#like Anya gives you the explanation behind the answer before the answer like are we understanding

[dykedvonte]

I haven’t really talked about Jimmy’s hallucinated version of Polle but I do subscribe to the idea that that is the closest thing to Anya’s true thoughts and feelings along with the representation of the hypothetical baby.

Text color, the whole horse attraction and monsters based on pregnancy/female anatomy, it joking about calling Jimmy old man? It’s both Jimmy purposely trying to ignore Anya and what he did but also not being able to cause he knows, in the back of his mind it all links back to her. But the closet thing he can accept about it is that it fostered something that would be undoubtedly linked to him.

It’s not exactly Anya and it’s not exactly the child. It’s his manifestation of all the things he would’ve failed doing for it and have already failed to take responsibility for. He failed as a decent person, a captain and he would’ve failed as a father which are all things Anya would subtly acknowledge throughout the game in little ways.

It specifically being Polle, the mascot to the Pony Express is more likely a call back to how the pony express is used to mean things that were never going to make it or were rearing for an end. It’s all symbolic and it’s all in Jimmy’s head because he refuses to acknowledge the real person and events his subconscious is basing it on.

[raccoonhearteyes]

Clarke vs. The Hot Customer

Meanwhile in DC, CIA Agent Lexa Woods and NSA Agent Anya Forrest sit across the desk with Homeland Security General Indra Beckman.  

Beckman starts, “Last night at 18:00, CIA operative Costia Daniels was killed in action. Before her death, she sent the entire Intersect Project to a civilian, a top-secret mission known only among those with the highest clearance in the CIA. The project consisted of every CIA mission and intel since the CIA’s founding in 1947. All contained in a supercomputer. The goal was for the intel to be downloaded into the human brain. While it has yet to be tested, it would give the agency’s top agents every piece of information necessary to complete their missions, without having to read every file, look through every photo, and analyze every document. This project is now in the inbox of one Clarke Griffin. As I’m sure you can guess, this is not ideal. The recipient’s unsecured g-mail means that every terrorist and their mother can track who it went to. And they will go after them without hesitation in order to get their hands on our intelligence.”

“Why did she send it to a civilian instead of a CIA contact?” Anya asks.

“We don’t know. As far as we can tell, she’s just some random college dropout. She works at a Buy-More. Your job is to find Clarke Griffin, find out what she knows, and download the e-mail yourselves so our nation’s secrets are not floating around in the head of some idiot civilian.”

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Clarke wakes up on her bedroom floor to the blaring alarm on her nightstand. She’s groggy, and doesn’t quite remember why she apparently passed out on the floor instead of changing into pajamas and climbing into her bed.

Slowly, the memories of last night trickle in. She remembers a hot pocket, going to her room to play video games, and… an e-mail from Costia? That can’t be right. They haven’t spoken in years… But she distinctly remembers getting an e-mail from her, then a bunch of weird pictures, and that’s it.

She goes over to her computer to try and reread the email, but the thing won’t turn on. It seems to be fried from the inside. “Great, so not only did Costia ruin my life, she sent me a computer virus that destroyed my computer?” Clarke wonders.

Clarke’s still a little woozy from the unending strobe light of incomprehensible images her brain was exposed to the night before, so she skips breakfast, and thanks her past self for not even changing out of her work clothes so she can just walk right out the door and head to the Buy-More.

Raven is sitting at the Nerd Herd help desk waiting for her.

“You never logged on to LoL last night,” Raven complains. “Yeah, I got a weird e-mail from Costia and it torpedoed my computer.”

“I’m sorry what? Costia? Costia Daniels? The one that ruined your life and got you stuck working at a Buy-More with me?”

“The one and only.”

“What did she want?”

“I don’t know. It was a weird e-mail. It spazzed through a bunch of images and then fried my hard drive.”

“What a bitch.” “Yup.”

It’s a slow day at the Buy-More so Raven and Clarke spend most of the day chit chatting about nothing, planning their next video game all-nighter, and talking about starting their own electronics company to beat out the Buy-More. It’s an idea they’ve talked about for years, but is nothing more than a pipe dream. Neither of them have the capital to get that thing off the ground. No matter how many engineering degrees Raven collects. Eventually they fall into a game of “Guess what that customer is thinking.”

“I am going to hoard this for when the nuclear apocalypse hits us and toilet paper is scarce,” Raven says about the guy with 100 rolls of toilet paper and nothing else in his cart.

“I need a copy of Die Hard for every TV in my house,” Clarke gruffs about the old many with 8 copies of Die Hard in his basket.

The two are so enthralled in their game that they hardly notice a customer approach the help desk.

In a high-pitched valley girl voice, Clarke says, “I’m getting this video camera so I can finally make a sex tape with my boyfriend!” Raven laughs way harder than Clarke thinks the joke earned, but then the customer clears her throat and Clarke whirls around. The customer raises her eyebrows in surprise.

“Um… I… did you? That wasn’t… Hi, welcome to the Nerd Herd. How can I help you?”

Clarke chokes on her tongue a little when she realizes just how beautiful the customer is. She’s wearing tight fitting jeans, a tank top, and an unbuttoned flannel over her shirt. Clarke’s gaydar lightly pings in the back of her mind. Her hair is a mane of curly brown locks. She has a pair of sunglasses perched on the top of her head, and the greenest eyes Clarke has ever seen. When her gaze flicks back up to make eye contact, there’s something… intense about the way this girl looks at her.

“I’ve been having phone troubles. It doesn’t seem to be receiving calls.”

“Can I have a name for the intake form?”

“Lexa.”

“Well Lexa, I’ll see what I can do.”

Clarke fiddles around with the phone, looking for external damage or immediately obvious reasons for malfunction. When she finds nothing evident, she tells Lexa, “It must be something internal, I’ll take it to the back and see what’s going on. Come back in about an hour, and it should be all set.”

“That sounds perfect. Thank you…” Lexa pauses waiting for a name

“Clarke.”

“Thank you, Clarke. I’ll see you in an hour.”

As Lexa turns to walk away, Clarke stares at her ass and says a quiet, “Bye Lexa.”

“HEY CLARKE! You telling this customer goodbye or are you announcing that you’re bi?” Raven says a little too loudly for it to not be intentional.

Lexa turns to flash a smile at Clarke, and Clarke turns to Raven and says, “Reyes, I will kill you in your sleep.”

An hour spent tinkering in the repair shop, and the phone is back to fully functional. Clarke waits at the help desk for Lexa to return. This time she ensures that she’s not mid-game so she doesn’t embarrass herself a second time in front of this customer. She most certainly notices when Lexa walks into the store. This time, the flannel is tied around her waist and Clarke stares at the tattoo curling around her bicep. Then she stares at the biceps themselves and considers tracing the lines with her tongue. Scolding herself for being just as big of a perv as fellow Nerd Herders Jasper and Monty, she smiles and pointedly does not stray from making eye contact. Lexa is less successful as she sneaks a peek down Clarke’s shirt that may have one or two fewer buttons done up this time around.

“What’s the verdict doc?” Lexa asks, leaning into Clarke’s space at the counter.

“All fixed,” Clarke smiles.

“How do I know it works?”

Clarke grins, “Aha, watch this.”

She digs her own phone out of her pocket and dials a number. She waits a few seconds until the phone in Lexa’s hand starts to vibrate and “NERD HERD HOTTIE” pops up on the screen.  

“See? Good as new”

“Thank you, Clarke. I really appreciate it,” Lexa says, and turns to leave the store. Clarke’s bubble of hope pops as she watches her walk away. But then, after a few steps, Lexa picks up her phone, scrolls through a screen and lifts the phone to her ear.

A few feet behind her, Clarke’s phone buzzes on the counter. She answers.

“Do you want to get dinner tonight?” Lexa asks.

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

They agree to meet at Grounders at 7:00. Lexa arrives 15 minutes early and waits at the entrance. She’s wearing a green button up, tight grey pants, and her hair is done up in a neat braid. She has a stun gun tucked into her jacket, a knife hidden in each boot, and a blade laced within the braid. But this is supposed to look like a first date, not a mission, so she tries to make herself look nervous by shifting her weight from one leg to the other, and gets ready to flirt some information out of her mark.

Clarke steps out of an Uber at 7:06 wearing a light blue sundress that makes her look even more like a ray of sunshine. It’s a stark contrast from the unisex Nerd Herd uniform, and Lexa can’t help but give her a once over. Twice maybe thrice if she’s being completely honest. “I thought you might have changed your mind,” Lexa confesses, looking at her watch.

“Of course not! Just bad LA traffic,” Clarke replies and leads them into the restaurant.

Conversation is easy. They make each other laugh. The waitress comes over three times in 45 minutes before either of them have even glanced at the menu. Lexa assures the waitress that they do, in fact, know how to read, and a few minutes later they actually order their food. Neither can stop themselves from long looks and bashful smiles. Clarke learns that Lexa just moved to town and is still looking for the right fit job. They talk about their childhoods and interests. Eventually, they stumble on the topic of whether or not it’s weird that Lexa asked out her phone repair woman. Clarke immediately reddens at the memory of the first words Lexa heard her say. Clarke apologizes for her having to overhear the game she plays with Raven at the Buy-More.

“Speaking of which, how does a girl as beautiful and smart as you end up working for the Nerd Herd?” Lexa asks incredulously.

“That’s kind of a long story. The spark notes version is that I am one semester shy of a computer science degree at Stanford. My senior year, my former best friend and roommate Costia framed me for cheating and got me kicked out of school. No explanation. Since then I haven’t really had the drive to finish the degree. Or trust anyone. I’ve really just been surviving ever since. No sense in living when everything you loved is gone, right? Sorry, that was probably a little heavy for a first date…”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Lexa assures. The name Costia did not go unnoticed, so Lexa presses on, “What ever happened to that Costia girl?”

“The funny thing is I haven’t really thought about her in a few years, but the last two days it’s been at nagging in my mind. I actually got an e-mail from her yesterday, but all it contained was a virus that fried my computer,” Clarke shrugs.

The waiter interrupts to fill their wine glasses, and Lexa’s opportunity to press more about this e-mail vanishes as Clarke switches the subject completely, and they fall back into easy conversation, longing and somewhat thirsty looks, and grinning at each other.

Lexa pays their check while Clarke runs to the bathroom, and they have decided that 3 hours taking up this restaurant’s table is probably long enough. Yes, it’s a mission, but Lexa is genuinely enjoying talking to this girl. She’s sweet and funny, and looks damn good in that dress.

“Can I drive you home?” Lexa asks.

The drive is a comfortable silence. Lexa’s hand rests on Clarke’s knee and mindlessly draws patterns on her thigh until Clarke intertwines their fingers. The drive ends too quickly as they pull up to the complex where Clarke lives.

Lexa walks Clarke to her door. Clarke’s walk slows to a crawl, trying to prolong her time with Lexa as much as possible. But the trip from the car to the stoop is only so long, so she settles for pretending to struggle to find her keys. God she wants to kiss her. She wants to kiss her so badly she hasn’t listened to a word Lexa has said because she can’t think about anything else. Lexa pauses in front of the door, and shuffles a bit closer to Clarke.

“Goodnight, Clarke”, she says as she leans in. Clarke closes her eyes in anticipation, and then feels Lexa’s lips land just left of the mark. Lexa places a chaste kiss on the corner of Clarke’s mouth, then turns to walk away. She turns back with a wink and a wave as Clarke unlocks her front door, and melts to a puddle once she’s crossed the threshold.

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

Lexa paces outside the front of the Buy-More while on the phone with the General. “Beckman, she’s just a normal girl. She hasn’t done anything wrong. I don’t even think the e-mail made it to her. She said she hasn’t heard from Costia since college!” “Agent Woods, Daniels was one of our top agents. There must be a reason she sent it to her. Now, go find out if she’s just a really good liar, or if she’s actually as innocent as you seem to think.” She hangs up without a greeting or dismissal.

Lexa tries to shake off the conversation, and walks through the Buy-More doors to go find Clarke, who at the moment is helping someone pick out a blender. Lexa pretends to be interested in a video camera and presses random buttons while waiting for Clarke to be free.

“Looking at cameras for our sex tape?” Clarke asks with a cheeky grin.

Lexa rolls her eyes and replies, “No, I was just in the neighborhood and wanted to say hi. I had fun last night.”

Clarke lights up with a goofy grin and thinks about how she didn’t kiss her last night. Clarke eyes her lips, and catches Lexa doing the same. She does a quick scan of the floor, hoping to confirm that no manager is there to catch her making out with a girl while on the clock. She’s made it almost a full 360 when it happens.

She sees a man standing in the DVD section. He doesn’t look that much different than a normal customer, but once she sees the scar on his neck, images flash before her eyes. The scar. The man’s name, and seven different aliases. A Russian Prison manifest. A rank within Russian Intelligence operations. They flash before her eyes in rapid succession, pulling the information to the forefront of her brain, and making her a little dizzy with the completely unconscious recall of information she doesn’t remember learning in the first place. The images stop and her eyes refocus

“Lexa, this is going to sound crazy, but that man in the DVDs section is a Russian spy and he

is armed to kill. Don’t ask me how I know that, I just do.”

 Clarke watches Lexa’s eyes widen in alarm. “Holy shit, you downloaded it.”

“What?”

“The Intersect.” “The what?” “I have to get you out of here.”

Lexa grabs Clarke’s hand and pulls her towards the back of the store.

“Lexa, what is going on.” She doesn’t answer. Instead she goes into the breakroom, punches a series of numbers into the vending machine, and watches the machine slide to the right to reveal a passageway. Lexa pulls Clarke through, ignoring her questions and utter shock at what is going on. Clarke is led down some stairs into a conference room with screens taking up a full wall, a wall full of weapons, and a video conference call happening at the table in the center. An angry looking Asian woman sits at the table talking to the screen with a black woman with more medals on her military coat than Clarke knew existed. 

Lexa interrupts their conversation with, “She’s the Intersect.”

“She what?”

“She’s the Intersect. She downloaded it. She just recognized a Russian operative upstairs.”

The other women in the room and on the screen look shocked and horrified.

“So it works?” the woman on the screen asks. “WILL SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON. WHERE AM I? WHAT IS THE INTERSECT? WHY IS THERE A SECRET BASE IN THE BUY-MORE? WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE?” Clarke yells, finally getting Lexa’s attention.

Lexa starts, “My name is Lexa Woods. I work for the CIA.”

“Anya Forrest, Colonel in the NSA.”

“And I’m General Indra Beckman, head of Homeland Security”

Clarke begins to laugh hysterically. “Did Raven put you up to this? She always goes WAY TOO BIG or way too small for pranks. Jeezus how much did she spend on this?!” She wanders the base touching weapons, poking screens, and searching for a hidden camera.

“This isn’t a joke, Miss Griffin,” Beckman interrupts.

The tone sobers Clarke immediately.

Beckman continues, “Three days ago, CIA operative Costia Daniels sent you an email. That email contained every secret the CIA has in what was called the Intersect Project. That information is now in your head. Until a new Intersect can be built, the CIA and NSA’s number one priority will be protecting you.”

“I’m sorry, what now?” Clarke asks.

“You will assist in missions as needed.”

Clarke is, again, much too stunned to grasp anything that was just said. Instead, she asks every question that has run through her mind since she thought she was about to kiss Lexa at work to the current moment. Costia was CIA? Why did she send it to me? How does it work? Can I get it removed? You’re sure this isn’t an over the top prank? Costia is dead?

Lexa, Anya, and Beckman patiently answer every question Clarke has. For the most part, they are very understanding of the barrage of questions. The questions continue for about thirty minutes, but eventually die down. This is real. Clarke will be working with the CIA. Other countries will try to find the Intersect, so she is in danger. She is now their most important asset, and they will protect her at all costs. She doesn’t really have a choice in this.

“I didn’t ask for this,” Clarke states. “We know, but your country is calling,” Beckman answers.

General Beckman hangs up the call, Anya goes back to cleaning an enormous gun, Lexa starts to organize files, and Clarke… Clarke sits at the table staring at her hands. Deep in thought, and too stunned to form coherent thoughts. After ten minutes, she takes a deep breath and addresses Lexa.

“So that date then?”

Lexa reads the implied question and answers, “Was part of my mission to find out what you knew.”

“Ah.”

“Clarke.”

“I don’t know why I thought it was anything else. No one that model hot dates a girl from the Nerd Herd. Is that like a requirement for spy work?”

Lexa cocks her head like a confused puppy.

Clarke glances between Anya and Lexa, and waggles her fingers between the two of them. “You know, the mind-blowing hotness? I mean, it works. Girl that looks like you asks me to jump off the roof and I’d probably do it without asking any follow up questions. Of course it was all fake. You’re probably straight. Really deluded myself into this one. Big yikes.”

Anya looks up from the barrel of her gun and chuffs, “Definitely not straight”

Lexa blushes but doesn’t disagree with Anya. Instead she addresses Clarke directly. “You do realize that we will need to continue dating, right?”

Clarke continues rambling to herself about being an idiot for thinking a girl like Lexa was into her, but then the content of Lexa’s question sinks in. Her brain jolts like a record scratch. “Huh?”

“It’s the perfect cover for why I’m suddenly in your life and may suddenly vanish from it. I can keep a close eye on you when you’re not at work, and it won’t seem suspicious if I stay over. During the day, Anya will work at the Buy More with you.”

Clarke still hasn’t wrapped her head around “continue dating” so instead asks, “I’m dead, right? That Russian operative in DVDs killed me and I’m bleeding out on the Buy-More floor, right? Because there is no way the US government just asked me to fake date a bombshell agent for the safety of our country.”

Anya finishes reassembling her gun, looks up at the newly christened fake couple, and says, “Believe it, babe.”

[paipayaseeds]

As viewers would about to discover, whatever contents that had been in Anya's pockets didn't matter. : )

---------

78%....

79%

88%...

97%...98%..99%..100%.

Granting administrative permission to 'wake up.'

Yes No<

Yes < No

Yes < No

Understood. Please hold while neuron signals are sending to control center.

.

.

.

.

.

Welcome back, Hoshiyama, Anya.

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

Bright lights blurred her already Impaired vision as she opened her eyes slowly but surely as she reintroduced herself back to the world, eyebrows furrowed both from her lack of glasses.. And from the sudden odd dream from just a minute ago. Though, before she could begin to question anything, she had MUCH bigger problems.

Problem one: .. She was extremely cold. So cold in fact, that her body began to shiver, actual slight bits of ice being on her hand. She knew her body's homeostasis had been off but, this.. This was ridiculous. Why was she this cold in the first place?!

Problem Two: She had a SPLITTING headache, causing her to make a low whining sound. She slowly moved her arm to her head holding it in hopes the pain would cease soon. Why the hell had she been like this in the first place.. Why was she in pain?.. Did.. Is the game over?Did she..

No.

She needed time to think.

For now.. Where was she?

She decided to answer that herself, her vision clearing finally to reveal an investigating Shuichi, Kaede, and a saddened space himbo-I mean Kaito. She wanted to get her notebook but.. It wasn't on her. If only she could... If she could...

....

..

"Shhh... Shuuuu.. Shuichi..?"

-------

Kaede watched Kaito and Shuichi, having been about to calm the situation until a quiet and frail 'Shuichi' was heard. It was a voice very unfamiliar to her that's for sure.

She looked around the room to see who could've done it but.. Everyone was doing their own thing.. So.. Who was..

Her eyes widened, slowly looking back, then down at the source. It was then she realized the source of the voice was new because,

It belonged to the Ultimate Violinist. The late Violinist.. But.. Then..

