themselves known, your back aching at the lack of proper support. 

Grimacing at the throbbing discomfort, you put your phone down before sitting up with a yawn. With intention to get up and soothe your dry throat with a drink, you never get the chance before a voice pierces through the dark.

“All that running sure must’ve been exhausting.”

Jumping at the sound of a lower voice in your pitch black room, your eyes rapidly dart around for the possible source. Breathing growing unsteady, you feel your lips tremble at the thought of a stranger in your apartment. Would your quirk be useful enough in fending them off? 

Hugging your knees against your chest in a reflexive response, your mind scrambles to come up with a plan. 

Reaching to grab your phone out of desperation, you finally let out a weak response. “W-who’s there? I’ll call the police!”

“Like that’d do any good.” The voice responds in a mocking lilt. Like a sudden wave crashing over you, you’re finally able to discern through your fatigued state who this is. You feel as if you’re being dragged beneath the waves, the air all but smacked from your lungs.

‘That’s--!’

Footsteps approach you slowly, methodically. You feel frozen, incapable of even forming a coherent thought. As the person gets closer, you realize you need to run. But before you can even get the opportunity, you feel a foreboding weight around your shoulders.

And four fingers tapping against your bare skin.

“Did you forget about me, [First]?” 

You know that voice all too well. The fact that even sleep managed to dull your guess of who it was is astonishing, but no longer do you feel uncertain of who it is. Goosebumps line your exposed skin, the sound of your own shaky breathing filling the otherwise silent room.

“Sh-Shigaraki…?” 

“So you didn’t,” he responds with a low, humorless snicker. Tightening his grip around you, you can feel his hair tickling your face. “I’m glad I don’t have to remind you of that, at least.” 

Swallowing thickly, you feel tears prickling the edge of your eyes. There are too many overwhelming things on your mind, too many questions without answers and silent pleads. It all feels too suffocating, air becoming a luxury that you miss. In the moment, all you can will yourself to do is choke out your next words. 

“How,” you exhale shakily, mind screaming your tongue drier than sandpaper. “How did you find me?” 

For a brief moment, you feel his coarse fingers cease their previous drumming movements. In a motion that could only be described as flinching, Shigaraki quickly recovers himself while answering your question with a malicious bite. 

“After all this time, that’s what you want to say to me?” Shigaraki growls out towards you, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut. You desperately wish that none of this is real, that the cruel events unfolding before your very eyes are all but a dream. 

From all the time that you had spent with Shigaraki, you had grown accustomed to his mannerisms. Being able to pick up on every little nuance of his words, to what every twitch of his muscles meant. But now, you feel incapable of doing just that. Is it bitterness hidden in his words? Disappointment, frustration? Something tells you that it’s all of that, and more. 

“Whatever. I’ll humor you with the answer. Imagine my surprise, I get a phone call from Toga. I was barely able to understand her at first, her voice was so frantic and excited,” Shigaraki pauses for a moment, recalling the prior events. “Eventually, she manages to explain that ‘big sis [First]’ is back. And well… here we are.” 

At first you didn’t pick up on it, but there’s a slight tremble in Shigaraki’s voice. You realize now how difficult he’s trying to hold himself together, feeling his body shaking against your own. Each of his words come out more forced than the last, almost as if a lump was forming in his throat. 

Unable to conjure up a response fast enough, you hear Shigaraki’s labored breathing growing more unsteady.

“Well? Say something! Don’t just sit there.” 

All false impressions of control start to slip through his fingers, true emotions no longer being able to hide. Cracks beneath the surface reveal to you just how much pain he is in, the mere thought enough to tug on your own battered heartstrings even more. You open your mouth, wondering if there’s anything you can say to diffuse the situation. 

He clings to you tighter.

“Shigaraki… I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you sniffle, small sobs unable to be suppressed any longer. His muscles tense at the sound of you crying, a battle within ensuing. “I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t take the violence, t-the constant living in fear! I don’t know, I don’t know…” 

Much to your surprise, a rough hand wipes away the tears leaving your dampened eyes. Jaw agape, you feel deft fingers working hard to dry your skin. You remember long ago how he told you once that he hated seeing you cry, that it made him unsure of what to do.

Hiccuping, you feel your lip tremble at your next question. “Are you going to kill me too now?” 

“I don’t know, probably not. Just… just stop crying already.”

Shaking your head, you know the waterworks won’t be stopping anytime soon. Now it was your turn to take Shigaraki by surprise, stuffing your head against his chest to muffle your own cries. He subconsciously moves his fingers to make sure they don’t all touch you at once, and you feel how tense he becomes at your unexpected touch.

Eventually, he places a tentative few digits against your back, awkwardly attempting to soothe you. It all brings you to the pinnacle of your emotions, unable to hold back your full fledged sobs any longer. Gripping onto the fabric of his hoodie, you take in his familiar scent. Shigaraki begins gnawing on his lip, having not expected his confrontation to go like this. 

He eventually returns your serpent tight hug, placing his head into the crook of your neck.

“Don’t think you’re getting off easy,” Shigaraki finally grumbles against your skin, his own emotions too unsteady to even understand. “I’m not ever letting you out of my sight again.”

[darkdevasofdestruction]

My Green Signal Samurai Girlfriend ~ Miles Edgeworth/Mitsurugi Reiji

(( This GIF was called WAIFU and this cracks me up so much- ))

(( Also, this is going to be part of a 2 parts series, the other one, a Sequel, being called My Green Signal Samurai Fiancee, that I’ll hopefully write...And finish soon enough~! Edgey deserves some love ~ <3 ))

“Ehhhh?! Sis, you never told me you were friends with Nick!! How come?! When?!” Maya jumped up an down in shock, her big, sparkly eyes boring into her elder sister’s amused eyes. “Really? Phoenix never bothered to mention me? At all? Nix, I’m hurt, what about this?!” the elder girl mocked being hurt and taking out the Green Signal Samurai keychain. “What’s with that thing and why do you all seem to have it?” she asked again, admiring it closely. “A-Ahhh...W-Well, I’m sorry, Y/N, I guess it didn’t cross my mind that Maya didn’t know about our friendship. We’ve been friends since we were little, in school. Larry and Miles have one too, it’s a symbol of our friendship. Y/N had green, I had blue, Larry yellow and Miles red.” Phoenix explained, taking out the keychain from his drawer. “You keep it hidden away in a drawer, while I’ve had it attached to my keys since then. You truly are cruel, Nix!” she laughed, ruffling his spiky hair. “How did you become friends anyway? You 4 are so different...It sounds so weird!” Maya asks again, sitting on the opposite arm rest of the sofa her sister was on, while Phoenix sat in the middle, a nostalgic smile on his face. “Well, you see...It all started one day...” and so, Nix began narrating the story of the 4 Signal Samurais.

It was a normal school day like any other, with Miles studying, Y/N doodling and passing notes with Larry, who fell asleep mid-class, and Phoenix who looked cluelessly at the blackboard, since math was never his subject, so he had to ask the girl for help all the time.

That day, however, Phoenix wasn’t feeling well, so he skipped P.E., preferring to do some homework in class, which is when he found an envelope that was supposed to have money in it...But it was empty.

As he was holding the envelope, looking at it curiously, realising that the owner must be missing it, the door suddenly got opened, and a girly gasp was heard, which created chaos among all the other kids coming in.

Phoenix Wright was accused of being a thief.

The teacher made everyone get in a half-circle around him, making them point their fingers accusatory at him, saying ‘THIEF!’, while the teacher was watching with an almost satisfied expression on her face, seeing the kid cry, not being able to defend himself.

“Tell the truth, Phoenix.” she’d say, not even caring to hear his end of the story. “But I didn’t do it!” he tried to say, which made the teacher sigh and shake her head. “Now, Phoenix, apologise to Miles.” she said again, which made one of the girls that leaned on the wall, away from the commotion, get out of the shadows, standing in a defending T-pose in front of her friend. “THAT’S ENOUGH! If Nix said he didn’t do it, then he didn’t do it! Look at him, he’s a whiny cry-baby, do you really think he’s capable of thievery?! You should all be ashamed of you for being such bullies! SHAME ON YOU!” she screamed at everyone, even the teacher, not caring about any repercussion. “OBJECTION!” a loud and stern voice boomed from behind them, just as Larry was about to get up. “Miles...!” the girl’s eyes widened in shock and appreciation as she saw the boy point at the wave of kids with a determined and firm expression on his face. “Edgeworth...?” Phoenix’s bottom lip quivered as he clenched the back of the girl’s Tshirt, watching the boy shine. “It’s as Fey said. It wasn’t you who stole my money, was it?” Miles asked, as the boy was merely able to nod. “Then hold your head high. Everyone’s been shouting that you did it, but no one has any proof.” he continued, looking sure of himself. “Wh-What are you saying?!” one of the boys asked in confusion. “It was your money that was stolen.” another girl pointed out. “We don’t need proof.” a new boy shrugged uncaringly. “In a court of law, evidence tells all.” Miles slammed his hands on a desk, as if he was a true lawyer, like his dad. “Before you have the pretension to hold a class trial, at least realise that!” he scolded everyone. “Yeah, knock it of already! He said he didn’t do it!” Larry stepped on the desk, yelling at the others. “Larry...!” Phoenix looked at the chestnut haired boy with shock. “This is always how it is, everybody ganging up picking on one person. Aren’t you guys ashamed of yourselves?” Larry continued defending his friend. “The defendant has pled not guilty. Without evidence to prove his guilt...Your Honor, this boy is innocent! I rest my case. This trial is over. Court is adjourned!” Miles ended this whole charade, and the teacher could only agree and dismiss the class.

Phoenix ran after Miles, and Larry ran after them, which made Y/N rush to get to them as well, grinning at how cool that was, as the brunet boy thanked all of them.

“Always help the ones in need! That’s the Signal Samurai’s signal motto.” Larry said walking ahead, holding a bag of dog food in his arms. “Oh, you like Signal Samurai too?! I watch it every week!” Phoenix gasped in glee. “I’m totally Yellow!” Larry grinned, turning around to look at the others. “And I’m Blue!” Nix counted in. “Good choice, that guy is sharp!” Larry praised his choice. “Oh, oh, can I be Green?! Pretty please?!” the girl smiled timidly, clasping her hands together. “Ah, yes, of course! That gal is so cool!” Larry nodded his head vigorously. “Ultimate Move: Sally Forth!” Nix got the Blue Samurai’s pose. “What about you, Miles?” the girl asked the boy who seemed so confused. “Why are you three getting worked up? You aren’t kids.” the boy in cause rolled his eyes, as if he was an adult. “But we are kids!” Phoenix grinned at him.

Then, Miles asked about the dog and why Larry had dog food on him, and as soon as the girl looked down, she started squealing and picked up the puppy, cuddling and nuzzling her face in its extra fluffy fur, as the pup started licking her face.

As soon as it was done with licking her face, it started looking intently at Miles, struggling a bit to get the boy to pet it. That’s when they found out that Larry found the pup in an adoption carton box, which pissed off the girl big time.

But then...They realised that nobody could keep it, so they started looking for the owner, and thankfully, Miles was smart enough to deduce the place from the almost erased address on the cardboard box.

During the walk there, the dog kept trying to get Miles to acknowledge its presence, as the boy only did the Hansel and Gretel trick, but with dog treats instead...

And every time to puppy would make a cute sound, the girl would squeal at how adorable it was, hugging it more.

“Like I said, I’ve never seen this dog before.” the woman from apartment 2202 said. “Really? Because he’s so happy to see you!” the girl gave her a suspicious look. “Look, we don’t care anymore.” the woman scoffed in annoyance. “Abandoning small animals is a crime. If you’re reported, not only will you be investigated, you may also be fined.” Miles spoke in an almost business-like tone. “Oh? Let’s see you try! I’ll pay as much as it takes!” the woman yelled at them, scaring Miles. “So you have the money to pay for fines, but not for taking care of a small dog? Why did you even get it in the first place, huh? How can you be so cruel and abandon a living being who loves you more than it loves itself?! Are you sure you even have a heart at all, you stone cold heartless bitch?!” the got in the woman’s face, yelling at her loudly. “Who do you think you are?! A little snotty brat, threatening an adult?!” the woman glared down at Y/N. “Don’t you feel any ounce of sadness or pity for him?! Would you throw your own child on the streets when you get bored of him too?!” the girl refuted instantly. “Sh-Shut up already! G-Give it a rest, or I’ll call the cops!” the woman started stuttering, realising how much of a jerk she was. “Forget it! This dog deserves better! It deserves a place where people genuinely love him and show him affection, not this...This! Not you! You don’t deserve any kind of love for being so cruel!” the girl had tears welling up in her eyes, as she picked up the dog and rushed away from there, not wanting to let those tears spill.

As soon as she got down from the building, walking in the park, she quickly wiped her tears with the sleeve of her dress and hugged the dog, kissing his head and nose.

“You were so cool, Y/N!” Larry praised the girl, who only looked down. “I just...Can’t stand injustice against animals who can’t speak or defend themselves...” she muttered softly. “All right, but didn’t you say you couldn’t keep that animal?” Miles asked in curiosity. “...That’s right. I’ll...I’ll...I’ll try to buy him food...And I’ll make a little bed for him from my old clothes...And I’ll try to train him to stay in front of the house so I can take care of him....” she spoke, not even once raising her head to meet their eyes. “Then I shall take him. You can come help me raise him, if you want. I shall ask my father.” he spoke nonchalantly. “R-Really?! You’re the best, Miles! Promise I’ll come every day to help!” the girl threw her arms around the boy, the dog in between them, licking his face, as he couldn’t help but blush like crazy. “You’re so cool, Miles!” Phoenix grinned at him. “You’re kind of a bro, Edgey!” Larry fist pumped the air. “D-Don’t be so ridiculous! And y-you’re too close! ...Let’s just go home.” he started walking ahead of everyone, revealing the trick he made as the dog started following the treats, and when they got to the crossroads, everyone convinced the red clothed boy to watch Signal Samurai.

Of course, his dad was incredibly understanding, no matter how stiff he appeared, and thus, blossomed a beautiful friendship that would last for ages in their hearts...

- - -

“EHHHHH?! Nick, you can’t be serious! Y/N sounds much too excitable than now!! Are you sure we’re talking about the same person?!” Maya gasped, shaking Phoenix by his shoulders. “H-Hey, Maya, I was a kid too, you know?” her elder sister sweat dropped. “At least we know Larry didn’t change too much, huh?” Nix chuckled in amusement as he turned on the TV...

And saw that Miles Edgeworth was accused of murder.

Fantastic.

The girl gasped and rushed out of the place before anyone could even blink, and go to the Detention Center, asking to see Miles in the Visitor’s room.

“You’re the last person I was expecting to see.” he said, not daring to look at the woman in front of him. “What in the world happened, Miley? I know you are not a murderer...So...Please tell me the truth.” she finally managed to take a deep breath and sit down in the chair opposite of him, on the other end of the glass. “Don’t call me that, we’re not 9 anymore.” he scoffed, a faint blush of embarrassment on his face. “The blush on your face says otherwise. Besides...You will always be my dear Miley, no matter what you say.” she smiled softly at him. “Give it a rest. I have no way of getting out of it, even though I didn’t do it. There’s too much evidence that points against me.” he shook his head, crossing his arms and leaning back on the chair. “That doesn’t mean that you did it! Justice always prevails, Miles Edgeworth! Don’t think that I or Nix are going to let you be taken away from us again!” the girl smirked in a cruel and dead-set determination. “What does Wright have to do with anything?” Miles tried to ask, but the door was slammed open, revealing the person in cause, along with the woman’s younger sister. “I’ve never seen you run so fast, Y/N.” Nix panted, catching his breath. “I only run like that when in danger or when responsibilities are chasing me.” she giggled in amusement. “What are you doing here?” Miles asked with a condescending voice. “Edgeworth, tell us what happened.” Phoenix demanded in a strict voice. “What are you going to do about it?” he shot back. “Let me defend you.” the lawyer said, but the prosecutor chuckled in mock amusement. “Defend me? You? Don’t be ridiculous. You’re a novice who’s only been in 3 trials. Yes, you’ve got lucky and won all 3, but your luck’s bound to run out some day. You need real skill. Experience. And regardless, I don’t want either of you involved in this. Leave.” Miles got up to leave, which made the woman shot up from her chair, making it fall from the sudden burst. “Are you crazy, Miles Edgeworth?! You think that after all this time, I’m going to allow you to walk away from me...From us...Again? Let us help you for once, damn it! You’re not alone in this world!” the h/c woman slammed her hands on the table in front of her, making the man stop dead in his tracks, not saying anything. “Let me just ask you one thing, Edgeworth. You didn’t do it, right? Right?” Phoenix asked again, but Miles only hung his head. “Stay out of this case.” he muttered, before leaving completely. “...I’m gonna kill this guy. I’ll go investigate some place...And I’ll try to get him to accept your defense. See you later.” the woman’s voice was dry, almost deadpan, which confused her younger sister. “Why is Y/N so upset over this thing with Edgeworth? Isn’t he a total jerk?” she asked, which made Nix look down with a small smile. “Miles Edgeworth and Y/N Fey hold a...Much stronger bond than we ever did, and I’ll leave it at that. Let’s go investigate too, Maya.” he explained, leaving the girl more confused than ever.

There were many places to investigate in just a few mere hours, but when they were done, they all returned to the same place, yet this time, Phoenix and Maya got there faster than Y/N.

“Hmmm....? Phoenix, don’t try to steal Miley from me.” she tried to stifle her laugh with her hand. “Wh-What?! N-No, Y/N, this is not-” Nix’s eyes widened with panic, as Edgey could only look away with a soft blush. “So, on a grim note, if Phoenix is here, I’m sure this means he realised this relates to the DL-6 incident, huh? Did you get over the details, Miles?” she asked, leaning on Phoenix, who was sitting. “You’re incurable, Y/N Fey, but you’re not wrong, of course. That night, Hammond asked to see me for the first time in 15 years. He said he had something to tell me about the case. We set out by boat, but before he told me anything, I heard gunfire, and the next thing I knew, I was alone on the boat.” Miles explained what happened. “Any clue who shot?” she asked, paying attention to every word. “No, I didn’t see anyone. I picked up the pistol without thinking...I really...Don’t want you involved in this case. It’s my problem and mine alone.” Miles looked down again, making the woman tsk in annoyance. “Yours and yours alone? First of all, what about my mother, Misty Fey, who disappeared after people started threatening her and calling her a fraud? I’m sure that I and Maya deserve to know the truth behind the DL-6 incident. And...Honestly, Miles? I said it once, and I’m going to say it again, for the last time. I’m not letting you face your problems alone anymore.” she glared down at him with fire in her eyes. “It’s exactly as my sister said...No matter how painful it is, we have to know the truth! And not only that, but Y/N, Nick and Gumtree believe in you from the bottom of their hearts! So please, place your faith in us, too! Let Nick defend you and let Y/N support you!” Maya raised her voice to get Miles to accept. “Very well. It pains me to ask this now, but...Would you please defend me?” he asked, almost embarrassed. “Say no more. We were going to defend you, even if you didn’t accept.” Y/N shrugged with an obvious smirk on her face. “You can count on us!” Nix smiled at his friend. “Who could have guessed this day would come?” Miles closed his eyes in disdain. “This is my chance to finally repay you." Nix spoke with enthusiasm. “Repay me...?” Edgey blinked in confusion. “Never mind. It’s okay if you’ve forgotten.” Nix shook his head dismissively. “This is going to be an uphill battle.” Miles warns them. “Yes, I know-” Nix tries to agree, but is quickly cut off. “No, you don’t. You don’t know how terrifying the God of prosecutors, Manfred von Karma, is.” Miles says, making all of them gasp in disbelief. “Karma’s going against you?!” Y/N bit her lip in worry. “In his 40 year career, he has not lost a single case. He is truly a miracle prosecutor. Manfred von Karma...A frightening man who will do anything and everything it takes to win.” Miles muttered, his voice holding a tint of worry. “...And we have the Miracle of Christmas on our side. And the Four Signal Samurais. Not even Hurricane Karma can go against us.” Y/N scoffed condescendingly, making the man in cause chuckle softly. “Hurricane Y/N, rather.” Edgeworth chuckled softly, barely audible, making the girl grin widely. “That’s the Miley I know and love!” Y/N almost seemed to be glowing with determination and fire.

The next day, they had to walk to the courtroom, and everyone seemed nervous...Anxious for the trial to come.

“Manfred von Karma is 10 times as vicious as I.” Miles gave Phoenix a heads up, and he seemed to gulp. “They say that the biggest threat in the world is a scorned woman. Karma won’t know what hit him.” she smirked, flipping her long hair back. “Don’t take him lightly, Y/N.” the silver haired man gave her a warning look.

But before she could reply, they noticed Karma waiting in the middle of the corridor, no doubt waiting for them, just so he could shame his adoptive son.

Giving the elderly man the stink eye, before taking Edgeworth by the arm and guiding him to the court room, not before giving his hand a reassuring squeeze and winking at him.

                            December 26, 10 AM                     District Court - Courtroom No. 3

Prosecutor: Manfred von Karma

“Court is now in session.” the judge hit his hammer to make everyone silent. “The defense is ready, Your Honour.” Phoenix spoke out, loud and clear. “Is the prosecution ready?” the judge asked Karma, but he sketched no gesture.  “Uhh...Prosecutor Karma?” the judge pressed on, only for the lawyer to snap his finger and point one of them towards us, the defense, with a patronosing look on his face. “Fool! You seriously think I would stand here, were I not completely prepared?” Karma snapped his head. “R-Right, my apologies!” the judge hid his face behind the hammer. “What a pushover!” the Fey sisters, along with Phoenix, were jaw-dropped at how stupid the judge is.

And so, Karma called the first witness to stand before us and testify.

Witness: District Police - Detective Dick Gumshoe

“This is a map of Gourd Lake, the crime scene. At 12:10 AM, a woman heard a gunshot and looked at the lake, where she saw 2 men on a boat. The next instant, another gunshot rang out, and one of the men fell into the lake. The night of the murder, the lake was covered by fog-” the detective explained in detail, until he was rudely interrupted by the prosecutor. “That’s enough! Next, testify to the court about your arrest.” Karma ordered the policeman. “Actually, I’m the one who’s supposed to handle these proceedings...” the judge tried to say, but was once again stopped by the jerk. “Wrong. There is only one thing you need to do here. You will slam down your gravel and say the world “Guilty”.” he pointed towards the judge, who once again, hid behind his judge hammer. “Don’t get too hasty, throwing such accusations, unless the trial is over! You’re going to influence the jury and the judge!” Y/N yelled accusatory at the prosecutor, who only smirked at her in victory. “The police got a call after 12:30 AM and arrived at the scene 5 minutes later and apprehended Mr. Edgeworth, whom they found nearby.” GumDick explained further. “Did they find anything at the time?” Karma asked professionally. “Yes, sir. The pistol thought to be the murder weapon...” the detective said, looking a bit unsure. “Were there any fingerprints on it?” Karma pressed the policeman, until it was confirmed that Miles’s fingerprints were on the gun. “The next morning, a man’s body was found in the lake. Estimated time of death was around midnight. He was shot once through the heart...Fatally.” Gumtree continued his testimony.

After that, Karma brought forth the bullet and had the detective confirm it was the matching bullet...

Only to have Nix stupidly asked again what “ballistic markings” means, which made both Fey sisters and the detective fall to the ground at the idiotic question.

Then, we found out that Mr. Hammond summoned Edgeworth to the scene...And since Miles refused to explain why he was summoned...

Karma used all the evidence provided so far to use them to proclaim Miles as the culprit...

And called the next witness, who heard the gunfire, and he asked her to describe what she saw on the night of the murder.

