#many thoughts about her perception of him and her stubborn determination to really see the best in people

[chrisodonline]

Stray Thoughts on "Sleeping Dogs"

Or "Stray Dogs," if you will.

I had intended a few different posts, and while threatening promising to write up more about this Sunday's episode, I never really got to.

HOWEVER, I did want to just mention some random things, or things of note. Most of it good. Some of it, "Hmmm?" It wasn't an episode for everyone, as I've noted. But I've read far too many things that really just seemed like some people watched it and did everything they could to find things wrong with it. Now, more often than not, I know the exact reason why. It's cool if it's not your cup of tea, but trying to make it sound like it shouldn't be anybody else's cup of tea is just...calm down.

Yes, I was determined to enjoy this because this was one of the rarer birthday week episodes where there wasn't sparse Callen due to Pebble Beach scheduling. And I was not expecting the rich and joyous Sallen we got, but I loved it. One of the best gifts this week!

No one can ruin that opening banter scene for me. Sam's teasing. Callen's obliging him. And here's the other thing: Sam didn't tease Callen about the fact that he's doing whatever Anna is asking. Callen even tried to use the "We" pronoun. The only real joke Sam makes about Anna and the wedding is directed at Callen: Sam wants to warn Anna about what she's getting into. Sam doesn't agree with her taste (we'll get to that), but his jokes are not misogynistic nor do they show any real toxic masculinity. See, other shows (and, hell, even this one on more than one occasion), would mock Callen for being "whipped" when he really just wants to be married to this woman and will do whatever it takes to get her to that point. Callen's love language is acts, specifically acts of concession, which are even more significant when you consider the traits he's usually ascribed: loner, stubborn, individualistic, etc. There's an essay in there about how hard he's worked to earn that perception to keep people at bay, but we'll just move forward.

While the show as a whole creates jokes out of Anna's wedding planning, Sam doesn't go after her for being a bridezilla or crazy or ridiculous. He does not like that suit and has no reason to. But he doesn't say, "Your girl is crazy, G. Run." He says, "Please tell your lady this will not work on me, and I want to look my best when I'm roasting, er, toasting you." So, that's good. What's less good is the constant joke that is Anna's wedding planning and decisions that just aren't in character at all. I know I headcanoned and tried to make the wedding planner scene work, but I would've hoped she'd have stopped after that. But no. This is a problem. They worked really hard in her first two appearances this season to try and pretend like a lot of the issues they (the show) created with this relationship never really happened and that she has always been the girlfriend/love interest that other characters (like Sam) were used as mouthpieces to say she was. They made G and Anna have adult conversations that made sense, and they made them seem like a healthy couple you were like, "Oh, hey, I would've been rooting for this more and sooner."

And then the wedding stuff. I'm not going to say that the dragging of it it out is one-sided. Callen clearly is hesitant for Hetty-related reasons, but I think he is slowly letting himself realize maybe that's not the best thing. He outright said he just wanted to be married to Anna. I think he confuses even himself. Anna seemed, initially, more willing to move forward and more quickly. However, this constant changing or picking ridiculous approaches to the wedding ideas feels like nothing more than dragging something out or avoidance. Is she frustrated and trying not to let herself get frustrated by Callen's wishing to delay things, so she just keeps trying to fill time by making zanier decisions? Is that her way to try and incentivize Callen to hurry up and forget the Hetty Factor? Or is it more of her avoidance issue and not his? I've written pretty often about her tendency to run, even if she did the Hetty thing and always swore it was for reasons that were in his best interests. She would do things that made her really sus in the beginning: she showed interest then the minute he returned it, she ghosted him and mocked him about it in front of Sam. She tried to get away from the team on the motorcycle. She told him to tell the truth and then treated him like a jerk when she went to prison. But guess what? He still tended to her in the hospital. And then lying to him about where she was with the volunteer work, etc. etc. Again, she always said it was in his best interest, and boy has he heard that before...and been totally okay with it. The show has just botched things with patterns so many times, it's hard to write off these silly wedding planning jabs. So, there's my essay on that.