How was she..?

"A-A-Anya..?!Oh my god oh I-Rantaro!Kirumi!EVERYBODY!"

Without a real explanation she grabbed Shuichi's hand from the pocket and got on her knees, softly plopping a confused and tired Anya's head on to her lap without any real hesitation. She didn't seem to mind the remaining bits of blood that had been on her skirt now.

"H-Hey Anya can you..oh my gosh how are you even.?!"

Miu had been confused at the blondes yelling. She rolled her eyes as if she's been inconvenienced by the girl.

"What the fuck you WWWWWWHAT THE FUCK-"

"Oh dear it.. It seems our Violinist wasn't deceased after all.."

Angie peaked over the Anthropologist shoulder before a relieved squeal left her. "Nya haha!It seems the Killing Game never started!"

"Anya alive?"

"Y-yea?Is this ice?!How is she this cold? Anya can you.. You can hear me right?"

A small shivering nod is all the small girl could manage at the moment.

Shuichi tensed as he heard his name, eyes widening as he could feel movement against his hand that had been shuffling in the pocket of Anya. He... He imagined that, right? 

He looked over to Kaito and turns out he wasn’t the only one who heard the meek voice cue, he could tell by Kaito's own shocked face. Shuichi wasn't sure whether to be relieved or fearful; it... sounded like Anya, but she was dead, right?

Instead of reacting like a normal person — aka Kaito who had practically been screaming Anya's name — Shuichi began doing what he did best, investigating and detecting. He looked more or less, pretty calm even as Kaede took his hand out of her pocket, even as Anya nodded like an alive person would.

There was practically no reasonable reason why she was alive, why she was now conscious. It bothered Shuichi — but as everyone started crowding the girl, he realized it probably shouldn't have. I mean, he should be relieved, right? He couldn't lie, he did feel relieved that she was alive - but,,, how? Why? Wasn't it too good to be true? It wasn't humanly possible... Her blood loss.. She wasn't even breathing —

Rantaro's small, but careless nudge to Shuichi broke him out of his uncertain state. Shuichi could only watch in stunned shock as Rantaro quickly collapsed to Anya's side, only gawking at her in hesitation awe as he was afraid if he touched her, he would lose her once again. A miracle; that seemed to be the only reasonable explanation as to why she was alive, but little did they know... Even miracles don't happen like this without sensible reason.

Even so; Rantaro, nor Kaito could give less of a shit. She was alive, nothing else mattered.

With a voice quiet and broken from pure worry, Rantaro couldn't help but grab the trembling girl's hand as he tried speaking to her, "... Anya, why did you-" He creased his brow and gulped down the thickening lump in his throat; he would ask her about what she had done later, right now, his priority was her prolonging her conscious state. "Just- Just listen to my voice, okay..? Don't fall asleep." He was somehow able to calm himself through it all, all the pain, confusion and panic; he was able to conceal it with an assuring grin.

Looking around the room in urgency, Rantaro's face hardened as his mind immediately started grinding for ways to keep her awake, and to treat her wound. "She can't lose any more blood. We have to take her to the- No, there's no... Argh... Does anybody have any- any bandages? Any clean clothing?" With a voice fast and slightly panicked, Rantaro struggled as he tried to think of other ways to prolong her conscious state, he wasn't sure he could take it if he lost her for the second time.

As if things could get any worse(or better), Kokichi decided to pop out from behind the crowd that had practically swallowed the short boy whole. There he stood, in all his glory, waving a small box of Toy Story bandages. "That'll stop the bleeding for sure, nishishi! Look, it says, '#1 recommended brand for minor injuries'!" Kaito looked at him in shock, "Does her head bleeding and skin ice-cold, seem minor to you!?"

Kokichi promptly ignored Kaito and ripped open the box in an inconvenient way, taking out a few before applying a good 3 to her ouchie.

To his very own surprise, Rantaro didn't even stop him.

Why didn't he stop him-

"... I'll run to the dining room quickly to retrieve the first aid kit; I've used it before, and there should be some... real and effective gauze to stop the bleeding, as well as supplies to clean her head. I won't be long." Kirumi, without another word, excused herself and hurried out the door, an urgency in her step — greatly differing from her usually calm and graceful walk.

Kaito gulped as he could feel the urge to just cradle her in his arms, nearly take over her. But he couldn't, it'd be reckless, and they certainly didn't need reckless. Already shrugging off his jacket, Kaito took a knee and softly draped his jacket over her without a word, pursing his lips as he could feel Rantaro's questioning gaze on him.

Kaito's eyes widened in shock as his hand just briefly brushed against her skin, it was as if she was freshly taken out of a freezer. "Anya, y- you're shivering, is that- is that- what does that mean??" His first instinct was to look at Rantaro for any type of help, but he forcefully jerked his head towards Kaede instead.

"Maybe she's a vampire! Or better, a zombie!" Kaito paled, frantically looking at Kokichi for any indicator that he was — oh god, please be — joking.

[vampiregirl1797]

Time Travel & Epic Loves Chapter Three

Gif Not Mine

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

Warnings: Tatia being jealous, some fluff, otherwise none i don't think?

Word Count: 3,307

A few days later, Klaus returned to his full health, the wounds on his back healing much quicker than they should have. Thankfully, due to what they knew about Anya, they didn’t question it, probably assuming the salve and tea had supernatural properties. Not even Katherine knew I had been slipping a few drops of my blood into the tea to aid with the healing and pain. Mikael and Ester didn’t appear to notice he had been missing, or they didn’t care enough to enquire about his whereabouts. Though, Elijah, Rebekah, Henrik and Kol had been frequent visitors. Finn didn’t come around once, but that didn’t surprise me. Kat and I had treated Elijah rather coldly during his visits, though Katherine’s anger eventually thawed when he saw how forlorn the elder Mikaelson was over what had happened to his brother. Personally, it was going to take a lot longer for me to be able to be civil towards him. I knew about Mikael’s abuse, of course, but hearing about it and witnessing it were two very different things. From what I heard Bekah had actually tried to kill and stop Mikael on multiple occasions, while Elijah never interfered. Kol had helped us, and I knew he was usually tasked with the responsibility of keeping Henrik away, not wanting the youngest Mikaelson to witness something so horrific, only the other day that task had fallen to Bekah, which explained their absence. Nik may not hold any grudges, but when I returned to the future Elijah was getting an ass kicking.

 Anaya was confident she was almost ready to perform the spell—it would be done on the night of the next full moon, which was when Katherine and I suspected that Henrik was going to fall victim to the wolves. We had both been keeping our distance from the Mikaelson’s when we realised this, both fighting the guilt that came from knowing we could save Henrik. But we knew that if Henrik didn’t die, Ester wouldn’t go on to create vampirism. It made me sick to my stomach, because I felt like I was selfishly deciding everyone’s fate. But if we saved Henrik, too much would change and we couldn’t take that risk. I just hoped they would forgive me.

 ‘The full moon is in a week.’ Katherine said casually as we hung out our laundry to dry.

 ‘I know.’ I mumbled, glancing beyond the trees, where I knew the Mikaelson residence to be.

 ‘Are you going to say goodbye?’ She asked quietly, her gaze following mine.

 ‘I think I have to.’ I bit my lip. If I didn’t, it was possible Nik would come looking for me when his brother died, I couldn’t bear him finding out that I was no longer here at the time of him dealing with the loss of his youngest brother.

 ‘Me too. How much will this change? I mean, Elijah and Klaus won’t recognise me when they meet me in five hundred years.’ She looked over to me, her expression soft, ‘but Klaus will recognise you when he meets you in that bar. He’s going to wonder how you were alive.’

 ‘I’ll think of something.’ I assured her, an idea already forming in my head, but until I knew it was possible, I was going to keep it to myself.

 I could tell that she knew I was holding back information, but before she could push me, there was a knock at the door. We shared a look before we both went to the doorway and hesitantly pushed the door open. I couldn’t stop the bright smile from forming on my face when I saw whom it was. Elijah was enamoured with Katherine while Nik and I were drinking each other in. We’d been avoiding them for a few days, but it felt like so much longer; in the future we were inseparable and if the whole family wasn’t hanging around together, we were with our partners.

 ‘Hello ladies, we were wondering if you would accompany us to the feast this evening?’ Nik asked, but his eyes remained glued to mine.

 Katherine and I shared a look, the guilt clear in our eyes, but I knew neither of us would say no either.

 ‘Of course.’ Katy answered for the both of us and just like that we were walking towards the village. My arm was linked through Nik’s as we trailed behind Katherine and Elijah.

 ‘I haven’t seen you for a few days. I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.’ Nik teased but I could hear his underlying insecurity.

 ‘I got my monthly bleed, I tend to avoid everyone during that time.’ I told him, hiding a smile when he looked a little embarrassed.

 ‘I apologise, I didn’t mean to impose.’ He ducked his head and I squeezed his arm a little tighter in assurance.

 ‘It’s fine. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I wanted to see you but I tend to be… out of sorts.’ I bit my lip, my guilt growing as I fed the lie.

 ‘You don’t owe me an explanation, Arianna.’ He assured me, offering me a shy smile when my eyes met his.

 I couldn’t help it, I never could. This wasn’t a side of him I got to see very often and when he allowed it out, I always reacted the same way. We came to a sudden stop when I tugged on his arm, he frowned, concerned but I paid him no mind as I reached up to place a kiss onto his mouth. He didn’t respond for a moment but his hesitation only lasted a second before his hands wound around my waist and he kissed me back with just as much passion. I pulled back before it could get too far, resting my forehead against his as we both caught our breath.

 His hand came up to gently caress the side of my face and I felt my heart clench at the affectionate look he was giving me in that moment. His eyes were so soft, so open, and I couldn’t tell you how long it had taken for me to break down future Nik’s walls so that he would look at me like that.

 ‘Ari! Niklaus! Don’t fall too far behind now you two.’ Katy’s teasing voice pulled us out of our moment. Nik’s cheeks tinted red and I took his hand to reassure him.

 ‘Yeah, yeah, we’re coming Katy.’ I rolled my eyes and pulled on Nik’s hand to start us walking again.

 When we reached the feast, the party appeared to be in full swing. I saw Tatia sat around the fire talking to a young girl, but it was if she sensed when we arrived. Her eyes looked up from the small blonde and over to us. When she saw that Nik and Elijah had Katherine and I on their arms, her eyes narrowed and I couldn’t help but bite back a smirk.

 ‘Nik! Arianna! Katarina! Elijah! Over here.’ Bekah called each of us over to the large table she was sat around with Finn, Kol and Henrik. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that Ester and Mikael were nowhere to be seen.

 There were enough seats to seat all of us comfortably. I ended up in between Bekah and Nik; Katy and Elijah were across from me, Kol was on Bekah’s other side and Henrik and Finn were sitting at the ends of the table.

 ‘Who cooked this?’ I asked after taking a bite of the stew I had been handed by Bekah.

 ‘I did.’ The blonde announced, biting her lip.

 ‘It’s delicious.’ I told her, smiling when she beamed, ‘I’ve never been much of a good cook.’

 ‘I can teach you, if you’d like.’ She answered.

 ‘That might be dangerous for everyone involved,’ Katy snorted in between bites of her own food.

 I laughed at her teasing and threw a loose stone at her that I found on the ground. It hit her square in the forehead and landed in her food. Katherine’s expression was one of complete shock as she looked in between me and her bowl of half-finished food that she could no longer eat.

 ‘You little—,’ she started but when Elijah placed a calming hand on her arm, her jaw snapped shut.

 ‘There’s plenty more to go around, Katarina.’ The elder Mikaelson assured her, mirth and assurance dancing in his eyes.

 Katherine nodded, managing to shake herself out of her daze and giving me a glare.

 ‘I’ll get you back for that, Ari.’

 ‘I don’t doubt it.’ I winked at her, causing her annoyance to melt into amusement and soon we were all laughing.

 We finished our food and the conversation was flowing freely, like it always did when we were together. Though the presence of Finn and Henrik was a little different. Henrik was lovely, sweet and innocent. Honestly, in a way he reminded me of Nik. His hair was lighter, he had dimples, but he had a cheeky streak he got from Kol. It was easy to pretend Finn wasn’t there as he only spoke five words in the course of three hours, which I was grateful for; the eldest Mikaelson and I didn’t have the best history. Henrik was in the middle of telling a story about a deer he had managed to get close enough to feed an apple when he was interrupted.

 ‘And I was bringing the water up to my lips, I was so thirsty and when I heard a twig snapped behind me I turned around really slowly—,’ the annoyed look Henrik gave Tatia when she approached our table and cut into the conversation didn’t escape anyone’s notice.

 ‘May I join you?’ She asked with a smile directed at Nik and Elijah. I hid a smirk when Nik didn’t even glance in her direction, his hand was currently holding mine underneath the table and when she spoke he rubbed his thumb back and forth comfortingly.

 ‘Sorry, but we don’t have any room. Be on your way now.’ Katherine said in a tone that wasn’t sorry at all. I bit back a laugh and cleared my throat, deciding to at least attempt being civil.

 Katherine hadn’t really been lying; there weren’t any chairs free, after all.

 ‘Sure you can,’ I offered her a forced bright smile. Tatia smirked and walked over to where I was sitting, probably expecting me to get up and leave. Who did she think she was, royalty?

 I offered her a smirk of my own as I slid from my seat and onto Nik’s lap in one smooth movement. Nik stiffened in surprise for the briefest of moments before one of his hands went to my hip to hold me in place and the other took my hand again. Tatia glared at me and took the empty seat with a huff, crossing her arms over her chest and sulking like a child. Katy and I shared a look before I rolled my eyes and started running my free hand through Nik’s curls, a habit I had picked up over the years. I smiled when I saw his eyes flutter as if he were struggling to keep them open.

 ‘So, Henrik you were saying?’ I prompted him, genuinely wanting to hear the rest of his story.

 The youngest Mikaelson’s expression brightened as he dove into the rest of the tale, telling us how he had pulled out an apple he had picked on his journey down to the stream from his satchel. He had been planning to have it as a snack on the way back, but instead he held it out for the deer to eat. When it had taken the fruit, Henrik had been both delighted and amazed.

 ‘Father would not be pleased at that wasted opportunity, Henrik. Animals are for food, not to be fed by you.’ Finn berated him. I sent him a glare, feeling everyone else at the table do the same before I looked over to Henrik and offered him a bright smile, wanting the sadness in his eyes to go away.

 ‘I wish I could do that, for some reason whenever an animal sees me, it runs the other way.’ I frowned, leaning forward on Nik’s lap a little more to get a clearer view of the youngest Mikaelson, ‘what’s your secret?’

 Henrik’s smile was brighter than the sun as he laughed. Nik’s hand went to my lower back, rubbing small circles of appreciation for subtly telling Henrik that liking animals was nothing to be ashamed of.

 ‘You have to be calm and show no fear,’ Henrik shrugged like it was no big deal, but his grin was proud.

 ‘You’ll have to teach me sometime.’ I told him, genuinely meaning it.

 ‘For sure.’ Henrik promised me.

 ‘Careful there, Nik, it looks like you have competition for Arianna’s affections.’ Kol teased, leaning forward and ruffling Henrik’s hair. He blushed and batted away his brother’s hand in annoyance and embarrassment.

 We all chuckled, well everyone aside from Finn and Tatia. Maybe they would have been better together? They weren’t easily pleased; maybe they could please each other? It wasn’t long after that Finn excused himself to take Henrik home, much to his displeasure; he didn’t like that he had to go to bed so much earlier than all of his other siblings. Finn however seemed overjoyed that his mother had given him the task to take his brother home at the right time, so there was that at least.

 ‘So, Katarina, Arianna, where are you both from?’ Tatia asked and I flat out ignored her, sending Katy a look to let her know she could take this one.

 My hand was still running through Nik’s hair, and I knew I was being more affectionate than this Nik was used to, but I couldn’t help it. This was how I was used to acting around him, and now that I had literally been placed onto his lap, trying to keep my hands to myself was pointless. But the guilt over Henrik was still bouncing around in my gut, I knew there was nothing I could do about it, but it didn’t help the ache. Nik detangled his hand from mine and brushed my hair behind my ear to caress my cheek.

 ‘What’s on your mind, love?’ he asked quietly, both of us ignoring the conversation happening around us. I leaned into his touch, enjoying the familiar warmth as I stared into his beautiful blue eyes that were full of concern.

 ‘I-I think I’m a little tired. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude.’ I stuttered, looking down to my hands that were twiddling nervously in my lap. His index finger came underneath my chin and gently tilted my head until I met his eyes again.

 ‘You have nothing to apologise for. Come, I’ll walk you back to your hut.’ He said, waiting for me to stand up off his lap before pushing himself from his chair. I reached for his hand as soon as he was on his feet, another force of habit. Now that I had given in there was nothing stopping me, and so touching him at this point was basically muscle memory. Now that I wasn’t focusing on holding myself back, my body was falling into familiar habits.

 ‘I’m going to take Arianna back to her hut and then I’m going home.’ Nik told the others.

 ‘Okay, goodnight.’ Bekah smiled at me, ‘maybe you, Katarina and I can take a walk tomorrow? I think that would be lovely.’

 ‘It would. Come to our hut when you wish to leave?’ I said, squeezing her hand as I passed by her. She grinned and nodded. I gave everyone else a wave, ignoring Tatia’s sour face as Nik and I started walking away from the main part of the village.

 ‘You don’t really talk about where you’re from.’ Nik commented after a while.

 ‘I don’t like to talk about it.’ I lied, biting my lip and vowing to apologise profusely to Nik when I got back to my time, ‘my parents only saw me as a pawn to enhance their wealth. They promised my hand to a brute of a man. I didn’t want to marry him, so I ran away. Katarina was a friend of mine in our village, she was in a similar predicament and so she came with me.’

 ‘You’re very strong. It’s one of the things I like about you.’ He smiled his dimpled smile.

 ‘One of the things?’ I mused, taking his other hand with my free one so all of our hands were entwined as I turned him to face me, ‘what else do you like about me?’

 ‘You’re brave, compassionate, loyal, protective, funny… beautiful.’ He kissed my forehead and I felt my eyes close at the sensation. When I opened them I noticed he didn’t move away. Our lips were only an inch apart.

 ‘One of the things I like about you is how strong you are, too.’ I murmured, wanting him to hear the words.

 ‘What else?’ he breathed and the desperation in his eyes made my heart ache.

 ‘You’re sweet, kind, funny, loyal, gentle, talented and powerful.’ I told him, moving forward just a little more, I could feel his lips press against mine as I spoke, but it was only a whisper of a touch.

 Nik’s hands untangled from mine and went to my waist, gently pulling my body flush against his. My own hands went to his biceps and then slid up to his shoulders. Before I could blink, his lips were on mine. But this kiss was different than the one we had shared on my first night. This was soft, slow and filled with so much emotion it made my knees weak. As if he could sense it, he held me tighter against him, his hand splaying across my lower back. It didn’t go any further and I was a little surprised. When I had first arrived, I was aware I had been a distraction, but tonight had been the first indication that he actually cared for me. It made my dead heart pound and filled my stomach with butterflies. A part of me wondered if the whole evening had been a ploy to make Tatia jealous, but the look in his eyes told me it wasn’t. It was a look I had been on the receiving end of many times in fifty years. He was looking at me how my Nik looked at me, with complete adoration and... love. It made my breath catch in my throat. I leaned forward and kissed his cheek, before offering him my hand to continue walking back to my hut. He cleared his throat and took it, both of us sharing a soft smile as we continued on in comfortable silence.