Witness: Self-Proclaimed Journalist - Lotta Hart

“It was Christmas Eve, just after midnight, I reckon. I was asleep in my tent, when I heard this bang comin’ from the lake. I looked toward the lake and faintly saw two gents in the fog. Then, there was another bang.” Lotta explained in a very dramatic way. “She happened to take a photo of the moment.” Karma snapped his fingers, showing a picture of tho people standing in a boat. “It was the victim and the defendant on the boat, ergo, it couldn’t have been anyone but Miles Edgeworth who fired! There we have it, this trial is over.” Karma pointed accusatory towards Phoenix, making him hit his back on the wood wall behind him. “OBJECTION! That picture is clearly much too foggy to be certain that one of the person is surely Miles, while the other is surely the victim! You can’t give a verdict so soon! The defense hasn’t even cross-examined your statement!” the girl glared, slamming her hands on the table in front of her. “Very well. You may ask one, and only one, question.” Karma scoffed condescendingly. “You have no right to asses limits to our question limits!” she refuted immediately. “If it changes nothing, we will proceed to the verdict.” the prosecutor smirked at us. “The judge gas already found the prosecution’s evidence decisive. We have no choice but to accept his terms.” Miles frowned, closing his eyes, accepting his fate. “To hell with that, Miles Edgeworth! I’m not leaving this place until we’ve declared you innocent! Karma, we accept your conditions. Phoenix, I’m sure you realised the plot hole in Lotta’s testimony!” the girl spoke with such a strong sense of justice that it made Miles snap his eyes open, looking at her in awe. “Plot hole...? Hmm....Hmmmmm....Ah! Yes, you’re right, Y/N! Ms. Hart, when you heard the second...” Nix began, making the woman continue. “There was a loud bang, and then another.” she turned around, throwing her arms in the air. “Did you clearly see the boat or the two men?” Nix asked, making the girl sweat drop awkwardly. “J-Just look at the photo. Clear enough for you?” she tried to defend her testimony. “I wasn’t asking about the photo, I was asking if you saw-” Phoenix corrected her, only to be interrupted by Karma, which in turn made the judge end the cross-examination. “Then give your verdict, judge!” Karma smirked in victory, only for the woman to yell at him. “OBJECTION! Lotta, your testimony isn’t 100% true as you claim it is. I clearly said before, but it seems nobody wants to listen, being prejudiced against Miles Edgeworth. The fog makes the photograph unclear, so nobody can be certain who the two people actually are. In addition, you refuse to elaborate whether you saw the two man or not, which makes me believe you didn’t, which is why you’re trying to evade this question. Tell us the truth, Lotta Hart! This is a matter of life or death! We are talking about the innocence of a man here, this is not just some game or a silly journalistic sensation you put in a newspaper! It’s the life and future of a person!” Y/N L/N had tears welling up in her eyes, her heart hurting so much, that she was afraid it would burst...Miles Edgeworth...Miley...He didn’t deserve something so cruel. “Why’re you makin’ me out to be the bad guy?! I-I saw him! I clearly saw Edgeworth!” Lotta stuttered, pointing towards Miles, who couldn’t keep his eyes away from the woman defending him so fiercely. “Judge! Declare the defense in contempt of court.” Karma pointed towards the defending table. “Escord Mr. Wright out of the court-” the judge cleared his throat, making the woman sigh and hang her head. “Wait! I was the one who made the outburst and spoke out of line. Phoenix Wright did nothing improper. It should be me taken out of here, not him. I’m not a lawyer, I’m a doctor, and I act on emotions and try to bring justice and save the people I care about. If you want to give a punishment, I’ll take it, but Phoenix Wright is innocent...However, did you hear what Lotta Hart said? She said she clearly saw Miles Edgeworth. THAT was not in the testimony!” the woman pointed towards the witness, only to make the prosecutor growl in irritation, obviously feeling called out. “Judge, throw this woman out of the court!” Karma accused her, making several policemen burst in and escort Y/N outside of the place. “I have faith in you, Phoenix! Save Miles, I know you and Maya can do it!” were her last words before being thrown out of the courtroom.

Miles couldn’t even concentrate on his own case - His eyes were fixated on the door, the very door through which Y/N was dragged out, just because she had too much fire wanting to defend him.

His thoughts...Y/N...Why would she go through so much trouble just for him? 

She was never one to want to stand out or embarrass herself...She was always a shy and cute kid, not wanting to bother anyone...

And yet, this is just as before, when she defended Phoenix.

It was then and only then...And that time with the puppy...That he ever saw her so angry, so thirsty for justice...

She was always passive when it came to anyone else but the people around her.

No, it wasn’t the people around her...

It was the people dear to her.

There weren’t many - It was only him, Phoenix, Larry and any animal on this world.

She truly had a heart of gold...

And cared for him endlessly.

More than he ever deserved.

Y/N L/N was Miles Edgeworth’s angel, his light in the darkness, the one being that would remind him of his humanity...

And he didn’t deserve her in the least.

That is not to say, however, that he wouldn’t bail her out of the courtroom jail...After all, her intentions were purely addressed to him.

Miles truly accrued an unpayable, infinite debt towards this girl.

He couldn’t understand why was she chasing after him, a mere shadow, so much, almost as if clinging to dear life.

She’s not after his money, power or glory...

So what is she seeking so dearly?

What does he hold that she needs so much?

Of course...Miles Edgeworth knew...He wasn’t stupid and nor was he blind...

But he didn’t deserve her, and she doesn’t deserve all the hurt he put her through, nor the one that he could potentially bestow upon her by merely being around her.

For the rest of the day, Phoenix, Maya and Y/N went to the lake to investigate, and the things they found out were to be taken into account...

Especially the parrot reminding the old man about the DL-6 incident...

---

Witness - ???

The witness was kinda sleeping - Is he narcoleptic?!

Karma brought him here...Why, they wondered? It’s a great mystery...

The witness, the old man, allegedly doesn’t remember his name, nor anything beyond the last few years...And yet, he runs a noodle shop and rents boats by the lake.

The woman could only wonder how the parrot is going to come into the equation and if the old man was truly as amnesiac as he claims to be.

“It was the night of the 24th, just after midnight, ayup. I was lying down in my room when I heard a loud bang. When I ooked out of the window, I saw a boat just a’floating on the lake, then I heard another bang. A while later, the boat returned to shore, and a man walked by my window. That’s about all I saw.” the witness explained everything he saw. “Defense, you may begin your cross-examination.” the judge expressed. “Are you sure you heard the gunshots after midnight?” the man had to be awakened, just to throw a semi-certain answer. “But when I spoke to you yesterday, you said you didn’t remember. How are you so sure about it now?” Nix asked, needing clarity. “I remembered it while talking to the prosecutor.” the witness declared nonchalantly. “Wouldn’t that mean Mr. Von Karma manipulated your testimony?” Nix asked, raising an eyebrow. “Objection! That is a baseless accusation, kid.” Karma growled at him. “Then, I’ll change my question.” Nix nodded in understanding. “From the lake, when I heard a bang, I looked out the window and saw the shape of a boat. And then I heard another bang.” the witness explained again. “It was the sound of gunfire, correct?” Karma asked, which the witness confirmed. “Who was in the boat at the time?” Nix asked, and after some amnesiac-idiocy from the old man, he answered properly. “Well, it was pretty far away and it was all covered in fog.” the old man stated, making Nix ask the fated question...But the answer was surprising. “Later, someone passed by the window of the boat shack?” Karma asked, making the old man claim it was the murderer...Miles. He saw Miles.

As soon as he mentioned Miles’s name, he fell asleep...And on the floor.

Y/N slapped her hand to her mouth in desperation, trying to clear her head to think properly. She knew Miles wasn’t a killer, so what was she missing?!

“The testimony just now is decisive evidence that prove the defendant’s guilt-” the judge was about to pass the verdict, only for Phoenix to jump in. “Wait a second! We already proved that my client didn’t fire that gun! The murderer fired with his left hand, but the fingerprints on the gun were from the defendant’s right hand!” Phoenix objected the statement. “That’s easy to explain! He could have worn gloves during the act and carelessly left his prints on it later.That is probably what happened. Everything is crystal clear now. The defendant is guilty! In a court of law, the evidence tells all! Haven’t you realised that, you damned amateur?! Judge, I demand you declare the verdict!” Karma pointed towards the judge. “Therefore, I shall pass the verdict towards Mr. Miles Edgeworth.”

                                       G U I L T Y

What?

Guilty?

Are you kidding?

This judge is such a moronic pushover...!

But just as Y/N was about to throw another rage fit, The Yellow Signal Samurai, Larry, jumped from the jury seats to stay by his friends’ side.

“That’s right! You were there on the night of the murder!” Y/N gaped at her stupid friend. “Yeeees! The murder occurred on Christmas Eve, right? I was there, and I heard it. I heard the gunshot. The old man’s testimony didn’t quite sit right with me, so I can���t just sit here and let you call Edgey a murderer.” Larry spoke loud and clear. “The verdict has been decided already. I call for adjournment.” Karma frowned, seeing his plans being ruined, and the judge on their side. “This is it, Nick! Larry’s given us one final chance at this!” Maya tried to cheer Phoenix up. “Your Honour, if there is another witness, it is our duty to hear him speak!” Nix spoke out. “In all court proceedings, it is our duty to prevent an inaccurate verdict, therefore, we must examine every piece of evidence and listen to each witness! I withdraw my previous verdict of GUILTY! Now, testify to the court about what you saw on the night of the murder.” the judge hit the gravel to let Larry speak. “Finally, some sense to this trial.” Y/N muttered, stealing a glance at The Red Signal Samurai from the corner of her eyes.

“That night, I was in a boat out on the lake, I was looking for the Steel Samurai.” this made the judge confused, making Nix explain what happened with the mascot. “So I went, uh, looking for it. I finally found it and returned the boat at the dock. That’s when I heard this BANG. Naturally, I looked out over the lake, but I didn’t see a boat. After that, I dragged the Steel Samurai back to the stall.” was Larry’s testimony, which let the defense begin the cross-examination. “When did you hear the noise?” Phoenix asked his friend. “Oh, it was around 11:00 PM when I went out in the boat and I was out searching for about an hour. I guess I heard the gunshot at around midnight.” Larry answered, which made Karma avert his attention to them. “That matches the other witness testimonies. This is pointless.” Karma flicked his fingers towards Larry, making him fall to the ground, silent. “But when he heard the shot, there wasn’t a boat with the victim and the defendant on the lake. Isn’t that right, Larry?” Phoenix asked, making Maya speak out. “Besides, you only heard one shot, right?” she asked, making Larry agree again. “Two witnesses have already testified that they heard 2 gunshots. This man’s testimony is hogwash!” but before Larry could yell at him, Karma flicked him again effortlessly. “Larry, you sure you only heard one shot that night?” but a little friendly feud came between them, making Y/N slam her head on the table in exasperation on their antics. “I’m not sure...You know I always listen to the radio at night! Headphones on, I was listening to Auralia’s Midnight Lovey-Dovey Rendez-vous! Hey, it’s almost Christmas! All you lone wolves, your aural lover, Auralia, wishes you a Merry Christmas!” Larry spoke enthusiastically. “Wait, so that was barely before Midnight, but everyone else mentioned hearing 2 gunshots AFTER midnight. That means there was a total of 3 gunshots that night?!” Y/N’s head shot up in realisation. “When this picture was taken, it was 12:10 AM on December 25th.” the judge nodded. “That means the other photograph that Lotta Hart’s camera took, it was the first gunshot that Larry heard! Sure, there is nothing but fog and water depicted, but look at the time on the back. December 24th, 11:50 PM. This confirms Larry’s testimony!” Y/N smirked, knowing they had the upper hand, for once. “Mr. Butz heard it 20 minutes before the other witnesses Ms. Hart’s camera too the other picture at 12:10Am...That means Y/N’s deduction is correct, 3 shots were fired that night. One at 11:50 PM and Two at 12:10 AM.” Phoenix explained in further detail for the judge and jury. “Oh, please, that man probably sneezed and triggered the camera.” Karma accused Larry. “Yeah, a sneeze as loud as a gunshot, huh?” Y/N rolled her eyes in disgust. “I did not!...But I did yawn and fart.” Larry admitted, making the woman facepalm. “Regardless, this evidence isn’t enough to overturn the verdict. End these proceedings at once!” Karma yelled at the judge, only for him to ask the defense if they have any objections. “Miles Edgeworth is innocent and this whole case was meant to frame him and throw him in jail. Everything is much clearer now...Phoenix, explain the case, you are his official lawyer. Be The Blue Signal Samurai you’re supposed to be.” Y/N crossed her arms, leaning on the wood wall behind her, listening to the story. “10 minutes after midnight, gunshots were heard from the boat on the lake. One shot. And another. And then, the victim fell into the lake, leaving the defendant, Miles Edgeworth, alone on the boat.” Phoenix explained the beginning. “The victim was shot from a meter or so away. Only the defendant could have done it!” Karma defended his case. “But what if that wasn’t the time the victim was shot?” Y/N butted in. “What if the shot that actually took Hammond’s life was the one from 11:50 PM, that Larry Butz heard?” she continued in a cheeky tone. “Don’t be stupid! This photo doesn’t even show a boat on a lake!” Karma shouted accusatory. “Yes, that means Hammond was murdered somewhere else.” Phoenix explained. “Which means the two people from the boat were Miles Edgeworth and the actual culprit who framed him, who faked being the victim and then jumped in the lake!” Y/N explained, making everyone gasp and talk between themselves. “Framed? Explain!” the judge hit the gravel, making everyone silent. “After the murderer killed Hammon at 11:50 PM, he wore his coat and assumed his guise to meet the defendant whom he’d summoned to the lake beforehand. The two of them set out on a boat...And then, the murderer fired 2 shots on the boat. The first was to make anyone near the lake to look at the boat. He probably fired into the water. Once he grabbed their attention, he fired the second shot. Due to the fog, anyone looking at a distance wouldn’t be able to tell who’d fired. That means the shooter wasn’t Miles Edgeworth, but the real murderer, disguised as the victim!” Phoenix explain in great detail everything that happened. “It’s just as I stated previously. The murderer pretended to be shot and jumped into the lake. To someone watching from the shore, it would appear that a murder had taken place before them. They would think they saw Miles Edgeworth who’d been left on the boat, murder the man with him. The murderer then swam back to the shore, put the coat on the corpse and threw it into the lake. It was all done to frame Miles Edgeworth for murder!” Y/N spoke confidently and loud, being clearly heard by everyone.

Miles could only look at her dazzling smirk, that confident expression that only appeared whenever she was 100% certain of herself and her deductions.

She was a doctor after all, not just a mere kind soul, and it was moments like this one that reminded him that he was, after all, just a human.

Because his heart was beating faster than ever whenever she was around him...

And that scared him..And more than than, it scared his past self so much that he felt the need to run away for the first time in his life.

Now, Miles Edgeworth realised that he had no reason to run away, and that her aura was a pure and benevolent, and it was all addressed to him.

He was a fool for running away from her.

But now, a greater crisis arose for Miles Edgeworth.

Who was he anyway?!

“If you are this confident, then I assume you know the murderer’s name?” Karma chimed in with a gremlin smirk. “No, I don’t know his name. I don’t know...Because he never told us. Please bring forward to the stand the caretaker of the boat shop!” Phoenix told the judge, whose bottom lip quivered in realisation.

But as if on cue, a policeman burst through the doors, saying that the very man in cause disappeared without a any notice.

The old man fled.

That was guilt.

The court was adjourned and the trial will continue the tomorrow.

That night, back in the cell, Miles looked out of little window and pondered about his past.

Long ago, before his father died, and he wanted to become a defense prosecutor...And yet, there he is, a filthy, evil prosecutor, just like the man who took him under his wing.

How vile, and yet, there’s no turning back from that.

He cannot atone for the way he treated his only friends so long ago...Fifteen years ago...Has it really been that long? It must be.

And yet, somehow, he stumbled into the girl once, when he had to take Pocky to the vet, and she was working there as a Vet student. He can still remember so vividly her beautiful eyes, filled with so much shock and emotions once he told her his name to write in the register and the pen fell from her hands.

He didn’t understand it at first, until she rose up and stared into his eyes.

There was no more need for words, for he remembered. And more, she showed him the Green Signal Samurai keychain she had attached to her keys. He couldn’t believe his eyes...

Y/N was right there, in front of him, and he had the chance to rekindle their relationship, after so long.

He could do that. He really wanted to. His heart was yelling at him to ask for her phone number, to give him her address, to at least let him take her out for dinner or walk her home - At least as a thank you pretext for taking care of his dog...THEIR dog...

But he couldn’t.

Inside, he was still a broken man who was afraid to approach the people he cared so much about.

But she was brave, and he knew she missed him endlessly, and she did the first step to ask for HIS phone number and ask him to accompany her to lunch for some ramen and sushi.

The ‘date’ was really great, and they had fun, they laughed and shared old memories, as well as recent things happening...And he was happy.

He truly was happy around her, he knew that, and yet...He didn’t deserve this happiness, and he didn’t want to taint her angel heart, so after this, he decided to ghost her, step by step, no matter how much his own heart was breaking, and he knew hers was as well.

Miles Edgeworth, you god damn jerk, you are vile. You are the worst of the worst. How could you be such a terrible terrible jackass with someone who cares so much about you, even after all these years? Why do you have to hide behind that invisible wall of loneliness you created because of your pent up emotions and unresolved family issues? Why can’t you just accept that you are a human and have emotions? Why can’t you just accept people in your life and learn how to live again?

You truly are a fool, Miles Edgeworth.

He regret the day he met her again, and more, he regretted that he left her...Abandoned her...Just like that old hag abandoned Pocky before. 

He truly was the worst, without a doubt.

So why...Why...Is she still here, heart and soul, completely sold, working night and day along with Phoenix and her little sister to get him out of this mess that he created?

He doesn’t deserve it...But she deserves better. No matter what he does, he only brings her misfortune and pain.

But one thing alone was certain, and for that, he knew that his sinoatrial node was still continuing to make his heart pump at a rapid pace, thanks to his ridiculous sympathetic system that hasn’t worked properly since 15 years ago.

Miles Edgeworth was completely enamoured with Y/N Fey.

- - -

Detective Gumdick managed to capture the fleeing suspect again and confirmed that no crime happened on the boat, the real crime most likely having happened  in the old rental shack, and with the help of Polly the Parrot, they managed to open the safe.

1228

And a letter was there, with no sender.

“Get revenge on Miles Edgeworth. This is your last chance. Now is the time to get revenge on the two men who ruined your life.”

This message was obviously the plan to murder Hammond and frame poor Miley...But the mastermind...The sender...And how is this connected to DL-6...?

Her suspicions have always been Karma, otherwise she couldn’t understand why in the world would he want to incriminate his own adoptive son...With such hatred and condescence nonetheless.

The DL-6 incident...When Miles, a poor little kid stuck in an elevator with his father and a stranger... And he shot his own father in an attempt to protect him. How stupid of him. He shouldn’t get out of this mess...

- - -

                                   December 28, 10 AM                         District Court - Courtroom No. 3

“Court is now in session for the trial of Mr. Miles Edgeworth. Your opening statement, Mr. von Karma.” the judge declared, making everyone stay silent so we could begin.

And so, Karma got the old man to testify once again...This should be interesting.

Witness - ???

“Er, I’m really sorry about just leaving yesterday like I did. I, uh, went to buy Polly some food, see. My partner, you see.” the witness said, which made me raise by eyebrow in confusion, while Karma clarified it was a parrot.

But...Polly is a girl name...Albeit, also a very popular Parrot name...And yet, the way he referred to the Parrot as a partner...Could it be he named his pet after a potential old girlfriend of his?!

“Yesterday, you claimed that you’ve lost your memory. Is that true?” Nix asked the old man, who defended himself quickly. “What’s with that scary face, Keith? You’re making Dad very sad.” he claimed, making the girl roll her eyes at his absurd behaviour. “If we consider that you killed Hammond, you should remember committing the murder!” Nix accused the man, with a more serious face. “Objection! That is a baseless accusation! If you say the witness does, in fact, remember his past, then show us proof of it!” Karma smirked triumphantly, making the elder girl match his expression. “I was waiting for you to say that! You want proof, have this!” she chuckled, taking out the letter and presenting it as evidence. “This is a letter we found in his room, inside the safe! This letter has detailed instructions on how to exact that revenge.” the girl continued her explanation to the judge, who nodded in understanding. “Dear me...It details the exact same process the defense explained yesterday.” the judge rubbed his beard like an old wizard. “The witness carried out this plan and tried to frame my client. That means he had a motive to seek revenge! And this letter is irrefutable proof of his guilt!” Phoenix explained the evidence he held. “Then, let me ask you a question. That letter does not contain the names of the sender or recipient, does it? It is a mere scrap that anyone could have sent to anyone. We can hardly call it proof. The defense’s claims are still only unfounded speculations. In the first place, nothing links this witness to the defendant!” the prosecutor thought he won it all, but clearly, he was 1 step behind the defense. “Objection! The victim, Hammond, and Edgeworth shared a connection. The DL--6 incident! The case in which the defendant’s father was murdered. And Hammond was the one who defended the suspect!” Phoenix looked at the judge with a fierce expression. “Clearly, the DL-6 incident, which occurred 15 years ago, is at the root of this murder. There is one man who knows what happened back then.” the elder Fey girl sat on the defense table with her legs crossed, wearing a knowing smirk. “The defense would like to call Marvin Grossberg to testify!” her and Phoenix called out at the same time with perfect sync.

Witness - Marvin Grossberg

“I am Marvin Grossberg, an attorney. The victim in this trial, Hammond, once worked for me. The DL-6 incident happened 15 years ago, on December 28th. Coincidentally, that is also today’s date. It occurred here, in the district courthouse. That day, there was a majour blackout and 3 people were trapped in an elevator. Hours later, when the rescue team got in, they found Gregory Edgeworth dead inside. He had died instantly after being shot through the heart. There were two others in the elevator with him - Miles, who was 10 years old at the time, and a court bailiff...Yanni Yogi, I think his name was. At first, it was considered an open-and-shut case, that Yogi had shot the victim in a panic. However, he plead not guilty. The investigation hit a dead end, and the police turned to a spirit medium for help. The victim’s spirit said that Yogi killed him. The medium’s name was Misty Fey. Her overwhelming power left all who witnessed it speechless. The defense admitted that he might have fired the gun, but added that, due to severe lack of oxygen, in the elevator, Yogi hadn’t been of sound mind and couldn’t be held responsible. With that claim, Hammond forced a verdict of not guilty. Because of that, despite his acquittal, Yogi was socially vilified.” the attorney explained in detail everything that happened so long ago. “So an acquittal wasn’t enough to truly save Yogi?” Nix asked for confirmation. “Due to Hammond’s defense, he lost everything - His work and his family. One year after the trial, Yogi’s fiancee committed suicide.” this statement made the girl ponder for a few seconds...

Yogi’s fiancee...Could that have been...Polly? It would make sense...And it would mean why Yogi would hate Hammond - And if he truly was innocent, which she doubted, he must also resent Miles’s dad’s spirit for accusing him of murder.

Phoenix then accused the old man of being Yanni Yogi, saying he could compare the fingertips, but surprise surprise, he burned his fingers in an ‘accident’ years ago. What a pleasant coincidence.

It was obvious that the defense attorney was thinking over and over how he could prove the witness was Yanni, making the girl scoff.

“The defense would like to cross-examine the witness’s pet parrot, Polly. If my theory is correct, based on the word-slip of the old man, who claimed Polly is his ‘Partner’, perhaps he named the Parrot after his deceased fiancee. Who else would he trust with the combination of the same that held such an incriminatory letter in his own shack?” the Fey girl snapped her fingers with a knowing smirk towards the judge.

Witness - Polly

“Sis, I’m counting on you. Polly loves you more than she loves us.” she chuckled at her sister, tilting her head for her to go ahead.

Maya began with a simple question, asking the parrot what its name is, and it answered clearly - Polly - Amazing the judge. Then, Maya asked for the combination to the safe, and just as easily, came the answer - 1228 Next, she asked if there was anything we’ve forgotten...Which was met with silence as an answer...

Karma clearly expected this...But Phoenix took out the DL-6 file, and searching through it, Y/N found Yanni’s profile, and there, “Polly Jenkins” was written as his fiancee’s name.