Back to highlights: The Castor thing and recurring joke? GOLD. GOLD. I will love it forever and ever. Callen's explanation for it made so much more sense than Sam's tux choice from Anna, and so the joke was more solid. I. was. howling. when Castor walked out for the visual gag. The fact that Castor's pride has taken a hit because of being disarmed and knocked out frequently, and Callen's noticing it and being willing to reach out, was the explanation? Perfect. It shows a guy having some self-esteem issues and another guy picking up on that without making it too awkward or sappy. Just...trying to make him feel like he's one of the guys, and it's all okay. Nothing to be ashamed about. This is the Callen who has made more and more efforts to not be such a lone wolf. We've seen it with Fatima, others, and he's just really been dropping his guard and taking his role as a mentor figure and respected leader more seriously. Growth. Growth with some jokes, yes, but growth. Again, Sam doesn't tease him about being kind or make fun of Castor for taking those "hits." He's just like, "I guess you have a new best friend now. Look at you." He plays off his fake jealousy and projects it onto Castor's potential jealousy. It's cute. It's banter. It's teasing. They are all still guys, and they do a lot of bonding this way. They're not always going to be This Is Us, and this is honestly more realistic.

Of course, poor Castor gets knocked out again. But, hey, Callen did, as well! So I bet he still feels okay. And Callen probably feels a little guilty. "Hey, this is my bad, Castor. Let me buy you a drink...after our sedatives wear off." Because this was a Bartels episode, and for some reason he's like, "Let's have the bad guy give Callen a sedative." It's a well he's gone to before, and now poor Castor has gotten dragged along for the ride. (I was, for a moment, really wondering if Callen was going to get abducted because we only have a few more eps left of the show, and that's right up there with explosions as being part of the show. Alas. Maybe his days of getting himself taken are truly behind him. Growth!)

The episode was paced just fine for me. I followed it all, actually! Whaaattt? I know. A bulleted list of things I liked, in which I try to avoid making this post even more of a novel:

The casting of the other subjects was pretty good.

There were some actual stakes and action scenes.

There were some actual twists. They didn't have to try and convince us a turn was serious with the ominous music cues.

Callen's admitting he may have let the guy get away because he wanted him to, so he could get Pembroke, pointed to a lot of the morally gray issues. It's complicated, and shows like this tend to take a very black and white approach. But the character of Callen has always lived more in the gray than the black or white.

Points to Chris O'D for somehow managing to deliver the line, "I'm Subject 17" without it being hokey: it is a fine line to hit with sounding serious but not overdoing the gravitas.

I'm still very annoyed with the Leah thing from last season because it was just such an OOC to do without more reasons or context -- or some explanation that it was a sign Callen was truly spiraling. However, at no point did he ever try to make an excuse for it in this episode. Now that I liked. When someone called him out for it, he never tried to say, "Ah, yeah...well, see..." He took it.

He was also not questioning the blame that he set Pembroke off...until he realized it didn't make sense with how things had happened. He would've been the first target, not the only one not on the list. And he was right to question that. Even if, by that point, his guilt about the whole Leah situation and her not believing him was probably what made him too trusting and took the guy to the hospital.

I also thought the other character scenes were good. They can never seem to make up their mind about the Admiral's characterization, but this ep had one for him that made sense and made him work. I will always <3 Shyla, and I am sad they didn't figure out how to bring her on sooner and more often. Fatima and Rountree (and their actors) have always had the unenviable tasks for trying to fill in so many different gaps -- from characters completely gone to characters having to appear and do less -- but they do it with smiles and eagerness. Bartels made sure there was some more depth for them here, too.

I won't even go into the whole Hetty thing. Y'all know how I feel on that. And what can I say that hasn't already been said? (Though that never seems to stop me, does it?)

[miswaken]

Eddie Rodman: Thanks for tuning in for the second part of our interview with Serena Valdivia and award-winning photographer Alice Wake. Now, Alice, we were talking about your husband, Alan Wake. Is that a sore subject for you?