 When we finally reached our destination, I couldn’t help but cling to his hold a little tighter, not wanting him to go. Both Katy and I hadn’t been sleeping well the whole time we had been here; when you’re used to sleeping next to someone for five decades, it’s hard to suddenly have him not there. Thankfully he didn’t comment on my reluctance and he pressed a kiss to my forehead.

 ‘Goodnight, Arianna.’ He whispered, but I stopped him as he went to leave.

 ‘Wait. Do you… will you stay with me?’ I asked so quietly I wondered if his human ears would be able to detect the sound.

 ‘Of course I will,’ he offered me a soft smile when I looked up to meet his gaze.

 Without another word, we went inside and for the first time since I had entered that century, I had a peaceful nights sleep.

[aphrodites-law]

My Favorite

Trope: Soulmate marks.

Twist: Lexa doesn’t have one. Clarke does.

5/? - (Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4)

~

Clarke 🙊

You didn’t miss much at the party- so much dancing and then it rained!

Maybe I can show you another part of town next Friday?

The days went by slowly. Lexa had deconstructed the routine she’d enjoyed the last few weeks, her chest still aching from the decision she'd made. She liked Clarke - there was no denying that. She’d gravitated toward her while she peacefully read in an armchair and the attraction had only grown since. Cutting her out completely wasn’t the solution. Now that Lexa knew Clarke had a soulmate, all she needed to do was swallow back those feelings. Lexa knew they could be friends afterward - there was no reason not to be. Clarke’s qualities hadn’t suddenly disappeared because they didn’t have a romantic future. 

Maybe one day they would even laugh about this. About how they’d flirted over pool and old fashioned cocktails and gelatos. Clarke would be with her soulmate and Lexa-

Lexa would have someone too. Someone she’d be free to love with her entire soul without a limited timeline looming over them. Someone she would be enough for. 

~

On Friday, Lexa had driven from the school to Coffee on the Moon. She missed  the drinks and food, but mostly she knew she couldn’t lock herself in her apartment forever. If she wanted her future in this city, she needed to work for it. Driving from the school to her place every day was no way to live. More than that, it wasn’t how Lexa wanted to live. She didn’t know how she’d gotten to be so morose. On some days it was harder to fight than others. But she’d picked herself up before and she could do it again. 

“Look who the shitty weather finally dragged in,” Raven announced when she saw her.

 It was said jokingly, which Lexa wasn’t sure what to make of. Maybe Clarke hadn’t told her anything about her unanswered texts. Lexa had stared at them a long time, drafting and erasing an apology dozens of times. But what could she say that didn’t sound like the most selfish of excuses? Sorry that I need time to squash my feelings before I can be your friend? Sorry that I would never be enough for you? It wasn’t like Clarke had led her on. She’d probably thought Lexa knew about her mark. And it’d been her mistake not to double-check with the registry. 

“Rain and quizzes to evaluate,” she told Raven.

“Quizzes on your second week? Harsh.”

Lexa shook her head while closing her umbrella. What an odd summer this was. “They’re not graded. I’m just trying to get a sense of where everyone is at.”

“You want a regular?” Raven asked as she went to the coffee machine.

“Please. And a turkey and cheese.”

Raven rung her up and then walked with her to the corner table, where Lexa sat after doing a quick glance around. It was moderately busy for a rainy Friday afternoon.

“So how d’you like the job?” Raven asked her.

“It’s good. Great. The kids are already in the rhythm of things.”

“Kids adapt fast. What about the teachers? Did you meet Octavia?”

“Is she a substitute? I heard about her, but I don’t think she’s been around yet.”

“She might’ve been. O can be a bit of a ninja. I’ll tell her to keep an eye out for you.”

“Oh that’s not-“

“What about that bald bitch Titus?”

Lexa pressed her lips together. “Well... that’s one way to describe him.”

“Titus was my history teacher. Been around for as long as dinosaurs roamed the earth, I swear.”

“I noticed the antiquated belief system he has, yes.”

Raven frowned. “Is he giving you trouble?”

“Not really. If anything he’s made it clear we won’t be having any discussions at all.”

“Don’t feel bad, it might not even be a mark thing - he’s a famous grouch.”

Lexa wrapped her hands around her coffee cup. “It’s always a mark thing, Raven.”

“Well color me shocked he’s still a dick,” Raven sighed. “I’ll leave you to it, but let me know if you need anything.”

Lexa ate a few bites of her sandwich before she finally took out the quizzes from her briefcase.

~

An hour later, just as Lexa thought to finish at home, she felt herself tense and looked up. She saw Clarke through the window of the shop and clutched the paper she was holding tightly. Clarke was closing her umbrella and ran a hand through her hair before pushing open the door to the shop. She brightened at the warmth of the place and then stopped when her eyes caught Lexa.

Lexa knew she should have looked away, or maybe even gotten up, but she was frozen in place and the past few days seemed to have gone straight down the drain. Her feelings had escaped their carefully constructed cage and her heart had joined in.

Clarke walked toward her with a small smile, not quite the grin Lexa had memorized, but... tender nevertheless. 

Hi, Clarke signed. 

Lexa smiled back but felt sudden despair. She couldn’t do this - not yet. Clearly she needed more time before she could even look at Clarke without wanting to gift her the goddamn moon. No, she couldn’t go back on what she’d insisted was the right decision. 

She mouthed a weak Hey in return until she finally had to look away. A few seconds later, her phone lit up with a notification. 

Can we chat?

Clarke pointed at the chair in front of hers, sending Lexa into a panic.

“I actually- I need to finish some work,” she answered. 

She briefly looked up and saw Clarke mouth, ‘Tomorrow?’

“I can’t. I was... I was planning on building this bookshelf I got."

Clarke bit her lip, then texted something quickly. She gave Lexa a hopeful look.

I can help. I'm handy with tools.

Lexa couldn’t stand it anymore. “I just need to be alone, Clarke.”

Clarke's smile slowly fell as she understood it wasn't a time constraint that kept Lexa from hanging out with her. She put her phone in her pocket before nodding weakly and turning away. She didn’t say goodbye to Raven as she left the shop, pulling the door closed behind her with a harsh click. 

Lexa watched as she opened her umbrella and rushed away. Furious at her own self, Lexa quickly put the rest of the quizzes in her briefcase and got up.

“Woa wait, what was that about?” Raven asked as she walked by.

“Nothing. I - there was a misunderstanding.”

“Really? So you didn’t go out with her and then completely ignore her?”

Lexa stopped in her tracks. She hadn’t expected Raven to be so friendly before if she’d known all along. “I didn’t know she... Anya told me she didn’t have a mark and I-“

“Oh again with the mark.”

“You wouldn’t get it.”

“Try me.”

Lea frowned. “You know how it feels to be the layover.”

“Yeah it fucking sucks, so what? She’s crazy about you.”

Lexa swallowed hard. “She’ll get over me. Everyone does.”

Raven stepped closer to her. “You like her, too.”

“I'm working on that.”

“No, I think you’re in deep.”

“You barely even know me.”

Raven didn’t seem impressed by the sharp rebuttal. “You express ordered like 10 books on ASL.”

Lexa struggled to close her briefcase with how shaky her hands had gotten in her haste. “I’m going to kill Anya.”

“Save your energy. You know, for someone who hates the mark so much, you sure obsess over it a lot.”

Lexa’s head snapped up. “I’m trying to protect myself.”

Raven laughed. “From who? That woman who just walked out looking like you already broke her heart? She’s been asking to be with you ever since you met and you’re going to sweep that under the rug because of a mark that - by the way? Might as well not even exist anymore at the rate it’s disappearing. But you wouldn’t know that since you ran before using your own damn words.”

Lexa exhaled, bottom lip trembling as she realized she’d effectively pushed Clarke away without an explanation.

“You don’t understand. I put myself out there and... for a while it works, I’m happy, but then someone else says something or... or it just peters out and I don’t even know why. I don’t know but the world is convinced that it’s because there’s something so wrong with me that I don’t have the ability to be with someone, let alone someone with a mark. So what if it’s true? How can I be with Clarke when I know there’s someone out there who- who could give her better?"

"You know I’m not the one you should be telling this, right?”

Lexa stopped fighting the welling of tears in her eyes. She was so tired of it all. 

“Hey, Lexa?” Raven asked quietly. “It seems to me like your idea of protecting yourself is just hurting you a whole lot more.”

-

Part 6

[plagueamon]

Code Geass MBTI Challenge Turn 9: Kyoshiro Tohdoh - ISTJ

With the exception of Anya and a few members of the Akito the Exiled cast, Kyoshiro Tohdoh is the character on our list with probably the least amount of information about his personal thoughts, views and experiences. With that in mind, I still think that the show gives us just enough of a glimpse into his personality in order to be able to type him accurately, to the point where I actually had to retype him a few times and overall was given more to think about than I originally expected. Before I start explaining this character’s functions, please keep in mind, that this post will contain heavy Code Geass spoilers, so consider yourselves warned. With that out of the way, let us analyse why Kyoshiro Tohdoh is an ISTJ.

Dominant Introverted Sensing/Si

Tohdoh’s Si is actually very comparable to Ohgi’s, because they value very similar things, but diverge in what further conclusions they do with those values based on their auxiliary and tertiary functions (this is coincidentally perhaps the best opportunity we will ever have to compare an ISFJ to an ISTJ). Much like Ohgi, Tohdoh largely bases his values around Japanese tradition, however he does not see them as something to be explored and shared with others (Ti and Fe), so mach as he uses it to dictate the rules he wants to see himself and his surrounding world world to develop in accordance with (Fi and Te). This sometimes makes him appear much more narrow-minded than he actually is, simply because he has a very specific idea of what he wants to achieve for Japan and for himself and is very determined to make it a reality. In truth he is actually very capable of applying this personal system of principles to others, which is what makes him a competent teacher and role model for Suzaku.

A common trait of dominant Si-users in fiction is that they can be both idealistic and practical in their mindset, with Si being tied to tangible evidence and facts by being a sensing function, while also being introverted and therefore highly subjective and personal to the user. Tohdoh himself embodies this balance quite well: we often see him talk in ways that are sentimental, with topics like honour and his hopes and fears for Japan’s distant future being brought up a lot, but, as Zero mentions during his prison break-in in R1, all of Tohdoh’s legendary success comes down to careful planning and intelligence work. In fact, it seems that Tohdoh himself understands this very well, as we never really see him refer to his work as “miracles” in a non-ironic manner, despite being seen as such by his followers. At his core Tohdoh still very much prefers to deal with factual details, planning out his operations and insisting on taking part in them personally, solidifying him as both a skilled and passionate tactician and leader, and, much like with Ohgi, this is the potential that Lelouch sees in him.

Auxiliary Extroverted Thinking/Te

As stated above, Tohdoh’s success as a leader mainly comes down to methodical and meticulous work combined with a fairly tactical mindset. His Te is certainly an important component of this, as we see him rely on it when he has to step out of his Si comfort zone. We see several examples of this happening when Tohdoh doesn’t see an obvious answer to a problem: his usual response is to trust in Zero’s judgement even if he has to blindly follow orders without a clear understanding of what his leader is planning. This demonstrates a healthy use of auxiliary Te, as it shows his willingness to abandon his immediate instinct to systematically observe the situation by himself (Si) when there is clearly no point in doing that, instead going with a more conventionally rational Te approach and trusting Lelouch because he has proven to be effective in the past. This is both supported and kept in check by his Fi, which gives him a degree of confidence in his judge of other people’s character as well as stops him from being a blindly devoted follower with no clear direction of his own. Compare this to Ohgi, who trusts others (Zero in this example) based on his perception of their sense of morality and trustworthiness (Fe), while his tertiary Ti balances this notion out by making him question his own judgement and thinking of the benefits of a given decision that is independent of ethical questions.

To put it in a somewhat simplified manner, Te is a form of generalist logic, developing a systematic “one size fits all” way of looking at a problem for the user, as they mature. The higher Te is in the functional stack, the more its logical system is complex and willing to account for exceptions, meaning that the kind of over-generalising behaviour that Te-users are often stereotyped for is much more commonly seen in unhealthy, immature or low (in terms of the stack) users. A much more healthy use of Te is comparatively rare in fiction or isn’t recognised nearly as often, however Tohdoh’s tactical ability and respect for authority provide good examples. Neither of the two are things he carries out blindly or out of principle, in fact he demonstrates a high degree of autonomy when deciding to trust his comrades and his superiors - instead these choices come from an understanding that this kind of trust the most reasonable course of action in most difficult situations.

As a soldier these qualities make Tohdoh outstanding.

Tertiary Introverted Feeling/Fi

Tohdoh’s Fi comes out in most of his unhealthier moments, meaning that he enters a Si-Fi loop. Whenever he finds himself in a difficult situation with no apparent solutions provided by his first two functions and nobody else to follow, Tohdoh is prone to giving up all hope and surrendering to his fate. The excuse he uses to justify this is also very evident of an unhealthy use of Fi: in his mind he chooses death to preserve his honour and deserves his fate for his personal failure. With Fi being a function that focuses on very personal values, this is an example of using it defensively instead of finding the inner strength to maintain hope and readiness for an opportunity to improve the situation. This almost causes him to reject a chance of freedom that Zero is basically handing to him in R1. It usually takes an external perspective (Te) such as Zero’s or that of his fellow Holy Swords pilots to “snap him out of” this internally focused state and show him that he can still find a reason to continue fighting without sacrificing his life and that his honour is not compromised by such a choice.

On a somewhat healthier note, Fi also puts an interesting spin on the direction of Tohdoh’s dominant function, giving him a firm belief that a person should keep true to their goals and principles no matter the cost. This is why his initial disappointment in Suzaku disappears to a large degree, when he learns that his former student’s life choices are in full accordance with the ideals he holds. While he still sees Suzaku as an enemy, Tohdoh develops a respect for his willingness to follow the path he chose despite being seen as a traitor to the Japanese by almost everyone and even encourages him to continue. While his Fi isn’t high enough in his stack to make relating to others necessarily easy, it does give him the ability to readily acknowledge that there are subjectively justifiable reasons behind everyone’s actions, no matter how different the person in question may be from himself.

Inferior Extroverted Intuition/Ne

Tohdoh does not get as much screen time or opportunities to speak as some of the other characters on our list, however because of his brutal honesty and overall being based on a fairly common fictional archetype, it isn’t very difficult to understand his fears and weaknesses as a human being. Dominant Si is a function rooted in personal experiences and principles (both moral and logical) that are very personal to the user and allow them to find a place for themselves in the world they inhabit. A common way for inferior Ne to oppose this is the fear of loss of one’s self and the personal principles that make us who we are. This makes Tohdoh reluctant to make decisions that contradicts his ideas about the kind of person he should be and the ways in which he should act. This kind of insecurity provides an understandable explanation for his Si-Fi loops: trying to avoid execution to him is similar to refusing punishment for his failure to liberate Japan, and that would go against his understanding of what he should stand for. This is why he only agrees to escape his prison when offered a chance of redemption.

On a more general scale, inferior Fi makes it hard for Tohdoh to truly understand other people’s motivations and plans when he doesn’t see the evidence leading up to them. Given that Lelouch is Ni-dominant and hence much more willing to rely on theoretical approximations and calculated risks rather than playing it safe and going with the facts, this tends to happen often and Tohdoh is often left having to trust in his leader’s competence without actually knowing what he is up to. Being mature and relatively healthy, however, Tohdoh does not tend to be bothered by this too much, recognising when his life is in capable hands instead of giving in to a fear of uncertainty, as unhealthy or immature Si-doms can often do.

However, please keep in mind that this is only my opinion on the matter and I will welcome any criticisms or alternative opinions to discuss them. If this article was interesting for you, stay prepared for next time, when I shall discuss the MBTI type of Diethard Ried.

[annakendrick89]

Zosia and Jac one shot...

“I thought you would have at least bought me a drink before trying to see me naked.”

I hold the mug of tea in my hand, noticing the shakiness of my hand. I shrug it off before sighing, I haven’t felt well all week. I had three days off work last week and I know Jac is going to pissed off with me! I finish my tea before walking off into the ward, seeing some of the nurses busy doing jobs, “oh Dr March, Miss Naylor wanted a word in her office.” A young nurse says hesitantly, I roll my eyes before turning on my shoe and waking to Jacs office. I knock lightly on the door and open it slightly, “you wanted to see me?” I call out quietly as I watch the formidable red head spin around in her chair and delicately place her heels on the ground. She gives me one of her infamous glares before gesturing for me to to walk in, “glad to see you back Dr March- hope your feeling well.” Jac states sarcastically, I stare at the ground ignoring the twinge of pain in my stomach and lower back, “sorry about last week, I was really unwell.” I reply trying to justify myself, “and I was a senior consultant down, do you know how many surgeries I had to cancel and rearrange?” She replies sternly, I shake my head, I know better to just let her say what she has to say. “Do you know how many days off I had when I was pregnant. None. Because I just sucked it up and got on with it.” Jac says harshly, I nod and take deep breaths, my heart suddenly pounding in my chest, “bed 5 aortic aneurysm prep for surgery- your assisting.” Jac says holding out a patients file, I nod and gladly take the document before rushing off back onto the ward.

“Well done Dr March. That was good surgery.” Jac says as we walk back onto Darwin after successfully repairing a patients aortic aneurysm. I nod and smile to myself, “I am working on a new project at the moment and need an assistant surgeon. Walk and talk.” Jac says matter of factly, I quickly pick up my water bottle and follow behind her listening to her proposal. The two of us get into the lift, probably heading to Hansens office, I’m not really taking anything Jac is saying in, as a pain fills my body and stomach. That’s when I notice the lights flicker off and the lift come to a stop, “we’re not moving.” I blurt outloud immediately panicking, “what?” Jac asks staring at me through her glasses, “the lift, it’s stopped.” I state agin looking around and feeling my heart race. “Okay well don’t panic I’m sure there’s some explanation, I’ll ring the alarm.” Jac says rolling her eyes, I clutch my stomach, I know there is something wrong with the baby. “It’s not working. Dammit, I haven’t got any signal on my phone either.” Jac says now understanding the seriousness of the situation. “Woah, are you okay?” She asks as I clutch my stomach in pain, panting slightly, “I think there’s something wrong with the baby.” I mumble getting out of breath, “great! Just great! That’s fucking fantastic!” Jac says throwing her hands in the air, “Jesus you really helped calm me down. Thankyou!” I reply sarcastically as I let out an inaudible groan, “Jac something is wrong.” I whisper panicking to the max now, tears filling my eyes as I fear for my life and the baby’s. “I’m sure it’s just Braxton hi-“ she begins to say before water comes splashing out of my legs onto the floor and her shoes, “oh god you have got to be kidding me!” She says as I smirk slightly, “you were saying?” I mumble, I see her roll her eyes and place her folder down in the furtherest corner of the room, “Jac it’s too soon. I can’t be in labour. I’m only 26 weeks.” I whisper completely terrified at the thought of giving birth in a lift, with only Jac Naylor, when I’m this early. I try to read the usually stone faced consultants face as I see fear and panic fill her own eyes, I start groaning again as the pain becomes too much to bare. “Right Okay. I’m taking charge, Zosia sit down, pull your trousers off, have you got a vest top on?” Jac says confusing me, I nod and continue to groan, “take your top off too, so we have something to wrap the baby in.” Jac says nodding. I nod in too much pain to protest, I slowly pull down my blue scrub bottoms that are soaking wet and kick them to the corner, and use all my strength to pull my scrubs top off leaving me in black knickers and a black vest top- not something I would have wanted Jac too see me in. “I thought you would have at least bought me a drink before trying to see me naked.” I mumble offering Jac as smirk as she rolls her eyes. I scream out in pain again as another contraction hits me, I reach out and grab hold of Jacs arm squeezing tight and feel her lower me to the ground.