“Ha! Karma, you think you’ve bested us? You are wrong! Your Honour, look what’s written here! Polly Jenkins, Yanni Yogi’s fiance! The parrot is clearly named after his fiancee, as I suspected! And if we look into it, the cobination for the safe! 1228...12-28! December 28th! That is the date of the DL-6 incident!” the Fey girl jumped from the defense table and showed the judge Yanni’s profile so he could be convinced as well. “Judge, get rid of this bird already! These are mere coincidences!” Karma tried to desperately get rid of the important witness, but Y/N was pissed off. “No! A wise man once said - In a crime case there is no room for coincidences! If there are, it’s clearly a pattern, not a mistake! That means that you, witness - Your name is truly Yanni Yogi, isn’t it?! Stop hiding and reveal the truth already!” Fey shouted at the man who was feigning his sleep.

The courtroom became a huge calamity with everyone screaming, until the witness yelled for everyone to shut the hell up and raised to his feet, his expression no longer lost, but sharp and sure of himself.

“Enough. I’ve accomplished what I wanted. I’m done. As the defense said, my name is Yanni Yogi. I used to serve as a bailiff in this very court.” the old man admitted, after so long. “Th-Then...You admit to killing Hammond and trying to frame Miles Edgeworth?” the judge gaped at the change in behaviour. “Yes, I admit it. Fifteen years ago, that attorney paid absolutely no heed to my words. I didn’t shoot that man, however, that attorney made me admit to it, saying it was the only way to acquit me...But my release didn’t change a thing. Everyone continued to treat me like a murderer...I couldn’t do a thing...And Polly...She said she was sick and tired of it all...Ever since, I’ve lived my life away from the public eye, dreaming of the day I’d get my revenge!” the old man had tears in his eyes, and rightfully so. “I understand your motive for wanting revenge. It is humane...However...Why did you have to go to the lengths of framing Miles, who was a mere 10 year old at the time, and the child of the murdered person? He went through enough trauma as it is, you didn’t have to add more, y’know?” the Fey girl crossed her arms, looking at the man with slight pity, but also anger in her eyes. “Why don’t you ask him?” Yanni muttered, looking at her with a sharp expression, which made her widen her eyes in realisation at the implication of his words. “Your Honour! The boat shop owner, Yanni Yogi,has just confessed to the crime! The defense asks that you declare the defendant not guilty!” Phoenix shouted to the judge with fire in his voice. “What do you say, prosecutor von Karma?” the judge asked, waiting to see if there was any more refuting from his side. “I suppose he is innocent...In this case, at least.” Karma scoffed, looking away with a devilish expression...This isn’t over...Not even close... “I shall hereby hand down the verdict for Mr. Miles Edgeworth.”

                                          NOT GUILTY

“YES! Finally, we did it, Nix! Miles is safe!” the elder Fey girl jumped happily in her spot, only for the man who was once so silent to speak up, loud enough to silence everyone.

“OBJECTION! Your Honour...I confess my guilt. The true culprit in the DL-6 incident...It was I!” Miles admitted, and it felt like the sky fell on the girl.

Why...? How...?!

Even if that was the truth, who cares? You were a kid trying to protect your dad, Miley, stop with this idiocy!

“For 15 years, I have had a recurring dream. I’m in the dark, and it’s hard to breathe...Eventually, I hear a gunshot and a terrible scream. A blood-curdling scream that I still hear to this day. It’s only a nightmare - That is what I’ve always told myself - But if Yogi didn’t actually kill my father, the nightmare points to a horrifying truth, that I was the one who killed my father that day!” Miles’s confession came, and the judge asked for a 15 minute recess to think things over.

Miles, along with Phoenix and the two Fey sisters went to the lounge to look over the files, but the elder girl was pacing left and right, trying to calm down her unstoppable running thoughts from her already overthinking brain.

She was never a violent person, but she knew that, despite the stoic facade she always kept, her heart was soft and overly-emotional, and now, she was barely restraining herself from breaking down to weep and punch the silver haired man repeatedly.

“I’m sorry Wright, I’ve just wasted all your efforts.” the man in cause spoke from the corner of the room. “Is that truly what you should be saying right now, Miles Edgeworth?” the girl’s voice was sharp, dripping with acid, as she glared at him harshly. “I am sorry, Y/N. I know you wanted nothing more but to get me out of there, but-” he kept speaking, but his voice only grated the girl’s mind. “Shut the hell up, Edgeworth. Your voice pisses me off. Me sensible for once, read the fucking room. You’re an idiot, and I’m never, in this life, or any life, going to forgive you for the stupidity you just pulled there. If you wanted to confess, you could have gone to a priest, not a judge! But of course, you are Miles Fucking Edgeworth, and you HAVE to be extra and cause everyone around you an exorbitant amount of problems! Do me a favour and stop opening that mouth of yours before I break it for you.” he was shocked, he had to admit, since he never thought she would snap like that at him, but by Phoenix’s reaction, and Maya’s alike, they were expecting that. “Leave her alone, Edgeworth. If you annoy Y/N when she’s already stressed, nothing good will come out of it.” Nix muttered, still focused on his files.

the silver haired man nodded, not daring to say anything anymore, and just watched with sad eyes as the girl he loved kept having her heart stabbed continuously by his own selfish actions.

Looking out of the window, he pondered to that horrible night when Karma came to pick him up from home, and Karma threw the Red Signal Samurai keychain on the trash bin cap, before getting him inside the car, accompanied by his daughter.

Before he stepped into the car, Y/N, Phoenix and Larry ran to him, calling out his name, so they could at least have a proper goodbye... But he just left, without a word.

He wasn’t sure, for many years, what happened while he was gone, until he met that day with Y/N and she told him everything in precise detail.

Larry was pissed off when he found the Red Signal Samurai keychain on the trash cap, threw it on the ground, wanting to stomp on it, but Y/N threw herself at him, making the both of them fall to the ground, while Phoenix put his hands over the keychain to protect it.  Then, the former threw his own Yellow keychain to the ground, saying their friendship is no more, and then left.

On the way to his new home, Miles did the Hansel and Gretel trick, just like before, and let dog food on the ground, so he could return and get his keychain. She told Miles that she knew he wasn’t a jerk and the keychain left there was a sign he will return, and so, she was the first to notice the dog good on the ground. When he returned, however, he wasn’t greeted by his keychain, but by Y/N and Phoenix, wearing soft smiles on their faces.

“How did you know I would return?” Miles asked, his face so innocent and shocked. “I just knew. When I saw the keychain there, I started looking for dog food, and when I did...Well, here we are, waiting for you. You’re a smart boy, and you deeply care about our friendship...So, here, this is yours.” Y/N grinned at him, putting his red keychain in his palm, holding his clenched fist in her hands. “We knew you’d never throw it away. We’re gonna be friends forever! Take care, Edgeworth.” Nix shook Miles’s hand, which made the girl giggle. “I will miss you, Miley. I hope we will meet each other again very soon!” she smiled softly, and it seemed like the rain and dark clouds were illuminated by a Goddess, if not, only by a split second. “...Y-Yes...I hope so too...Fey.” he muttered, looking down, embarrassed. “Call me Y/N, silly! We are friends, and Pocky’s parents!” she giggled, hugging him and kissing his cheek, which made his face erupt in a violent blush. “D-Don’t do that...I-It’s improper...” the poor boy stumbled over his words, which only made the girl laugh at how cute he was being.

At that exact moment, Pocky started barking oh-so-cutely and Larry, carrying three umbrellas, cleared his throat awkwardly, came in, feigning to look for something.

“Where could it be? I dropped something around here, too...” Larry spoke, not daring to look at them yet. “You’re such a dork, Larry!” the girl chuckled, holding Miles’s arm. “I’ve got it right here, Larry! Look, your Yellow Signal Samurai!” Nix handed him his keychain, making him cheer in glee. “Why do you have three umbrellas?” Nix asked in confusion. “Oh, uh, you know...Y/N always shares with Miles...B-But the rain already stopped...” he played it off cool, making the rest chuckle at his great intentions. “Anyway, Edgey...From what I can see, he ate all your markers. How are you gonna get back?” 

This simple statement was enough to make the whole gang laugh at the funny mistake, and put their keychains together, as a way to show that their friendship will truly last forever.

But he screwed up...He was the first to screw up. Things could have been so different. Maybe he could have actually been a nice Defense Attorney like his dad was...Maybe this friendship would have helped him heal, and having Y/N by his side would have mellowed his heart that got frozen by Karma so cruelly.

His life was filled with unanswerable questions, dilemmas and uncertainties, but at least he knew that there was a weird sense of security whenever he saw her smile.

He felt the warmth of home, and he didn’t want to lose it again.

If he got his life back, he wanted to let in the past all those uncertainties, the guilt, the hatred and everything that had him stuck in the past, and try, with help, to move into the present and learn how to live life once again.

But then...He was disturbed from his thoughts by Maya, who told him Phoenix’s reason for becoming an attorney - It was him - He wanted to find out what happened to him, and why he became the abominable, heartless wretch in front of him.

Miles knew that - Yes - he stepped on his dreams, he was blinded by revenge and hatred, and chose the path of the Prosecutor, of Karma, because he hated defense attorneys. He hated Hammond and his shady acquittal. It was Karma who taught him that justice should be perfect and cold-hearted. A merciless hammer to be used upon all. He wanted to make as many criminals as he could atone for his sins.

“Who the hell do you think you are? Ma’at? Anubis? You are just a human with too much imagination who got swept off by guilt and manipulated by that bastard. I’m a doctor, I know my stuff, and listen to me. You think you became a prosecutor to escape the in you committed? But...You did nothing. You keep talking about that nightmare, how you killed your dad, but you were 10 years old! You’ve been living in trauma all this life, and from your guilt formed that nightmare. You are trying to justify a reality that never happened, just so you could have some sort of answer. You, Miles Edgeworth, are a damned idiot, that’s what you are.” Y/N shook her head at him, which made him, once again, widen his eyes in shock and ponder over her words. “...But we’ve got this far...And I’m not giving up on you. You deserve being given up upon! You really do! I’m pissed off at you, you understand that, right? Even so, my pride as a doctor doesn’t allow me to give up, especially not on you. You’re more helpless than you believe, no matter how much power you think you have.” she scoffed looking out of the window.

What if what she said was true? What if that nightmare was what he believed happened? A fabricated answer to an unsolvable riddle? A fake answer that trauma created over the years.

Did he just destroy his future because of guilt? Is he still the innocent and scared little boy from that elevator, even now?

“But I’ve admitted by guilt! I’ve admitted that I was the one who killed my father, Gregory Edgeworth! There’s no way to back down from my confession.” Miles replied to her, his face betraying the hopelessness he harboured in his heart. “Do you remember the 31st episode of the Signal Samurais?” Y/N asked in a low voice, her nails digging into her arms, trying to contain the smirk threatening to creep on her face. “Huh...? What’s this about...?” Miles raised his eyebrow in confusion. “Ah, I know! It’s the episode where the Red Signal Samurai gets kidnapped, and the Green Signal Samurai Goes to rescue him, while the Blue and Yellow help her out, right?!” Phoenix raised to his feet, speaking a bit too loudly, for it caused the girl to burst into that gorgeous, confident, condescending smirk of hers. “Yes, Nix, you’ve got that right! Miles’ nightmare is bullshit, and even if he doesn’t believe in his innocence, I do! I, the Green Signal Samurai, am going to save the idiotic Red Signal Samurai from his demise!” she took out her keys, letting her keychain dangle proudly, leaving the man in front of her jaw dropped.

He was so in love with her. God damn it, his chest hurt so much, and all he wanted was to hold her tightly to his chest and cry out all his emotions for the rest of the day.

But he couldn’t.

He had to stay strong and fight for his freedom. He owed her at least that much.

“Phoenix, look at this picture. There’s this bullet hole here...And there is the corpse here...Then, that means...!” were the girl’s last words of wonder before they were summoned back to the court.

                               December 28, 3:30 PM                       District Court - Courtroom No. 3

The judge recapped what happened, allowing the defense to begin the cross-examination.  The reason for Miles being there was to observe his dad’s trials. He didn’t remember what the case involved, only that, coincidentally, he was against Karma.

That clears up a lot of things... Karma was afraid of the competition, not wanting to tarnish his perfect record, and killed the best Defense attorney. What a joke...

Help didn’t come for hours, and gradually, the air within the elevator began to thin, making Yogi panic and attack Miles’s dad. From then, his memories are jumbled, and all he remembers is a shot and a terrible scream, just like in his nightmare. He lost consciousness and when he woke up, he was in a hospital bed.

“There’s no room for doubt.” Karma smirked victoriously. “I wouldn’t be so hasty saying that, Karma. Look at this photograph of the crime scene. It contradicts Miles’s testimony. There is a bullet hole in the door, but Miles said he only heard one single gunshot. But in the picture, there are two bullet holes! One in the body and one in the door!” the girl went to the TV, pointing to the obvious contradiction. “The bullet that killed the victim could have pierced his body and hit the door.” Karma snapped his fingers confidently. “You’re wrong. The data from the files say the pistol was fired twice. The evidence contradicts Miles’s testimony.” the girl clapped her hands together, shrugging nonchalantly. “But there’s no proof that the second shot was fired at the time of the murder.” Karma wagged his finger at her to deny her statement. “The pistol was fired twice, and there were two bullet holes at the crime scene. It’s natural to assume these facts are related. The defendant was still a child back then, and he lost consciousness after the first shot, which means, the someone else was at the crime scene to shoot the second shot! The actual murderer!” she shouted, and for Miles, it seemed as if she was enveloped in a divine aura of justice and light. “OBJECTION! Unfortunately, there’s something you seem to have overlooked! Look at the file, only one bullet was found at the crime scene! The bullet that claimed the victim’s life was lodged in his body. No other bullets were found at the scene! That means the second shot was never fired. Ergo, your claims are unfounded!” Karma refuted with a perfect argument, making the defense frown in panic, trying to think of what happened.

In the background, Maya was trying to channel the spirit of her sister, while the judge was confirming whether or not Miles truly threw the pistol in an attempt to save his father, which then resulted in an unexpected tragedy, that the idiotic prosecutor confirmed without a second of doubt.

Thanks to Mia Fey’s guiding words, Phoenix was able to regain his confidence and stop the verdict from being spoken.

“A second shot really was fired at the scene that day! The second bullet disappeared, and there is but one possible reason why! The murderer took it from the scene!” Phoenix spoke, continuing his trail of thoughts. “Objections! Why would he do something so pointless?” Karma sniggered at the defense attorney. “The only possibility is that the other bullet hit the murderer! If the murderer was also shot at the time of the crime, he would’ve been forced to take the bullet, which is why there is no second bullet at the scene of the crime!” the elder Fey girl spoke up in a firm tone, trying to lead the conversation towards her own deductions. “OBJECTIONS! There is no record of anyone else shot at the courthouse that day! So long as we have no suspect, we are finished here!” Karma snapped his fingers at the judge, making the girl gasp, then laugh. “HA! I knew it! I KNEW it! Karma, you are wrong! There is one suspect and one suspect alone! Marvin Grossberg claims that after Gregory Edgeworth’s death, you took a day off, out of respect for your rival, is that correct? The ONLY day off in your entire career! What if that day off was, in fact, for you to heal, not because of respect? You have respect for no one! Fifteen years ago, the murderer who took a bullet before killing the victim and vanishing from the scene was YOU, Karma!” Y/N shouted loudly, her voice dripping with righteousness and rage, but above all, she was smug and confident - Miles realised then that she suspected Karma all along, and she was right, once again.

Her explanation was so powerful that it shook Karma, hitting him on the jury stand behind him, making him glare at her with an almost demonic look.

“How dare you?! Do you think you’ll get away with such an outrageous claim?!” Karma yelled at the girl, who could only smirk and cross her arms in victory. “It’s as Y/N said. On that day, fifteen years ago, you took on Gregory Edgeworth in court. You won, but your victory wasn’t a perfect one, for you’d submitted falsified evidence. You’re a prosecutor who strives for perfection, and Gregory Edgeworth tainted your perfect record. That could have been your motive for murder!” Phoenix continued the girl’s argument, and they were truly in sync. “Judge, stop them from spouting any more baseless slander!” Karma growled at the judge. “You’d think it was from the shock of having his rival murdered, but think otherwise, what if he was forced to take the day off? The ONLY day off in his 40 year career? Perhaps...To extract the bullet that hit him during the murder?” the girl pressed on assertively. “But it’s impossible to recover from surgery to extract a bullet in one day.” the  judge pointed out, making the girl nod. “Obviously, I know that, I’m a doctor, which is why I present you with another possibility. The murderer never took out the bullet from his body. And to see if that’s correct or not...Maya, give me that metal detector.” Y/N took the metal detector from her little sister’s hands and went to Karma. “It’s the moment of truth! The defense requests permission to examine Karma’s body!” the girl shouted, smirking with intense confidence at the elder man in front of her. “Ridiculous! I refuse!” Karma growled, gripping his right shoulder. “But if you’re innocent, you should have no reason to refuse.” the judge said something good, for the first time in the whole trial. 

And so, the girl approached the metal detector to the prosecutor’s shoulder, and as soon as it reached the bullet, it started beeping loudly, the meter going to maximum, making the girl yell in satisfaction.

“This makes it clear! The bullet fired fifteen years ago still rests in Karma’s shoulder!” Phoenix pointed towards the evil prosecutor, only for him to laugh cruelly, pointing right back and snapping his fingers. “Indeed, there is a bullet in my shoulder, I will admit that much, but it has nothing to do with this incident. A few years ago, I accidentally shot myself while examining a pistol to be used as evidence.” he spoke so innocently with the tongue of the devil. “Stop bullshitting, it’s getting annoying! Admit to your sins, Karma!” the girl gritted her teeth at him in rage. “Can you prove it?” the older man provoked the girl, who nodded nonchalantly. “Let’s compare the ballistic makings of the two bullets.” the girl opened the box in which the bullet was resting...”WHAT?! H-How did you...?!” a wave of dread and panic splashed the girl away from this reality as she realised nothing good was going to come out of this mess. “It appears this is as far as your delusions go! Now, end this trial!” Karma shouted, looking at the Judge.

No...This can’t be happening...They were so close to the truth...How could he let it slip past his fingers like that?  They worked too much for this to be over, in vain...SHE threw away her heart and soul for him, and this happens now...? No...No way...He had to do something...Something flashy, that will attract attention and will give them some time off to think... And he knew just what. Fake a heart attack.

He gripped tightly at his shirt, falling over the table and grunting in pain, earning gasps from everyone, yet only the girl in cause had quick reactions, as any doctor would, and ran to him in a split-second, checking on him.

“Judge, we need a time off! He’s having a possible heart attack!” the girl shouted frantically, and with the help of Phoenix, they carried him into the lobby, laying him down on the red couch. “That was close...” Miles muttered, opening his eyes as soon as he knew they were safe. “Can you PLEASE stop making me worry about you for just ONE SINGLE FUCKING SECOND?! I don’t know how much more my heart can take, damn it.” the glared at him, and his heart melted, realising she was barely keeping her facade on. “It was the only way to stop the verdict.” he spoke, looking down. “...You really are something else, Miley...What can we do, though? The data is gone...” she pouted, looking down. “Detective Gumshoe. If the data is gone, there’s only one thing we can do. Someone has to sneak into Karma’s office. He always hides disadvantageous evidence in his office. Listening to your defense finally made me realise that I...I want to believe in myself. I will accompany you partway. Only prosecutors can enter the offices. The doors use retinal identification. ” Miles began to explain the plan, making the girl giggle at him. “You’re more trouble than you’re worth, Miley. Let’s get this clown fiesta started.” the elder Fey smirked mischievously, rubbing her palms together, imitating a generic villain from cartoons. I will accompany you partway. Only prosecutors can enter the offices. The doors use retinal identification. “You look like the villain from the Signal Samurai show.” the silver haired man pointed out, with a hint of a smile on his face, making the girl chuckle and nod in approval. “Yes, indeed. After all, I am going to do something rather villainous, aren’t I?” she winked, walking to the Prosecutors’ Office.

Since the recess was only 5 minutes, and Miles would be back in 10, the plan was to fool everyone by dressing up Larry as Miles. Flawless plan.

                                  December 28, 3:55 PM                                Public Prosecutors’ Office

“Leave the rest to me and rush to the court.” the girl spoke boldly, in a shushed voice, holding eye contact to reassure him. “I’m...I’m very sorry to make you do this...And everything...For me, Y/N. I swear I will make it up to you.” he spoke in a gentle, yet guilty voice. “You’re taking me out on a date once this is over, clear? Now go back...My faith in Larry is close to null.” the girl winked at him, pushing him away. “Crystal clear.” with a faint smile, Miles left back to the courtroom, leaving the girl on her villainous plight.

Of course, in the courtroom, nobody was fooled by Larry’s terrible impersonation, but in Karma’s office, the girl managed to find the secret button to unlock the locked shelf, and she found the pistol and bullet right there, as Miles predicted, and quickly took them.

She wasn’t expecting to get tasered and to fall unconscious for a split second by some corrupt bailiff who worked for Karma, but the idiot didn’t bother taking the bullet too, only the pistol, so she snatched it and quickly ran back to the court, thanking whatever deity above from having enough stamina and speed, while also wearing light sneakers, as she arrived fairly quickly to the courtroom, with a flashy entrance.

“OBJECTIOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOON!” she panted for air, holding the bag with the bullet up, in the air, for everyone to see. “Karma, you’re a true shitbag! I have the defense’s fresh evidence!” she yelled triumphantly, feeling incredibly satisfied seeing Karma’s crestfallen expression. “This is the bullet that killed Miles’s dad! To think you would go to such lengths to hide this, along with the pistol, in your office, and more, to have some bailiff bribed to taser anyone who got in! You are a true criminal, Karma!” she shouted loud and clear, glaring with confidence at the man, her power making him completely drop his prosecutor facade. “Extract the bullet in Mr. von Karma’s shoulder at once and compare the ballistic markings of the two bulets!” Phoenix also pointed towards the villain, yelling with righteousness. “If they match, that will mean they were fired from the same pistol...” Miles continued the trio incrimination monologue. “AND PROVE THAT YOU WERE AT THE SCENE OF THE CRIME! PERFECTLY!” the trio shouted sternly, in perfect synchronisation, making the prosecutor glare and grit his teeth, realising there was no getting out of this, and let out a shrill shriek, that Miles recognised as the scream from his nightmares. “Miles Edgeworth! You and your father are my curse! You both dare defy me?!” he tried to snap his fingers, but it was useless, just like him. “You will be judged by the law. That is all there is to it.” Miles spoke, regaining his composure and confidence, making the girl look at him with pride. “That day, 15 years ago, I was in the court records room. The elevators had ceased functioning due to the blackout. That’s when it happened - I felt a horrible, burning pain in my shoulder. Just then, the elevator door opened before my eyes and I saw three people inside, lying unconscious, one of them being Gregory Edgeworth, the attorney who had tainted my perfect record. A pistol lay at my feet and I knew then that it was destiny! Yes, he died, never knowing who had shot him!” the jerk explained, almost hysterical. “So wonder his spirit said Yogi shot him. And to think it’s all your fault for everything that’s been happening so far...Miles’s dad’s death and his childhood ruined, my, Maya’s and Mia’s mother fleeing the village because of all the backlash and us never knowing what and why our world was turned upside down...Phoenix and Larry losing their best friend...You truly are the worst, Karma. And your name suits you well, as a reminder, that if you do bad, you will receive bad.” the elder Fey girl glared at him with disgust. “I never imagined the bulled from the past would pierce me a second time. Is that also destiny?” the villain muttered in desperation. “It wasn’t the bullet that shot you, Karma. It was truth and justice brought upon you by a scorned woman!” Y/N yelled at him, and this time, his cane broke, making him fall to the knees truly defeated. 

And with that, Karma was sent to jail, and the 5 friends went to the lobby to recover from all the mess that happened in the courtroom.