Alice Wake: Well, a little bit. Of course it is. The way I see it, we had our good times and our bad times, and on the whole, we had a lot of good times. He really made me happy. I don't mind being reminded of him.

Eddie: So you're uh... you're over him?

Alice: I don't know if I'll ever be that, entirely. I still think about him every day, literally. I still find myself hoping for -- well, sometimes I think I see him just standing somewhere, watching me. I think most people who lose someone they love experience things like that. But on the whole, I'm doing alright. Two years is a long time to adjust, and I'm not really the type to wallow in the negative.

Eddie: Well, I know there are a lot of stories about Alan. He seemed to have something of a wild streak...

Serena Valdivia: Um, that's not really what our show is about, though...

Alice: Look, all that stuff really gets blown out of proportion. He had his problems, but... it's really frustrating for me, because people like to talk, they love to tell these crazy stories, and they never really knew him at all.

Eddie: Well, the character he created, Alex Casey, is a household name, the books continue to sell... there's been talks of a TV series, a movie, a video game... it must be nice to know that his work is still being appreciated by so many readers.

Alice: Yes, of course, but I don't really deal with the business side. I leave that to Alan's agent.

Eddie: That would be Barry Wheeler? Actually, I just interviewed him. He's currently in the music business...

Alice: Mm-hmm.

Eddie: And he's also Alan's best friend. Do you two keep in touch?

Alice: We talk regularly. Like I said, he handles the business side.

Serena: I think we should talk about her film.

Eddie: Yes, yes, of course, you're right. I'm Eddie Rodman, talking to Alice Wake and Serena Valdivia, and we'll be right back.

[mettywiththenotes]

I love how much Trope Bending happens in MHA! The Sports Festival is the best example of this; We'd expect Izuku to win every fight, Bakugo to ruthlessly destroy Ochako who starts crying at the first explosion, we'd expect the tournament to get interrupted and a winner is never declared. BUT NONE OF THAT HAPPENS! Ochako ALMOST WINS and Bakugo ACKNOWLEDGES HER AS A WORTHY OPPONENT BY USING HER NAME not a courtesy he gives Kirishima, Todoroki or Tokoyami, all people who are arguably stronger than Ochako! Izuku doesn't even get to the semi-finals! I loved the Sports Festival Arc and I love the tropes it broke.

It also means it's a lot less predictable to read in fanfics, too. So many MHA fanfics I read that cover the Sports Festival arc and are Canon Divergence will play it in so many unique ways! Sometimes Izuku wins, sometimes he forfeits in the first fight, sometimes Izuku helps someone else win, sometimes someone Quirkless wins or Hitoshi wins or Shouto wins or anything can happen! I love that too!

Yesss I loved it too. It was a really interesting arc specifically, I think, because you couldn't predict how things would go, especially with it being in the early chapters of the manga (not much of a rhythm or rhyme to something that's so fairly new)

I'm sure any other Shonen would have probably gotten Izuku all the way to the very end through Sheer Determination and have him either miraculously win the festival or lose at the last second or smthg (victory so close but lost so quickly)

But I really like that Izuku lost early, but not too early. Like, luck was on his side but you know what else? His brain! He's a smart kid and I think Hori used that well to show that he does have that advantage over people and can come up with alternatives or thought-out plans but Izuku isn't some like. Shonen Whiz who succeeds through determination alone. Kid succeeds but also messes up, sometimes because of that determination (recklessness)

I think the arc was one of those examples of Izuku constantly saying "I'm blessed, I'm lucky" and meaning it, because he did have that advantage of his friends and OFA but also had a blend of his own personality messing him up

About Bakugou, it's funny because the Sports Festival is actually when I started to like him! Before Shiggy got to the top of the list, Bakugou was my favourite and it was all because of how he was treated in the Sports Festival

You're right, we would expect him to be destructive, we would expect him to be unfair or smthg, behave like a selfish bully (like we thought he was before this arc), but the fact that this arc showed a side of Bakugou that we hadn't seen before - or at least wasn't made so clear to us before - was just so interesting to watch! To see him gain respect for Ochako, to see how he respected her stubbornness and her strategy, to use the battlefield against him - It just gave so much more of an insight into how Bakugou works and I love that so much