“Jac, Jac it’s too early. The baby- it- it can’t come yet.” I scream out in pain as I continue to panic, “Well this baby is coming whether you like it or not, so we have to do what we have to do.” Jac says sternly as I nod, preparing myself for the fact that my baby will probably not make it. “Zosia I need to see how dilated you are.” Jac says as I nod, I watch and grimace with pain as another contraction hits me. “Okay, yep your 10cm.” Jac says wiping her hand on her trousers, I nod, feeling like I’m about to throw up. “I can see the babies head, push, Zosia come on push!” Jac says as I hold her hand squeezing tight and screaming, “Okay, stop, don’t push, just breath.” Jac says as I freeze, it should be crying. Why isn’t it crushing. “Pant now, babies head is out, just little pushes.” Jac says her own face even paler than normal. I give one last agonising push before a weird sensation comes over me, it’s out. “Why- why isn’t it crying?” I ask, already crying as I see Jac shake her head. I watch as Jac carefully cut the cord, “Jac?” I whisper knowing the answer, everything goes into slow motion as I begin to sob, knowing I’ve lost my baby. I watch as Jac wraps it up in my top, rubbing it’s back hard and giving it cpr.

Then my heart stops as I hear the most incredible sound I have ever heard in my life, the small, weak cry of a baby, my baby. “Zosia, you have a little girl.” Jac says wiping away her own tears as she places the smallest baby in my arms, I cry as I stare at the tiny thing. She doesn’t even look like a baby. I stare at her, eyes shut and all pink, my heart filling immediately with love. I keep her close to me, trying to keep her as warm as possible. I reach out and grab Jacs hand, squeezing tightly, “Thankyou.” I whisper, tears rolling down my face, she smiles at me and kisses me gently on the head.

That’s when we notice the lights coming back on and the lift moving, it’s going to be okay. We’re going to be okay. The doors open to the ED and Jac immediately jumps up calling for help, almost instantly nurses appear and I’m on a trolly and being whisked away.

48 hours later

I stare at the tiny little baby in the incubator, her heart rising fast as she tries her best to breath. I wipe away tears and sit back, still sore and in complete shock of what just happened. I grab one of the nurses and tell her I’m going for a walk and grab my bag. I pull my cardigan around me further and make my way up to Darwin. I walk down the corridor smiling at some of the nurses before stopping outside her door. I lightly knock and her stern, cold voice makes me smile. “Oh Zosia, I didn’t realise it was you.” Jac instantly says as I walk in, “how are you doing? How’s the baby?” She asks as I take a seat on her sofa, “I’m doing good, very emotional and she’s fighting.” I say smiling, Jac nods and a comfortable silence fills the room. “I know you don’t do sentimental gifts but I got you this.” I say handing over a small bag, she raises an eyebrow before peering in, revealing a willow tree ornament, that’s the angel of hope. “Zosia it’s lovely, you didn’t have to get me anything.” Jac says smiling returning her gaze to me, “theres one more thing, I wanted to ask, you can say no, but if you would be her godmother?” I ask with a tear filling my eye, “you really want me to be her godmother?” Jac asks sounding surprised, “you helped her come into this world and let’s be honest everyone needs a Jac Naylor in the corner!” I say with a small laugh, at which she laughs and nods. “I cannot Thank you enough for what you did. I will be eternally grateful.” I says smiling Jac nods, I know she finds it hard to take compliments like this. “Have you thought of a name?” Jac ask trying to avoid the tear in her eye from falling, I nod and smile, “her name is Liliana Jaqueline Anya March.” I say smiling, Jac smiles a tear now rolling down her cheek. “It’s beautifull.” She whispers I nod and stand up, “I had best be off, Thankyou.” I say waking towards the door, “I’ll pop down when I finish up here to come see you both.” She says smiling l, I nod and smile before walking out the door and back to my perfect little baby.

[almostafantasia]

Lancelot (13/14)

Lexa Woods, an impeccably dressed British secret agent for the covert Kingsman organisation, whose latest mission sees her sneaking through the corridors of the White House in the middle of the night, finds herself having to seduce the daughter of the newly elected President of the United States in a bid to save the world. It’s a surprise to Lexa when she ends up falling for her target as fast as she does, meanwhile Clarke doesn’t expect her gorgeous date for an international political gala dinner to drag her into a world of thrill and danger where one wrong move could cause a global disaster.

a clexa kingsman au | chapter 13/14 read on ao3

Lexa doesn’t know where her jacket is.

It’s clearly not the most pressing issue at the moment, not when there are doctors checking up on each guest, not when there are armed members of the secret service with body armour and riot shields swarming around.

It was a very nice jacket though. The fit was just right and the red velour a striking colour that filled Lexa with confidence. Lexa will be disappointed if she can’t find it and ends up leaving it behind. She doesn’t think she’ll ever have another one like it, not unless she asks the tailors at Kingsman to make another one identical to it, but that would mean having to admit that she’s been careless enough to misplace the first.

Clarke would look good in Lexa’s jacket. It would suit her much better than the oversized men’s jacket she still wears over her dress. Lexa shudders even at the thought of Clarke wearing something that belongs to Roan Azgeda, when there is a perfectly good jacket belonging to Lexa that would keep her just as warm and make her look twice as good.

If only Lexa could locate it…

“Lexa! There you are!”

Lexa’s head snaps up as she hears her own name, to find Anya striding towards her with purpose in each step.

“Have you seen my jacket?” asks Lexa. “It must be around here somewhere.”

“That’s your biggest concern right now?”

Of course it isn’t Lexa’s biggest concern. Lexa is worried that one of the guests will have slipped away without being treated for the poison, she’s worried that she’s going to get arrested and tried for murder even though she only shot Ontari to save everybody else, she’s worried that Clarke won’t forgive her and that she’ll have to live the rest of her life with the knowledge that she’s betrayed the one person she’s allowed herself to truly care about. But it’s easier to suppress all of that and pretend that it’s all about a jacket.

“It’s a nice jacket,” shrugs Lexa. “It would be a shame if I didn’t get to wear it again.”

Anya reaches out and rests her hand on Lexa’s arm.

“You’re allowed to feel things, Lex,” Anya tells her, voice full of concern. “It’s not a weakness.”

Lexa can’t help the way that her gaze flicks across to where Clarke sits next to her father across the room, still huddled up under Roan’s jacket.

“Look where feeling things got me,” Lexa mutters bitterly.

Anya must sense Lexa’s resentment because she swiftly changes the topic.

“Anyway, they’ve arrested Nia Azgeda on her way to JFK to flee the country. She and her son are both going to face charges of treason, attempted murder, and attempted assassination of a President, to name a few.”

“So that’s it?” asks Lexa. “Job done?”

“I think so,” nods Anya.

Lexa pauses, looking around the room at all of the lives she’s saved tonight and wondering why she doesn’t feel better than this about such an accomplishment.

She voices this to Anya.

“Somehow I don’t feel as good as I should about that.”

“Me neither,” admits Anya.

“I think it’s pretty close call as to which of us is Kingsman’s worst agent,” jokes Lexa, hoping to lighten the mood.

“Bullshit,” snorts Anya, shaking her head in disagreement. “It’s very obviously me, by a long way.”

Lexa tries to protest, knowing that this mission has had its fair share of hiccups that have been a direct result of mistakes that she has made.

“But I…”

“Saved the lives of hundreds of people while I was too busy shagging Raven to care,” interrupts Anya, completing Lexa’s sentence before Lexa has the chance to say something self-deprecating about her own involvement in the mission.

Lexa considers Anya’s words and, realising that she doesn’t have the energy to protest, concedes half-heartedly.

“Well, when you put it like that…”

“You needed me and I wasn’t there,” says Anya. “And I can only apologise for that and promise you that it won’t happen again.”

“It’s all fine now,” says Lexa. “We did it. We saved all these lives.”

Lexa gestures around the room, to the masses of guests that could have ended tonight as corpses, had it not been for a Kingsman intervention and the quick-thinking and hard work of Lexa and Anya. Lexa shudders even at the thought of it. All it would have taken is for one thing to have gone differently over the last couple of weeks, and there could have been a death toll of more than one here tonight. Lexa doesn’t want to imagine what would have happened if things hadn’t played out like they did, if she hadn’t agreed to go to that bar with Anya and bumped into Clarke again after Merlin specifically forbade them from leaving the hotel.

It’s a dark thought, and Lexa tries to swim away from it by lightening the mood.

“Jesus, I can’t believe I saved the life of a Tory Prime Minister,” she says, rolling her eyes dramatically as she watches the British Prime Minister across the room, talking rapidly over a phone.

Anya doesn’t laugh, and Lexa glances up at her oldest friend to find anxiety written all over her face.

Lexa tries to put herself in Anya’s situation and imagines how she would be feeling if it was Clarke who ended up in the back of an ambulance with a bullet in her leg. She knows that she would be beside herself with worry, unable to do anything at all until she had the physical proof that Clarke would make a full recovery. Hell, Lexa is already worried about Clarke’s wellbeing, and the girl only sitting across the room, unharmed by bullets or any other weapons.

“Is Raven going to be okay?” asks Lexa, unsure how Anya is staying so unaffected by it all.

“I think so,” nods Anya. “I wanted to follow her to the hospital but she told me to stay here and make sure that everybody else was okay too. But I phoned the hospital pretending to be her mum and they told me that her condition is stable.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Lexa says truthfully. “You could probably go, you know. I think there’s enough people here to have everything under control. I’m sure Raven would appreciate a familiar face at her side.”

“I don’t know,” shrugs Anya. “I don’t want to abandon you here again. I would die if something happened while I was gone.”

Lexa shakes her head and rests a reassuring hand on Anya’s shoulder.

“Now who’s the one hiding from their feelings?” asks Lexa, shooting Anya a teasing grin.

“Oh, piss off!”

Lexa wakes up to a knock on her hotel room door. A quick glance at the screen of her phone tells her that it’s just gone four thirty in the afternoon - she’s slept for nearly ten hours, but Lexa’s eyes are still heavy with tiredness.

Lexa is far too exhausted to give a shit about her appearance. She still wears the clothes from last night, or at least the shirt and trousers, both crumpled and a little blood-spattered and not at all appropriate for answering the door in. But the list of people who could be at her door is only three: Anya or Merlin here to update her on the arrangement for leaving America now that their job here is done; or one of the hotel’s maids who, Lexa reasons, has probably seen some much weirder stuff than a little blood on a guest’s shirt.

The person outside knocks again, and Lexa reluctantly hauls herself up onto her feet and trudges over to the door, where she unlocks it with a click and turns the handle to open it.

“Um, hi.”

It’s Clarke. Not Anya, not Merlin, definitely not a maid, but Clarke. Lexa wishes now more than ever that she had taken the time to shower and change her clothes before she fell asleep. In comparison, Clarke looks as clean and as fresh-faced as she would if she hadn’t had the night that she did at the gala dinner.

“Clarke,” says Lexa, trying not to show how surprised she is to find Clarke outside her hotel room. “I … uh, I fell asleep as soon I got back here. I was completely wiped out.”

Clarke glances down at Lexa’s attire and nods once.

“I can see that. Can I come in?”

Lexa steps aside immediately and Clarke takes hesitant steps past her and into the hotel room. Clarke hovers near the door, not quite making herself at home, and Lexa is left feeling only even more awkward about the way they left things last. It seems strange to be this careful around each other, especially given the memories they made in this very room just days ago after their date, but Lexa has to remind herself that Clarke has every right to still be angry at her.

“Clarke, I just want to start by saying that I’m so…”

“No,” Clarke interrupts her. “You don’t get to apologise yet. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this - thinking about you - and I’ve practiced ten different versions of what I want to say to you, so you don’t get to say anything until I’ve got this out.”

Lexa closes her mouth and nods obediently, waiting for Clarke to say her piece.

“I’ve been trying to get my head around why you lied,” admits Clarke. She lets out a sigh, then continues animatedly, “Like, it frustrated the fuck out of me at first. I thought we had something special and how dare you think you could play me like that? But also, how could I be stupid enough to fall for that?”

Lexa wants nothing more than to interject, to tell Clarke that they do have something special, that she hasn’t been able to think about anything but Clarke since they first stumbled into each other in the halls of the White House. But she knows that Clarke still has so much more to say, and Lexa forcibly keeps her mouth closed and saves her apologies and explanations until Clarke gives her permission to speak.

“If you said to me that you needed to be at the dinner because of your mission, I would have invited you in an instant,” continues Clarke. “You must have known that!”

Though she stays silent, Lexa gives a little nod in response.

“And that’s when it hit me,” says Clarke. “You wanted that date. You wanted an ‘us’ that was more than me just being a girl you met on a mission.”

Lexa’s eyes start to prickle with tears, and an uncomfortable lump forms in her throat, making it difficult for her to swallow.

Clarke continues, her voice softer and more thoughtful than before, and her blue eyes boring into Lexa.

“Our date and that night we spent together felt incredibly real and I don’t think it would have happened like that if you’d just asked me to take you to the gala dinner. At least, that’s what I’m hoping. Because the only other option that makes sense is that you saw an opportunity to play me and get laid, and I really hope it wasn’t that.”

Lexa shakes her head and wipes at the tears in her eyes before they have a chance to spill down her cheeks. This conversation is important and it’s going to be difficult enough without having to force the words out past wave after wave of tears.

“I told you that I don’t do this often,” confesses Lexa. “I don’t do feelings.”

Lexa’s knee twinges in pain and she grits her teeth as she mentally wills her old injury to go back to sleep, before she continues talking.

“There have been girls on missions before, but that’s always been easy,” Lexa tells Clarke. “There’s things that you can say to make a girl swoon, things you can do to push the right buttons and get what you want, and that’s easy because it’s a routine that I’ve practiced before. It’s easy because I have no personal investment in those girls.”

“But you do in me?” asks Clarke, her eyebrows raised.

There’s something that looks like hope in her eyes - a glimmer that reignites something within Lexa’s chest, a feeling that maybe there is still a chance to make things right with Clarke.

But of course there is still a chance. Clarke wouldn’t have come here if there wasn’t at least a small part of her still holding out for Lexa. It would have been way too easy to ignore Lexa, to let her fly back to England and forget about her entirely. The fact that she’s here says as much as any words could do.

It’s especially important for Lexa to get this right. Clarke has been kind enough to give her a chance to explain herself, and Lexa will berate herself for a long time if she takes that opportunity and fucks it up beyond repair.

“From the very second I first saw you, I knew I was in trouble,” admits Lexa, recalling their first meeting and the fluttering in her chest she felt when she first laid eyes on Clarke. “I don’t want to call it love at first sight, but I could feel some kind of connection straight away.”

Clarke is quiet for a few seconds, and she takes a seat on the end of Lexa’s bed, before she finally concedes, “I felt it too.”

Lexa’s heart flips just like it did that very first time, in inexplicable rush of excitement in her chest at Clarke’s admission that their first meeting had the same effect on her too.

“I don’t think I’ve told you this yet, but I was wearing an earpiece that night,” says Lexa, smiling to herself at the memory. “I had Anya howling with laughter in my ear the entire time I was trying to make an impression on you, because even she knew that you were going to ruin me. And then ever since, I’ve had the real Anya reminding me that this is a mission, that you weren’t allowed to be anything more than another mark.”

“So really, Anya is the one I should be mad at right now?” asks Clarke.

“No,” says Lexa, shaking her head. “Because if it weren’t for Anya, I never would have been in the bar that night, and I wouldn’t have asked you to get me into the White House again, and I definitely wouldn’t have asked you out on that date. Without Anya, I would have run away from my feelings and never spoken to you again.”

Clarke’s eyebrows furrow together in thought.

“So should I be throwing a drink in Anya’s face, or buying her a thank you card?”

Lexa blushes a little bit at the reference to last night, remembering the feeling of the cool drink hitting her face and the betrayed look on Clarke’s face right before she stormed away. It doesn’t quite seem like that was only less than twenty four hours ago. So much has happened since then that Lexa feels as though an entire lifetime has passed since.

“I guess it depends what happens next,” answers Lexa, shrugging her shoulders.

Lexa knows what she wants to happen next. And if she gets her own way - if Clarke agrees that she wants to put things behind them and try to move forward together - Lexa thinks that maybe she will be the one who owes Anya and thank you card.

“When do you fly out?” asks Clarke.

“In the next couple of days, I think,” replies Lexa.

She hasn’t yet spoken to Anya or Merlin since she returned to the hotel very early this morning, but Lexa doesn’t think that they’ll be staying in America long. The events of last night will likely be plastered all over the media and it’s unlikely that Merlin will let them stick around for long enough to get their faces associated with it all. Besides, now that their mission is over, there’s no longer a reason to stay over here.

(It’s a lie. There is a reason, and her name is Clarke Griffin.)

“And I’m supposed to return to college tomorrow afternoon,” Clarke adds. She lets out a disheartened sigh, and then says, “It feels a lot like the universe is working against us.”

Lexa’s heart catches in her throat. She almost doesn’t want to believe what Clarke has said, wants to think that it’s just a product of her own hopeful imagination. Because it sounds a lot like Clarke has just admitted she wants to make things work with Lexa.

“Am I forgiven?” Lexa dares to ask, her voice barely above a whisper.

Clarke pushes herself up into a standing position and her hands reach out to seek Lexa’s hips, fingers gripping tightly as soon as she makes contact like she never wants to let Lexa go.

“You idiot,” exhales Clarke. “Of course you’re forgiven.”

The way their lips crash together is inescapable, like the opposite poles of two magnets unable to stop themselves from flying together. Lexa nearly starts crying right there - she thought she had lost Clarke, thought that her own actions might have pushed Clarke away for good - and the noise that slips from her lips as she suppresses those tears ends up sounding like a choked whimper.

The noise seems to encourage Clarke. She takes two steps backwards and sits on the end of the bed again, and the hand on Lexa’s hips cling impossibly tighter. Lexa finds herself leaning forward as Clarke sits down, lips still unwilling to leave Clarke’s even for a second. There’s a moment where Lexa thinks that she’s free-falling, a split-second in which gravity seems to take over and the only thing tethering Lexa to reality is Clarke’s touch on her hips and on her mouth, but it’s over in a flash. Lexa finds herself sitting in Clarke’s lap as Clarke pulls her forward even further, until Lexa’s full body is pretty much covering Clarke’s on the bed.

It would be so easy to get lost in each other, to keep kissing until long after hands wander and clothes come flying off, but Lexa knows herself well enough to know that there’s a high chance that she’ll either burst into tears or pass out within moments of orgasming, and she isn’t ready for that just yet.

They still have a lot left to discuss.

“Wait, wait, stop,” Lexa mumbles against Clarke’s lips, forcibly lifting her head and rolling off Clarke’s body to the side. “We should figure this out first.”

“Buzzkill,” says Clarke, rolling her eyes and wiping her mouth on the back of her hand as she sits up. “No, I’m kidding. You’re right.”

Lexa moves to sit on the edge of the bed, putting a little bit of distance between them so that Clarke and her distractingly kiss-hazed eyes aren’t right there in Lexa’s immediate vicinity. She needs a clear head for this next part of the conversation, and that won’t happen if she and Clarke are practically on top of each other.

“I have something else to tell you,” confesses Lexa. “I don’t work for MI6.”