“I’M SO STOOOKED! You guys are seriously the greatest!” Larry cheered loudly, flailing his arms randomly into the air. “I always believed you were innocent, Mr. Edgeworth!” Dickgum spoke, crying rivers. “We did it, Y/N, Nick! Oh, and, thank you! That was from my sister!” Maya yapped cheerfully, as always. “Wright...” Miles got his attention, as he grabbed his arm and looked away with slight embarrassment, just like when he was young. “So, it’s finally over, Edgeworth.” Nix smiled at his friend, turning to him and pushing Larry away. “You have my gratitude...Uhmmm...Thank you for all your help.” Miles smiled at him, and they shook hands, as a sign of solidarity and friendship. “Finally, something good happened. About time.” the girl chuckled, looking away to hide the happiness on her face. “Hey, you’re being so gracious today! Nice, nice!” Larry grinned widely. “I hope with this I managed to repay you a little.” Nix spoke, confusing Miles. “Repay...?” he muttered, raising his eyebrow questioningly. “I know, I know! The case of the missing lunch money, right?” Maya butted in, making her sister smirk. “Yes. You defended me that day. That made me who I am, it’s why I’m here now.” Nix explained, making his friend blink. “When is my turn to be repaid, hmmm~? After all, I was the first one to step in and defend you, riiiight, Nix~?” the girl leaned forward, teasing her old friend. “Ahhhhh, I thought- But, I- W-Wait, Y/N - !” Nix stumbled over his words, making the girl chuckle mockingly. “You’re so easy to tease, Blue Signal Samurai! I have to say, the Green Signal Samurai truly was the best character from the show!” the girl boasted, taking out her keys and rotating them with her finger in the keychain. “Remember this?” Nix asked, taking out his own keychain. “You guys truly still have that? I have no idea where it went.” he gaped, seeing the two samurais. “Shut up, you still have yours too. I’m sure that, if it’s not at your keys, it’s somewhere on your desk.” the girl teased her crush, making him close his eyes and blush. “I wonder who really stole the money though...” Maya pondered softly. “Yeah, that’s a good question.” Gumtree nodded in agreement, only for Larry to look away and hand Miles some money. “The lunch money was 38 dollars, right?” Larry asked sheepishly. “U-Uh...Larry...?” Maya blinked at him in disbelief. “You didn’t...” Miles sweat-dropped, frowning slightly. “You must be kidding me-” the elder Fey girl’s jaw dropped, looking at him with a crestfallen expression. “LARRY, IT WAS YOU?!” Phoenix yelled in irritation at his best friend. “Y-YOU’VE GOT IT ALL WRONG!!!” Larry tried vehemently to defend himself. “I had a good reason for what I did!!” “I’LL SUE YOU AND PUT YOU ON TRIAL!! I’ll become a prosecutor to make perfectly sure you’re punished!” Phoenix pointed angrily at his friend. “I WILL SUE YOU FOR MALPRACTICE AND LONG-TERM CHILDHOOD TRAUMA!” Y/N shouted at him with the same fire as her friend. “EDGEY, YOU DEFEND ME!” Larry shouted, pleading for his friend’s help. “Well...I suppose I’ll have to.” Miles looked away with a smile, joining in the chaos. “You’re the victim! Why would you defend the culprit?!” Phoenix yelled at Miles while him and Larry were pulling on each other’s ears. “...You guys are truly hopeless.” the girl got over the shock of the news, allowing herself to enjoy this rare moment of peace together. “We’re having a party tonight! Yaaaaay!!” Maya cheered, jumping up and down, making her sister and Miles share a look. “Perhaps we can leave that for another time.” he muttered, looking away and stepping towards the exit. “Ehhhhhh?! Why don’t you want to celebrate your innocence?!” Maya gaped at him, only for him to blush furiously. “Ohhhhh! About time!” Phoenix grinned at his two best friend, as the girl winked at him. “Tell me about it.” Y/N chuckled, going to take Miles’s arm and waving at her friends. “Laters~!”

The two went to the same restaurant as before, where they got some ramen and sushi, but it was clear the man was still clinging to his past regrets.

“Doesn’t this scene look pretty familiar?” the girl jabbed at him playfully with a maki sushi between her chopsticks. “A bit.” he muttered, biting his lip. “Is it going to be followed by the same outcome?” she asked, taking a bite of the maki, watching him attentively. “No, it won’t. I promised I’ll make it up to you, and I will keep that promise.” he shook his head, daring to hold her hand. “Good. I was getting pretty tired of chasing ghosts.” she smiled, intertwining her fingers with his. “Since I saw you again, I kept thinking about you...About us. I kept thinking what I should do to break the shackles holding me in the past...And I think I need a to go on a journey of self-recognition. To discover again who I am, because clearly, I’ve forgotten everything I used to stand for. The person I’ve become isn’t the Miles Edgeworth that deserves you, and I want to become again that person.” he spoke, squeezing her hand gently. “And I will be there to support and cheer on you with every step you take, holding your hand and encouraging you, just as I’ve always done. Because you’re not alone in this world, Miley. You have all of us. We all love you, and that will never change. Don’t forget that this time too, okay?” she winked at him with a smug, kitten-like smile. “I promise I won’t make the same mistakes I’ve done before. Would you...Would you...Join me? I know it’s a lot to ask, that your life is here, and I would be taking you away from your career and passion...But...I would love it if you were by my side.” he asked in a low, timid tone, making the girl smile at how sweet he was being. “Bold of you to assume I would temporarily leave everything I’ve build to be with you...” she teased him, grinning at his solemn face. “And bold of me to even insinuate that I wouldn’t join you. I’ve been waiting for you for 15 years, Miley. There’s nothing in this world, except for yourself, that could keep me away from you. So...This time, when you leave, you better tell me so I can walk by your side. To the Moon and back.” she confessed softly, turning on her chair to look at him with a gentle expression. “Just like my love for you. The Moon and back. I promise you won’t regret it.” he caressed her face with the back of his hand, before boldly cupping her face and leaning in to kiss her, all the pent up love and emotions that were once caged inside their hearts bursting out, released into this act of intimacy they’ve been craving for ages. “I will never regret choosing you, Miley. I love you more than you can even dream of.” she chuckled softly looking at him with content and peace. “Thank you, my dear Y/N. I’m happy. I truly am.”

[tarasylnin-lavellan]

Justice's Ally

so one of my mutuals characters will be in the next installment the wonderful @w-h-4-t s Harel and she is a HUGE part of this piece since this is very heavily based off of the dialog that she and I ran back and forth for this so thank you lethalan you are amazing

Okay my lovelies here is safe for work recap so that you will be up to speed.

Tara has a terrible dream in which she is chased through a twilight forest. This forest is filled with massive dark crystal formations and trees that seem to stretch up out of sight. She is hunted and attacked by something that resembles the Dread Wolf. After she wakes terrified and half awake she loses the iron control she always keeps. We find out why, she has a spirit bound to her, Cullen reacts badly to this news saying she is an abomination and runs from her.

Tara is left with no choice in order to ensure her own safety she flees Skyhold. She is fleeing for the arbor wilds knowing that she can evade capture there and figure out what in the world she is going to do now.

Now on to the regularly scheduled angst

Dorian had decided that he wanted to read "Draconica the study of Dragon kin." He picked this up rather than the two before it in the stack. "Knowing us we are going to have to fight some scaly monstrosity soon." A small note fell from the pages in the dawn light, and Dorian caught it. His eyes scanned it quickly it was in Tara's precise script. He felt his heart tear at the terse words, "oh no, isa'ma'lan." He felt the outrage rising in him a bitter flame, that bastard ran her off! Dorian stormed toward the tower, people clearing out of his way quickly.

Dorian slammed the door open, and Cullen started violently halfway pulling his blade free. Dorian flicked his hand and all of the doors to the tower locked. "You, bastard if you hurt her so help me," Cullen stood rigid his eyes locked on the younger man. Dorians temper flared " SHE WAS YOUR LOVER, AND MY SISTER!!! THE ONLY FAMILY TO EVER LOVE!" Cullen cut him off his voice harsh and hurt "she is an ABOMINATION!" Dorians face grew dangerous as he looked at the ex templar "HOW DARE YOU!" his hands began to smoke faintly as he clenched them.

Cullen's face contorted in apprehension "You cant even control yourself." He let out a pained breath "maybe Meredith was right, maybe you are all abominations waiting to happen. Cullen looked tired and sad as if he didn't want to believe what he said. Dorians keen eyes caught the doubt in Cullen, he worked to calm the fury and outrage in his heart.

"She has always been like that, you ignorant bastard! She is a miracle not a MONSTER!" Cullen slammed his hands on the desk making things jump crazily. "MAGES its always MAGES WHY you blasted mages keep using me." Cullen's eyes welled with tears of grief, and he gritted his teeth hands shaking on his desk. "USE YOU?! she left to save you!" Dorian waved his hand "ah you are impossible, she was born like that she didn't change your eyes did." Cullen looked up frustration and hurt flashing in his amber eyes, "your glib tongue do you no favors mage!" Dorians hands rested on his hips, "shut up, just shut up and listen to yourself. This is Tara, our Tara, you're calling an abomination you washed up chantry fanatic! You want to call her monster, mage killer? We all have things that we would rather others not know. But Tara is.... SHES DONE EVERYTHING TO MAKE SURE SHE NEVER FALLS INTO A HOLE LIKE THAT BUT YOU you have..."

Cullen scoffed at the mage "you didn't see her, you cannot tell me my eyes have changed." Dorian scoffed right back "let me guess... she woke up screaming and fell out of the bed. And then hmm let me guess a blue light formed from her skin and her eyes glowed blue white." Cullen's eyes widened in surprise "who do you think holds her after those awful nightmares when you aren't around golden boy? My greatest regret is that she'd sacrifice her stupid selfless beautiful soul for an ignorant bastard like you. My beloved sister ran because she knew you would be forced to kill her, TO KILL HER FOR YOUR DAMNED HONOR. She didn't want to put YOU through that not for the sake of her own life! Knowing her she'd let you kill her," at this Cullen's face paled visibly "I see that I am right the damned fool, offered her life in payment, typical." Cullen growled "Enough!" slamming his hand on the desk again in pure emotion. "How HOW am I to look at her.... when all I see is that THING, HOW DO YOU THINK I FEEL!"

Dorian looked at the torn man, "you feel as though she lied to you and used you. We cannot change the fact that Tara didn't tell you of her nature. However we must look at the intent, Commander. Not everything is this rigid black and white you blasted Andrastian's love so much. I will never know the pain you feel right this minute, but I do know that we are missing someone integral in our lives. Someone who has just run to maker knows where to save us." He sniffed in distress " its just like her, isn't it? She loves us so much.... that she would do anything for us....even... at the expense of herself." She would run to her death but she knows, she knows that it would break you to put her down. So she shattered everything she has instead for you. I know the courts Cullen, I know peoples faces from years of living in that snake pit and yours is all too easy to read. You think her cruel for hiding, and terrifying for the albatross. You cannot simply pull all of that love out, you idiot. All those restless nights, up at all hours researching Lyrium addiction and treatments. Her every waking moment, spent looking after your shattering body and mind." Dorian sighed heavily "do you have any idea how many times I had to peel her off her desk because she had passed out there? She is painfully selfless, and in your ignorance and fear you close your heart to her.

In Tevinter she would be accepted she would even be admired for what she is. She is a rare person, a true spirit born, a person who dies but a spirit breathes there own life into to bring back. But here? here she would be killed without question, simply for existing."

"She tried not to love you, the fool, but she simply couldn't help herself. Every day that woman puts up a Fucking WALL, EVERY DAY. And the moment she lets it down you prove her right and tear out her heart. And yet she left for YOU to save you the pain of her death. She would rather you despise her than grieve her. She probably wishes she were truly dead right now."

Cullen's voice was weak and pained "....magic.. exists to..."

"If you finish that sentence, Templar I will have no mercy for you" Dorian snarled. "Don't you dare quote scripture at me, I know spirits, I know those things you call demons. And Tarasyl'nin is not one. Don't. You. Dare. All that wonderful woman has done has been to SERVE others, she asks for nothing in return EVER. You are not out there by her side in battle, she will throw herself in front of anything to protect the innocent. Now tell me Templar is that the actions of an Abomination?"

"STOP IT she lied to me," Cullen barked in response but his heart was wavering desperate to believe. "She lied to protect you, because she adores you. You know our Tara can be a bit abrasive but when she loves, she loves hard. She would do anything for the people she cares for. Why cant you see that? just put the armor and the scripture away for a moment. Take a step back, its Tara, she never truly hid from you, Cullen she only wanted to be loved" Dorians voice hitched on the word loved. "She just wants what all of us want to be loved, for who we are. She tried so hard not to love you, to stay away from you but she couldn't help it. So she tried to protect you to let you think she was...normal. She wanted to protect you from her, HER of all people. The person who would throw herself to her knees and, let you kill her if you thought that was right." Dorians eyes filled with tears and he wiped them away viscously "she knew... the moment that you found out that you would kill her or she would have to run. She made plans to make sure you could never find her." Dorians chest hitched painfully " and now I have lost the only family that loves me." He looked at Cullen sullenly "I wish she had never met you, I tried to warn her damn you."

A heavy silence fell over the pair each lingering in the grief that filled the room like choking smoke. At last Cullen let out a sigh and massaged his forehead, "what is the dem-...the spirit like?"

Dorians eyes widened in astonishment "Pardon?" Cullen let out a slow breath " the spirit, what does it do? or think...or what?" Dorian eyed him warily "you...you actually wish to know?" Cullen looked up at the ceiling "I... rifts are tearing apart the world, A magister god has appeared and I have just learned the woman I love is part spirit. The world cannot get any more mad, perhaps instead of resisting like I have always done.... I... suppose its time to... learn. to get accustomed to this. Besides " Cullen looked down with reddened eyes "I cannot bear to lose the only good thing in my life after so much horror."

Dorian watches Cullen, his eyes discerning and shrewd, "as you wish Commander. Tara told me that she was still born this can happen with twins. Her mother begged the gods for help to save her daughter. Apparently a spirit heard her instead, and a blue white shape wrapped itself around the still child. In that moment she cried out but her eyes glowed faintly blue. The spirit is tethered to her it is all that keeps her alive, it is not so much a voice in her mind as hmm her subconscious. It influences her but cannot control her actions. However it is protective of her much as you beloved hounds are. It will appear in times of great stress and danger, it is the spirits power that she uses in battle. Her power is limited and focused because it is the spirits strength. It inspires her and at the same time, it grates on her taxing her. Think of it as ice melting in water except the ice is melting very very slowly. Its a part of her that is slowly blending into her. She is a living bridge to the fade and all that lies beyond.

Cullen let out an apprehensive breath "what spirit is it?" his hands clenched painfully on the wood. Dorian watched this impassively "It is a strong willed but impartial spirit... Justice... you templars know its darker form I know vengeance. As I recall that fool of a man Anders was possessed by one like it. However the difference is, Tara made no deal she has always been like this. She has grown in the shadow of this burden, she is not some foolhardy apprentice looking for power. She would rather destroy herself, than let the spirit corrupt her, as I fear she may now."

Cullen's eyes fly wide and he pales visibly "makers breath....we have to find her! The inquisition! the.. the... Tara.. she is out there!! Alone!" Cullen franticly tried to gather things, seemingly without direction. Dorian chuckled faintly at the man, "you are proposing that we attempt to find a Dalish woman, in the forest, with a head start no less?" Cullen whirled looking frantic " what other choice do we have? If we send a raven, it will not know where to find her! We... there has to be some way, makers breath if only she had a phylactery." Dorian cut him off "you honestly want to talk about that horrid practice after every thing we just discussed?" "The Inquisition needs her! Cullen interjected and Dorian scowled " never suggest a phylactery again.”

Now thankfully I have already sent out two expert trackers." "Some of Leliana's people?" Dorian waved a manicured hand at the question "Oh void no, people that can sense spirits much better than your Templars or soldiers ever could." "Cullen swallowed heavily "we have to get her back post haste." Dorians eyes glimmered in response "ha, look at you just a moment ago you were screaming bloody murder and now, he has become a knight again, Good show!" His eyes became level in a moment "I need to know that she will be safe, before I even consider letting them TRY to bring her back."

Cullen hung his head and responded "I will not harm her, of that you have my word....I....I just want her to return for the inquisitions sake. Dorian cleared his throat pointedly "....and for mine." "Lets hope Harel and Cole can find her then, I do not wish to live without my sister. Cullen's emotions crowded his mind "and.... I don't want to..." Dorian sighed dramatically "by the black Devine's breeches, you Ferelden men cant take even a little emotion."

[roast-ifs]

First of all: the update! Holy moly it was incredible! (I usually go for the Romance first but the friend scene with Nico? So tender I motherfucking CRIED! Incredible!) Anyway, I was just wondering how the friendship stat apply to the progression of the romance. Would a high friendship = "easy" romance/more willing to romance or does that have more to do with the flirt choices and the amiability stat? 1/2

I love all of Nico’s scenes and the hated past relationship--guys, if you have a higher than 40% friendship w/Nico... try it out, it’s good times ;) (but in reality I might compile all the dialog bits from that scene and post them somewhere for people to see the differences bc it’s personality trait based and all of them are great)

So, the friendship stat isn’t going to ping too much on the romance, its actually used more as a ping for the cruelty route and negative relationship development bc if the relationship is below 40% its bad times. It will be a ping on friendship scenes in the future...once I figure out balancing issues.

Romance, however, is counted with an invisible counter that tracks how many times you choose the romance options but I’m also going to introduce a romantic intent variable [as I talked about earlier today] that is going to be what counts for romance moreso than the friendship meter.

The amiability vs. rivalry also has nothing to do with the romance! That is the variable I use to track which dialogs should be spoken. For example, if you pick this choice at the end of the current demo:

“ #I'm glad to be friends with Nico. Or, at least, to keep working at that.“ you’ll see a dialog that changes based on your rivalry vs. amiability

“ $!{nico_xhe} grins, "I am too. *if nico_rvl >= 50 even though I know we don't see eye to eye on everything, *if nico_rvl < 50 I know we get along pretty well, all things considered,“

So rivalry and amiability are just testing your characters values vs. the character you’re interacting with. Nico follows the rules, or at least tries to, is a diplomatic character, and so will gain rivalry points with someone who breaks the rules or isn’t as diplomatic. This isn’t wrong, just different, and a high rivalry romance is entirely possible!

But yeah! The game isn’t very statsy and I don’t plan on changing that. The most stats ever checked are the personality stats. The ways to lock out of a romance is to pursue someone else to a point where its obvious that that’s the person you want, and so if you flip to pursuing someone else everyone will be confused, shocked, or upset, considering how much intent you poured into the other RO.

Other ways include going down the cruelty route, as that will cause your character to change viscerally and in a way that none of the RO’s want to get involved with (that being said, you can pursue a romance and then make a sudden tragic character flip onto the cruelty route that will shock and appall your lover--at least, that’s the plan!! Don’t quote me on that!! lol)

And, finally, by having a below 40% friendship meter. This is something that needs balancing and honestly I just need to go through the whole game and fix stuff on the friendship meterage bc its a mess atm. But yeah, rn I have it set up that if you’re below a 40, you’ve made choices that were deliberately mean or cruel or explicitly unfriendly, obtuse, or frustrating, to the RO in question. Basically, it should be VERY HARD to get below 40% if you play without the intent of being a dick. BUT I have not playtested it and don’t know for sure about that--but that is my intention :p

[lady-divine-writes]

Trust (Rated NC17)

Summary: After close to a decade of not seeing one another, a box shows up at Aziraphale's bookshop, its contents a reminder of emotional wounds ...

... and a cry for help. (4931 words)

Notes: So yeah, apparently I lied when I said I was finished writing au's based off of @whiteleyfoster's 'Prince of Omens'. This idea hit me quite out of the blue, that by creating the Prince of Omens au, it sort of altered the timeline of the original story, which then led me to imagine filling in the gaps of history with stories starring this version of the characters. This takes place, I would say, sometime between the Blitz and the 60s, which may have fed into some of the decisions taken place by the characters between that time. Plus, I thought it was a very romantic, touching, and hot moment for the two of them, being sniffed out by Hell. Anyway, let me know what you all think <3

Read on AO3.

Please say you trust me.

Those are the only words written on the gold card tucked inside the box that shows up at Aziraphale’s bookshop on Thursday afternoon, packed alongside a few other choice items: a white blindfold, a pair of golden handcuffs, and a hotel room key. There’s no return address on the box, no name on the card, only the initials AJC.

But Aziraphale didn’t need those.

He knew.

Before he opened the box and saw its contents, he knew who’d sent it.

He could sense Crowley’s magical signature all over it.

Aziraphale examines the contents for a long while, his heart pounding in his chest. They’re not a random collection of offerings. Aside from how Crowley means them, each one is symbolic.

The white blindfold harks back to the ribbon that has become so sacred to Crowley - the one Aziraphale tied around the plant he gave the demon back in Egypt.

The meaning behind the cuffs comes from around that same time.

Standing on the banks of the Red Sea, watching Moses tend to his flock of the faithful as they readied themselves for the journey on, Crowley had gazed across the water in the direction they’d come, the bitterest, sweetest expression of sorrow on his handsome face.

“What is it, my dear?” Aziraphale had asked. “Why do you seem so melancholy? All’s well that ends well, don’t you think?”

“How is it,” he’d said, staring at the water, unable to look Aziraphale in the eye, “that I can continue to be such a tremendous failure?”

“How can you say that!? None of these people would have been able to escape Pharaoh if not for you! You’re a hero!”

“But just as many lost their lives because of me! Because I was too arrogant to be specific with my instructions! But that’s just who I am … what I do …”

“No, my dear …” Aziraphale put a hand on his arm “… that’s not true at all. Stop saying that … please …”

Crowley turned to Aziraphale but with eyes shut, unable to take his kindness, accept his sympathy.

“It’s humbling. They showered me with riches, built me a temple. I’d planted myself as a God among them so I could stir up a little mischief, but they tempted me. And like an idiot, I fell for it.” Crowley shook his head. “To be brought to my knees, have that torn away … it makes me realize what I really am. What I’ve been all along.”

“Lesson learned then,” Aziraphale said. Crowley’s eyes snapped open, heartbreak dulling their shimmering gold depths. “Because you are what you should be. And that’s free.”

Crowley’s brow furrowed. “W-what do you mean?”

“The temple, those clothes, the gold - they had strings attached. They kept you beholden to Pharaoh. Turned you into a slave.” Aziraphale shifted Crowley’s gaze away from the water and aimed it towards the land, to the people gathered there. “By doing what you did, helping these people, enduring, suffering … you’re not a slave anymore. Not to Pharaoh. You’re free.”

Aziraphale recalls those words, the smile they’d brought to Crowley’s face, the embrace that followed, the dozen kisses and more … and he frowns.

Because where it’s true that Crowley freed himself from Egypt, he’s still a servant.

As is Aziraphale.

They’re both in the same boat - conscripted to a higher power that commands their moves, often using them as pawns.

Or worse.

As toys.

And they play with them the way spoiled children do.

Roughly.

If they break, Heaven and Hell will consign them to the bottom of the toy box and find new angels and demons to replace them.

Aziraphale has a sinking suspicion that’s part of what’s going on now - Hell commanding its servant, holding his feet to the fire. But to do what, Aziraphale hasn’t a clue.

The words written on the card are a linchpin.

Please say you trust me.

Aziraphale had said something similar to Crowley when they’d made love in his temple and he’d used his precious white ribbon on him as a blindfold.

Crowley repeated the sentiment back to him when God sent Death to reap the first born. Death would have reaped Crowley, too, if not for Aziraphale. Crowley promised he would try to save the innocent but that Aziraphale needed to have faith in him.

Aziraphale said - “Always, my dear.”

Faith.

Trust.

Aziraphale and Crowley had known one another for 2500 years by the time they met up in Egypt, but it was during that time that Aziraphale truly learned to trust Crowley. Crowley had been gifted Aziraphale’s trust during the years they spent watching over Moses. He lost it, but earned it back in spades. Since then, he’s run to Aziraphale’s rescue time and time again, saving him from beheadings, bombings …

… re-assignment.

And despite this cloak-and-dagger, Aziraphale trusts Crowley now.  

Aziraphale didn’t know Crowley was in town. They hadn’t seen one another in close to a decade. Aziraphale knew Crowley would turn up one of these days, but not like this.

He holds out hope the objects in the box are for pleasure, but he’s sure they’re for business. Trust or no, that makes him nervous. He doesn’t like not knowing what’s in store for him. The real torture will be in waiting, guessing.