The best parts about the festival is that nothing went how we thought it would (even the whole thing with Shouto wasn't an I Hate You Dad Goodbye Forever, it was a I Need To Think About What I Want Now But I'm Not Leaving Just Yet, and that was also super interesting) and that's honestly so much more interesting than the standard of Everybody Succeeding Through Sheer Determination imo

Also that whole thing about the pros in the audience. I think that worked so well with 1) our initial perception that heroes are good and respectable and then being shown that, actually, they can be stupid af and uncaring too - which is also shown through Endeavor - and 2) how it challenges your perception again, that Bakugou is just a selfish horrible bully and so everything he does is Bad, but then Aizawa comes in, tells everyone the logic of the situation and to sit back down because the match is still going on

It definitely earns the title of a growth arc, one where it's not unquestionable victory, but a reminder that the kids are still, well, kids! And they will mess up and fail and learn and grow, and even if they succeed, the peak of it is not in some festival, but later, when they get more experience and train harder and become Heroes

I think one of the things bnha does well is that subversion. Like, there may be some things that are predictable, but the fact that some battles and arcs and plot lines aren't is what makes it interesting! If everything were to go exactly how we want it, complete victory and constant success, that'd be so boring to read. Sometimes, those twists are totally needed in order to bring out the gold in a story, and it's one of the reasons why so many people can add their own twist to their own fics I think - bnha has some predictable moments but it does hammer home that anything is possible! Which, you know, is kind of the point of the story anyway! And you can feel that! So it works well with whatever you can come up with

[doppel-drop-distance]

Doppel Spotlight: Giovanna

Surprise~!

I know, I know, about time, right? The hypothetical Soul Gem has broken, and the Doppel Spotlights are back from the dead! Er…temporarily, anyway. I can’t say for certain how many more of these I’m up to doing just yet. It’s a bit too early for me to make any big estimates or guarantees. But! This Doppel analysis has sat here unfinished for quite some time now! And you all have shown such lovely support that I couldn’t help but be excited looking at all this old material again. So as a gift to you all, let’s finally analyze the Doppel of our main protagonist, Iroha Tamaki!

This analysis will contain spoilers for all of Magia Record’s first arc! This does include anime-specific content, as I will be discussing certain scenes from Episodes 5 and 7! You have been warned!

Let’s dive in, shall we?

GIOVANNA

Doppel of Silence

Feature: Cuckoo

“The master of this emotion is aware of how pitiful her Doppel is and refuses to look at it. This Doppel wordlessly wraps around and strangles anything it doesn't want to hear as it continues its search for something to fill the hole in its heart. While it should be calling for someone, it is cowardly and afraid of acknowledging the reality it has concealed, and so it remains, silently covering its ears.”

It's been a while, so how about we start things off with a little refresher?

Both Giovanna and Campanella’s names are direct references to Night on the Galactic Railroad, a Japanese novel written by Kenji Miyazawa. In the story, a shy boy named Giovanni travels on a star-bound train with his close friend, Campanella. To keep things brief, I’ll leave most of the general plot details out. However, if you’d like a lengthier summary, I suggest reading the summary I provided in the previous Doppel Spotlight, which is linked here.

I should also mention I actually located an English-translated copy of Night on the Galactic Railroad! As a result, I can quote the story directly, although I cannot guarantee the accuracy of the translations or my own interpretations. Please keep that in mind as you read!

The opening scene of the novel establishes early on that Giovanni is a reserved, self-conscious boy. In class, he is certain he knows the answer to the teacher’s question. However, when called on, he doubts himself and stays silent, bringing upon the jeers of his classmates. Campanella, who also raised his hand for the question, willingly chooses not to answer, despite also knowing, in order to show some sympathy for the flustered Giovanni.