Clarke’s mouth falls open and she frowns at Lexa in confusion, before she asks, “You don’t-? But if you’re not a secret agent then-”

“I work for an organisation called Kingsman,” explains Lexa. She laughs to herself, then adds, “I don’t know if I’m even allowed to tell you this but I’m fed up of lying to you. Actually, I think Kingsman is probably so secret that it wouldn’t even count as treason to tell you about it.”

“What’s Kingsman?” asks Clarke.

“A secret intelligence organisation based in London,” clarifies Lexa. “Most of what I told you is completely true. I really did join the army straight out of school but had to drop out because of injury. Then Anya, who I had known since school and was already working for Kingsman, put my name forward for the recruitment tests. I passed and they offered me this job. I became Agent Lancelot.”

“So you’re a secret secret agent?” asks Clarke, a trace of awe in her voice.

Lexa nods, her lips twitching up into a little smile.

“I guess so. And I’m sorry for lying to you. About this and about the dinner.”

“Lucky for you, I really like you,” smiles Clarke, reaching out to take one of Lexa’s hands.

“Are we going to make this work?” Lexa asks hopefully. “It’s a five hour time difference when I’m back in London.”

Clarke shrugs, and then says, “Could be worse.”

Lexa laughs softly under her breath, because it most definitely will get worse than that.

She tries to explain this to Clarke.

“Of course, there’s no guarantee how long I’ll be in London for, or even where I end up going next,” says Lexa. “Or if I would be able to contact you at all. When I’m really deep undercover it sometimes isn’t safe.”

Clarke’s face falls a little bit, apparently having been so caught up in the excitement of making up after their disagreement that she had forgotten the nature of Lexa’s work and the fact that she might be constantly travelling all over the globe.

“That sucks,” admits Clarke dejectedly. She glances up at Lexa, a glimmer of positivity in her eyes as she adds, “But I’m not the kind of person who needs to be texting somebody I’m into all the time.”

“No, me neither.”

Clarke grins and holds one of her hands up in the air, palm facing Lexa.

“High five to maintaining healthy relationship boundaries.”

Lexa can’t help the bubble of laughter that leaves her throat, and she awkwardly lifts her own hand to press a soft palm against Clarke’s.

Clarke blushes, realising what she’s just done, and mumbles, “Sorry, that was weird. Carry on.”

“Right,” says Lexa, trying what they were talking about before the high five. “We wouldn’t be able to talk all the time, and we definitely wouldn’t get to see much of each other.”

“I could come and visit you,” suggests Clarke. “I get three months off for summer. I could spend some of that with you.”

“And I’ve been working a lot this year,” adds Lexa. “I’m due some time off this summer.”

Clarke reaches for one of Lexa’s hands, much less awkwardly than the last time their palms met, and laces her fingers through Lexa’s.

“We’re actually doing this,” says Clarke, with the air of a giddy child about her voice as she speaks. “We’re going to make this work.”

“I have no idea what’s going to happen in the long term,” confesses Lexa, “but we’ve got the short term figured out. The rest we can work out as we go.”

Clarke pulls on their connected hands, encouraging Lexa to come closer again, and Lexa is too weak around Clarke to do anything but comply. She settles on top of Clarke again, this time with Clarke’s legs wrapped around her waist and locked at the ankle behind Lexa’s hips, effectively trapping her in place. Not that Lexa minds. It’s a very nice place to be trapped.

“As for the super short term…” says Clarke, tipping backwards until her back hits the mattress and bringing Lexa with her.

“Oh, you have some ideas about that too?” teases Lexa, her face just inches from Clarke’s as she uses one of her arms to prop up her body weight.

“First of all, we’re going to take a shower,” says Clarke, rocking her hips up so that her pelvis grinds against Lexa’s lower stomach.

“We are?”

“Yeah,” says Clarke, curling a hand around the back of Lexa’s head and drawing her closer so that she can whisper into Lexa’s ear, as if she’s imparting some big secret that needs to be kept from the rest of the world, “and then I’m going to take you to bed and fuck you stupid. Then you’re going to let me take you out to dinner, and after that we’re going to come back here and have sex again. And probably again after that.”

Lexa’s brain short-circuits at the phrase “fuck you stupid” and she barely registers the content of the rest, only Clarke’s husky voice and the obvious implications of her words from the way that her hips slowly move and seek out contact from Lexa’s body.

“I really like this plan,” says Lexa, her voice breathy with arousal.

Clarke grins at the admission.

“Why don’t we move this to the shower and you can show me just how much you like it?”

“Is Raven okay?”

The question comes to Lexa’s mind when she’s naked in bed, tangled around Clarke and the bedsheets, some time after round three has reached its conclusion. Somewhere along the way, the idea of Clarke taking Lexa out to dinner became forgotten, and a cart once laden with room service stands at the foot of the bed, now carrying plates of half-eaten food and an empty bottle of champagne that Clarke insisted on ordering to celebrate saving the world.

“That’s the first thing you have to say after I make you cum?” asks Clarke, propping herself up on one elbow while the fingers of the other hand brush stray curls out of Lexa’s face.

“I mean,” admits Lexa, “I’m feeling guilty that I’m here enjoying this - enjoying you - and she’s stuck in a hospital bed with a bullet in her leg.”

“They took the bullet out in surgery,” Clarke tells Lexa, her hand still absently playing with Lexa’s hair, curling loose strands around her fingertips. “Last I heard, she was high on pain meds and trying to persuade Anya to dress up as a sexy nurse.”

Lexa snorts to herself.

“I bet Anya loved that.”

“I think if Raven hadn’t just come out of theatre, Anya might have been less sympathetic,” grins Clarke.

“I’ll try and visit her before I leave for England,” says Lexa, voicing her thoughts aloud. “It’s mostly my fault that she got shot.”

“When do you fly back?” asks Clarke, a trace of sadness in her voice.

“I don’t know,” confesses Lexa, nestling her head against Clarke’s shoulder and draping her arm across Clarke’s bare stomach beneath the cotton sheet that shields their sweaty bodies from the chill of the hotel room. “Within the next day or two, I would guess. And you go back to college in the afternoon?”

“Mmm.”

Lexa lifts herself from Clarke so that she can reach for the phone on the nightstand, unlocking the screen to check the time. It’s just gone midnight, and time is passing much faster than Lexa would like.

“But,” says Clarke, rolling Lexa onto her back and covering Lexa’s body with her own as she nuzzles her face into Lexa’s neck and sends a hand lower, “I don’t plan on sleeping tonight until I’ve had you at least twice more…”

“Clarke, I’m not sure I can go again,” protests Lexa, even as her legs fall open to let Clarke’s exploratory fingers dip into her folds, still wet and sensitive from the last round.

“Sure you can,” sniggers Clarke, sucking the skin of Lexa’s neck between her teeth as her fingers tease and probe.

Clarke, Lexa quickly decides in that moment, is going to be the death of her.

Lexa can’t wait.

[anonthenullifier]

This Wasn’t What I Had in Mind

Title: This Wasn’t What I Had in Mind

Gift for: Carlye (@scarletphantom1704)

Rating: T

Word count: 4.4k

Summary: During a rendezvous with Vision, a seemingly innocent excursion forces Wanda to remember all she has lost.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15996662

Prompt: I would love to receive a piece of fanart/or a fanfic of Vision comforting Wanda after a flashback, triggered by an ordinary object, and a panic attack in public. (MCU)

To Carlye: This was a fun but challenging prompt. I hope the story meets what you were wanting with the prompt :)

To Anya (@atendrilofscarlet), my beta, you are amazing! Thank you for reading so many versions of this in such a short time period and answering all my questions :D.

To everyone else, I hope you enjoy this too!

Made for the Scarlet Vision Exchange 2018!

It is freezing.  Wanda suspects the only reason the steam hovering in front of her face isn’t crystallizing is because of how rapidly she is sucking in the frigid air and then pushing it back out. It’s so cold her wool-gloved hands are buried deep in her coat pockets instead of seizing the opportunity of the moment and holding Vision’s hand. In lieu of intertwined fingers, their bodies are huddled, shoulders and hips practically glued together as they stare forward.

“Did you know,” he glances down at her, movements minimized to retain heat, “until today the coldest day in Sopot’s history was -2.5 degrees Celsius?”

She’s fairly certain the winters at the compound were comparable to now, possibly worse, yet the rush of air coming from the sea seems to banish all potential warmth, leaving just a gray, lifeless wraith of an afternoon. “Don’t tempt me with such balmy facts, Vizh.” What she assumes is a breathy laugh, though could easily be a shudder at the bite in the air, mingles with the crashing of waves against the embankment of ice along the shoreline. “You know, this really wasn’t what I had in mind.”

“I did offer an alternative of staying in the hotel next to the radiator.”

Wanda cracks a smile at the specificity of the statement, his mind so vast and yet during their clandestine meetups it collapses to only reach out as far as what they are doing in the present, disregarding any subtext of a time further than now. “We’ll go back soon.”

A nod and a bump of his shoulder confirms his desire to do just that, “I believe that is for the best,” his voice shifts to being overly concerned, a tone that has been increasingly common for the past several weeks, “I do not believe it is in your best interest to develop pneumonia again.”

Wanda shrugs. In her opinion, the downsides of being sick were far outweighed by other factors. “Got you to stay with me for longer.”

“Yes,” a tiny smile sparks a small, welcomed ember in her chest, “though it also almost led to my discovery.”

“You act like Nat hasn’t pieced us together yet.” Sneaking around is never what either of them wanted as a basis of their relationship, which is why it was almost a godsend when Nat confronted her months ago. Anger mixed with disbelief and betrayal, but in the end was a hope, a guarded, questionable hope, one that allowed for an understanding to be reached that so long as Wanda was safe and checked in when required, she could be happy. Despite this, Vision still insists on never crossing paths with the other rogue Avengers. Likely worried that the pressure of lying about seeing four people would be too much. Giving vague and unhelpful answers to Ross about his time “searching” for her has already taken its toll on his demeanor, she’d never ask him to add to that responsibility. Wanda veers their thoughts from that particular topic, determined to make the most of their rendezvous. “When I started pestering Steve about a beach getaway, this wasn’t really what I meant.”

Vision glances down at her, then to the desolate stretches of sand, before finally settling his gaze on the angry, icy sea. “Though not ideal, tactically this is smarter. During the summer there are upwards of 2 million people in this city-“

“I know, Vision.” It’s been a hard set rule of Steve’s that they avoid peak tourism seasons when determining the locations each time they move around. Arguably large crowds could provide more cover, a greater chance to blend in, but it also means more eyes and cameras that might happen to upload one of their faces to Twitter or Instagram. That doesn’t mean Steve had to send her here in November--even September or early October would have less tourists and have the added bonus of potentially being warm enough for a proper beach vacation. “I just had it all planned out and it didn’t involve freezing our asses off.”

“Well,” he removes his hand from the safety of his pocket and wraps his arm around her shoulders, pulling her to nestle in the blissfully warm crook of his arm, “If it were warmer, what did you envision us doing?”

The images of such a dream flash through her mind, all nondescript as to the beach itself, given she had no idea where Steve would send her, but there are commonalities in all beach resort areas. “We would have woken up early,” a disbelieving wrinkle mars his forehead and she nudges him with her shoulder, “earlier than usual, at least. Maybe we’d grab breakfast and buy some snacks and then head to the beach to claim our spot before all the tourists descend.”

“So far we have been successful with your plan.”

Wanda regrets that they are outside because it means she can’t watch his irises spin in delight at the dryness of his sass, so she’ll have to settle for the slight, prideful smirk on his pale face. “Well if you want to continue with the plan, then slap on a speedo and dive right in.” The incredulous silence stretches out for several seconds. She can practically hear the gears in his eyes swishing while he figures out a response, his distaste of immodest clothing in public (for himself, personally. He believes everyone else can decide for themselves what is and is not comfortable to wear in public) is a topic they have discussed at length when she tried to get him to wear shorts over the summer. Wanda happily fills the continued silence, pushing the idea just a touch more by offering him the argument she had already crafted for his inevitable hesitation in the swimwear. “It’s what all the locals wear, you wouldn’t want to stand out.”

“I-” another long pause precedes the cautious, diplomatic cadence of his diverting words, “well it is really, um, an incredibly unfortunate happenstance for us to be here when it is so cold then.” Vision doesn’t allow room for her to comment further or persist in ribbing him on the matter. “What else, did you have in mind?”

“Well, after we had swam and enjoyed the sun,” the latter not even attempting to peek through the clouds for emphasis, instead remaining hidden in its own winter gloom, “we would walk the pier until we got to the end of it where there’s just the sea in front of us and the sun on the waves.”

“Sounds lovely.”

Wanda smiles at the warmth in his voice. “We’d watch the water, talk some more, I’d definitely kiss you-”

“That part of the plan can certainly still happen.”

“And then,” Wanda pulls her hand from its safehaven in her coat so she can wrap her arm around his waist, relishing the tightening of his grip in return, “we’d grab ice cream and go back to the hotel for some alone time before you have to leave.”

She can sense the wistfulness of his mind soaking in the imaginary sun and it almost makes the air around them feel a few degrees warmer. “Perhaps we can salvage some of it.”

“Oh?”

An enthusiastic, mesmerizing grin matches the brightness of his eyes as Vision looks down at her, “I believe there was an ice cream stand open not too far from here and,” he steps away from her and places his leather-gloved hands on her upper arms, “if I can manage to figure out the radiator, we can adjust the temperature in the room to allow for us to pretend it is summer.”

Wanda’s cheeks ache, possibly from the icy wind assaulting her face, but a more probable explanation right now would be the broadness of her smile, “Sounds perfect.”

The ice cream stand is harder to find than Vision’s plan suggested, their search leading them in a meandering labyrinth of cobbled streets and alleys as they investigate every building that has the same pink and brown ice cream cone sculpture. Eventually, after what feels like twenty stops, they come across a lone ice cream vendor.

Wanda’s image of this moment is different from reality, her memory filled with hot summer days and smiling faces handing her ice cream that’s started to ooze down the ridges of the cone, whereas the man shivering behind the glass case is mutely unimpressed by Vision’s very friendly, “ Dzień dobry*.”

A harsh, “What do you want?” is the reply. Wanda laces her fingers through Vision’s, noting the tension in his muscles and preparing for the talk they’ll have later, at how, because of his accent, among other things, he can never pass himself off as a native speaker wherever they are at. She thinks it’s kind of cute, his belief that he could ever mask his proper English accent to fit in, but she also sympathizes given her own experiences of trying (and failing) to not be an “other” in public after moving to New York.

To help with his attempts to blend in, Vision has started eating with her, treating his choices in food like he does everything else -- with a laser focus and a desire to be equitable to all options. What this invariably means is that he is about to ask about every single flavor, combo, sauce, and cone. Given Wanda already knows what she wants (it’s what she gets every time), she responds before Vision gets a chance to read any flavors, “Stracciatella.” A heaping cone is passed over the counter, her tongue happily running through the creamy, chocolate speckled heaven while her eyes turn to take in the tiny, ill-insulated building as Vision mulls over his choices.

It’s a basic ice cream store. The requisite signs about toppings and pictures of beaming beach goers in speedos (something she’ll kindly direct Vision’s attention to while they eat) lining the walls. There’s a section of the far wall with postcards and fading pictures with autographs. One catches her eye, a recollection of those faces surfacing though she can’t quite place it until she notices a melody in the air. The music is different from the usual happy, bubblegum pop of these places. The song playing from a speaker behind the glass case curves her lips up, the fast paced, punk sound unmistakable. This was one of Pietro’s favorites and she hasn’t heard it in a long time. Wanda makes a mental note to have Vision listen to Hladno Pivo later, even if he’ll dislike it, most likely critiquing the harshness of the vocals and the clashing of the instruments. “And what is this one?” Vision’s voice draws her attention back to the counter where he’s pointing at another flavor and the man, knuckles white around the ice cream scoop, is doing his best to not be annoyed at all the questions.

“ Kasztan, it’s uh,” the man waves the scoop as he searches for the word, then he snaps the fingers of his other hand, turning to Wanda, a congenial almost hopeful uptick in his voice as he switches languages, “kesten, ja?”

A tingling in her chest blooms at the question. “It’s um,” Wanda nods her head, trying to close out the song so she can focus on translating the word. “It’s,” the tingle grows into a claw, wrapping its digits around her ribs as bursts of fiery light erupt from her mind. She turns towards Vision, hoping his curious and bright eyes will do what they always do best: calm her. “It’s um chest-,” yet the words fumble out as her breath begins to fail her, the talons of remembrance puncturing her lungs,”-nut”.

Vision’s Interesting fades away, the movements of the ice cream vendor slowing as he spoons out a cone, but Wanda finds she isn’t really there anymore. Instead she is ten again, lungs spasming into coughing fits as she sucks in the fresh air. Pietro is at her side, hand clutching her own, pulling her each time he coughs to get the last of the dust from his body. You would think, after a bombing and numerous rescue missions, that someone would be helping two children in the street, and yet there are terrifying screams coming from the stretchers being carried out of the building that garner all of the attention from the medics and the bystanders. “Dođi,” Pietro tugs her hand but her feet stay firmly planted to the ground, eyes refusing to leave the hole in the building where their home used to be. “Dođi, Wanda, otišli su.**”

Eventually she budges, head hanging low as they wander the city, no one noticing them until a woman stops them several streets over. Pietro handles the conversation, Wanda’s mind far too lost to comprehend what is being said, something about if they need help or if they are hungry. Whatever is said leads to an ice cream cone shoved in her hand, her fingers begrudgingly scrunching around the paper wrapper. Why she has ice cream is a mystery, it’s not a hot day, it’s not a happy day, it’s not even a filling food after days trapped under a bed. A hand waves in front of her eyes, focusing her energy on the beaming, filthy face of Pietro, a beige hued mound of ice cream hovering at her mouth, “To je kesten***”

A frantically quiet, “Wanda?” dissolves Pietro’s smiling face.

Vision waves a hand through the air, brow etched with concern until she nods, swallowing down the rising bile at the memory, refusing to give in to it now, “Yeah?”

“Would you like to eat outside?” It’s not what he actually wants to ask her, not what is coursing through his mind or painted all over his disguised face, but to maintain their cover, it’s the best he has.

“Um,” Wanda stares at the beige ice cream cone in his hand, attempts to nod, but gets distracted by the room closing in, inch by inch, a subtle, unnerving minimizing of the space around her. A numbness spreads through her hands, one that is different than the flow of her powers, and it follows the rapid increase in her heart rate. Deep breaths should work, at least Vision always made her do it in the early days of their friendship. A steady inhale, hold for three seconds, and then an exhale. Repeat as many times as needed. Eyes, she can hear his voice in the distance, as if through a wall, need to be trained on one item. So Wanda looks straight ahead, only to see the damned cone and the trickle of ice cream oozing over the paper wrapper.

Pietro always ate his ice cream fast enough to not let it melt, no matter if they were ten, fifteen, twenty, he always ate it joyfully and quickly. And it was always the same flavor, he refused to eat any ice cream that wasn’t chestnut, they even learned which parlors carried the flavor, on which days, and who they could convince to give them either a free cone or a discounted one. He should be holding that cone right now.

The trickle of despair dripping into her soul suddenly turns into a downpour and she can feel the bullets ripping through his body, her knees ache at the cuts from when she fell--lost, confused, and angry. Years had passed, literal years without Pietro, and she had coped, survived, learned how to move on, yet she needs him back. Desperately wants that constant, to feel his mind, hold his hand. Wanda’s body starts to shake. She closes her eyes, clamping out the image of the cone, breathing in deeply again and again, though it becomes more difficult, the absence of Pietro too much, her soul torn asunder day after day after day without him. She no longer even has the Avengers, doesn’t have the compound, can’t count on Vision to always float through her wall, or get the shit beat out of her at training to distract her. The world hates her, half her former teammates hate her, she’s a wanted fugitive with no prospect of salvation. Much like when she was ten, clutching Pietro’s hand, eating ice cream. Only he’s not here anymore.