But, luckily, not too long.

Aziraphale finds out the following night.

He had no idea when Crowley would call for him. He’d hoped Crowley would come for him himself - show up on his doorstep in a smart black suit, all seductive secrets and sly smiles.

A car comes for him instead, driven by a human chauffeur.

A block away from the hotel, he senses them.

Demons.

Lots of them.

Lurking around corners, hiding in the shadows, ducking out of sight.

Watching him arrive.

Even on this main thoroughfare bustling with people, there are more demons around than he’s ever felt in a single place.

His body goes cold.

“Long night?” Aziraphale asks the driver, making small talk to keep his mind off of whatever’s waiting for him ahead. It feels like a trap, every molecule of his celestial form screaming at him to get out of the car and run, that he’s been betrayed. But he can’t think like that. Crowley wouldn’t put him in harm’s way.

He has to believe heart and soul he wouldn’t.

Especially not after that note.

Please say you trust me.

“You could say that.”

“Where are you headed after this, my dear?”

“I’ve been hired on for the night by the blokes who hired me to get you,” the man says, peeking at Aziraphale through the rear view. “Good thing, too. Heaven knows I need the money.”

“Hard times, hmm?”

“It’s my daughter Liza,” the man says with a lump in his throat. “She’s come down sick. The doctors here don’t know what to do for her. We’re hoping to take her to the states. We’ve heard there are doctors there that can help her.”

“I see.” Aziraphale scans the streets around them. Something doesn’t feel right (on top of everything else that already doesn’t feel right). Evil clings to this man, though, in his heart, he is good.

It’s not him, Aziraphale discovers as he reaches out with his angelic senses. It’s the company he keeps. He’s been hired by demons. Not Crowley but others. They’ve promised him a great deal of money to be their errand boy - escort prostitutes around the city and deliver some dangerous packages to some powerful people.

But they have no intention of paying him.

Because he will not survive the night.

He’s disposable. A nobody in the grand scheme. That’s why they hired him. That’s what the demons are counting on - cruel since demons can masquerade as humans and do their own dirty work.

But it’s loads more fun to trick some unsuspecting mortal to do it for them.

In the end, after he’s taken part in some shady deals (unbeknownst to him) they’ll have his soul for Hell. It’s a demonic loophole. (They have enough lawyers to ensure them it’s sound.) And even though Aziraphale wants to maintain a low profile, he can’t let this happen.

The chauffeur pulls up to the curb in front of The Savoy and puts his car into park.

“Here we are,” he says, looking over his shoulder at Aziraphale. “Do you need help up to your room or …?”

“Not at all, young man.” Aziraphale reaches into his pocket and pulls out a rolled-up wad of notes bound together by a rubber band. The driver waits patiently for Aziraphale to count out his tip. His eyes blow wide when Aziraphale hands him the entire thing.

“I … are you serious, sir?”

“Yes,” Aziraphale says with a smile. “For a job well done. Best ride I’ve had in ages.”

“I … I can’t accept this!” the man says, an expression of pain passing over his face as a voice in his head - probably his wife’s - screams, ‘Yes, you can, you idiot! Don’t argue!’ “I only drove you twelve city blocks!”

“You can accept it, and you will.” Aziraphale snaps his fingers, using a little angelic magic to cease any more arguing. “And now you’re going to drive straight home, pack your family up, and head to the airport. Get on board TWA flight 530 to Los Angeles, and get your daughter well.”

A second snap of his fingers sees to that. Liza will greet her father at the door to their humble flat completely cancer free. But Aziraphale needs to get him and his family out of town. He knows what will happen when the demons discover this man has skipped out on his duties.

Needless to say, they won’t be happy.

“Thank you, sir! I … I don’t know how I could ever re-pay you!”

“I do. Forget you ever saw me. And forget the men who hired you.” Aziraphale snaps one last time, gets out of the car, and heads for the front door. He pauses when he hears the car pull away from the curb, watching it drive off into the night. If a demon ever does manage to catch up with him, they should be able to tell that his mind has been wiped by an angel. That and the fact that he’s blessed should keep them off his back.

Aziraphale shows his key to the doorman, who directs him to the room he needs. He declines any more offers of help and continues on alone.

For a Friday night, it’s pretty mellow at The Savoy. Most everyone is out on the town, living it up. Which means no one notices the middle-aged man in the cream-colored coat slip down the hallway and take the elevator to the top floor.

No one will notice if he disappears.

He starts out with shoulders squared and head held high, carrying the box Crowley sent him tucked under one arm. But as he walks down the quiet hall, the demonic smell growing stronger and more pungent with every step, the box creeps out from underneath his arm to his chest where he hugs it close.

He stops in front of the door and fits the key in the lock, his hands shaking as he does. He breathes out slowly, counts to three. He hasn’t even unlocked the door but he feels him on the other side.

Crowley.

In this room.

Waiting for him.

Crowley summoned him here and now Aziraphale is about to turn himself over to him.

Him and about a dozen other demons.

His heart double-thumps with excitement.

His head swims with fear.

He unlocks the door, pushes it open.

It opens unto darkness.

“Hello?” he calls inside, reluctant to take a step in but he knows he must.

Please say you trust me.

Those words ring in his ears. They aren’t simple words, not easy. They have weight to them, a history.

They’re a plea.

It’s not until he closes the door behind him that he notices Crowley’s silhouette standing beside the foot of a large bed over by the window.

The door locks behind him without him touching it.

It’s more than a bit unsettling.

Aziraphale walks over to the bed and sets the box down .

“Crowley?” he says, waiting for the demon to acknowledge his arrival in any way. Aziraphale wants to rush into his arms, kiss him on the mouth, whisper words of love against his skin.

But a voice in his mind tells him this isn’t the time for that.

It’s ridiculous. He knows he’s in very real danger of being discorporated but he can’t help noticing … Crowley looks stunning. He’s been growing his hair out. It’s not long yet, but it’s not short either. It’s just long enough for Aziraphale to run his fingers through, wind the strands around and pull him close. He’s dressed for bed - barefoot, black pajama pants, and shirtless, the planes of his chest and his flat stomach on enticing display. Even his scar - that horrible scar from Aziraphale’s flaming sword - looks delicious in this low light.

Positively kissable.

And he’s not wearing his glasses. Not hiding his eyes.

Though he’s never had to hide his eyes from Aziraphale.

Crowley doesn’t look at Aziraphale as the angel inches closer, eyes searching his face for an explanation. Aziraphale gets within touching distance, but Crowley takes a step away.

“Take off your clothes,” he commands.

“Wh-what?”

“What’s wrong, principality? Did I stutter?”

“No,” Aziraphale says, fighting to maintain a composure that’s a feather’s touch away from shattering like a plate glass window, “you didn’t. But I …”

“Then be a good little angel and obey. Maybe you haven’t noticed but you’re not the one in control. You have no power here.”

Snickers travel around the room and from the strangest of locations: in a closet, under the bed, on the ceiling. Aziraphale doesn’t look up to check. If there is a demon hanging from the chandelier above him, he’d rather not see it with his own eyes.

Stunned into silence like Crowley slapped him in the face, Aziraphale slips off his coat and lays it on the bed, then reaches for his shirt. With every button he undoes, his mind reels, searching for a solution. From the smell of this place, there are demons everywhere - in the room, in the hallway, on the street outside. So running is not an option. He could miracle his way out, but that would cause a paper trail he’d have to explain to Gabriel, which would lead to three possible outcomes: one - Gabriel reprimands Aziraphale for the use of a frivolous miracle (because, apparently, saving himself is considered frivolous); two - this incident starts a battle with Hell, which may not end well for Earth as a whole; or three - Gabriel presses Hell for answers and Hell offers up Crowley as a sacrifice.

Aziraphale can’t risk hurting Crowley any more than he could risk hurting Earth. Plus, that would leave Crowley at the mercy of Hell since his mission would have failed.

Aziraphale has no choice but to play along and hope that an explanation comes to light.

He’ll keep you safe. He won’t hurt you. He’ll explain this to you. Trust him.

“Everything,” Crowley says when Aziraphale stops at his pants, his voice undeniably softer when he says, “I want to see everything.”

That softness, more than anything, encourages Aziraphale on.

When Aziraphale has completely undressed, Crowley approaches. His eyes - a serpent’s eyes from rim to rim where they’d normally appear a bit more human - are uncharacteristically unforgiving, but Aziraphale doesn’t miss the subtle once over Crowley gives him, how it causes him to miss a step.

Crowley reaches out a hand. Aziraphale thinks he’s reaching for him, his body starving for his touch. For a second, Crowley seems to consider it. But he grabs the box instead. He opens it, exposing its contents. He reaches inside and pulls out the golden handcuffs. He grabs Aziraphale’s wrists, locking them in front of him.

“C-Crowley? What’s going on?” Aziraphale asks, starting to get nervous, the other demons in the room an ominous presence even though he doesn’t see them. “You’re going a bit fast for me.”

Crowley leads Aziraphale to the bed, maneuvers him like a dog on a leash by the chain of those handcuffs, has him climb up on it and kneel on the mattress. Then he takes Aziraphale by the chin and stares deep into his eyes. “Pay attention, principality, because I won’t tell you again.” Crowley starts to speak, posturing on about how Aziraphale is his prisoner, how he’s there to serve him, please him, bend to his whims. Aziraphale hears him, his words playing in the corner of his mind like a scratchy record on an ancient gramophone, warped and skipping, out of tune.

But what he hears louder than that are the words Crowley projects to the forefront of his brain.

Words that tremble, steeped in fear.

‘I need your help, angel. Please? Do what I say? They’re watching.’

Aziraphale sees Crowley gulp, feels his own throat ache with the bob of his Adam’s apple.

Crowley’s power is fueled by his imagination. That’s one of the things that makes him unique among demons. Aziraphale and Crowley had discovered long ago that he can make Aziraphale hear whatever he wants him to hear, even over long distances.

He’s using that power now to communicate with him.

‘I know you feel them. I can’t explain but I promise, I won’t let them hurt you. I swear it.’

Crowley takes the blindfold out of the box and starts tying it over Aziraphale’s eyes.

‘I … I don’t understand, Crowley,’ Aziraphale thinks, knowing Crowley will hear.

‘I’ll explain later but please … please say you trust me.’

Aziraphale nods. ‘Always, my dear.’

‘And no matter what I say … know that I love you.’

‘I do.’

Crowley knots the blindfold twice - once to secure it, a second time to stall, giving him a moment to gather the courage he needs to say what’s coming next.

‘I need to compel your wings. They want to see them. They want to see me … force you to reveal them.’

Aziraphale shudders, memories of having his wings ripped into existence by other demons flooding his thoughts.

Crowley sees. His hands ball into fists.

Having one’s wings compelled can be an uncomfortable, even painful business.

It’s also the ultimate humiliation.

But for Crowley, Aziraphale would do practically anything.

‘Of course. Just … be careful.’

‘I will,” Crowley promises, his voice thick with curses and a deep hatred of himself that Aziraphale can’t help but feel. He wishes he could put a comforting hand on his shoulder and give him strength.

With any luck, there will be time for that later.

Aziraphale breathes in deep, trying to relax when he sees Crowley raise a hand. Aziraphale closes his eyes, surrenders control of his wings to Crowley, telling himself it will be okay.

He’s with Crowley. His Crowley. The Crowley he’s known and loved for thousands of years. They’ll get past this hurdle, attack the next.

They’ll get through this together.

The pinch in his shoulder blades feels all too familiar and almost sends him into a panic. He recedes deeper into himself, reminds himself of better times he’s had with Crowley in bed. The room goes silent, the demons observing on the edge of their seats, captivated by the events unfolding in front of them. In the midst of that silence, Aziraphale can hear his own heartbeat.

Immediately following, he hears Crowley’s.

Then their breathing mixed together, the mingling of it bringing a wash of calm to Aziraphale’s mind. A blue glow builds beneath his skin, filling the room, casting eerie shadows of the hiding demons across the floor.

Then his wings begin to appear.

With his eyes closed behind the blindfold, Aziraphale doesn’t see the glow, can’t notice the demons. He feels the heat of Crowley’s power sink into his skin, spiral through his body, coaxing his wings out of hiding with the caress of hands born of fire.

Aziraphale gasps when his wings break free and unfurl, a completion in its own right.

An intensely intimate, highly erotic experience.

Aziraphale stretches his wings when Crowley relinquishes control of them. It is part of the dress code for angels on Earth to keep them hidden, but he feels comforted by them. They soothe him, give him a sense of security.

‘Aziraphale …’

Crowley’s voice pierces its way through Aziraphale’s calm. It’s both welcome and a harsh reminder that this isn’t the end of their ordeal. There’s more to come.

‘Yes?’

‘I need to … umm …’

‘Just tell me, my dear. I’ll do whatever it takes to get us out of this.’

Crowley hems and haws, but he can’t find the strength to say. ‘They’ll want it to look like I’m forcing you.’

‘Do what you must.’

Aziraphale could very well choose to see through the blindfold but he decides not to. He stays in the moment with Crowley, let’s the suspense of his next move well up within him, give the demons in the dark the smell of his anticipation to feast on while they mistake it for fear.

He hears a rustle of fabric, feels Crowley’s hand on his head, a whimper rising from the demon’s throat.

He doesn’t want to do this. Aziraphale knows he doesn’t want to do this.

Crowley pushes down, dragging Aziraphale’s head to his crotch. Aziraphale pretends to struggle. But when he feels the head of Crowley’s cock nudge his lips, he forgets to protest, forgets that they’re in anything even close to danger.

Because he loves Crowley. Crowley loves him.

And it’s been too long since they’ve had one another.

Aziraphale opens his mouth and slowly, ever so slowly, slides down over him, licking along the way, the way he knows Crowley likes, doing his part to remind him that they’re in this together, that he’s with him whatever it takes.

Crowley threads trembling fingers through Aziraphale’s hair, bites his tongue to keep from moaning Aziraphale’s name. He thrusts up with his hips, pushes down lightly, his body begging with every twitch for Aziraphale to go faster.

For him to get this over with, put him out of his misery.

Because Crowley has dreamt of this - just this - since the last time they saw one another.

It’s cruel that he should get it now in front of prying eyes.

He rises to his knees, putting his hands on Aziraphale’s head and taking over, assaulting his mouth shallowly, trying to make it appear to the eyes around him that he’s fucking his mouth, violating him, hurting him. He doesn’t do this to his angel. He’s never done this to him. He wouldn’t.

But it’d be too easy.

It feels too good.

Not just the physical sensation of Aziraphale’s mouth around him, but the pushing him.

The forcing him.

The demon inside him rises up with each thrust, whispers in his ears to snap his hips harder, push in farther, hold Aziraphale’s head flush against him till tears leak from his eyes with the strain of his corporal form holding its breath.

But he can’t do that, he repeats to himself. He won’t do that. He won’t give in.

He won’t become like the owners of those coal black eyes watching them.

“Stop,” Crowley mumbles, mostly to himself, slipping out of Aziraphale’s mouth, regretting it the moment the cool air touches his skin. “That’s not how I want to finish. Hands and knees. Now, angel!”

‘Tell me to stop,’ he projects, ‘then beg me not to. Really sell it.’

“You … you can’t do this!” Aziraphale scrambles to obey, rolling onto his hands and knees. And even though this is fake, his nerves scatter, wondering about the origin of the edge in Crowley’s voice.

The fiery yellow simmer in his eyes, the one he’d glimpsed before the blindfold.

“Please, Crowley! I … I’m begging you! Don’t …”

“Sorry, angel. I want this too much. I need this too much.”

Crowley doesn’t give Aziraphale time to get comfortable. He grabs him, shoves his face to the sheets, spreads his cheeks apart, lines his cock with the angel’s entrance, and pushes in. Pushes hard.

It doesn’t hurt, but Aziraphale cries out.

Crowley curls black painted nails into the soft skin of Aziraphale’s hips, leaving bruises that rival the scars on his back. But even through this facade of violence, Aziraphale feels Crowley’s love. He still tries to make this good for Aziraphale. Crowley leans forward, presses the odd kiss against his skin, plays with speed and angles, searching out new spots that will make Aziraphale’s eyes roll, his back arch and his toes curl, make him moan louder despite himself. The thought that others are watching should make Aziraphale burn with embarrassment but he doesn’t care.

It’s been so long.

And he’s missed Crowley so much.

“No …” Aziraphale whispers, the fight fading from his voice. “Don’t … stop … d-don’t stop …”

“I claim you, angel,” Crowley growls. “Soon you’ll feel my fire inside of you. From this day forward, you can never escape me. I’ll be able to find you from here to the ends of the Earth. You’re mine. You belong to me.”

“Oh …” Aziraphale squeaks. Crowley’s words sound rehearsed but they feel real.

Like a vow.

“Yes,” Aziraphale moans beyond improvisation. “Yes, I … I belong to you. Claim me, demon …” he continues, his voice dissolving into gasps. “Claim me … I’m yours …”

Crowley shudders at those words.

‘Oh, Aziraphale.’

‘Crowley …’

‘I love you …’

‘I love you, too.’

“Oh,” Aziraphale sighs. “Oh Go---”

Crowley grabs a handful of Aziraphale’s hair, pulls his head back and crashes their mouths together before he can finish. “She’s not here right now,” he says, his voice heavy with anger and regret. “Your words belong to me, angel. Your moans, your whimpers, they’re mine. Say it!”

“They’re … they’re yours. All yours. I …”

Crowley cuts him off with a kiss, his body shaking as he comes inside his angel. Aziraphale follows, his knees giving out, sliding out from under him. He lands on his belly with Crowley on top of him.

His favorite position to be in, all things considered.

Through his orgasmic haze and the utter joy of coming in Crowley’s arms, he hears a mass of uncomfortable whispering, some sinister laughter, and one derisive snort.

Aziraphale feels the demons retreat, slide into the shadows, evaporating into the black.

“They’re … they’re satisfied,” Crowley pants, the relief in his voice seeping through Aziraphale’s skin and winding around his heart. “They’re going back to Hell. Hastur isn’t happy about it but they … they won’t hurt us.”

Hastur.

Aziraphale’s breath hitches.

Hastur was there.

A Duke of Hell.

Aziraphale had convinced himself that the demons in the room were minions. Underlings. He had no reason to believe that, really. No proof. It’s simply something he assumed.

But Hastur?

Who else had been there? Who else had watched?

Beelzebub maybe?

Will they report to Satan?

To the Archangels!?

Aziraphale knows that some of the higher demons do.

Will Michael find out? Uriel?

Will Gabriel?

Too soon, the warm glow of satiation, of being wrapped in Crowley’s arms again, his cock buried inside his body, siphons into the chill around them.

“I … I don’t want to stay here,” Aziraphale says, starting to shiver.

“Neither do I.” Crowley unfurls his own wings. He curls them around Aziraphale, wrapping them both up tight. Then, with a snap of his fingers, angel and demon disappear.

***

“It was a test,” Crowley explains, lying side by side with his angel in a different bed, a different room, grooming Aziraphale’s wings with careful fingers. “I wasn’t performing up to par for Hastur. I failed my performance review.” He chuckles. “First time in history. So I had to come up with something big. Something that would get them off my back for a few centuries.” From behind, arms wrapped around him, his chest pressed to Aziraphale’s back, Aziraphale feels Crowley swallow hard. “Hastur was adamant it was your fault. My associations with you, no matter how few and far between, were making me soft. They were planning on coming after you to get to me. I had to do something to get us both off their radar. Corrupting an angel …” Another hard swallow “… was the worst thing I could think of.”

Aziraphale smirks. “Little do they know I corrupted you a long time ago, my dear.”

“It was selfish, a-and it was wrong,” Crowley stumbles. “And I’m …”

Aziraphale tilts his head back, kisses Crowley gently on the lips. “I didn’t despise it, my love. I quite like role-playing with you. Maybe, someday, we could do it again. When it’s just you and me.”

“I didn’t want to turn you into a spectacle,” Crowley says, refusing to let Aziraphale absolve him so easily. “That wasn’t my intention. I didn’t want to humiliate you. I just … I didn’t know what else to do. I …”

Aziraphale kisses Crowley again when he feels tears roll down his cheeks that aren’t his own.

“You kept me safe,” Aziraphale whispers. “The way you promised. And I’m not going to lose you. We won’t lose each other. It was worth it.”

[fbdo1986]

so idk if you’ve done it yet but #5 on that prompt list w ot3 i think wld be beautiful 🥺💞💖

I hi yes!!! i finally got to the actual first prompts you sent!!! thank you for this lovely lovely request!! i took a few liberties with how to interpret the prompt but i really hope you like it (it’s actually quite long, whoops!) 

so here it is! prompt #5: where it doesn’t hurt with the ot3! (yes, all three this time!) which i’ve aptly titled firestarter, after the haley blais song by the same name. (which i definitely recommend listening to while reading, it fits so well.) because it’s so long it will be after the cut!

I step back from the fire

I learned to keep my distance, the path of least resistance 

Cameron’s chest aches with the feeling it always has, he guesses. Or always had. It’s hard to tell the difference, or remember, when suddenly your present reality is much more memorable than the past. It’s pretty insufferable, in some ways, and certifiably pathetic in others. He doesn’t know how long he’s been like this, but it’s not going anywhere. That he knows.

It’s a million and one unhealthy, wounding adjectives all balled into one—that’s the consistent Cameron Frye experience as of late. Harsher, in the way they seep, much further than any of the words his father could spit at him. Yet, when all your brain seems programmed to do is to wish, incessantly, that you were kissing your two best friends every moment you’re with them, a response this cruel almost seems tame. He can mind the ache, but such an animalistic urge feels particularly unsettling.

It’s unbearable. Not their company, that’s always been the saving grace of the situation, but such a need. A sensation so physical, so innate, that his body begs for it, that it distracts him when he’s right in front of them, so much that he can barely stand sitting there sometimes, is too much to handle. 

And it worsens, every day, because now he’s not just hiding his feelings from them, but he’s hiding this too. And he’s never had anyone else. That’s the catch. He has them. It either stays inside, or it goes to them. The latter is an outright impossibility, but as the weight grows and grows, what choice does he have? Until he remembers. It’s a long shot, completely, but even such a fraction of hope takes a much needed weight off of his shoulders.

“You have to swear. Look, I don’t really need these types of precautions every day, but I need your complete and total confidence.” He looks Jeanie Bueller dead in the eyes from where he sits across from her. It’s funny, in a way. Jeanie is his oldest friend, aside from Ferris. And that he needs someone to keep a secret for him. He’s lucky, he doesn’t really have use for secret keepers after Ferris and Sloane start having that magical ability on him that makes him want to share the things he only kept for himself. Nowadays, his secrets are either his or they’re theirs.

“Jesus! What’s gotten into you?” Jeanie interrogates. “Barely any hello, and suddenly you’re getting all intense on me. Are you feeling alright?” Her brows furrow. 

“Yeah, Jean, I’m alright.” He tries to make himself relax, but it’s a fruitless task. “I just… I don't really have anyone else to talk to about this, and well, I trust you.”

“It’s about my brother, isn’t it?” She lays it on him bluntly. There’s no bullshitting Jeanie.

“How did you know?” His face reddens.

“It’s pretty easy to realize that if a guy can’t turn to his childhood best friend for something, it’s gotta be about him. Besides, I can be objective.” She smiles at herself for that one.

“I mean, it’s about Ferris… and Sloane.” That confuses her. As far as Jeanie knows, he goes to them with everything. She doesn’t think that there’s anything wrong with their friendship, they seem happy, so who is she to wonder? 

“Just… don’t get ahead of yourself just yet, okay? I’m trusting you with a lot here. Like, a lot.” Cameron hangs his head, defeated. “Just swear, okay?”

“Fine, fine. I’m swearing.”

“I mean, be serious here, Jeanie!” He leans forward, hands gripping the armrests of the chair he sits in tightly.

“I am being serious!” She blows out a breath of air sharply. “I’m sorry. I’m glad you trust me. You can trust me.”

His shoulders lower in a sigh. He’s satisfied, but that doesn’t stop the swirling pit of anxiousness that inhabits his stomach from reminding him of its presence. He thinks that maybe this is the first step to getting rid of the bullshit that’s made his life so much more difficult these past few weeks, so he’s got to be willing to let that process happen. The sooner he can let it out, the sooner he can start moving forward.