This opening scene is likely what is referenced in Giovanna’s nature as the Doppel of silence. Giovanni stays silent out of self-doubt, and as a result believes himself to be pathetic. Iroha also silences herself in her own way, being very passive, self-conscious, and reserved at the beginning of her story. And, true to that comparison, her Doppel’s reflections of insecurity make her feel pitiful, to the point where she refuses to look at it.

Giovanni’s character can also be representative of Iroha’s inner loneliness. With his mother sickly and his father out of the house, Giovanni is too occupied with taking jobs and caring for his family to have time to talk. More often, he is bullied by his peers. The only exception is with Campanella, who doesn’t bully him, and even sympathizes with him. As Giovanni and Campanella travel on the Galactic Railroad, Giovanni’s loneliness is at its clearest. Campanella begins talking to Kaoru, another passenger on the train, and Giovanni becomes morose with jealousy. See this quote here:

“Is there really nobody who will stick with me to the edges of the universe and beyond? Campanella just sits there jabbering away with that little girl, and it hurts me more than anybody knows.”

Iroha is also incredibly lonely, deep down. She lives on her own, with parents away on business trips. The anime implies she doesn’t have a lot of friends either, with her classmates talking behind her back instead. Worst of all, her sister, who she values more than anyone else, is completely absent, Iroha being the only one that remembers that she exists. Such relationships sound awfully lonely, don’t they? It’s only through her bond with Yachiyo and the rest of Mikazuki Villa that Iroha grows into her own, letting her optimism, warmth, and confidence shine through.

Giovanna’s connections to Giovanni tie her quite close to Campanella, Yachiyo’s Doppel. And, well, Yachiyo is certainly not the kind and sympathetic Campanella at first meet. Her first encounter with Iroha is cold, brutally honest, and fully intent on keeping Iroha out at any cost. We learn later on that this attitude is a wall Yachiyo puts up to protect people – that she believes the people that get close to her die, and that she still struggles with the guilt of her past. Yet, it is Iroha who shows sympathy to Yachiyo, breaking down that wall between them. For example, let’s take a look at Chapter Six. After a trip to the Memory Museum Uwasa, Yachiyo has been reminded of the death in her life and is reflexively closing herself off again to keep Iroha safe. Iroha once shriveled up in response to Yachiyo’s intimidating rejection, but now, as her friend, she isn’t having it. She says this:

“You saying there’s nothing you can do to help Tsuruno and the others… It makes me feel sad…Lonely…We fought together all this time…But more than that, I’m angry. I’m angry with you, Yachiyo...”

“I’m your friend, Yachiyo. And as your friend, I’m going to take out that Uwasa, all on my own! I’m going to be the one to protect you. I’ll smash this made-up idea you have of me sacrificing myself for you!”

Just as Giovanni interprets his journey with Campanella as a sign to stay diligent in life, Iroha’s friendship with Yachiyo allows her to steady her own resolve and fight adamantly. Their namesake connection is a sign of their bond, and their newfound devotion to fight together and protect each other.

To wrap up this Galactic Railroad talk, have you noticed that in many of the anime’s early episodes, Iroha is riding on a train? In fact, it is on a train that Iroha is whisked away to Zenobia’s Barrier in Kamihama, where she meets Yachiyo for the first time. Perhaps a stretch, but a fun little detail regardless.

Anyway, there’s far more to Giovanna than story connections! Giovanna’s silent nature reflects a lot of Iroha’s character struggles: mainly, her feelings of denial, and her inclination towards self-sacrifice.

“This Doppel wordlessly wraps around and strangles anything it doesn't want to hear as it continues its search for something to fill the hole in its heart. While it should be calling for someone, it is cowardly and afraid of acknowledging the reality it has concealed, and so it remains, silently covering its ears.”

When you think of someone “strangling anything it doesn’t want to hear”, concealing their own reality and being afraid of acknowledging it...well, that sounds a lot like someone who doesn’t want to accept the truth.