Her chest burns, breaths shallow and labored as the world seems to dissolve, the past mixing with the present, taunting her with a blank and empty future, and she can’t determine if she’s ten, if she’s falling with Sokovia, if she’s sleeping in a shelter with Pietro’s arms around her, if she’s back at the compound listening to the soothing lull of an English accent, or if she’s in Poland on a freezing day eating ice cream with her undercover boyfriend.

Only Pietro ever fully understood her when she spoke of separating from reality like this, of getting lost in the sea of memory, where each wave crashing down brings only more confusion. Wanda is falling now, a weightlessness overtaking her, and she closes her eyes as she feels her home plummet from beneath her, heart shattered and body empty, accepting her fate to join Pietro, wherever he went.

There is a feeling of movement, not of free falling, but hovering, her eyes cracking open long enough to see the world morphing around her: walls dropping away, the wind picking up around her head, stirring her hair, her legs swinging freely. There is motion and there is sound, words muffled and muddled so that she isn’t sure if people are screaming for help in the hell of flames, demanding why they are being asked to leave their homes, taunting her on the streets, calling her a criminal and a witch, or even just asking if she is okay. Her senses function like a kaleidoscope, shifting and rotating so that each combination of stimuli produces bursts of distorted experience that masks what exactly is happening or where she is. Wanda closes her eyes tighter, time slipping through her grasp, her fingers grabbing at the strands of her life, instead scrunching into the fabric of whomever is holding her-- maybe it’s Pietro, guiding her to wherever he’s been; maybe it’s Vision saving her from falling with Ultron’s carcass; maybe it’s the guards securing her after another flare up of her newly gifted powers; maybe it could even be her mother, cradling her after a night terror.

There is a chiming and then the world stops moving.

“Wanda?” A voice reaches out to her, calm though fraying at the edges. “Wanda.” Lavender fills her nose and a sweltering heat cocoons her. “Wanda, it is all right.” The ground under her sinks and creaks. Wanda flexes her fingers, digging her nails into a stiff fabric and a fluffy foundation. “Wanda, I made you tea.”  

She opens her eyes a sliver, just enough to confirm she is on a bed, noting a blurry patch of crimson not too far away. A sound attempts to come from her mouth, but her throat is parched, unwilling to function more than a croaked, “Vizh?”

A hand runs through her hair, each stroke diminishing the thoughts, bringing her back to the present. “I am here, Wanda.” It’s enough to vanquish most of the confusion, solidifying which reality she is currently in, yet still her body sinks under the weight of Pietro’s continued absence. “Do you want to discuss it?”

They established a routine in the early months of being Avengers, back when she was still figuring out who he was and what she was after everything, back before she could kiss him whenever she wanted, before she could slip into his mind at any given time, before he held her in a way that wasn’t just for comfort. It’s been a long time since they’ve used it, but clearly he remembers. Step 1: Neutralize the chance of public detection, Step 2: Utilize the calming principles of lavender and chamomile tea. Step 3: Offer to talk. “I-” Wanda tries to sit up but he lightly presses her down, crawling into the bed next to her so that their eyes are level. The gears are back, whirling in a frenzy that clashes with his overall calm demeanor. There’s so much to say, so much of it has already been said, countless times and honestly, she has no desire to talk about all of it again, can’t help but feel embarrassed at still having panic attacks like this. “Kesten was Pietro’s favorite flavor.”

“I see.” All of his empathy and apologies (ones for not being able to stop it sooner, for not being able to save Pietro, for not being able to take this pain away, for them being forced to moonlight as a couple) are wrapped into the two syllables along with a firm, nonjudgmental understanding that she doesn’t want to talk. “Would you like to try muscle relaxation?”

Wanda wants to know who all saw her attack, witnessed her crumbling facade, whether it attracted too much attention, if someone caught a picture and uploaded it somewhere. But he’s already moved them to Step 4: Regain control. Wanda decides to play along knowing there should be plenty of time to interrogate him as to what danger she placed them in. “That sounds nice.”

Unlike all the other times he did this at the compound, Vision wraps his arm around her, placing a chaste, loving kiss to her forehead before starting the process. “We will start with your hands.”

The first time he had her do this, she felt ridiculous, challenged him on it and refused for a time. Eventually he convinced her which soon transformed into her hoping he’d recommend this technique, as it allowed her more time with him and a chance to purposely place all of her attention on his voice. “Ready.”

“Focus on your fingers,” she wiggles them, brushing his stomach in the process, “I am glad you found them.” The smile is easily detected in his tone, but fades quickly as he instructs her. “Now focus on each hand individually, first squeeze your fingers into a fist, noting the tension," Wanda nestles into his chest, following his instructions, bending the fingers of her right hand into a shaking fist.  "Good, now ease your fingers open until there is no tension left.”

Her mind and powers calm as she begins to loosen the control of her grief, her fingers relaxing and dropping down one-by-one in relief. “Right hand good to go.”

A hand brushes through her hair, “Good job. Now your left hand.” She repeats the process, clenching and then unclenching her fingers, exhaling happily once both hands are resting against Vision’s body. The next step is her arms, so she starts to flex her right arm but pauses when Vision hugs her closer, drawing her forehead tenderly to his lips again. Such contact was never included in their routine, yet he seems indifferent to the change, segueing calmingly to the next part, “Well done, Wanda. Now-”

She stares into his eyes, awed at the twists and turns of life that brought this man to her and how he can so easily transition her from an all encompassing loss to the feeling of butterflies in her stomach.  “You’re changing the protocol.”

“I, um,” Vision frowns, not an upset or angry gesture, but a contemplative and shy move as he runs his fingers along her back, “thought such a gesture might aid in your relaxation. Perhaps a rewards based system of motivation.”

The timidness that fueled each touch and word in the early days of their not-quite-friendship-but-not-quite-lovers relationship has fallen away over the last year, giving way to this new, still cautious, but more confident side of Vision. Wanda grins, “I think it sounds helpful. Want to keep going?”

The half-arc of his lips is radiant, “Yes, now your arms.” He scoots away from her, leaving enough room for her to follow his instructions, “tighten your right bicep, drawing your forearm up.”

“Welcome to the gun show, Vizh.” It’s a joke he didn’t comprehend the first five times she used it, but now he simply smiles, head shaking as he watches her flex her muscles before releasing her arm to lay back down along her side. Then she repeats the action, and the joke, on the other side before Vision moves back, their chests touching as he lays another kiss on her forehead. “Next?”

They move through her body, his even commands guiding her to raise her shoulders up to touch her ears and then lower them into a peaceful state. He kisses her forehead with another “Good job.” Wanda sucks in a deep breath, creating tension in her lungs, only this time it’s under her control and Vision’s supervision, not a sense of gasping but a sense of order, her breath releasing against his face, causing him to blink rapidly before bestowing her reward. Her stomach collapses in and then expands out in time with his voice, only she pushes it farther than she's supposed to, bumping him with her body which leads to a quiet laugh as he kisses her again. “Lastly, Wanda," Vision holds her close, their foreheads touching as he talks, "squeeze your left thigh and curl your toes, then release.” Wanda sighs as she finishes the exercise, body sinking into the mattress, not because of grief anymore, but a sense serenity and contentment.  

Several minutes pass in silence, only the slight buzz from the radiator and the even rhythm of Vision’s breathing filling the air around her with a pleasing warmth. Having allowed her time to bask in her relaxation, Vision tiptoes into his next comment, “I am sorry.”

“For what?”

He shifts slightly, the springs complaining until he settles, lips pursed and eyes twisting in anxiety, “That the day did not match your expectations.”

None of her beachy daydreams included this moment, this is undoubtedly true, yet Wanda finds herself content to be wrapped in his arms, cuddled close on a freezing day. “It’s not your fault, Vizh. The day wasn’t horrible.”

“Not horrible is a poor benchmark for a day when we get so few together.”

Wanda grins at him, freeing her left arm from his embrace enough to draw her hand down his face, watch as his eyes flutter shut at the touch. For all that she has lost, all that she will lose in the future, she’s overjoyed that amongst all of that she has found him. “Well, there’s still time for you to fix the radiator and slap on a speedo.” He kisses her, stifling her laugh and distracting her from the world and all its cruelties for just a bit longer.

*Dzień dobry:  Good afternoon ** Dođi. Dođi, Wanda, otišli su: Come on. Come on Wanda, they’re gone. *** To je kesten: it’s chestnut!

[himbohunnicutt]

Tomorrow may rain, so I’ll Follow the Sun // D.S. Charlie Nelson

A/N: Hello! This is the second in my series of Charlie and Anya one shots - it is technically part of a series (which is as yet untitled) but it can be read individually. Please enjoy!

Word Count: 1.5k

TW: none

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MASTERLIST

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Anya stood staring out of her kitchen window, dressing gown pulled tight around her. Underneath, she wore one of Charlie’s t-shirts and a pair of his boxers she’d stolen last time she was at his house, not that there was much there anymore. Charlie effectively lived with her, and she didn’t mind one bit. She blew her nose as she watched the rain pour outside, making the winter day seem even more grey. She sipped the tea she’d made, and tried to eat a slice of toast. She’d come down with flu, and had no appetite. Charlie kept telling her she needed to eat, otherwise she’d feel even worse, but it took all her strength to get it down, and keep it down.

Charlie had been on a stakeout all night in the rain, so he’d be back any minute, exhausted and, if he’d been suspect chasing, soaked. Anya settled herself under a blanket on the sofa, and waited for him.

She was already fast asleep when he walked in, suitably tired and wet, half an hour later.

“I’m back!” Charlie shouted as he shut the door, hanging his coat up by the door. Anya stirred on the sofa, and smiled weakly at him as he walked into the room and saw her half asleep.

“Sorry love, did I wake you?” Charlie asked apologetically. He made his way over to the sofa, and sat down next to her.

“No harm done” Anya replied, leaning her head against his shoulder. Charlie stroked her hair as she began to sleep again.

They woke up a few hours later, Charlie having crashed out not long after Anya, exhausted from his stakeout with DCI Barnaby. He’d been over in Midsomer Vinae, and the drive back had been more exhausting than the stakeout, the winding country roads difficult to drive after a night of no sleep.

“Go to bed, Charlie. Get some proper sleep” Anya whispered as she made eye contact with the man next to her.

“I’m alright - lunch?” Charlie replied, looking at his watch. Anya nodded, and watched from her position on the sofa as Charlie ran upstairs to get changed before he got started on making their lunch.

They were halfway through their lunch when there was a knock on the door. Anya pulled on the jumper Charlie had discarded on one of the dining room chairs, and opened the door to find John and Sarah Barnaby.

“Hello Anya, we just wanted to see how you were?” Sarah asked, handing over a bar of chocolate and a packet of cold and flu medication. It took a moment, but John soon noticed her attire.

“Anya, is that one of Charlie’s jumpers?” He asked. The Barnabys had had their suspicions about the nature of Charlie and Anya’s relationship for a while. Before Anya could fumble an answer, Charlie shouted from the kitchen, oblivious to the conversation happening by the front door.

“Who is it, love?”

That gave the game away.

“Come in you two, we better explain” Anya said, stepping out of the way so John and Sarah could listen to Charlie and Anya’s explanation for keeping their relationship a secret.

Anya settled back into her nest on the sofa, Charlie next to her. They smirked at each other, trying to work out what the other was going to say when probed about their relationship. Sarah could be protective of Anya, and John of Charlie.

“So?” John prompted, raising his eyebrows at the couple. Charlie’s arm made its way around Anya’s shoulders protectively.

“So…” Charlie started, faltering at the first hurdle.

“How long?”

“6 months”

“6 months?!?” John practically shouted, before Sarah placed a gentle hand on his arm, as a comfort and as a warning.

“Yeah…”

“Any particular reason you didn’t tell us?” Sarah asked gently, trying to calm John down. She knew he was protective of his Sergeant, but she didn’t realise it was to such an extent.

“Didn’t want you interfering?” Charlie tried to argue.

“Not good enough. Try again.” John replied quickly.

“We wanted to make sure it was something serious before we told anybody, after…” Anya started, trailing off after she realised what she was about to say.

“After?” John probed gently.

“I left Hawaii because I was jilted at the altar. I was, understandably I think, a bit nervous getting into a new relationship. I wanted to be sure” Anya explained

“Gosh, I had no idea” Sarah whispered, looking sympathetically at her friend, who smiled weakly back at her.

“You three are the only people in England who know” The younger woman whispered.

“And you’re happy now?” Sarah continued, giving John a look to tell him to be quiet. He obliged, not wishing to anger his most beloved wife.

“Tremendously so” Anya replied, smiling over at Charlie widely.

“He’s treating you right?”

“He is. He’s wonderful”

“Have you ever been described as wonderful, Nelson?” John joked, raising his eyebrows at his Sergeant. Charlie just rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Thanks sir, appreciate it” He replied.

“You’re welcome. Just checking you’re being good to her” The older man said, smiling fondly at the young couple.

“Of course I am. I love her” Charlie replied, a tad defensive. His arm around Anya’s shoulder pulled her closer, so her head rested on his shoulder.

“I love him quite a lot too” Anya said, reaching up to kiss Charlie’s cheek. Charlie just blushed.

The next week, once Anya was better and Charlie had caught up on sleep, the couple were invited for dinner at the Barnabys with Kate. Kate had known about Charlie and Anya’s relationship since the beginning. The two women were close, especially after Kate had caught Anya sneaking out of the house after a (not exactly quiet) night spent with Charlie.

Charlie and Anya walked up to the door, hand in hand. They were both secretly thrilled they could do this now - no more hiding and pretending they were just friends when at dinner with the Barnabys. Sarah had already begun to joke about double dates with Kate looking after Betty and Sykes. Anya had agreed to the idea on behalf of the both of them, Charlie didn’t need to know. In her spare hand, Anya carried a book and a bunch of flowers for Sarah, and Charlie carried a bottle of wine to have with dinner. They knocked on the door, and were pleasantly surprised to find Sarah behind it, Betty in her arms. Anya immediately took Betty for a cuddle, leaving Charlie to give Sarah the small gifts and sort their things out. Sarah and Charlie looked at each other with a grimace - they both knew how broody Anya got around Betty.

They all settled on the sofas as dinner bubbled away on the stove, waiting for Kate to arrive. Charlie and Anya sat on the smaller of the two sofas, Betty balanced on their knees. Anya was cooing to the little girl, who was utterly fascinated by the young couple playing with her. When she’d been born, she’d immediately taken to Charlie, his kind face seeming inviting to the newborn Betty. She’d taken to Anya almost as quickly, always laughing and gurgling when the young woman was around. Anya and Charlie, well, it was a winning combination as far as Betty Barnaby was concerned.

When Kate arrived, Charlie’s arm was slung over the back of the sofa behind his girlfriend, who held a sleeping Betty, having just had her bottle courtesy of Uncle Charlie and Auntie Anya. Kate smirked as she slipped past and into the kitchen unnoticed.

“They’ll be engaged before the year is out” Kate whispered as she reached Sarah, who was leaning against the counter, watching her young friends dote over her daughter.

“She’ll be nervous, after what happened last time” Sarah replied, smiling sympathetically. She’d been having the same thoughts about where Charlie and Anya’s relationship was going.

“He’ll be nervous! He won’t believe his luck when she says yes” Kate said.

“When?” John asked from the other side of the kitchen, having eavesdropped on the women’s conversation.

“Look at them John, that’s true love” Kate answered, looking over towards the DCI with a smirk on her face.

Betty was put to bed, much to Anya’s dismay, and dinner was eaten. The teasing was mild...to start with.

“So Anya, does Charlie make you scream as loud at your house as he does at ours?” Kate asked after a few glasses of wine. Charlie’s eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head. Anya just smirked.

“Louder” She replied, leaning into Kate, holding Charlie’s hand. The girls, quite drunk by that point, burst out laughing. Charlie and John left them to it, making their way into the living room where they could get some peace and quiet.

Charlie dragged Anya home, and tried to get her to drink some water before she went to bed. She didn’t. She grabbed hold of his arm and they collapsed into bed, clothes strewn all over the room. Charlie glanced over at his drunk girlfriend, and realised he wasn’t going to love anybody else as much as he loved her.

[truthofherdreams]

people can surprise you (or not)

also on ao3

Wednesday

Dmitry starts his working day with opening the Google Doc From Hell, like a good boy. His colleague hasn’t written his notes from yesterday yet, but there is already a plan for today’s bullshit, and Dmitry dreads the worst. He scrolls down, before rolling his eyes so much he’s afraid they got stuck at the back of his head for a second there.

DAY 2: IGNORE HER

Women are needy and crave the attention of their partner. What is worse for them than being ignored for an entire day, their texts left on read with no reply, their email pushed to the side? A woman will go crazy in a matter of hours when the world stops revolving around her. Perhaps a flood of texts is to be expected?

Dmitry straight-up cackles at the paragraph. Is that guy for real? A glance to the top of the page tells him they both have the document opened in a tab right now, and the need to open the chat panel on the right just to ask his colleague if he has ever spoken to a woman, even just once, in his life… Yeah, the urge is strong.

At least he wrote ‘women’ instead of ‘females’? That’s… A start, Dmitry guesses? Not as profoundly misogynistic as it could have been? He’s just grasping at straws now.

Instead, he comments ‘A little short noticed, but okay.’ No need to broadcast the fact that, up until five minutes ago, he was texting Anya. Started texting Anya the moment he woke up, actually, because he didn’t want to get out of bed and he opened Facebook and there was a funny meme. A funny meme he wanted to share with her, for some reason. Because it would make her smile. Because he wanted to text her as early as eight in the morning, but ‘good morning darling’ sounded too cheesy. So instead he sent her a funny meme, and she replied with another one, and it was half an hour of this nonsense.

Thankfully for him, he always wakes up earlier than he needs and traffic is not a problem with his motorbike. So texting Anya didn’t even make him late to work, only in a good mood. As if the memories of last night -- making out on his bed, him half-naked, her still fully clothed, until she called a Uber and went home -- were not enough to have him in a good mood.

Except now he has a new text from Anya, and he can’t open it. Well, he can. He can’t reply to it, which is even worse. The idea of spending the day chatting with Anya made going to work more tolerable, if he has to be honest with himself. First, because she’s a fucking delight, and she makes him laugh, and she’s amazing. And second, well. Because if he shows how charming he is most of the time, it will make turning into an asshole once in a while less painful to her?

Straws. Grasping.

Fuck Gleb.

Dmitry closes his eyes and sighs, before he grabs his phone. She sent one of those cat-picture-with-a-comment-in-Russian-badly-translated-into-English things from Tumblr. Which, it’s adorable. He loves it. Especially because it’s two kittens kissing, with *тьмок* written in big white letters. It’s less a meme and more obvious flirting at this point and he can’t fucking answer because his boss is a fucking asshole. He hates his life.

He flips his phone so the screen is against his desk, closes the Whatsapp web tab he usually has opened, and goes back to the Google Doc. He needs more coffee if he has to go through all of this without quitting on the spot. As if hearing his thoughts, Vlad is suddenly at his side, two fuming mugs in hands. Vlad, his saviour.

“You look like you need some liquid comfort,” the older man says.