“I don’t even know where to start.” He’s already overwhelmed, and all signs really do point to abandoning ship.

“Wherever feels best,” Jeanie offers him in support. It’d be weird to try and offer a hand on his shoulder now, since there’s quite a few feet of space in between them, so she gives him a small smile instead.

A few moments pass where neither of them say anything. Quickly Cameron realizes he hasn’t even made up his mind of how much he wants to say, let alone where to begin. He doesn’t know if the beginning means the beginning, in which case the two of them will be here for a while. He thinks they might be anyway, because he’s absolutely stalling, so he just needs to say something. Anything.

“I need your help. Because… because part of this I can live with, and part of it I can’t. I’ll get to that, eventually, I guess.”

“Is everything okay? Are you guys okay?” She inquires. She means a fight, if they’ve fought. As though they need fixing up of broken pieces. He wishes it were that simple.

“Yeah, no, we’re fine. I mean, we’re not fighting or anything.” He’s awful at clarifying. “Fuck. You know what, no. I don’t want to put you through this. This is stupid.” He starts getting up from where he’s sitting.

“Come on, Cameron. You haven’t even told me what it is yet. I want to help you.” She looks at him solidly. Her eyes, the color of Ferris’s, reflect how genuine she is.

“Okay. No, you’re right.” He lowers himself back into his seat, and she does what Ferris does so well, communicating without saying anything. She’s leaning forward, her elbow propped on top of her knee, and her chin sits on top of her fist. He can hear it: ‘So…?’

A big breath in. “I’m in love with Ferris and Sloane. And I have been for months now.” He knows it’s been longer, but this is when he first started acknowledging it. “And, and I’m okay with that. I think. I’ve gotten used to sitting with it. I just… there are things that I’ve been experiencing recently… that aren’t as easy to deal with.” The same breath out. 

“So you were right. That was a lot.” Her voice raises, drawing out the phrase a bit.

Cameron covers his face out of embarrassment and dread. Jeanie flounders, trying to let him know what she means. “But that’s okay.” She breathes out a sigh, looking at him intently. She wants him to do the same. “What do you need help with?”

He follows her orders, breathing out. His pulse slows. “You don’t mind?”

She smiles at him. “Of course I don’t. There’s nothing wrong with loving someone. Even if it’s two people. So, let me in. What do you need?” 

“Basically…” He forces himself to get the words out quickly. “It’s gotten… bad. So bad that I… all I can think about is wanting to kiss them. It-it’s like I need to. Sometimes it gets hard to even just sit there. Like my body is begging me to do it. I can’t stand it.” Jeanie notices the way he’s digging at the fabric of his shirt, the way his eyes narrow in disgust as he looks inside himself.

He brings his eyes up to her finally, desperately. “I need you to help me get rid of that. That… feeling.” He clenches his fists.

“I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but something tells me that it’s gonna stay unless you deal with it. Plus, it’s kind of romantic. To love someone that much.”

“Yeah, sure. ‘Romantic’ is what keeps me awake at night in self hatred. It feels wrong. I feel wrong.”

“Cameron, please. You’re a really sweet guy. You’re not a creep, you’re literally trying to stop yourself from doing what you’re not sure they want. Don’t do that to yourself.”

“What choice do I have?” He’s desperate for a solution. 

“Telling them.”

“Yeah, right.” He scoffs. “The only way that would be a possibility is if I do it on April Fool’s Day and back out if they don’t reciprocate.”

“You know, that’d be kind of hilarious if I didn’t know you were serious.”A smile forms on her face, but it disappears just as quickly as it came. “But also kinda fucked up.” 

Cameron looks at her, eyes full of irritation and defeat.

“Look. I think the thing you should be most concerned about is just the fact that they’re in a relationship.”

“What’re you saying?”

“I’m saying, I think you’d have a pretty good chance with either of them if they were single.”

“Even Ferris?” He’s clueless as to how she can actually believe that. 

“Hey, contrary to popular belief, I’m not exactly up to date on my brother’s personal life. Especially who he’s going out with. That is completely none of my business. He does lots of stuff I don’t know about. The guy has no moral compass. He’s completely unburdened by the weight of modern society.”

Cameron’s heart skips a beat. “So you think it’s immoral?”

“Of course not! All I’m saying is Ferris doesn’t give two shits about what other people think of him. I’m pretty sure the only opinions he cares about are yours and Sloane’s.” 

“That’s funny. He did consult me before asking her out.”

“Did that… upset you?”

“I mean, no. I’m glad that he trusts my opinion that much. I couldn’t have him say no. I knew.”

“So that means you…”

“Had feelings for Sloane then? Yeah. I loved her since the moment I met her.”

“And Ferris?”

“That took longer, but… something told me, even then, I wanted him by my side forever.” He waves his hands in front of her suddenly. “Anyway, stop. You’re supposed to be helping me, remember? Not enabling me.”

“I’m offering you a solution. And if nothing else, giving you an outlet. Clearly you needed this.” All Cam can do is laugh, because she’s completely right. He runs his hands over his face.

“So listen. Not to the voice that wants you to hurt, but to what your body is telling you. That doesn’t mean you should go up to them and kiss them without warning, but your heart wants something. Now, I don’t want you to feel like I’m not taking your concern into account, because I understand that, but I don’t want to disregard me totally because the voice inside your head speaks to you more. It knows where you’re weak, and it feeds on that. Give your heart a try. Give them a try.”

A few moments of silence. “How can you be so sure?”

“I’m not. But I don’t want you to wallow in what’s only making you feel worse with absolutely zero hope. You deserve to love and be loved, and I know that out of anyone, you should choose it for them. You owe it to yourself. You do.”

“I’ll think about it.” Cameron fights a smile. “Thank you, Jeanie. I mean, really. Thank you.”

“Of course.” They get up from their places, and Jeanie can’t help but give Cameron a hug. It makes him laugh, and gives him a sense of stability he doesn’t realize he’s been craving.

So Cameron coasts along, the oppressive feeling his body is used to carrying is a little lighter. He jokes with himself, claiming that this is the cure, and now he has no need to worry. Yet deep inside, where little flames still lick at the embers, there’s the knowledge that this lightness has only come over him because there is something deeper inside that he’s now worried about releasing. And besides, it isn’t fool-proof. 

In fact, on a pleasant, spring day in April—he’s fully abandoned the plot for the first of the month—it burns more than ever. And honestly, anything, even the prospect of ruining everything, feels better than how mangled and wrong this feels. 

“Hi, guys.” It’s a weird way to start, but it’s all he has. He practiced lines for this, like a valiant actor who put the script to memory, but they start to slip from him, quicker and quicker, as the thrumming of his heartbeat becomes the only sensation he can really latch onto. His lips are numb, it feels as though any word could slip out loosely without paying attention, but he feels so far away from where his head is. There’s nothing holding him together, nothing tangible except for the fact that he’s still physically in one place.

“Hi, Cameron.” Sloane begins, eyes full of light like they always are.

“Hey, Cam.” Their smiles are sweet, both laughing at their same joke, and it’s excruciating not to follow through with the motions his body keeps incessantly suggesting. Oh, how little they know. It’s endearing, how lovely and innocent they look. He prays the light doesn’t fully go out of their eyes when he drops this on them. So he takes precautions where he can, as if that will cushion the blow.

“I need you-I need to talk to you about something.” Already off to a rocky start. How fitting. He huffs out a sharp breath. 

“What’s going on?” Sloane asks first, again.

“Yeah, what’s up?” They both lean forward slightly.

Cameron finds it especially cute that despite their function as a pair, they always answer him separately. He wants to push down these observations, his wandering thoughts, even now. But he shoves the shame away, because that’s not getting him closer to spitting it out.

He looks at Ferris and swallows hard, but tries to keep his voice lighthearted. “If this completely blows up in my face, blame your sister.” He doesn’t want that, but he knows that Jeanie would understand. It would take some of the sting away, and she would be okay with that. They would know, too, that it wasn’t her fault. It’s just to clear the air, to give him some comfort in the last few moments that are unburdened by confession.

Sloane’s eyebrows raise quizzically, but Ferris takes it all the same. “That can be arranged.”

“Man, I really didn’t plan this out enough.” A dry laugh escapes his lips. They look at him with curiosity.

“Okay. Basically, you two mean everything to me. It’s silly to say, I guess, but you know as well as I do how true that is. Hell, you make me feel like the main character in my own life. I don’t know how to talk about it, but I’d be pretty hopeless without you. And something inside me just, really hopes you feel the same way. I mean, I don’t want you to feel hopeless without me, but—shit. Why is this so difficult?”

Their eyes are fond, still, albeit harboring a bit of confusion. “Of course we do.” Sloane confirms, softening.

“I mean, it’s kind of fun. It’s like we’ve uncovered some secret that no one’s found out about. Cameron Frye, the key to eternal friendship.” Ferris says, gesturing dramatically. “I think at this point if I saw you hanging out with anyone else I’d have a heart attack and also never forgive you.” 

Cameron can’t help but laugh. But it fades away all too quickly, and he’s left in the same headspace that ties his stomach in knots. He’s more than just that secret. 

“See, that’s where it gets hard. For me. There’s just so much of this that I’ve been holding back. That I can’t hold back. Maybe I’m a fool, but I’m tired of… I’m never going to get tired of you. But I’m so tired of feeling like I’m destroying everything that this is just by being around you. I hate that my heart wrings every time I look at you. I hate… needing you this much. I need you, in a way I’m not supposed to.” He looks up at them finally, hoping they understand. Willing them to understand. Finally, finally, it quells. The burning ends, because he feels as though he could jump out of his skin. 

“You mean…?” Ferris asks in a quiet voice.

“Mm-hm.” Cameron nods, face heating with shame. They understand, and he breaks. Tears start falling down his cheeks, his vision blurring quickly. He’s almost grateful he can’t see them, can’t tell what’s in their heads by the expression on their faces. 

“Aw, Cameron, no. It’s alright.” Ferris consoles him, and Sloane joins him immediately at his left side.

“Please, Cam. Don’t cry.” They’re wiping his tears away with their thumbs, and everything inside him wants to shake them away. Shake his head furiously, shout, tell them no. He doesn’t want to be pitied. He can’t tell what this means, but he can’t take what happens next if it starts like this. Maybe they could love him, if they felt bad enough for him, and even someone so incredibly alone and desperate to be wanted like him knows that’s not fair. But he’s already sobbing, and he’s left with no choice. Letting them.

“It shouldn’t hurt this bad. Love. It doesn’t need to hurt this much.” Sloane tells him, looking into his eyes. How badly he wants to let it out, sadly. ‘Mine does.’ She’s still holding him, solidly, and stroking his cheek. But it’s not them. He hopes they know that. It’s always been him, the source of it. They’re meant to be loved, that’s not the problem. Just not by him, not like this.

“You got all ahead of yourself, Cam.” Ferris speaks to him softly, voice warping with concern. “You didn’t even hear us out.”

There was supposed to be no response. That was strictly for dreams, for the parts that deserved to be pushed away. 

“To be needed. That isn’t so bad, is it?” Sloane smiles, asking him earnestly.

“No, no.” He musters up the strength to tell them. “You can’t. Not like this. Not because I made you do it. Not because I made you feel bad.”

“You’re not making us do anything. We made this decision, this realization, all by ourselves.” Ferris convinces him, holding onto his hands. “Before this.”

“What?” It shakes Cameron out of it, almost completely.

“When we skipped school. After everything. Even after just… a second of having to maybe be without you… it was like the world had collapsed. We couldn’t handle it. We talked about it. After you left.” Ferris says.

“We need you, too.” Sloane looks in between them for a moment, then locking eyes with Cam in certainty.

“In the way we’re not supposed to. You just, fit. You talk about us, how much we’ve done for you. How much you need us, how much we’ve helped. But you… you’re everything. You complete us, the both of us, in a way we didn’t even know needed completing. We need you as much as we need each other. Love you, as much as we love each other.” Ferris lets that sink in. 

The word can barely escape, but Cameron needs clarification. “Love… me?”

“Yep. Isn’t that how you feel?” Ferris asks.

Cameron nods.

“Fully and completely.” Sloane confirms.

Cameron starts to cry again, but there’s a release of joy in it. Pent up pain, shame, and hurt, finally washing away. He laughs, gasping for air as his eyes brighten. Within a few moments, the unthinkable happens. Ferris presses a kiss on his lips, and then retreats for Sloane to do the same. They take turns like this. They don’t care that Cameron’s still in the aftermath of tears, that there’s the occasional hiccup of breath, that there are tears that dampen their faces. The way Cameron kisses them back with a purity, with a mutual exchange of need, want, and the loss of a weight that they feel so much freer without, nothing else in the world could possibly matter.

[kewltie]

contains: slavery, master/slave dynamic 

"Here." Katsuki deposits a discreet black box on Izuku's lap. "You'll need this when you go out."

Izuku looks down at the giftbox, a thin rectangular box that sits light on his lap, but it feels strangely heavy. The thing is deceptively innocuous and boring in appearance, but there’s no doubt in Izuku’s mind what it is. "You got me a replacement collar already?" he muses, one hand carelessly touching his neck in thought. It'd been only a week and a half since Katsuki had destroyed his last one in a show of power against the Academy. "Did you want see me leashed that badly?"

He'd almost gotten use to not having that heavy weight around his neck, but without his collar—his PET ID—Izuku couldn't go out in public, not if he wanted to get arrested. The law is ruthless in that regard; a Lesser like him have to be track and monitor for his own good like he’s no better than an animal.

It doesn't matter that Izuku is no different than anyone else except for his quirklessness, he is considered a property by the state and marker like a PET ID, personal electronic tracker, is how they keep Izuku in line—to remind them of their place in this new societal order; there is no place for the quirkless.

Izuku drags himself away from such bitter thoughts because there’s no point in stewing in it now, and looks up at Katsuki, whose staunch silence has been a strange and troubling thing. "Kacchan?" he presses, staring at the tense line of Katsuki shoulders, the twist of pain on his face, and the clenched fists at his side.

Katsuki exhales a long drawn out breath that make him appear a lot younger, unsure, like he's unmoored and Izuku is the one with feet planted on safer shores. "It's not—I wouldn't," he shakes his head in a clear sign of frustration, "just fucking open the damn thing already." He gestures helplessly toward the box still on Izuku's lap.

"Oh," Izuku breathes in realization, heart warms as his gaze drops to his gift. "That was mean of me, I'm sorry." His eyes linger on it for a moment before he carefully lifts up the lid and inside is a delicate silver band that would sit nicely on his ankle.

Heart palpitating, he reaches for it and then stops. His hand goes still, hovering just slightly above the box. Not quite touching it yet. He lets his eyes roam over every curve and indentation, examining it warily like he’s defusing a bomb.

It’s made up of mainly a thin wall of silver curving inward and at the back is a short chain link to close off the circle. A bar of metal tag engraved with Izuku’s name and ID number is hanging off one of the links with a green gemstone embedded in it.

It’s surprisingly simple and clean in design for something worth its weight in gold. This isn't a normal factory made PET ID. Hand still in the air, he finally drops it down on the anklet, tracing the curvature and feeling the cold metal pressing against his skin.

Lesser belonging to elite patrons would often wear a beaded choker, diamond studded earring, gold plated bracelet, or a signature ring embedded with a nanochip as their PET ID. They’re statement pieces. Meant to show off the power and wealth of the owner and not the wearer.The more ostentatious the PET ID is, the more it would further emphasize the standing of the Lesser’s master.

Sometimes, Izuku wonders if a bit little bitterly, if these ‘special’ PET IDs are even more degrading than the mass produce collar and cuff that they are forced to wear.

At least the former didn’t make Izuku feel like a decorative ornament hanging on the arm of his respective master. They can dress Izuku up in expansive clothes, glittering jewelries, and polite smile but it doesn’t change who and what Izuku is—the lowest rung of the social order. Almost by instinct, his hand recoils from the box and its content as doubt claws at his chest.

“What’s wrong?” Izuku hears Katsuki grunt out. He looks up to see apprehension lining Katsuki’s shoulder and his posture tensing up like he’s ready for whatever the fallout may bring.

Izuku quickly drops his gaze back to the giftbox and thinks somberly when did he become so cynical? For all Katsuki’s flaw, his pride, his arrogance, and his temper—he’d never been cruel for cruelty’s sake. There's no ulterior motive to Katsuki's action because that isn't him.

At Katsuki’s worst, he was a misguided and angry boy who’d lashed out at everyone and everything because nobody had taught him better, but it isn’t in his nature to be malicious for malicious’ sake. Izuku knows that, know it well enough that he isn’t afraid of Katsuki.

Katsuki may not always be gentle or kind in that brusque way of his, but he is a good man.

Somewhere along the way since they parted, Izuku had forgotten about that. Embarrassment sweeps over him. "Nothing's wrong," he murmurs, unwilling to meet Katsuki's heated regard again as he gets his bearing. His hand finds the anklet again, pawing at it with a renew interest.

An anklet is rare.

Rare enough that Izuku had never seen it on any Lesser before. PET IDs are visible maker of identification. A collar, bracelet, or even a ring can make a quick and easy scan but an anklet would force others bend down to make the requisite check—Izuku blinks.

His head snaps up to look at Katsuki with curious eyes. “Did you—?” He swallows, fingers clenching around the PET ID. He can't really mean to do that right? The corner of Katsuki's lips quirk up just ever so slightly in that smug way that reminds Izuku that this is Katsuki.

It’s easy to mistake Katsuki’s volatile personality as just another mindless brute who only knows how to use his fist, but he’d been consistently outshining their classmates ever since they were children. Katsuki wouldn’t be where he is today, among the top young heroes in the world, if all he relies on was physical force and his quirk.

Katsuki wasn't just smart. He got a strategic mind to lead and the charisma to pull it off. And this choice of anklet as a PET ID is intentional. Katsuki doesn't care for others' opinion of him, so this is every bit calculated. Izuku’s eyes widen now. “Why though?” he asks.

Katsuki shrugs, a careless shift of his shoulder that does not highlight the gravity of his words. “If you have to lower yourself before them then they, too, have to lower themselves before you,” he says cuttingly. "They have to work for it just to see who you are."

Izuku smiles humorless, unclenching his hand from the anklet. "I'm not worth much for them to really care who I am," he says, gesturing down to the anklet, "and you are making it hard for them to check my PET ID isn't going to make them suddenly sympathetic about my plight."

Katsuki's lips thin out. "You don't need their sympathy," he says with an annoyed huff. "What you need are allies who stand by you and not let the everyone else fuck you over just because you're quirkless."

"And what of the world's opinion that I deserve it?" Izuku muses. "After all quirkless is a debilitating disability under the law."

Katsuki frowns, face usually tight. "I bought you so you’re mine," he asserts. "Not the state or anyone else. The only words that should matter to you are mine alone. Fuck the rest. They're not important as me.”

Izuku blinks. Hard. And then clutching his stomach, he bends over and laughs. Light and free and so full of wonder. The sheer arrogance in this man, he thinks helplessly in that endlessly fond way of had spellbounded him in the past.

Katsuki is truly one of a kind.

"What the fuck, Deku," Katsuki snaps, and Izuku can literally hear the annoyance thick in his voice. Quickly composing himself up once more into some semblance of order, Izuku pulls back up in time to see the pinched expression on Katsuki's face.

He says, with a thinly veiled humor, “It’s just,” he smiles, warmth from the thought, “all so you, Kacchan. You haven’t changed after all these years.”

Katsuki makes a face, opens his mouth, and thought again before settling on: “You’re fucking ridiculous, you know that.”

Izuku’s smile only broadens. “I know,” he says softly as his eyes drops once more to the anklet still sitting innocuously his hand. He rubs a thumb over the cool metal under his touch as he muses, light and loose, “But not as ridiculous as wanting you to put this on me though."

Silence.

Katsuki wears his pride like a second skin. It’s his armor and though they had been dented in the past, he would rather die than be stripped of it. To think he would even lower himself to Izuku of all people, to a Lesser even, is not only preposterous but inconceivable.

Realizing right away the hiccup that he had made, Izuku’s head jerk up and he sees Katsuki had gone stock still, face carefully and eerily blank. “S-sorry, it was just a stupid joke. I didn’t really mean—“ his next words hang in the air under the severity of Katsuki’s glare.

“Give me that thing,” he instructs coolly, like the words coming out of him wouldn’t turn Izuku’s world upside down.

“W-what?” Izuku squeaks out in disbelief. Horror. And whatever other nonsense this entire situation had made itself into. No, no, this can't be happening.

And when Izuku is still stuck in his shocked stupor, Katsuki steps forward, reaches out, and rips the anklet from his hand. Then, oh-my-All-Might, he drops down to his knees in front of Izuku's feet with a startling ease that sends a bout of fever rushing through Izuku’s head.

Izuku hastily withdraws his legs from the floor, tucking it close to his chest protectively. “Get up from the floor,” he hisses, looking down at Katsuki’s bow head. “I said it in jest. You—you didn’t have to do it!” He flails helplessly, because Katsuki had gone mad. Absolutely, wretchedly mad.

“Shut the fuck up,” Katsuki snaps with a snarl of his lips. “Don’t tell me what to do.” His free hand shoots out, snakes it around Izuku’s right leg before yanking it down. Izuku struggles against his hold at first, his other free legs kicking furiously at Katsuki to let go.

What a ridiculous picture they both must make with Katsuki making an attempt to hold onto one of his legs and Izuku trying to fight him off, but it's a losing game. Katsuki is a trained hero who fights villains for a living, put away criminal daily, and he has a powerful volatile quirk, while Izuku is just plain old Izuku.

“Don’t,” Katsuki orders, heated palm pressed meaningfully on Izuku’s skin. Just a single word from him can bring such dangerous connotation that Izuku stops, the fight having been knocked out of him at last. He knows exactly what Katsuki is capable of, the danger he poses to Izuku.

It's in the way he carry himself, the scars stamped all over his body, and the lethality in his hands. It's the same hand that is currently wrapping around Izuku's ankle. The palm pressed against Izuku's bare skin is firm, and it burns like a brand, but his touch is careful. Controlled.

He had seen that hand take down a villain twice Katsuki’s size and weight, blast a hole through steel, and send a man flying across town. Katsuki’s hands capable of so many violence things, but hei had also use them to save a pregnant woman trapped under rubbles and carried a child out of a burning building. They'd saved lives; they'd saved Izuku once a long time ago.

Katsuki lifts the heel of Izuku’s foot up and rests it on his knee. He drags his other hand, the anklet still in its grip, near and opens the chain clasp. With an immeasurable care and steady hands, he wraps the jewelry around Izuku’s ankle and closes it once more.

“Things don’t always change, but sometimes they do,” Katsuki tells him, voice low as he places Izuku’s foot down on the floor again and backs away. He stares up at Izuku, eyes unflinching as he says dogmatically, “I’m not that dumb ignorant brat anymore. “

It’s not an outright apology, Izuku knows but he sees of Katsuki’s hunched form and it’s—it's, the dynamic is all wrong. Izuku has the shackle around his ankle, but Katsuki is the one on his knees. One of the strongest, mightiest, heroes of this generation is kneeling before him.

How absurd.

It's maddening, really, but it's a statement if there ever was one. Katsuki’s hysterically clumsy zig-zagging attempt of an apology without ever saying those damning words. That's just so like him. That's just so not like him. Katsuki's right. He's still the same old Bakugou Katsuki that Izuku knows but he'd grown up  now. Time, care, and effort had aged him well.

Katsuki stands up and steps back as Izuku’s eyes fall on his feet. “I know,” Izuku murmurs, looking at his newly acquired bespoke collar.

There's no doubt in his mind that it is collar, because all PET IDs in all its many forms are simply that, but just for a second with the anklet sitting easy and light on his ankle, he doesn't feel it. Doesn't see it for what it is, it’s Katsuki's concession to him.

Izuku had been afraid it would be too heavy to carry around, and it is. Katsuki’s intention are weighing him down, locking him in place, but somehow in its confinement, he finds comfort and security. Katsuki can't change how the world may see him, but this is a start.