Iroha shows quite a bit of denial in her search for Ui. The odds are stacked against her for a lot of Arc 1. She finds little to no clues wherever she searches, and the Ui she encounters from the Uwasa of the Commoner’s Horse is only a fake. Iroha is certain that Touka and Nemu, Ui’s closest friends, will remember Ui. But, they do not, and only ridicule Iroha for her seemingly impossible set of memories. Throughout Chapter Ten she is belittled for sticking to her goals. She’s ensured on all fronts that Touka and Nemu aren’t believing her, and that there’s nothing she can do to change their minds. But, no matter how many times Iroha is told by the world that she’s believing in a lie, she never lets her belief go.

“I’m still going. No matter what you say. I’m bringing Ui back with me…She’s the whole reason I came back to Kamihama.”

This stubborn determination, when twisted by the corrupt perception of a Witch, is far more like paranoid desire: an aching, fearful need to find whatever is missing in her heart and get rid of whatever threatens it.

Following this, let’s talk about Giovanna’s feature: a cuckoo. Cuckoos are solitary birds, shy and secretive, and best known for their calls. Yet, Giovanna’s beak is tied up with cloth. She cannot call for anyone. Her journey to find Ui is painted as one of futility: Giovanna searches and searches for the one she’s longed for, but in the end, is too afraid to call out to her.

Here’s a fun detail, by the way:

In Episode 5, when Iroha summons her Doppel for the first time, Giovanna actually does not have bandages around her beak (which is why she’s able to let out that high-pitched shriek):

In future appearances, however, Giovanna does have the bandages around her beak.

Come to think of it, Giovanna looks rather... different in her first appearance, doesn’t she? Not only is her beak not bandaged, but her colors are a lot redder and more decayed, her cloak is worn and full of holes, and the crown around her head is gone. This may just be a stylistic choice for Iroha’s first Doppel, but I can’t help but wonder if it’s a sign for something else. Maybe that Giovanna is angry with the Commoner’s Horse Uwasa for projecting an illusion of Ui? Giovanna does fight a lot more aggressively here than in any other appearance, after all - she wraps the Uwasa up and drills into it with her beak. Meanwhile, in her second appearance, she only attacks an Uwasa with her bandages.

Giovanna’s unwillingness to call for others actually brings up an interesting facet of Iroha’s character: her sacrificial devotion. The reason that Iroha unleashes her Doppel in Episode 5 is because she neglects her own needs in favor of others. She believes that she must be strong on her own to find Ui, a thought reflected by her own Doppel’s words in Episode 7:

“Stronger…If you don’t become strong, you won’t be able to find anything! Cover your ears! Shut those eyes! Silence determines fate!”

When Iroha fails to find Ui within the Uwasa of the Commoner’s Horse, she is filled with despair. Ui was right before her eyes, proving the beliefs that even she may have begun to doubt. Yet, in that same instant she recognizes the Ui she sees is nothing but an illusion the Uwasa projected for her. So close, and yet so far. When Iroha begins to succumb to her despair, she even mentions that it might’ve been from the shock of not seeing Ui.

With all of these feelings, all of this disappointment and despair, who does Iroha use her only Grief Seed on? Yachiyo, of course. At this point in the story, Iroha wants to be friends with Yachiyo, but they are not seen as equals. She is not comfortable enough to open up to Yachiyo about her feelings, and neither is Yachiyo with her own. Yet, Iroha still sacrifices herself to keep Yachiyo from falling to despair. And by staying silent about her own woes, Iroha falls to her despair for the first time, summoning her Doppel.

Let’s keep this topic in mind and focus on something I haven’t addressed before: the Magia Archive artbook! There are some production notes in here that provide insights on the meaning and symbolism behind a Doppel. Unfortunately, I don’t know Japanese, but I did find a translation of Giovanna’s section, courtesy of @greenyvertekins. Here is a small piece from it that I would like to highlight:

“The motif is a bird flute and a saint with a rabbit-like appearance.”

The theme of a “saint” struck me as a little odd, at first. I wasn’t sure where I was supposed to get that idea from her design. But, it did lead me to a unique little find, which is probably a stretch, but maybe kind of cool anyway?

(credit to Silvermoon424 on Reddit for the scan!)