“I love you so much right now,” Dmitry replies without even an ounce of sarcasm in his voice. He moans a little at the coffee, even more so when the after-taste of whiskey hits him and Vlad smirks.

Vlad.

His fucking saviour.

“Don’t let them get you down,” Vlad says in hushed tones. “I… If you want, I may have some contacts in London.”

Dmitry’s eyes widen, just a little. “What.”

His friend shrugs, before he leans against the desk. Mug to his lips, to hide his mouth from wandering eyes. “Lily, she knows people. We can find you something, if you want.”

Dmitry’s mouth must be hanging open at this point. He picks it from the floor, and blinks in confusion several times. “You’d do that? For me?”

Vlad chuckles, his almost-but-not-quite Santa laugh, and puts a hand on Dmitry’s shoulder. “You’re wasting your potential here. All those idiots, they don’t matter much. But you, you’re not supposed to be here.”

“What about you?” Dmitry finds himself asking, because. Well. He can’t think of much else right now, to be honest.

Vlad’s only response is a shrug, at first, and for a moment Dmitry believes he will leave it at that. But the older man takes a sip of his coffee, before he replies, “I don’t mind. It keeps me busy, and that’s all I need.”

Dmitry blinks again. It doesn’t chase away the confusion. But then he remembers his nice little discussion with Gleb yesterday, and the threats, and his mood goes sour once again. “I need to finish this first,” he says with a glare at the screen. “I need this article. I need to finish it. I need… nerves of steel.”

Vlad squeezes his shoulder once more, as if he understands perfectly what Dmitry means behind this babbling nonsense. And perhaps he does, who knows. “I will tell Lily to ask around, okay? You can work on your resignation letter in the meanwhile.”

“You’re the fucking best.”

“Don’t I know it,” Vlad answers, raising his mug, before he goes back to his own desk.

Dmitry smiles at him, then to himself. He rolls his shoulders and cracks his knuckles, before focusing back on his computer screen. He can do this. He fucking can do this, and he will. And anyway, he has a paragraph to write, one filled to the brim with praises about his girlfriend’s video game skills. He can fucking do this.

 …

 Anya gets stuck in one meeting after another today, which is good for her brain, but not so much for her nerves. It’s stressful, to jump from a meeting to a professional lunch to a reunion about their annual budget, to a meeting with parents. Too many things to remembers, to write down, to check. She carries her professional tablet and her huge filofax everywhere she goes, a pen tucked behind her ear, but it doesn’t stop her brain from frying halfway through the day.

Thankfully for her, she gets a full hour break in the middle of the afternoon, just enough for her to hide in her office with a cup of tea. Closed door, switched-off computer, phone on silence. Nothing but boiling tea and some chocolate cookies.

And, apparently, Alexei keeping her company.

“You mind?” he asks, even if he doesn’t wait her answer to enter her office and throw himself on the couch she keeps there for informal meetings. His messenger bag falls to the floor, and Alexei puts his arm above his eyes, ever the dramatic boy. “Library hours are exhausting.”

“Tell me about it,” she replies with a roll of her eyes.

She doesn’t necessary miss university, but after a day as full as hers, the idea of just sitting in a lecture hall and take notes, all the while chatting with her friends… well, it makes her nostalgic, just a little. She doesn’t miss exams, though. Not that Alexei has a lot of those anymore, spending his days between the library and seminars with clueless undergrads.

She sighs a little, before grabbing the cookie box and throwing it to Alexei. It lands on his chest and he huffs, then shoves two of them in his mouth. Gross. Anya makes a face, even more so when he grins at her, before she frowns.

“Did you get into a fight?” she asks.

The bruise is barely there, and she would probably have missed it were it not for the way Alexei stretched his neck to look at her above the armrest. He rolls his eyes, then smirks. “If you can call it a fight.”

It takes Anya two seconds to understand. Then to glower at him. “Are you purposefully not taking your meds to show off hickeys?”

Alexei doesn’t even look sorry, which is what makes her mad. He simply shrugs, like it’s not important, not dangerous. “I’m fine, okay? Find some chill.”

“Find some -- Alexei! What if something happened?”

“Stop being such an Olga about it!”

He sits up, to give a little more power to his glare, but it doesn’t have much of an effect of Anya. Not when she remembers him being thirteen and stupid, showing off in front of his friends by jumping into the ocean from a cliff. His leg had hit a rock at the bottom of the sea, and what would have been a nasty bruise for any teenager turned out to be two weeks at the hospital for him. She still remembers him, pale and sweating and whimpering, before the meds kicked him and knocked him out. She still remember how purple and ugly the bruise on his leg looked. She still remembers it all too well.

“Stop being so reckless with your meds!”

“I’m fine, okay!” And then, because he’s Alexei, his mood switches in about half a second and he smirks at her. “And speaking of hickeys…”

Anya’s hand goes straight to her neck, a blush burning on her cheeks. She put some concealer on this morning, if only to look nice and proper at work, but Alexei never misses anything. Not even the hickeys Dmitry branded into her skin despite her breathless, laughing protests.

Alexei sits cross-legged on the couch and shoves another cookie in his mouth, still smirking, raising his eyebrows at her. Sometimes, Anya wonders why exactly she considers him her best friend, because he’s nothing but insufferable at best. He can play the annoying little brother part too perfectly for his own good, truth be told.

“That’s none of your business,” she says in her ‘drop it now’ voice.

Not that Alexei cares much about that, mind you. “Maria says you two are a thing now? Like, proper couple, not just the bet thing.”

Any can’t help it; she glances at her phone. She refuses to be that clingy girl who’s upset about a boy not texting her back, even more so when there is a logical explanation to it. She’s not stupid, she can draw her own conclusions as to why Dmitry suddenly stopped texting her after nine in the morning. She won’t make it weird. It’s not because she decided to flirt with Russian memes. It’s just, he’s busy. She’s busy. They’re busy. It’s fine, really, she won’t make a mountain out of a molehill.

“Don’t change the subject,” she snaps at Alexei. “Take your meds or I’m telling Olga.”

Alexei crosses his arms on his chest, chin tilted up, like the little brat he is. “You’re not the boss of me.”

“Take your meds or I’m telling Nana.”

He doesn’t move, at first, but hesitation flashes through his eyes. Anya doesn’t look away from him, defiant, waiting a few more seconds before she stretches her hand as if to grab her phone. She doesn’t need to go that far, though, because Alexei reaches for his own phone first.

He goes through it for a few seconds, before putting it to his ear. Anya listens intently as he makes an appointment with the nurse for his injection in two hours’ time. Good boy. It doesn’t really make his glare go away, not that Anya expected it too. He can be mad all he wants, but at least he will be safe. That’s all she wants for him.

Anya relaxes back in her chair and takes a sip of her tea. With a smile of her own, she says, “I only have twenty minutes left before my meeting, so choose quickly. You can sulk or I can tell you about my date last night.”

She glances at her phone to play it cool -- no text from Dmitry -- while Alexei’s frown turns into a grin. Too easy.

 …

 Dmitry can follow the rules, but he knows how to find a damn loophole when he needs one. He’s going his brains about him, after all, and so he dutifully waits until midnight. Day three, right? No more of that silence treatment bullshit.

[thewonderfulkatsukinikifrovs]

Hi! Two hugs for a fluffy kid fic of victuuri? Cute kid crush x}

Okay, I have to warn you. There are spoilers below for The Princess Bride, of all things. Also, speculation as to the existence of Santa. Proceed at your own peril.

Trouble. That’s the word Yuuri’s teachers used. Every time Victor got put in the corner for a time out, or was scolded, or stole crayons from girls, or rough housed with the other boys, the word they always used was trouble.

Yuuri, on the other hand, was a good boy. Yuuri never got into trouble. He never made trouble either. His mother had always praised him for that. She’d pinch his cheeks and tell him what a good boy he always was every night when dinner was served. She’d give him a smile and his favourite dish as rewards for his manners. Yuuri knew that he should stay away from trouble for her - stay away from Victor. But when trouble comes to you, there’s little anyone can do to stop it.

“Why do you play with Yuko?” Yuuri bit his lip and tried to keep his nose down in his picture book. Yuko sat beside him like she always did during recess. Beneath the big tree at the edge of the schoolyard, they’d perch themselves in the shade, arms linked, reading Harry Potter, or Percy Jackson. Once they tried to start Twilight. Yuuri didn’t like that one. Victor was intruding on that time, as far as Yuuri was concerned. “She’ll give you cooties.”

“Cooties?” The girl asked, playing with the end of her ponytail. “What’s cooties.”

“Cooties. They’re girl germs,” Victor elaborated, puffing out his chest and clutching a big, red, rubber ball under one arm. He seemed pleased with himself and his explanation. Even if Yuuri thought it didn’t make sense. “Girls make boys sick. That’s what they say.”

“I always read with Yuko and I never get sick.”

“Yeah,” she whined, cuddling closer into her friend’s side. “I don’t make him sick.”

“That’s just the cooties talking,” the other boy huffed. “You should come play with me. Then your cooties will get better.”

“No, go away!”

Victor pouted but didn’t deflate at that. “Fine. We can play when you’re not with your dumb girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

Yuuri bristled as he watched Victor skip back over to the other kids playing four-square on the pavement. Why would Victor even want to play with Yuuri when there were so many other kids just like him? He should just leave them alone to read.

“Yuuri! Yuuri! Do you wanna play a game?” Victor had been waiting outside the big double doors leading out to the schoolyard the next day. He was smiling a big toothy smile, eyes fluttering and cheeks rosy as he saw his would-be play-mate.

“I was gonna read with Yuko,” he said, pressing his new library book close to his chest. “I always read with Yuko.”

“But Yuko’s playing tag today,” Victor said. “They said it’s girls only. But I don’t care. They have cooties anyways.”

Yuuri pouted. She hadn’t told him she was playing tag. Why would it be girls only? That’s rude. He marched on ahead passed Victor, trying not to let the news get to him. “I’ll read on my own then.”

“You still wanna read?” He could hear sneakers padding along behind him. Yuuri tried not to tense up too much as ha hand fell on his shoulder. “What are you reading then?”

“The Princess Bride,” Yuuri answered, blushing. Victor would probably just make fun of him for that.

The jab of an elbow, the smack to the head, the laughter, the jeering about cooties, none of it happened. Instead Victor brightened and blinked his wide blue eyes and yelled out at the top of his lungs. “That’s my favourite movie!”

Yuuri stopped in his tracks. “Mine too. I wanted to read the book for so long.”

“I love Wesley! He’s so cool!” Victor fell into a mock fighting stance and poked at Yuuri like he was jabbing him with a sword. The other boy giggled as he was jabbed in the tummy. “He’s like batman but better.”

“I like Buttercup,” Yuuri blushed. “Her clothes are so pretty and flowy. And her hair is-”

“You like long hair?” Victor asked, jumping happily at the turn this conversation was taking. “I do too! I want to grow mine out but Papa won’t let me.”

“You’d look nice with long hair,” Yuuri said, trying to picture the tall, slender boy with his chin up and hair down.

“You think so?” Victor asked, smile sweet as he could manage.

“Yeah, I do.”

Days went by. Weeks went by. Months went by. Bit-by-bit Yuuri could see it. Everyone was getting taller. The girls were starting to pack together and talk about things Yuuri couldn’t understand. The boys became even rougher than before and soon enough they split off between the kids who rough housed and the ones sitting in circles playing Nintendo games in groups.

Yuuri fit into neither, so he tried standing with Yuko as she played with the other girls (which happened more and more these days.) But they always gave him weird looks. Especially as winter rolled around and they started whispering about girl-talk. That’s when Yuuri stopped trying and went back to reading The Princess Bride under the big tree.

He wasn’t alone though. The first day he turned Yuko down to read, Victor came sauntering over, all confidence. He wore his hair in a short ponytail as his hair grew, little-by-little. He was changing, just like everyone else around Yuuri. He knew he said Victor would look nice with long hair but he still missed how it used to look.

“You haven’t finished yet?”

Yuuri shook his head, shuffling over for Victor to take a seat beside him. The platinum blonde took the opportunity and squeezed in close, keeping the two warm in the winter snow.

“What part are you at?”

“The part where the dread pirate Roberts reveals he was Wesley the whole time,” Yuuri said, pointing to the line he had stopped at. “I haven’t gotten very far.”

“Obviously not,” Victor huffed. Yuuri’s eyes followed the smoky breath rising from Victor’s mouth and wondered if the breath could warm him up. All he’d have to do was ask Victor to hold his hands and breath on them. A blush covered his cheeks at the idea. That would be too much. “Isn’t this a kissy bit?”

“Yeah,” Yuuri nodded. “Does it bother you? Because cooties?”

“Nah,” Victor said. “Papa told me cooties aren’t real. He says they’re made up. Like Santa.”

“Santa’s not-”

“Why do they like to kiss so much?” Victor groaned, cutting off the shaking of Yuuri’s belief in Christmas. “Grown ups, I mean. It’s just touching. People touch all the time.”

Yuuri just shrugged, letting his eyes wander back to the page and the description of the “kissy bit” Victor seemed so fixated on. “I don’t know why.”

“Georgi told me he kissed Anya,” Victor announced, rolling his eyes. Yuuri wasn’t sure that he should be hearing any of this. “He’s always with Anya now. Anya this. Anya that. He’s got no time for me anymore.”

“Maybe we’ll understand when it happens,” Yuuri suggested. Victor looked up at him, lips parted and hair blowing in the chilled wind. “Kisses are special like that, right?”

“Special?”

“My Mom says you kiss people who are special,” Yuuri went on, blinking away the snowflakes getting caught in his lashes. “That’s why Dads kiss Moms and why Mari kisses her girlfriend and why Mom gives me a kiss on the forehead whenever she tucks me in.”

“What about boys?” Victor whispered, the sound of his voice as light as his foggy breath. He was moving closer, leaning in. He felt Victors mitten weigh down over Yuuri’s own. He was warm, just like Yuuri thought. He was really warm. “What about when boys think other boys are special. Can they kiss them?”

“I hope so,” Yuuri choked out without thinking.

Victor smiled, forehead brushing against Yuuri’s own as he moved closer yet. A second, another second, and Yuuri saw Victor’s eyes close, felt chapped lips puckered on top of his. Victor pulled back, pink covering his cheeks.

“Me too.”

[deztinywarriors]

The Linked Charms - Episode 15 (Multi Liverpool players)

[rxbcn-blog]

♥ What's the WORST thing that has happened to you rp wise?

Buckle up boys and girls, we’re in for an adventure that’s more than a year long.

My first fandom for roleplay was actually supposed to be an April Fool’s joke and I ended up falling in love with the account so I just kept having fun with the character. Hiccup of How to Train Your Dragon, and this was roleplaying on Facebook before they started putting out ban waves at the drop of a hat. I was called the Mother of Facebook RP for this fandom, but the duplicates came and eventually I ended up bonding with one who I affectionately nicknamed Runt.

Runt, first and foremost, was an absolute sweetheart. At first I didn’t like Runt because he was a duplicate, but I grew to like him and he was probably my favorite Hiccup after my own. So my bad-muse senses started tingling (before I even knew what those were) when Eilian appeared on the scene. I don’t know what her real name was, so Eilian© will be the muse and Eilian will be the mun.

Eilian©’s profile picture was literally a screencap of Astrid where they’d photoshopped the hair from blonde to brown and hastily added some details in to make her appear different. Eilian©’s backstory was literally that her entire village just forgot she existed one day (seriously, I once tried to come up with a logical in-thread explanation as to why the memory loss happened but she shot them all down) so she had decided to travel the world with her dragon (this alone should’ve set warning bells off since she apparently already had a dragon??? and it was a night fury????) and study dragons and shit.

Eilian© took advantage of other people to get what she wanted, and what she wanted was Runt. Eilian abused people roleplaying as Astrid (even if they weren’t pursuing a ship with Runt) until no Astrid would have anything to do with him, then pretty much verbally battered Runt’s mun to ship with her. Eilian© would routinely do “if you love me then…” and other types of manipulative bullshit but we were all young and stupid so we just thought this was normal.

Then Eilian© introduced her friend Eir the healer (who was obviously played by Eilian as well) and since we were realizing she was being abusive and weren’t moving to her defense whenever she had some imagined issue, Eir would be her lackey (can you be your own lackey????). Eir and Eilian© pretty much forced Runt into marrying Eilian© (again, we were all young and stupid and didn’t really know how to get out of doing plots we didn’t want).

Eilian© got pregnant and since it’s a time period before the advent of medical tests that could tell the sex of the baby, she said she didn’t know what she’d have. Makes sense so far. But then one night she decided Runt must have been cheating on her because she smelled flowers on him (for context, Runt and I had a thread earlier in the day where we went to a field and he decided to pick flowers for her because again he’s a total sweetheart) and told him that he was abandoning her and their daughter (somehow she knew the sex now??????). She, while pregnant, got drunk (she got drunk a lot actually, now that I think about it) and fell off a cliff and went into a “coma” (???????)

During this, my cousin wanted to start RP and I helped her make a muse (a muse who I would later take control of, but would occasionally hop into when my cousin’s workload with college got too much) who was pretty much the type of girl Runt needed. This was mainly coincidental, but it really didn’t help Eilian©’s stability. Since Eilian wasn’t touching the account since her “coma” (again, ??????????) we were thinking that maybe she was using this as a chance to get rid of the muse and focus on Eir. We all, my cousin’s muse included, did what came natural.

Consoling Runt, Eilian appeared unaware of what was going on and posted ooc status saying that we were to leave him alone and stop blaming him. Multiple people (myself included) commented that “you’re the only one mentioning him being at fault” which prompted her to delete all the comments that were against her and leave the account on hiatus again. Eilian© ended up delivering a healthy baby girl (????? she spent half the pregnancy drunk and the other half in a coma???????????) and died in childbirth.

We thought we were free, but nope. Eilian© started following around the muses that she interacted with as a motherfucking ghost. Cousin’s muse and Runt were developing a relationship and they ended up having several children later on, but for the time being they were focusing on Anya, the baby that Eilian© miraculously didn’t harm with her drinking and falling off a cliff and ending up in a coma (I CANNOT GET OVER HOW WEIRD THAT PART WAS OKAY? HOW DO YOU JUST, YOU’RE PREGNANT WHY ARE YOU AROUND CLIFFS IN THE FIRST PLACE?????????) and basically giving baby Anya all the love they could.

Eilian mistook the natural grieving and politeness resulting from death as us all wanting her shitty must back from the grave. So she broughtEilian© back to life (?????????????????????????????????) and took baby Anya back. Cousin’s muse was devastated since she’d raised that baby since she was born and what was effectively her daughter was being snatched away. Cousin’s muse and Runt had twins, a boy and girl.Eilian© came over to visit the baby twins and took cousin’s muse aside, quietly asking her if she was okay if she slept with Runt to have another baby. Cousin’s muse simply answered that “Well, it’d hurt me to know he’s doing it but ultimately it’s his choice and I’ll support him” and then cousin came to us (Runt, myself, and a few friends we’d had at the time) to tell us this and there was confusion from each and every one of us.

Runt confronted her and she said she just didn’t want to sneak around behind my cousin’s muse’s back. By this point we all had enough and blocked her, deciding that Runt and cousin’s muse were raising Anya again and they had several more children.

Throughout all of this, we would use the messenger function to try reasoning with her and we found out she was bipolar but refusing to take medication because she didn’t believe she needed to take it when she was feeling well (a shitty stereotype, but she did fall into it sadly). When we expressed our concern over her mental health, she would always claim we were being ablest and insult us all. I feel guilt for not being able to help her with her illness, but I couldn’t force her to take her medication. I recognize that her illness clouds her judgment, but it doesn’t absolve her of responsibility.