[addictedforbooksquad]

B O O K  R E V I E W

╙ T H E  Q U E E N  O F  N O T H I N G  B Y  H O L L Y  B L A C K

genre: fantasy, young adult

publication date: 19th November, 2019

rating (1-5 scale):

writing:   ★ ★ ★ ★

characters & character development: ★ ★ ★ ★

could-not-put-it-down factor: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

general rating: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ 

WARNING: CONTAINS SPOILERS!

 “By you, I am forever undone.”

Exhilarating. Feels-inducing. Heart-attacking. I didn't just read this book. I devoured it. Inhaled it through my pores. Drank it in with haste and thirst as if indulging in faerie wine after a year-long fast. Perhaps from a storytelling point of view, this wasn't as good as “The Wicked King” but nevertheless, I revelled in every single page. I read it in one go, from cover to cover, and all I can say is that it was absolutely worth a sleepless night. And then it left me so satisfied and full of reflections and feelings, then I just cannot stop thinking about it. And aren't those books, which leave us content and sated, and yet somehow yearning for even more of a good thing, just the best? Now, onto the details, the good and (despite 5-star rating) the bad: I. the sister thing Anyone who knows me, knows that I absolutely hated Taryn in the first two books. Betrayal of her sister aside, I just found her utterly and unforgivably...boring. In "The Queen of Nothing" though, I was happy to discover depths to her character that weren't that fleshed out before. From killing Locke (YASSS!!!) to standing up to Madoc, side by side with Jude and Vivi, Taryn finally showed with her ACTIONS, not words, which side she is on. And look, this perhaps doesn't erase what she did to Jude in “The Cruel Prince” but I liked how the story unfolded between them in this last installment. This is not a series about pure-hearted good characters. They all did awful things. They all did some of those awful things to each other. So in the end, I'm glad there was no "grovelling" on Taryn's part, no act of "official" forgiveness. That's not how things work in Faerie. More than that, all the sisterly moments! Loved them! Whether it was Taryn trying to gossip about Cardan with Jude or the three sisters united against Madoc, it was great to see a positive sister relationship in a fantasy for once. I definitely prefer them together than apart and set up against each other. II. the trick thing I had lots of theories after finishing "The Wicked King" about Cardan banishing Jude from Elfhame and damn, do I have a satisfaction of getting it at least partially right. I know a lot of people hated what Cardan did in TWK but personally, I loved that plot twist. I thought it evened out the playing field between them and I always knew there was more to it anyway. And would you look at that, it was indeed a trick! When Jude and Cardan reunited and he was so utterly confused that Jude WASN'T proud of him for pulling one over her...priceless. He did it to impress her. He did it to protect her (and his kingdom). He did it to, let's face it, get back at her. It's so wonderfully twisted, my pitch-black heart rejoices and flutters. Added to that delicious cake of dark and twisted is a cherry of irony on top which is the fact that Jude did realize that she could pardon herself...and didn't. She, who is usually so smart and devious and quick to pick up on other people being smart and devious, wasn't able to see through the smoke screen and guess Cardan's true intentions. Which isn't that surprising to me, because when it comes to feelings, my daughter Jude is the most hopeless and oblivious person in that fantasy realm. That lack of trust in Cardan cost her and it only underlined what needed to change - to be able to rule together, Jude and Cardan need to lower their defences when it comes to one another. But more on that in the next point. III. the love thing Jude and Cardan's dynamic has been one of my very favourite things about this series from the start. I love them both as characters and I love them as a ship. I was happy to find out that what unravelled between them in this last installment was utterly (with some minor mishaps) satisfying. Their reunion, untangling the coiled web of mistrust and misunderstandings, learning to trust and be trusted...it was everything. I longed to see them as allies and a team, rather than enemies and reluctant/forced co-operators from the start (not that it wasn't fun to see them as enemies and reluctant allies, IT WAS SO MUCH FUN) and here I got what I wished for. Love scenes, their talk of lowering their shields, those that had been kept up for so so long, melted my heart. Cardan's love confession? Perfect! And so fitting for him in my opinion. Only he would say ILY in such an off-handed manner.

Basically:

"Hi you probably already know this because you're so smart (and I love you) but I've loved you for a long time, OK we got stuff to do BYE" Perfection 😍😂 Cardan was also, quite obviously, Jude's first stan, and I just live for relationships like that. And the longing between them was so palpable. Especially in Cardan's letters to Jude, I could feel how much he missed his Queen *ugly weeping* I'd say that Jude's confession could've been handled better, as in, there could've been even more build-up to it, considering how good she is at holding on to her walls and defences. Still, I loved it in its own way. IV. the character development thing I know there are some who were dissatisfied with the plot twist and the ending. Personally, I thought it was very fitting though. The decision that Jude faces? Between love and power, between her own humanity and the possibility of utter control over Cardan? That dilemma was the best way to capture the character development she had gone through throughout this series. Ever since the beginning, Jude had been wondering about one thing - where will she draw a line? Is there a line that she won't cross to get more power? She got her answer in this book. As Jude was making her choice between killing Cardan or killing her chances at ruling Elfhame, I was crying heavy tears of someone who had witnessed a painful yet utterly satisfying journey. Jude had always been scared. Jude had always resented being weak and human. Jude had always craved power and security for herself. Jude had always hated being vulnerable and relished in the control she gained over Cardan. And with her choice, she embraced so much of what she had once resented. She chose hardship and uncertain future and opened herself up to being hurt. She chose love. She chose being human and weak and what-the-hell-I'll-deal-with-it-because-I'm-not-weak-at-all. She chose Cardan. *this reviewer took a 5-minute break at this point to wipe off all the tears from her keyboard* The point is, I loved the character development this choice represented and yet, Jude also remained very much herself by doing this. V. the loose thread thing Not to be overly sweet on this book, there were also some loose ends, all right. For one, I wish the relationship between Cardan and his mother was explored more, same with more insight into Jude's biological parents, especially her mother. It seemed like it was teased a lot in two previous installments and yet, I didn't experience nearly as much delivery as I expected on those subjects. I just wish there was more on this. VI. other things

Cardan calling Jude his wife, THE FEELS ARE REAL

the not-so-subtle hinting at the possible Taryn-Ghost romance, I dig it

loved the conclusion to Jude and Madoc relationship, he got exactly what he deserved

onto punishment topic, I also loved that Cardan left that responsibility solely within Jude's power

underlining the fact that Cardan is very stable in his feelings, very un-faerie-like was very much appreciated, I love one (1) Faerie boy

Vivi and Heather getting their HEA as well, YESSSS

the symbolism of Cardan creating two thrones from one, my heart stopped

Cardan in the mortal world (P.S. I NEED MORE OF THIS, approximately 483949 pages more)

I could go on and on but there was just so much - and in such a (relatively) short book too. What I will say is this - The Folk of the Air had been shaping up to be one of my favourite fantasy series, and "The Queen of Nothing" made it into a fact. Which it could have very well failed to do, as it often happens with final books in a series. Because ever since I finished "The Wicked King", I've been holding my breath, waiting for the proverbial other shoe to drop and for this final book not to live up to the very high expectations I've had for a conclusion not only to a great series, but also some of my very favourite characters and relationships. But after reading this, "I feel as though I can finally breathe again."        

[living-in-the-state-of-dreaming]

Hi! I recently read your Yandere Chuuya oneshot and loved it! Spot on my dude! Anyway I'd like to request some yandere headcannons for Dazai, Chuuya, Atsushi, and Akutagawa...How would they react to a pregnant s/o attempting to escape captivity? (She hasn't told him she is pregnant and that's why she's trying to escape)

I’m. So. Sorry for the wait with this. x_x I’ve never written something to do with pregnancy before so this was more than a little challenging to write but I sincerely hope that it was worth the wait. 

Also if some of the mentioned people in these requests have longer parts then the others I’m very sorry. x_x I’m not trying to trick you out of anything.

Akutagawa Ryunosuke

Akutagawa is unquestionably merciless and cold when it comes to most things. However, the anger that comes to him when he returns home and finds you trying to escape him will cause him to be enraged. 

He will without a doubt grab you by the collar of whatever you are wearing or a few strands of your hair and drag you back into the room while your cries of pain fall on deaf ears if he’s not wearing his trademark coat. Though if he is wearing his coat then expect to be quickly grabbed by Rashomon, dragged back into the room and pinned to the bed while Ryunosuke simply stares at you with cold eyes that are burning with the silent rage and he will not have Rashomon release you until you explain yourself. 

Though he may appear composed in truth he is absolutely livid that you tried to escape him, and even if he doesn’t say as much it will be in his voice and eyes. Had he not given you everything? Everything that he had done had been for you and yet you try to escape? Perhaps he had been far too lenient with you or maybe he had been simply fooled by how you were behaving that he had allowed you to be unrestrained. After all, he had so far neglected using the chains, the collar, and the handcuffs but if you were going to continue to be stubborn and resist then he would have no choice. 

One of the many punishments was about to come your way since betrayal or things like this were never something that Akutagawa was very forgiving of, especially when it came to you. Losing you was something he would never allow. However, when the words leave your lips with fear twinged and pleading eyes Akutagawa’s thoughts come to a complete stop and for just a moment his eyes widen in stunned skeptic shock. 

Silence. For a long moment that is all, you’re met with. 

Pregnant? You were pregnant with his- His Child? 

Error AkutawaRyunosuke.exe has stopped responding. Please wait a moment as the system tries to restart and reboot.

He’s completely taken aback and unsure what to make of this news and even skeptical, as for a moment the thought that you were only saying such things to avoid your impending punishment comes to him, but the look in your eyes tells him otherwise. Both guilt and regret quickly come to him at how harsh he had been with his aforementioned treatment of you while the two words crawl up his throat and to the tip of his tongue.

Along with this guilt and regret that he has comes anxiety of what that entails and this is one that troubles him greatly. The thoughts of whether or not he is ready to be a father come and stay in his mind constantly since while he has experience with looking after Gin, a baby was a completely different matter and one that he isn’t entirely sure that he’s ready for.

After learning this Akutagawa will take time for himself, leading him to leave the room but not before locking it behind him. During this time he will use this time alone to process the news and you will likely not see him for a few hours or more.

When you do see him in the morning Akutagawa’s uncertainty will still be with him but his demeanor towards you will have changed. He will be more careful towards you and more awkward around you and this is something that is very easily seen when he brings you breakfast the next morning and his body language will seem stiffer. It will only be when you give him reassuring words or touches that he will visibly relax, before just sitting there with you for a while.

Sometimes his eyes will just drift to your stomach and his eyes will just stay on your stomach for a while, while his eyes unconsciously and noticeably soften. If you notice this and tease him about it; his cheeks will darken with an embarrassed blush and he’ll quickly look away, and while he won’t deny it he won’t confirm it either.

Akutagawa will undoubtedly grow even more protective and possessive over you the longer this news sets in, this is something that both he and Atsushi have in common. However, while Atsushi is like a tiger protecting its mate from any danger that poses a threat to them; Akutagawa is like a wolf, baring its fangs and viciously tearing apart any who dare try touching his mate. The fangs will come in the form of the glares that will be seen in his eyes if anyone tries anything with you while you are on an outing; whether it be just a walk through the park at night or to a doctors appointment and it goes without saying that whoever's dumb enough to try to lay a hand on you with ill intent; will be met by those vicious claws in the form of Rashomon, as they tear the fool to shreds without hesitation.

This is something the poor doctor who takes your appointments is not exempt from either, especially if this doctor happens to be a male. The entire time that doctor is giving you a checkup and checking the progress and health of the baby Aktuagawa’s eyes will be watching his every move and if his hands linger a little too long for his liking, his eyes will shift into a glare which will make the poor guy noticeably flinch. Honestly just see a female doctor it’s better for everyone that way. 

Atsushi Nakajima

Atsushi’s response to you trying to escape will be a mixture of self-hatred and desperation. This mix is only pushed on by his obsessive desire and need that he feels to protect you. It goes without saying that Atsushi has never felt much self-worth, he knows that you could do far better than him and that he doesn’t deserve you but at the same time he knows how horrible and cruel this world is, but that will not stop the tears from coming to and from his eyes as he begs you to stay; while he only just holds himself back from grabbing you and holding you to him to keep you from leaving him behind. There are so many people outside that could hurt you or worse! People exactly like the port mafia and he only wants to keep you safe! Isn’t it normal to want to protect the one you love?? You love him too so why won’t you let him??

Along with this mixture is confusion. Why? Why are you trying to escape? You were safe with him, he loved you so much and he’d happily give you anything. He’d wait on you hand and foot if you so desired. He’d do anything for the person who had made him feel wanted and loved for the first time in his life.

Silence would come to Atsushi as he sits next to you having locked the front door upon entering it again and this confusion and frustration will push and pull at him to ask and to demand why you tried to leave. 

When the confession comes from your lips Atushi will be stunned into silence like Akutagawa and for a moment he will just look at you with his lips parted in a small o. In that silence he will be trying to read your expression almost to see if you were lying but then again he knows you wouldn’t lie about something so big, he knew you, that wasn’t like you. 

Pregnant? W-With his baby? You were pregnant with his baby? 

Hearing this will cause his confusion to come to him again, first beginning with why would you want to leave if you were pregnant before the other questions came to his head. Was he ready to be a father??? The very thought made his head spin with confusion and concern. The aspect of being someone's father had never been something that Atsuhi had ever considered. What if he messed up? What if he wasn’t good enough as a father to the child? What if-?? All of these questions that spin around in his head will be joined by the most pressing question. What if this child inherited his ability? 

However at the end of all this one thing seems to reassure him and that’s the fierce will he had to protect you except now it isn’t just you who he wants to protect, but the child inside of you too. Even if the aspect of being a father scares him beyond belief and the possibilities that he would be a horrible father makes him incredibly nervous and worried he knows that there is nothing he can do except try. Despite this worry though, there are no words for how happy he is to learn this.

After he learns of your pregnancy Atsushi’s protectiveness of you will only increase. He is a tiger after all and tigers are always protective over their mates, especially when they’re pregnant with their cubs, however, his obsession with you causes him to be a little overbearing at times to the point where it’s close to smothering, even when you both go out for your appointments. 

Chances are that he will call into the Agency a few times from the desire and need he has to be near you and make sure that you are always comfortable, but when he is at work and on the job Atsushi’s thoughts will be on you constantly.

When at home there’s nothing that Atsushi enjoys more than being curled up next to you on the couch while you are snuggled up in a blanket that he had earlier got you while you either watch TV or just a movie that you wanted to watch. At first he was shy and extremely embarrassed to ask if he could rub your stomach; but after asking a few times even after you said yes it will become second nature to Atsushi and when the baby kicks Atsushi will be unable to keep from gazing at your stomach with both love, awe and amazement at the thought of a child made from the two of you is growing inside of you right now.

Don’t be surprised if you both end up falling asleep with his hand still on your stomach, while his free arm which had transformed into that of a tigers is wrapped around you; the action will seem tender and loving but it will also be to keep you from escaping should you even attempt to do so again.

Osamu Dazai

Given just how perceptive Dazai is it’s very bold of you to even assume that you can hide anything from Dazai, much less the fact that you are pregnant with his child. 

Out of the four of them, it’s extremely likely that Dazai would have already picked up on the signs and put the pieces together, leading him to come to the conclusion himself before you even tell him

On one side he’s hurt that you’d feel the need to hide this from him, but the other is also understanding especially since you hadn’t exactly come into this relationship willingly. 

He’ll continue to act oblivious to this fact and play it off as if everything is normal but every so often he’ll ask you while dropping little hints but never coming right out and saying it, which will lead you to guess if he knows constantly to yourself.

While he does this conflict will be occurring in himself as well. Having children had never been something that he had never considered or really thought about after all his wish was to one day leave this mortal coil and the person he desires to do just that with one day was you. Yet now you were pregnant with his child. This makes him feel conflicted as he does not want to leave this child alone to fend for themselves should he follow through with his desires; as he knows just how cruel this world can be, especially if you have to go through that by yourself. 

Maybe this child could be another source of light and warmth for him just like you are to him. A means for him to find some hope in this world that in the past has given him nothing but darkness, one that he still fights within himself and at times comes to the surface, like his obsession with you.

These thoughts continue to go around in his head as he makes his way home after finally being allowed to come home to you, however when he finds the door unlocked and you nowhere in sight one big torrent of emotions go through him beginning from worry, to panic to fear and then a rage that’s followed by the desire to make whoever took you wish they were dead; only to draw out their suffering before ending their miserable lives for daring to even attempt to take you from him. 

However, as he takes more things into account such as the lack of signs of a struggle and the lack of evidence that leads to that, Dazai comes to another realization. One that will fill him with disappointment and hurt but his anger will not fade. You’d left on your own accord, though he isn’t too worried, he’d find you. He’d always find you and the fact that he knew you down the last detail including your thought process and where you’d likely be it doesn’t take long until he does. 

Once he finds you he’ll greet you with a perfectly innocent smile but one look in his eyes lets you know that that’s just a visage and it’s not long after that he informs you that he knew. He knew everything all along. 

As much as he would love to give you one of his very creative punishments he doesn’t want to harm your child in any way and so he lets you off easily and by the look in his eyes when you get home you know to consider yourself lucky.

While he won’t keep you restrained after your little stunt Dazai’s watch over you will become more intense, and every time you go to an appointment, he is always there; playing the role as the perfect and friendly boyfriend to everyone around you, including the doctor. Should you act hesitant to the point where you begin to draw suspicion from the doctor; the look that he’ll send you for just a moment when no one is looking and the dark curl of a smirk that will appear as an all too familiar warning will quickly change your behavior like a switch as you know full well what awaits if you choose to stir Dazai’s temper. 

However, on a lighter note Dazai’s affectionate, tender and loving side will come out more and he’ll feel relieved at no longer having to act oblivious to the fact that his darling is pregnant. He’ll happily call in sick under the notion that you aren’t feeling well that morning and he has to take care of you but he’ll do this just so he can spend more alone time with you.

Your lack of energy due to your pregnancy will be something that he will take complete advantage of and a majority of these moments will be spent wrapped in Dazai’s embrace as he holds you close to him and cuddles you. He’s not the best cook and is usually lazy but if you ask him to cook you up something easy like instant ramen a well as bring you a glass of orange juice he’ll happily do that for you while making himself up a cup of instant ramen himself, before getting back into bed with you and enjoying his ramen there while you both just relax and enjoy tv. After all, since he’s been dosing your food with that sleeping medicine that he plucked off the shelf on the hospital; due to using his skilled hands why wouldn’t he enjoy every moment without worry.

Chuuya Nakahara

Please for the love of cheese give the Bitter lil Espresso kids. He really wants them, especially with his darling.

If there is ever a moment where his darling is around kids and those gentle and warm smiles come to their expression while they interact with them; a warm feeling will settle in his chest and it will only push on this desire to have them with you someday.

However when you begin to be constantly sick this warm feeling that had started in his chest once again as he found himself thinking back on it to himself will quickly change to concern. At first, he’ll think it’s just a stomach virus that’s going around but then he notices how strange your so-called virus was. You were throwing up constantly. 

As the pieces click together the longer this continues he’ll feel like this is way too good to be true, making him skeptical at first. Chuuya will ask you if you were alright in spite of knowing the answer as a means to push and encourage you to tell him but when you choose not to tell him and instead just give him an excuse that you think is believable others he’ll leave it alone for the time being and just wait until you decide to tell him yourself. 

However, while he is at work his thoughts will be all over the place from the prospect of possibly being a father and then shifting to the possibility that he was just overthinking this and blowing it out of proportion. Sure he wanted kids but that didn’t mean that he didn’t have his doubts and worries, having a parent who's in the Port Mafia wasn’t exactly the ideal parent for any child after all. Still, the thought of having a family with you is and has always been something that Chuuya has secretly wished for, but this is something that he will never admit to anyone but you.

After being cooped up inside with meetings and documents all day all Chuuya wanted was to go home and relax with you, in fact, the thought of seeing you made a soft smile grace his expression for just a moment, the smile he would only ever reserve for you. However, he comes home to find you have not only broken the window but were trying to escape out of it his blood runs cold as the smile completely leaves his expression. 

Fucking hell he thought you were over this! Instantly Chuuya will make a b line for you, grabbing ahold of your arm and pulling you back inside while being very careful not to injure you on the glass. Both hurt and seething from anger Chuuya will be seething inside as he’ll look at you with only barely held back anger in his eyes. If you don’t give him an honest answer then and there his anger will flare to the point where his ability will activate all while his grip stays on the wrist that he had pulled you back inside with. He won’t hurt you but he will use it to hold you down if you insist on being stubborn and not tell him the truth. 

When you do and the answer that a part of him already knew comes to his ears Chuuya’s eyes widen for just a moment before his eyes soften, so you were pregnant. He knew it. All the signs had pointed to that after all, but still, if you were pregnant then why the hell were you trying to leave him? He knew that your relationship wasn’t exactly healthy but everything he’d done had been for you, this was all to protect you, he loved you down to his very marrow and yet you still tried escaping? Again? After all this time?

Due to how hurt he feels over this it will lead Chuuya to become cold towards you for the rest of the night, and should you try to earn his trust again he will be a little bit suspicious at first but soon he’ll begin to relax, after all as much as you hurt him by trying to escape, he could never hate or stay mad at you for too long, those smiles and touches that you gave him made it near impossible for him to and soon enough things will return to ‘normal’ as his warm and passionate side will surface once more. 

Gentle kisses on your cheek and forehead while you sit on his lap while he enjoys a glass of wine on the sofa as you watch tv will be like heaven to him, but not quite as much as knowing that you, his queen were pregnant with his child. Even if he is busy at work he will always make time for you, if you want him to pick up something for you be it food, drink or other things he’ll get it for you on his way home or he’ll stop in when he has time for the purpose of giving you what you asked for and if it’s for an appointment to cheek up on the baby Chuuya will always ensure that he is able to make it to them.

[scripted-dalliances]

Rest In Peace: Chapter Twelve

Title: Rest In Peace

Chapter: 12

Summary: A part of Faithless Fairy Tale, a more in depth look at how they brought Laura back to life. Appearance of old faces, creation of new ones and if you’re looking for canon, it left a long, long time ago. If you squint you might be able to see some pieces from the book.

“She knew herself, how she had slowly, over years, become a cat, a wolf, a snake, anything but a girl. How she had wrung out her girlhood like death.” -Catherynne M. Valente

+

Laura has learned not to carry expectations when it comes to Gods.

Odin was just some old drifter, Ostara looks like she could beat Martha Stewart in a home decorating contest any day of the week and Mad Sweeney is six foot and five inches tall leprechaun. Clearly, it wasn't text book mythology rules.

Still, Isis surprises her. Laura had vaguely assumed she would look like an older Nephthys. Just as high cheeked and blessed with model perfected features. No doubt blessed with a matching leg length, to work a powerful goddess stride.

Instead Isis is cute.

Isis is nearly as short as Laura herself, curvy with a heart shaped face. Making her plush lips and large eyes look all that more beautiful. She looks young.

Everything about her seems to glow, but less like something other worldly and more like joy. She smiles brightly at sister and son, bubbling with soft laughter as they talk. Nothing about her movements is overly graceful, she is frantically eager and emotional. In this moment, she is not elegant and stately. Nor is she trying to pretend to like so many other gods and goddesses have tried.

Laura can't help but stare, trying vainly to find the line where goddess and woman meet but in Isis she realizes maybe there isn't one. 

In midst her staring, the small goddess finally calms down and cuts the distance between them. The laser focus she once had for her son, now locks on to Laura as if she physically marked a target on the dead girl. Who can do nothing but freeze and accept the woman's space budding onto her own.

“You and I are long over due for a talk.”

Laura pulls back her lips into a dry, tight smile.

“You could say, I've been waiting a life time.”

Isis’s eyes glitter with amusement even when behind them Mad Sweeney groans in mock pain at her line. With a gentle touch, Isis moves her aside to look the leprechaun up and down. Her expression a cross between unimpressed and curiosity.

“Let me guess, Mad Sweeney?”

Laura gets some sick satisfaction seeing him go pale and nervous. He even takes his hands out of his pockets and attempts to look polite.