It’s a bit harder to see in the official art, but that crown circling Giovanna’s head – to me, it sort of looks like a crown of thorns. A crown of thorns is a very striking sign of self-sacrifice.

And sure, this is the stretchiest stretch that ever stretched, but those drop-like patterns on Giovanna’s body are red, and kind of look like drops of blood, right? Beads of blood that have also been associated with the crown of thorns, r-right? Right…?

Phew…I’ve been going on for a while, haven’t I? Is this…is this longer than the first one? I don’t even know anymore…Let’s silently wrap this up with one more, fun little stretch on my part.

Both cuckoos and bunnies, which are elements of Giovanna’s design, are symbolically representative of spring. Spring is cherry blossom season in Japan, and the Eternal Sakura Uwasa lives near a cherry blossom tree only said to bloom when Touka, Nemu, Ui and Iroha are united again. At the end of the event Cherry Blossom Dreams, the Eternal Sakura even remarks that “spring can finally begin” because they are all together. So, if you squint really hard, maaaaybe the springtime connections here are representative of Iroha, Touka, Nemu, and Ui’s union under the cherry blossom tree. But probably not. I’m just having some fun.

And, that’s it! That’s all I’ve got for Giovanna! Wow! That sure was something!

I hope you all enjoyed my silly little analysis! I know some of these connections are a bit loose, but I like drawing whatever parallels I can with what understanding I have, haha. It was great to write one of these again and share it with you all!

If you have any of your own thoughts, additions, or corrections, do send them along! I would love to hear other interpretations!

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

A Soft Postscript

Prompt: Ace Arthur, post Uther's death, murther coming out fluff? Bonus points for good Morgana supporting them. - anon

Read on Ao3 Part 1

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse, acephobic language

Pairings: qpr merthur and qpr morgwen

Word Count:  2600

Morgana did not survive Uther Pendragon by not being observant.

The man’s temper was on a hair-trigger more often than he’d like to admit and he could and would use any excuse he could find to further his agendas. Of course, he thought that he was being subtle more often than not, not realizing that those who had to spend more than ten minutes around him every day could read the micro-expressions on his face easier than the steward read the cost of keeping so many guards in the city.

 So yes, Morgana learned how to be very perceptive very quickly.

 Which meant several very interesting things when Arthur suddenly found himself with a manservant he didn’t know what to do with.

 Merlin, with all of his improper bluster, had decided to barge right through every social custom a servant might now and sit right next to Arthur, determined to be his friend. Arthur had grumbled and dragged his feet the way he does whenever something doesn’t go his way immediately but he finally seemed to have come up against someone who could match him in stubbornness. Apart from Morgana, that is.

 So yes, she can remember very clearly hiding smiles behind the rims of glasses as their relationship slowly moved from borderline hostile to grudging acceptance.

 Then, of course, there were the touches.

 Arthur is quite a tactile person, she’s come to learn over these many years. He slaps the knights on the shoulder, punches their arm, takes any excuse he can to toss them around a bit like sacks of meat. He’s not quite shoving any of them up against shelves—at least, not when he’s not angry. She’s had more than one, er, ‘curious gentleman’ attempt something only for her to whirl around, a barb ready on her tongue and see Arthur already hauling them off her.

 It’s one of the few times they’ll actually admit they care about each other, even if it’s not out loud.

 “Aww, I knew it, you do care about each other.”

 “Do you want me to keep telling you the story or not?”

 “Sorry, sorry. Keep going.”

 But the thing is that Arthur…really doesn’t do that much small touch. Sure, he’ll throw an arm around some shoulders, or playfully spar with the other knights, but, much like his father, Arthur has the subtlety of a crashing wagon.

 At least, Morgana thought so.

 The first time she sees it, she thinks it’s a mistake. A trick of the light. An accident.

 Because surely, surely there’s no way her brother, the embodiment of a chaotic hunting dog given human form, just brushed the back of Merlin’s hand with his.

 They’re in the courtyard, walking across the stone to go…somewhere, when Arthur takes half a step to his left, just enough so that when their arms swing as they walk, the back of his hand lightly brushes Merlin’s.