And then, Sorcerer’s Apprentice came out, that one with Nic Cage and Jay Baruchel. I hopped onboard and made a new facebook for the lead, Dave Stutler (Baruchel). My buddy Runt joined me as Balthazar Blake (Cage). It was fun! Eilian was forgotten and we were coming up with plot ideas, we’d even started a crossover with Warehouse 13, one of my favorite shows!

But then, she returned as a character named Gwen. As per my headcanons, Dave doesn’t like confrontation because of bullying after his first introduction to sorcery. If you’re not familiar with the movie, as a child Dave ended up in the midst of a battle against Balthazar and an evil sorcerer. Dave managed to get loose, tried to tell other kids what happened, and when they went to see it looked like nothing had happened and it became a thing to the point where Dave comments later on in the movie that “in some parts of the tristate area they still call a mental breakdown ‘pulling a david stutler’.”

For my headcanons, since this happened during childhood, Dave ended up a big target of bullying and would still instinctively try to escape before fighting if he felt he was in trouble. So; it definitely made him feel threatened when some random girl he doesn’t know rolls up next to him on a busy street, talks like she knows him, then use magic to stop the rain from falling (again, busy street with tons of people that don’t use sorcery?????). Dave, naturally, ran off.

Gwen proceeded to ride her motorcycle onto the sidewalk, chase him three city blocks, chase him into a store (still on the motorcycle), destroy the store, then get mad when he doesn’t want to talk to her. I wish I was fucking joking but this was an actual thing that happened and it was fucking terrifying even from an outside perspective.

Gwen pops by the shop where he “works” (a cover for him going to this place to learn more sorcery stuff), and starts talking about canon movie events she could have no way of knowing, then claims her magic book (as in book for learning magic and also happens to be magical) told her the things that happened. Even though that’s not really how that works.

Eilian would message me, convinced that I was Runt even though I told her several times that I wasn’t. This was how I knew without a shadow of a doubt it was her.

Another night, Gwen just showed up and told Dave to follow her. He was reluctant but followed anyway, thinking it was something important. She wanted to impress a guy that doesn’t like conflict by showing him how well she wins at robotics fights???? Even after it’s explained to her several times that I am not Runt and Dave doesn’t like fighting, she didn’t “understand” what she was doing wrong (more like she refused to admit she was wrong) and we ended up having to block her.

Luckily though, after that I never heard from Eilian again.

thank god

[pocket-size-gay]

Asteri Tale Chapter 21 Libra part 2

Here’s part 2 of http://hisumim.tumblr.com/post/157644473304/asteri-tale-chapter-21-libra-part-1

   Everyone returned to class as usual. As Yamaguchi sensei's class dragged on, Kelly observed Alex, this time with a purpose other than to satisfy her curiosity. He still seemed on cloud nine about what ever conversation he was having over text. "Who could he be talking to?" Kelly yawned as the class came to an end. Most of the student cleared out of the room. Alex lagged behind the crowd as he drifted along. Kelly quickly grabbed her bag and jogged up to him.    "Hey, Murasa san." she called out to him casually. "No one is around why not give it a go?" he jumped a little and turned to her.    "What do you want Dunley san?" his face was flushed a bit as he scowled. "Don't you have friends to talk to?"    "They are always so loud..." Kelly sighed. It wasn't a lie.    "Ha, you think so too, huh?" Alex laughed a little then grimaced, returning to his scowl. He averted his gaze and hastened his pace. "You probably shouldn't be seen talking to me." he said bitterly.    "Uh, why is that?" Kelly cocked her head to the side.    "Oh, they haven't told you yet? Poor thing." Alex gave a devious giggle. "I've done awful things to people like you."    "Surely you had your reasons." Kelly shrugged. "I have got to get him to let his guard down around me if I am to get anything out of him."    "Naturally! You hooligans think that rules don't apply to you!" Alex scoffed. "If I'm to keep order, I must resort to extreme measures, set an example."    "Controlling the masses with fear, hmm." Kelly pressed her fingertips to her lips. "Does it work?" Alex gave a devilish grin.    "Have you witnessed any transgressions being committed?" he asked and turned his head to the side, giving her an arrogant look.    "Hm, no." Kelly thought over the passes two weeks. "The really picked the right guy for the job then."    "There's no need for flattery Dunley san." Alex barked back. "Enough of this, what do you really want?" he sighed and sped up, trying to distance himself from her.    "You seem lonely, always by yourself." Kelly shrugged. "I thought you could use a friend." Alex abruptly stopped and whipped around to face her.    "Cut the crap!" he bared his teeth to hide his embarrassment. "What could you possibly see in someone like me...?" he hissed softly.    "The company you keep leaves a lasting impression, right?" Kelly played to Alex's devotion to the rules. "Those delinquents are troublesome, I would hate to have them tarnish my reputation before I have the chance to make a name for myself here." she spoke in a suave tone. Alex burst out laughing. Kelly frowned at his unexpected reaction. "My, this isn't going as well as I planned."    "You're barking up the wrong tree, kid!" Alex sighed as his laughter calmed. "You being seen with me will only make everyone hate you more, I guarantee it!" Kelly pursed her lips together, displeased with his response.    "Unlike the others I don't buy your 'tough guy' act one bit!" she looked to Alex with a cunning expression. "There is more to you than meets the eye and I am going to figure it out!" Alex gasped and turned away, his face flushed a deep shade of red. "Just a little more..."    "Wh-what are you going on about?!" Alex started walking at a quick pace towards the gym. "Are you really that stupid?!" he reached for the door when Kelly grabbed his sleeve.    "Then who have you been so preoccupied with this week?" Kelly slid between the door and him. "Everyone has seen you glued to your phone!" Alex's jaw dropped as he stared back in mortification.    "I-I...it's for work!" Alex roared. "I used my phone to communicate as part of my job!" he wasn't lying, he did use it in some situations, but this was clearly unrelated. "M-mind your own damn business, Dunley!"    "I don't buy it...I will find out what you are holding back." Kelly pushed back on the door, allowing Alex into the gym. "Even if I have to stick to you for the rest of the year!" she declared deviously. "There too." she gestured to the locker rooms.    "W-WH-WHAT?!" Alex's entire body stiffened. "F-f-follow me into the locker rooms and-and I'll have you expelled!" he wrapped his arms around himself in shame, his face returned to its previous shade of red.    "Fine, fine!" Kelly waved and laughed as she walked into the girls' locker room. Alex brooded, embarrassed by Kelly's bold declaration before walking into the boys' locker room. Mira ran up to Kelly as she started changing.    "Sooooo? how'd it go?" she wiggled around excitedly. Jem and Mini looked to Anya dubiously.    "Huh?" Mini raised one eyebrow.    "What's that about?" Jem pointed.    "I wasn't supposed to tell you, but Skai is having Dunley san talk to Murasa." Anya sighed and twirled a strand of hair around her finger, feeling guilty.    "Whaa? Why her?" Mini pouted.    "Cause you guys have already been revealed and knowing you, you'd pick a fight with him instead!" Anya laughed unenthusiastically.    "We saw how well that went when Saveli tried that..." Kelly groaned. The twins sulked. Once everyone had finished changing, the group left for the gym. The twins ran over to Skai, whining.    "No fair, Noriko!" Jem poked his arm.    "Why couldn't we do it?" Mini growled while frowning. Skai narrowed his eyes to a scowl then turned to Kelly.    "Anything?" he adjusted his glasses as he looked her over. "You look unharmed."    "Nothing yet, but I think I am on to something." she smirked and turned to the locked room doors as Alex walked out with Arlin. "Well, I'm off." she walked away from the group. The twins glowered at Skai and whined.    "We would have gotten something already!" Jem sneered.    "No! The last encounter two you had with Murasa ended badly, you were both injured!" Skai paused, his expression turned dark. "It was all my fault, I won't allow a repeat of that to occur." the girls rubbed their arms anxiously. "He blames himself for that?" Alex pulled Arlin along to the far side of the gym bleachers. Kelly inconspicuously leaned on them a fair distance away to listen in on the boys.    "A-about yesterday...Arlin what were you thinking?" Alex started of hesitantly. Arlin scoffed. "There was no reason to sabotage that clone, you could have killed them!" Alex hissed, trying to keep his voice down.    "I'm disappointed it didn't, we'd have fewer obstacles to take care of!" Arlin growled in frustration.    "Look! I know exactly how you feel, but killing is never the answer!" Alex paused, taking in a deep breath. "Once we hand over Sharpe to our master none of them will matter anymore!" Arlin eyed Alex skeptically. Kelly peered around the edge of the bleachers to see what they were doing. Arlin turned and started walking away.    "You've grown soft, Alex. I don't know what's gotten into you lately, but you need to wake up to the reality of our circumstance!" he let out a deep sigh and grit his teeth together. "Things don't always work out so perfectly, I thought you of all people would understand that!" Arlin barked back then stormed off. "Well, this can't be good..." Kelly stuck to the side to avoid Arlin's line of sight as he passed. Alex hung his head.    "What HAS gotten into me lately?" he reiterated Arlin's harsh remarks to himself as a question. "Pfft, not like I ever approved of killing people in the first place..." Kelly glanced back at Alex, who pulled out his phone. She silently observed him until he frowned again, his phone seemed to be ringing. "A call, now?" Kelly feigned ignorance and approached him cautiously.    "Are you going to answer that?" she asked coyly. Alex raised his eyes to meet hers.    "Well I don't really have a choice now, do it?" he groaned to himself and accepted the call, putting his phone to his ear. "Yes?" There was the faint sound of an older male voice on the other end of the call. The voice was dark and a little raspy with a foreign tinge to it. Alex's already distraught mood grew more troubled by the topic of the call. "I understand, we won't fail you." he asserted but his face twisted in disgust. The other person on the phone gave a sharp laugh and continued talking. Alex's eyes drifted to Kelly. "If that's what you wish, consider it done." There was more from the other end then Alex said, "I'll be there as soon as class lets out." and ended the call. Kelly watched him inquisitively as if asking for an explanation with her eyes rather than with words. Alex rolled his eyes at her. "Will you just give up already? I'm under no obligation to explain myself to you."    "You didn't seem too happy about that call just now, did something happen?" Kelly gave a quiet laugh. Alex gasped.    "T-that's none of your business!" Alex averted his eyes shamefully. He wasn't just going to come out and admit to being involved in Aren and Tori getting injured the day before.    "You don't actually like putting on this 'tough guy' act do you?" Kelly smirked. Alex growled and tried to rush passed Kelly into the open area of the gym, when his phone went off again.    "GOD DAMNIT! What does 'he' want now?" Alex shuddered as he looked to his phone with a pained expression. After a moment his face relaxed. Kelly grinned as she looked over at the message displayed on the screen ["Sorry we couldn't hang out yesterday, clean up ran late again. You good for today after school?"] Kelly giggled deviously.    "Who is that?" she said playfully and leaned in close to his face.    "M-m-mind your own damn business!" Alex bared his fangs as his face flushed red. He pulled back and shoved his phone in his pocket without replying. "No one is supposed to like me! Just leave me alone!" he fought to remain composed and ran away. Kelly chuckled to herself and headed back to Skai.    "What did you do to him?" Jem clapped her hands as Kelly approached.    "He looked like he was gonna cry!" Mini howled and began laughing. Anya giggled softly, amused by their amazement.    "Nothing really..." She smiled innocently "That was all his doing."    "So?" Skai crossed his arms and tapped his foot impatiently.    "There's more happening then he's letting on BUT it sounded like someone else is calling the shots. Murasa is just the messenger." Kelly gave her summary of what she had witnessed. Skai closed his eyes pensively and adjusted his glasses while remaining silent. Jem and Mini slumped over dissatisfied at the idea of some higher power, stronger than even Alex.    "This sucks." Jem sulked.    "Yeah." Mini agreed.    "Is there more? You seem like you have more to say." Skai opened his eyes and assessed Kelly.    "Hm, pretty observant, Noriko san." Kelly grinned. Everyone perked up, paying close attention to her while faking participation. "It sounded like he was making plans to meet up with their boss after class today."    "Wha? How did you find that out?!" Mini gaped.    "SHH!" Skai shushed her and looked around making sure they hadn't drawn unwanted attention.    "I overheard him on the phone, after him and Akseli had their fight." Kelly stopped herself and decided to leave her personal opinions out. "We should have someone tail him and find out what we are really dealing with."    "But who? If they get caught, they'd have Murasa to deal with!" Anya voiced her concerns.    "Then they can't get caught, it's that simple." Skai scanned the room for their other companions. "Imani san and Evaline san are out for sure. There is no way to inform them in time, since they don't have our contact information yet."    "So one of us here?" Jem cocked her head to the side.    "Not you!" Skai barked before either of the twins volunteered themselves.    "Someone quiet yet capable, hmm?" Anya hummed to herself. "I don't like this..." The group simultaneously locked eyes on Sai and Tori together with Syrus.    "Arata!" Mini cheered and dashed off.    "H-hey! Don't leave me!" Jem followed. Skai rolled his eyes and walked after them with Anya and Kelly in tow. Syrus groaned once he noticed the girls sprinting at him.    "Arata! Arata!" they cheered in unison.    "Hm?" Sai eyed them curiously. The others caught up to them shortly after. Skai glared at the girls for the unnecessary outburst. "No need to worry Noriko, everyone expects it from them by now." Sai said flatly and motioned around to the masses of students, none of which even turned to look at the chaos Jem and Mini caused.    "Thanks?" Jem said questioningly.    "That wasn't a compliment." Skai chuckled to himself as they flailed around.    "What do you need?" Tori interjected. Anya ruffled her hair, hesitant to speak up.    "We have something for you to do, that is if you don't have plans for today." Kelly gave Anya a conceited grin.    "Hm..." Sai looked over to her vacantly. Skai explained everything they had come up with and the proposed pursuit of Alex.    "B-but Sai! You can't..." Tori objected.    "You are hurt, we can't ask you to go!" Skai averted his eyes contritely.    "I'll be fine, Tori." Sai patted him on the head. "If we figure out what they intend to do, we will be one step ahead of them before they strike."    "Don't do anything needlessly dangerous, Arata san." Skai gazed at her nervously. "I don't wish to see more of my friends get hurt."    "I'm perceptive enough to avoid conflict, I can do it." Sai asserted and nodded to Tori and Skai. Syrus and Sai shared a look in silence, then split up at the locker rooms. The girls changed quickly into their regular uniforms and readied to leave. Sai observed Kelly dubiously. "Can she tell that I left things out?" Arlin and Alex left the locker room together. The group watched as the two parted ways. Sai silently exchanged gestures with everyone and left with Tori as usual, making sure to stay out of sight.    "I guess we'll just have to wait and hear about it tomorrow." Anya straightened her posture. Kelly shrugged then the boys came out of their side. Kid dragged Skai and Syrus over to the girls.    "Awww! Where's Arata?" he pouted.    "They had to get home early." Jem smiled fakely.    "It is about to rain..." Skai announced and pointed towards the windows, darkened by the cloudy sky. "Let's not linger here."    "Well then, I'm off..." Syrus swung his bag around onto his back and turned to leave. "Gotta pick up my sister." Kelly averted her eyes regretfully. "I really should apologize..." Everyone went their separate ways to go home. Nicholas patiently waited for Kelly out front. She quickly got in and they drove off. A few minutes into their trip, rain began to fall from the sky.    "Huh, I can't believe he was right..." Kelly sighed to herself in slight amazement. Nicholas smiled as he soothing sound of the rain mixed with the hum of the engine. Awhile later, Kelly jolted up in her seat as she was about to doze off. A fair distance away, a person walked dejectedly in the rain. "That can't be...?” she sat up to get a better look. "Nicholas, go pick him up!" she leaned into the front seat to point at the kid.    "Yes, ma'am." he answered dutifully. As they approached the person, he turned to look at the oncoming car, his long, wet hair clung to his drenched jacket. Kelly rolled down her window as the car slowly crept along keeping to his pace.    "Hey, Kanamura! Get in!" Kelly poked her head out the window.    "Tsk...I'll pass." Syrus grumbled and walked faster.    "You are going to catch a cold, just get in!" Kelly barked back growing mildly annoyed with Syrus's obstinance. "We will take you to your house."    "Leave me alone, would you?" he rolled his eyes exasperatedly.    "Look, I want to talk...I have nothing planned today, so just get in already before I follow you to your house!" Kelly asserted. Syrus frowned and dropped his shoulders in defeat.    "Fine..." he came to a stop and Kelly opened the door, handing him a towel as he stepped in. Nicholas looked back to Syrus. He gave directions by pointing and the car began to move again.    "What happened to picking your sister up?" Kelly scanned the surrounding area, no one else was around.    "Got a ride with a friend, still had to drop off the numbers for Imani and Evaline..." he wrung his ponytail out with the towel and placed it under himself. "Is that really all you threatened to stalk me for?"    "W-what! No!" Kelly griped. "I wanted to properly apologize for our 'misunderstanding'."    "Rather eloquent way of saying 'When you called me a creep'." Syrus crossed his arms and legs then glanced out the window.    "Well...yeah, I was taken aback by the rather blunt way you approached me, I guess it was a force of habit. Sorry." Kelly looked over to Syrus, who was completely uninterested.    "So you're rude to everyone who talks to you like that? Hardly a reasonable reaction." he grumbled.    "I...yes, well I admit I was wrong, so stop avoiding me!" As Kelly spoke, Nicholas put up the screen between the front and back seats.    "I'm like that with everyone, there's nothing special about you..." Syrus said coldly.    "We are going to have to work together in the future, you could at least try to be more agreeable!" Kelly shifted, turning her body towards him.    "Agreeable?!" Syrus whipped around to look at her. "If its business, I do my part, outside of that I have no obligation to fraternize with anyone!" Syrus glared at her. "You clearly have the wrong idea about our 'relationship'!"    "Excuse you?!" Kelly growled. The car had passed into a fairly quaint residential area. The screen slid back down.    "Which way is your house, sir?" Nicholas looked back to Syrus, breaking the tension.    "Take a left here." he huffed. Nicholas followed Syrus's guidance as Kelly stewed in anger. "How dare he speak to me in such a way!" Syrus went back to watching the scenery as they sat in silence. As they reached another intersection, Syrus hailed to Nicholas. "Here." he gestured to the street beside them. "I'll walk from here." Kelly narrowed her eyes at Syrus.    "No...we will drop you off properly!" she insisted in aggravation. Syrus opened the door anyway.    "The rain has lightened up considerably, its fine!" he bowed his head to Nicholas. "Thank you for taking care of me." then stepped out of the car and started walking away.    "Well, Miss Kelly?" Nicholas turned to the exceedingly dissatisfied Kelly.    "Go home, I will call you when I need you." she ordered and stepped out of the car. Nicholas sighed to himself and drove off. "What do you have to hide, Kanamura?" Kelly followed behind him, careful not to be spotted. Syrus traversed a series of side streets then changed course. "Geez, he sure doesn't want me to find where he lives." Kelly crossed over the ditch, after letting Syrus pull ahead some. Once she made it through to the next street, she stopped. Syrus walked up to the front door of a decently large two story house. "T-that's surprising." He fiddled at the door for a moment, then it opened. Syrus gave a quick look around before walking in and closing the door behind him. "From the way he acts, I would have never expected him to line in such a nice house." His house was the largest one on the street. Kelly watch from across the street for some time before turning and walking away.