She wants to tell him that particular endeavor is hopeless.

“Aye.”

Isis nods, “Well, you can go now.”

“What?” Laura surprises herself by asking, not even sure why her voice sounds mad. Fuck, not even the idiot himself questions the goddess. He just stands there looking at the pair of them. “Go where?”

“Away?” Isis answers bluntly. “The conversation we need to have should be a private one, don't you think? At the very least, I assumed you wouldn't want your killer to take part in.” -and before Laura can get a word in to question that, she answers, “And yes, we know that too. Odin’s ravens were not the only things watching that night.”

“She's got a point dead girl…I should go.” He adds.

Laura glares at his stupid sad face, “Shut the fuck up. I did not suffer your presence all this time for you to just leave. Let alone to be dismissed like some serving boy.” Though some private part of her knows this is illogical. That if she finds him so annoying, she should want him gone. But she is a possessive dead girl these days, and she doesn't have much but him and a coin to call her own.

(She refuses to look too deeply into that fact she claims him at all)

Instead she turns her attention back to Isis, “Look, no offense but if anyone is going to tell him to fuck off its me. And I didn't, so he stays, okay?”

Isis’s soft smile blooms into a wider, altogether more wicked one. Like she is utterly pleased by Laura's response, and its only when Nephthys starts to laugh does she remember that Isis loves a good trick.

Shit.

If she had any hot blood in her, it would be rising to her cheeks. Maybe even her ears. Right now, if she were alive. She would be flushed with embarrassment.

But she's dead and thank god for that.

Ha.

+

In the end, Mad Sweeney and Laura join Isis at a small seating area in her office. Nephthys and Horus leave them, saying cheerful goodbyes that don't seem like such, as if one day soon their paths will cross again and soon.

“Do you want anything?” Isis asks, as she pours herself a glass of red wine from a near by table of assorted drinks. Mad Sweeney approaches cautiously but once he knows this isn't a trick question of sorts, points to the southern comfort bottle. She hands the bottle to him and goes to hand him a glass too but he takes the offered bottle and runs. Choosing to put as much physical distance as he can between him and the goddess without actually leaving the room.

“Am I really that scary?” She asks the dead woman, taking the empty glass with her as she sits down to hand to Laura. Who promptly shoves it under his nose. With a gruff sound of annoyance he pops the bottle open and fills her glass.

Isis watches.

Under her stare Mad Sweeney bristles, wants to tell her “Yes, Jesus fucking Christ, yes! YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY TERRIFYING. AND THIS IS EXAMPLE FUCKING ONE” -but instead he finds his voice and says, “I already have one small overly strong bitch who has my balls in her pocket. Not really in the market for another.”

(Never forget he has a death wish)

Isis chuckles and lets his insult slide, “She has more than just your balls.” She says it with such knowing that it freezes his blood. Like she has reached in with clever hands and stolen a secret he wasn't aware could so easily been taken. “Don't look so surprised.”

Mad Sweeney attempts to keep his shit together, gently coughs and looks at the goddess, “Not surprised, more like mystified.”

“Its common knowledge by now that she is only walking because of your coin. Your luck.”

Do not sigh in relief. He tells himself while taking a long gulp straight from the bottle. Mostly to buy himself an ounce of time and the chance to look away from her iron gaze. It’s easier to breath when he isn’t.

“Is it now? Wasn't aware that Grimnir and you were so close.”

Just like that, the warmth of the room vanishes and Isis's good mood with it. Replacing her joy with fury. She doesn't hide it, the rage is in her like a storm, radiating from her eyes. In her voice.

“I am no friend of your former employee. If I could smear his name from my memory I would. Just as I would burn him to ash. To let my sons consume him whole. If there is a punishment too cruel to name, I want him to experience it a thousand times.” Isis promises this with venom, spits it out like a rattle snake, forcing Sweeney physically leans away from her.

“Aye, alright. So you didn't hear it from him. Am I allowed to ask how you did?”

The goddess visibly cools her anger and shrugs, “Well, the coin is technically one of mine isn't it? Or rather of an Isis.”

Mad Sweeney and Laura both balk, but he more than her as he quickly forgets his place, “No, it ain't. It's mine. Always has been.”

“Always?”

“YES ALWAYS.” He shouts only to promptly remember…not always. He didn't make it after all, he was no black smith. “It was given to me as a gift when I was a king.”

The petite goddess doesn't smile, but her gaze softens. “Like any good coin, it was made to be used. Not locked up in some vault, to collect dust. I am not mad it fell into your hands, I'm sure it was meant to.” From no where, she plucks a similar gold coin into existence. So much like his own ability that for half a second he feels disjointed. Jealous. 

“Now, my coins, here and now. Those are just shades of magic I have left to spare to the occasional customer who spends it here. What you have Laura, is a piece of the original Isis's magic. Meant not just to bring luck, but justice. Strength to obtain it. Maybe it was placed on your grave without intent, but I have a funny feeling it would just as easily been rolled out of a pocket. The wind would have carried it out, a stray crow or cat would have helped it along.”

“It's meant for a king.” Sweeney tries again, refusing the idea that this is the part of the story always meant to be told. That she was always meant to have it, because if that is true, it means he was always meant to kill her.

And that is too fucked up for him to take.

Isis chuckles warmly at his indignation, “Is it such a strange thought that a king is sometimes a woman?”

Mad Sweeney bites his tongue is muted anger; he’s not good at it, he knows he looks pissed and he can’t stop tapping his foot, but there isn’t a damn thing he can say or do. Isis isn’t wrong, and nor will she allow herself to be to the likes of him. 

He has no power here, no strength and no fucking clue. 

+

“I am not a king,” Laura says in Mad Sweeney’s silence. 

Just short of outraged since this isn't answering anything. In fact, it's just drawing in more questions. “I was just a normal, if really shitty and depressed chick who made some terrible choices. So, you’ve got the wrong dead girl, sorry.”

“A king isn’t just someone with a crown, or a throne, sometimes it is earned. You need the right spirit, to be strong enough to handle that kind of power.” Isis explains, taking a sip of her wine before placing it down. 

“And who says I have that?” Laura digs, this is starting to hurt. She wanted answers, she wanted to find a way back to life. Not to peel back the pages of her dirty end, she knew that part of the story. She was there, wasn't she? 

She knew what fueled her, the sick and overwhelming emptiness that demanded anything and anyone to fill it; of what mistakes came from that sickness, how she had hurt everyone who ever knew her name. She knows all the players involved, of Odin and Sweeney, of Shadow and the ravens who watched.

Just as she knows that part of the story won't change. It's not a rotted tooth she can remove and get away with. It's bone disease, infecting the whole jaw. It's cognitive heart disease. It's apart of her, and it was always going to kill her, one way or another. There is not enough black ink and faith in the world to erase it.

“I know Shadow didn't mean to give me the coin, that I’m only getting this chance because numb nuts over there made a mistake...that even in death, I’m still massively screwing up. I don’t know what am I doing, like at all.” She gives a hysterical chuckle, “I kicked a dude's balls right through his mouth because I didn't know my own strength. I nearly gave my best friend a heart attack because I forgot for one second what I am. I kidnapped a cute little Salim-not Salim for his car, before I knew how much I was getting in the way of his love story. I killed Odin without knowing what that would even mean in the long run. I let Shadow go like it didn't even matter. Even now, I haven't learned anything from this whole mess, haven't found one damn thing that makes sense. Actually, it's been pretty much the exact opposite. I feel like I'm learning less, because now I have to worry about who will eat me because I'm dead or how fucked I am if I’m glued to Lucky Charms over here, and what that means.”

“Oi!” Sweeney hisses, but she ignores him and continues.

“It's obvious at this point, I am doing whatever the fuck I can to keep myself literally together. And yes, I know it's not going well. I know an old Mcdonald's french fry has a better chance of coming back than I do. I am not a fool, you don't have to pretend with me, okay? I don't have the strength of spirit, just like I don't have a light heart. I am not a king or a queen, I am a dead girl who wants something more than nothing.” Laura's voice trembles out of her, and she realizes slowly that Odin hadn't managed to spill all her secrets. 

She still has one left.

“And...and if that's not possible. If I can't get it from you or anyone else, fucking tell me now, because I am tired. I am so tired. Of rotting away and shoving air fresheners down my shirt just so ginger bitch over there doesn't puke all day. I am tired of being followed by every fly and insect, of spitting out maggots and embalming fluid. Of feeling my skin tear, of my nails dropping off and my teeth rattling around in my skull.” The truth pours out of her now, as if the stitching on her chest has come undone, “Of sewing myself up, alone in the dark. Like the world’s saddest Frankenstein girl.”

There's silence and then a clack and a clang, a loud ringing after her confession. Someone downstairs has won big time.

Laura wonders if there was a word for suicidal for the already dead.

She refuses to look at Sweeney when she's done speaking. He's been with her all this time; has seen more sides of herself than she would ever be comfortable with from anyone else. Fuck, he might be her last real tie to the world, might be the last thing she believes in but she never ever wanted him to hear this. 

Admitting it feels too much like confession.

He has been an unwilling witness to her so many of her failures and some small petty thing in her really wishes she could tell him to fuck off for good.

-but then she would be alone, truly alone.

He's done more for her, bitching aside, than anyone has ever done for her. Maybe she'd never forgive him for his part to play in her death, but worse things have happened to her since then and in the grand scheme of things, she knows he's low on the list of villains.

Unlike anyone else, at least he's been trying, and she has noticed. Not grateful, never fucking grateful, but she's noticed.

Sad truth is, if she can't be brought to life, if this whole journey has been for nothing and her getting the coin at all has just been some cosmic joke -she’s ready for it to be over. Laura is done, and the only reason she’s even trying now is the small hope she has that it isn’t. Not because she deserves it, but because now it’s not just her at stake. 

-he is too.

(She is tired enough to admit, that she really doesn't want him gone.)

>

[wingsofanillyrian]

Kingdoms and Crowns (Marecal)

@spegetty asked “ hey could you use the prompt “There’s no future for me without you.” for marecal PLeASe “ and OFC I SAID YES so please enjoy and send me more Red Queen prompts!

I should also mention that at this point in time I have not finished WS, so I apologize for any plot inconsistency :)

ACOTAR/TOG Masterlists

Cruel Prince Masterlist

Red Queen Masterlist (more to come!)

If I had it my way, I wouldn’t be here right now.

I hate these endless council sessions. They’ve become hunting grounds, each side out for the others blood. Its pointless. Dredging up past grievances does nothing to further anyone’s cause; it only adds fuel to the fire.

The weight of Silver gazes are nearly as oppressive as Silent Stone. They refuse to accept that Red blooded people sit at the same table they do, that our decisions have sway with the king. I sit straighter in my seat, meeting each House’s stare in turn. I refuse to let my unease show.

I watch the clock, its hands ticking merrily away. Two minutes until the battle begins.

“Why am I not surprised that his Majesty and House Samos are late yet again?”

I glance up at Farley, grateful for her arrival. The lack of Reds in the gathering hall had every one of my nerves on end. Farley and I are the only Red-blooded representatives that have a permanent seat at the negotiations table. The Scarlet Guard uniform she wears dares the king’s council to forget who sits among them.

“Probably because this happens every time.”

As soon as I’ve finished speaking, the arched wooden doors at the end of the room swing open, allowing Evangeline Samos to stride in. The sharp smile she cuts the Silver side of the table is more than enough to make them squirm. The armor she’s clothed herself in is as magnificent as it is deadly. Metallic scales flash across her torso as she stalks for me, giving a sly wave.

“Hello Mare,” she drawls, sliding into the empty seat beside me.

“You certainly enjoy making grand entrances, don’t you?” Although our alliance is uneasy, I’m glad it’s her next to me instead of a member of any other House. Evangeline I can tolerate for a little while at least.

A low, innocent laugh as she brushes her silver hair off her shoulder. “You know me so well.”

“Where’s the rest of your House?”

She smiles, letting everyone wait for her answer. Flicking her eyes around the table she says, “Father sends his regrets, but he won’t be able to attend. You’re stuck with little old me.” She shrugs, reclining with feline grace.

“I can’t say that upsets me.”

Attention snaps to the head of the table. Tiberias has managed to sneak in without anyone noticing. I curse myself for letting him catch me off guard.

Anabel Lerolan is a step behind her grandson, surveying those assembled with predatory intent. Tiberias’ black hair is shaggy and unkempt as if he couldn’t be bothered to comb it. The fitted suit he wears, black with red trim around the cuffs, does little to offset the shadows lingering under his eyes. I wonder if he’s been sleeping well.

Not that I care, I remind myself sharply.

The others fall over themselves, standing and offering a greeting to their king. Everyone except Farley and I, that is. We remain seated, a decision that Anabel notes with a glare.

“Now then, let’s get this underway, shall we?” Tiberias gives a tight smile before taking his seat. My eyes dip to where the top button of his shirt is undone, revealing a sliver of the toned chest I know lies beneath. Once, I was free to run my fingertips over his warm skin whenever I pleased. The memory of knobby white scars and hard muscle makes my hands tingle.

Farley elbows my side, giving me a hard look. I tear my eyes away from the king and pull my thoughts back to this room. I brace myself for another endless day filled with talks of taxes and basic human rights for Reds- something that should already be accepted.

My head fills with static as soon as Anabel begins reading through the day’s agenda. Usually I can focus enough to participate, but today I’m lost in the way Tiberias’ mouth curves when he speaks. I don’t tune back into the conversation until Farley slams her hand on the table.

“Our goal isn’t to overthrow the entire Silver monarchy.” I stifle a cough at the boldfaced lie. She cuts a glare at me before continuing, “We want Reds and Silvers to live peacefully as equals. We’ve already seen it work in Piedmont-“

The hall erupts as everyone speaks at once. My gaze flicks to where Cal- no, Tiberias- sits at the head of the long, narrow table. His eyes are locked on me, waiting for my reaction. Instinct demands I look anywhere but at him. I do the opposite, standing my ground until he eventually breaks the stare.

One voice rises above the others, commanding attention. “I think I’ve found a solution that suits all our interests,” the king says, rising from his seat. The noise Evangeline makes informs me that Tiberias is speaking directly at me, whether he realizes it or not.

“I always keep the needs of my people close to my heart.” This time, I don’t hold in my noise of disgust. Farley nods in agreement. Tiberias continues as if he hasn’t heard me. “Which is why I’ve decided that, effective immediately, my betrothal to Evangeline will end immediately.”

“Finally,” Evangeline mutters, grinning wickedly. No one spares her a glance; they all know how much she loathed the decision. Her heart lies elsewhere, anyway. For perhaps the first time, I truly envy the magnetron. With any luck, she may be able to follow her wishes and be with the one she loves.

Anabel’s bronze eyes flash with fury. Clearly, she was not included in his plotting. “And whom, pray tell, do you suggest you wed?”

Dread fills my stomach. I already know what he’ll say, but I pray he has the good sense not to. My pulse hammers as Tiberias looks around the room, the picture of confidence. He meets everyone’s eyes—except mine.

“Mare will be my queen.”

The world falls out from under my feet.

No one says a single word, not even his wicked grandmother. They must think it’s some sick joke. I think it is too.

A long time ago, I wouldn’t have hesitated to agree. Back when I was foolish and blind, nothing but a lovesick puppy. I would have followed Cal to the ends of the earth if he’d asked.

But that was then.  This is now.

I hone the sparks of my anger into a single bolt, internally directing it at him. Slowly, I turn to him, eyes blazing. He fidgets nervously with the thin metal bracelet at his wrist. I let the uneasy quiet seep into his bones before murmuring, “You want to repeat that, Calore?”

He clears his throat, squirming like an ant under my magnifying glass. “It would be a much better match politically-“

The dagger leaves my hand faster than anyone can process, slicing along his cheekbone. Tiberias’ startled cry echoes in the silent room, hand jerking to the shallow wound. Electricity crackles on my skin as the royal guard rushes me.

They are instantly stopped by the hand their king holds up. “Wait.”

My eyes track the thin line of silver trailing down his jaw. It drips onto the table, nearly in sync with my pulse. I absently remember a time years ago, when Kilorn fell and cut his chin open on a stone by the river. He’d bled buckets, and I had panicked. Don’t worry, he’d told me. Facial wounds bleed a lot.

“Mare?”

Tiberias’ confused whisper jerks me from the memory. My chair scrapes against the white marble as I push back from the table. “How’s that for politics?”

Anabel’s demands for my head follow me out of the room and into the hall beyond. My abrupt departure seems to have pierced her shock.

How dare he?

A political match. That’s what he called a potential marriage between us, in front of all those people. Though he cast me aside months ago, the pain of this most recent betrayal festers like an infected wound. How he has the audacity to act like I mean absolutely nothing to him, I have no idea.

And to completely blindside me with the announcement. He hadn’t even posed it as a question; he just assumed I’d agree. Assumed I was still young and naïve.

He was dead wrong.

I quicken my pace as footsteps echo behind me. “Mare, wait! Please, let me speak.”

I whirl around, nearly causing him to crash into me. “I have no interest in anything you have to say,” I spit out, lip curling. “You have no right to speak to me anymore, Tiberias.”

“I thought it’s what you would have wanted-“

“So you thought it would be perfectly okay to decide my entire life for me?” My voice rises, along with my emotions. “Who gave you the damned right? In what world did you ever think that I would agree to a betrothal to you without ever discussing it? After all I’ve suffered, everything I’ve endured, why would I want that choice ripped from my hands?”

His face sags. “There was a time you would’ve leapt for joy if I proposed.”

“We said never again, Tiberias. That night was to be the last of it.” My stomach flips as the memory of that stolen night comes flooding back. I do my best to reign in my temper, steadying my voice. “You’re just a spoiled child and I’m the shiny toy you just can’t live without.”

He flinches, my insult cutting deep. “That’s not true,” he whispers, but the pain etched in the lines of his face says otherwise. “I love you.”

My hands tremble as I curl them into fists so tight my knuckles turn white. “Liar. I gave you a choice. Me or the crown. I think you’ve made your decision quite clear. It’s as simple as that.”

“It’s not that simple, can’t you see?” The temperature rises a few degrees as he draws nearer, tears pricking his eyes. I almost believe they’re real. “There’s no future for me without you.”

The part of me that is still foolishly in love with him strains towards those words, lapping them up like honey. The wiser part of me knows that Calore men have an outstanding track record for hurting the ones they claim to love.

I should walk away. But I am desperate for answers, if only so I can finally let this chapter of my life turn to ash. My resolve weakens, tears blurring my vision. I drop my gaze to the floor, praying he won’t notice.

“Then how could you cast what we have aside so easily?”

Tiberias’ toes edge into my line of sight. “Why did you make me choose, Mare?” When he reaches up to brush his thumb over my jaw, I don’t stop him. I cherish the affection even though I know I should push him away. “Why can’t I have both?”

My eyes rise to the silver streak on his cheek. The blood that divides us. The blood of nobles.

“That’s why,” I whisper, smiling sadly. “No one would ever accept a Red queen and a Silver king. The Scarlet Guard fights for equality, but I think we both know that won’t ever happen- not completely. You could call me your queen, but all it would ever be is a title. I’d never be your true equal. And… I can’t keep living a lie. I won’t waste my entire life pretending to be happy when I’m not.”

Cal’s lip trembles, and I know he’s fighting to keep himself from falling apart. I draw a wavering breath and continue, “So you can’t have both. You have to choose- and whatever you decide will be final. I won’t put myself through this again.”

“And what if I can’t decide?”

Any hope I have is lost. I was a fool to think he still cared for me at all. “Then I’ll decide for you.” He grabs my wrist before I can turn away, a question in his eyes. My breath catches in my throat.

His lips meet mine in a feverous, needy kiss. I fist my hands in the black silk of his shirt, desperate for more. I melt against him, the curves of our bodies fitting together perfectly.

The sweep of his tongue over mine tells me he truly does still love me and he’ll never leave. His fingers digging into the flesh of my hips tell me he never wants to be apart again. The saltwater on my cheeks tells him I never want him to let me go. I thread my fingers in his hair, tugging him closer, closer, closer. For a moment, I lose myself in him. I can imagine that it’s just the two of us and that’s all there will ever be. No war, no blood feud, no one to come between us.

Then the brush of metal against my brow mocks me, jarring me back to reality. It reminds me why I cannot give myself to him. We can never exist in tandem, his crown and I. Our chests heave as I break the kiss, lips tingling. I step from his embrace, watching his hands curl around my ghost. His bronze eyes shimmer with hurt.

“Have you decided?”

The brittle silence fills the space with dread. Each second he doesn’t speak drives another nail into what’s left of my heart. His mouth gapes open, then closes again. I should have known this was coming.

“Give me until tomorrow to think.” His fingers brush my arm. “I need to sort out my thoughts-“

“Save it.” I shove him away, letting the sparks gathering in my palms burn against his chest. Furious with both him and myself, I quickly put as much distance between us as I can.

A thin blue line of flame stretches across the hall, halting me in my tracks. My lightning rises in response to the challenge. “Cal.”

“Always one for drama.” I want to kiss that damned smirk in his voice away. “Can you at least wait to storm off until I’ve finished talking?”

“Fine.” I cross my arms but refuse to look at him.

“What I was going to say,” he starts quietly, extinguishing the flame now that he’s confident I won’t flee, “was that I need time to decide how to tell my council that I want to step down.”

I glance back at him. “Step down?”

Tiberias gently grasps my hand, tugging until I face him fully. “It’s always been you, Mare. I was a fool to let you slip away. Now I know that I can’t live without you. Since you left, I can’t sleep, I barely eat. I wake up reaching for you every morning. When I think about the future, you’re always there.”

“And your crown?”

With light, careful fingers, he takes it from his head and admires the intricate handiwork. It is beautiful, not even I can deny that. Thin ropes of shimmering copper and strong iron twist over each other to form a thick woven band. Much more ornate than the raw iron one he wore when he was first crowned. His lips twitch in the faintest of smiles before he flicks his wrist, igniting a white-hot flame. The crown hisses and pops, turning a searing red.

“What are you doing?” I whisper, watching molten beads of metal drip to the floor, where they sizzle against the plush carpet like eggs in a frying pan.

“It’s just a useless hunk of metal.” He shrugs. “I’d rather have you.”

My mind is a whirlwind. I don’t know what to think. I’ve waited forever to hear him say those exact words, played the scenario out a million times in my head. I’d fold into his arms, sobbing because I was finally enough, he chose me, he chose me, he chose me. I’d kiss him again and again, determined to never let him slip away.

It hits me then. I’ve been using Cal’s betrayal as an excuse to cover up what I know is the truth. I cannot continue to pretend that it was solely his choice that keeps us apart. He alone cannot bear the blame.

“I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?” Hurt and confusion war in Cal’s beautiful face. The face that haunted my dreams for months, just out of reach. My chest feels hollow.

“I can’t do this- us.” I allow myself the small comfort of touching three fingers to the back of his hand. For once, he is cold. “Who will rule if you step down, Cal? Another Silver noble will step up to take your place and we’ll be right back where we started. Or worse, we’ll lose what little progress we’ve made. We can’t be together, no matter how much we want to be.”

He shakes his head, desperately clasping my hand. “No. Please, no. We can figure it out. I don’t have to do it right away, we can dissolve the monarchy and put a real government in place-“

“That could take years. Time we don’t have. My people are suffering- I have to do something tangible to help.” Gently, I remove my hand from his vicelike grip.

“And we aren’t right for each other. We both may burn, but for different reasons. Fire and lighting are made to destroy. They cannot coexist in a peaceful world.” With every word, I shatter a bit more. As much as I want to engulf myself in the warmth of his arms, I know it’s the wrong choice.

I almost lose my nerve when his Majesty, King Tiberias Calore VII, rightful Flame of the North, falls to his knees, tangles his fingers in my pants and begs. “Mare, please. I love you. I’m willing to give up everything I was meant for, turn my life around for you.”

I shake my head, tears splashing to the carpet. I know that there is no coming back from this. Once I walk away, I turn the page on this chapter of my life. I turn my back on the truest love anyone has ever been privileged to receive. If I do this, I leave Cal behind forever.

“Get up, Tiberias. Kings don’t kneel.”

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