 She blames it on the angle, of not being able to see the rest of their bodies, and the way a cart comes conveniently in front of them so she can’t see what happens next. The incident gets pushed to the back of her mind.

 But then it happens again.

 They’re watching some tournament, one that Arthur can’t participate in because he’s already moved on to the next stage, so he’s in the stands with the others. Morgana looks over, Gwen’s hand in hers—

 “I thought we were going to get caught too.”

 “Oh, believe me, I was taking full advantage of the fact that Uther was not paying the slightest bit of attention to us.”

 “It was so cold that day too…”

 “…if you want me to hold your hand again, you can just ask.”

 “Why, thank you, My Lady.”

 “I’m not...you’re welcome.”

 —and has to hold in the noise of surprise when she sees how close the two of them are sitting. Now, yes, it was a tad chilly that day, but the two of them were practically in each other’s laps. She had to stare several moments longer just to differentiate whose legs were whose. She glances around quickly to make sure no one else has noticed her staring. No one has. When she looks back, she blinks a few times; maybe dust has gotten in her eyes from the brawl in the ring.

 Because it looks like Arthur’s holding Merlin’s hand too.

 She peers closer, tries to figure out whose sleeve is that color, why are neither of them wearing gloves, she and Gwen are wearing gloves because they’re smart, only to come to the stunning conclusion that Merlin and Arthur are holding hands.

 In public.

 “You make it sound so scandalous, Morgana.”

 “They were sitting right next to Uther Pendragon.”

 “Oh, alright, I suppose that is a bit scandalous. But you act like we weren’t doing it too!”

 “We’re women, it’s easier for us to get away with it.”

 “I suppose that’s true.”

 Well, if the way it kept happening was any indication, it was easy for Merlin and Arthur to get away with it too. Remember that comment about Arthur being as subtle as a crashing wagon? There was a running wager going about him having a mistress with how often the servants caught him smiling to himself or insisting that only Merlin be allowed into his chambers in the morning.

 Some of them—hello Leon—were clever enough to realize that the mistress was far more likely to be Merlin.

 Now, that’s not to say that Arthur doesn’t throw Merlin around as much as he does some of the other knights he’s close to. It’s quite common to see him drag Merlin around by the arm, or the wrist, or—a few times—wrestle him into his arms and bodily drag him somewhere. Morgana’s had more than a few cups of wine spilled because the two of them can’t seem to just talk and walk like normal people.

 But he doesn’t ruffle the hair of the other knights like he does Merlin’s. He doesn’t let their hands brush as he lets them go. And he definitely doesn’t cup the back of their necks with that much tenderness.

 One time Morgana has to physically get in the way of some of the Council members because Arthur insists on bumping their foreheads together in the middle of the hall.

 Honestly.

 But as much as she wants to roll her eyes, scold them for being so obvious, remark that they think they’re being secrets, she won’t.

 She knows why they’re not being even more open than they are.

 For one, the knights would talk. Not all of them are so…selective with which partners they seek, but nearly all of them frown upon being so open about it. There are exceptions.

 Leon, for one. But no one dares to challenge that man over anything. Good. They know better.

 Arthur has some degree of protection, but not if word gets to Uther.

And Merlin wouldn’t have any.

 Morgana knows better.

 So she watches them and hides her smiles, no matter how much she wishes they didn’t have to.

 “Is this…this was…”

 “Before Morgause?”

 “Yes.”

 “It was.”

 “I’m so sorry, Morgana, if I’d’ve known, I could’ve—“

 “No, Gwen. That wasn’t your fault. And she would’ve…I couldn’t bear it if you were hurt too.”

 “We’re safe now, Morgana. She’s gone. She can’t hurt you anymore.”

 “She can’t hurt you either. That’s my important to me.”

 “Well, you’re more important to me.”

 “Let’s be important to each other.”

 “I like that idea.”

 It’s a little easier now, if she’s being honest. Not just because the weight of Uther Pendragon isn’t hanging like a yoke on her shoulders anymore, but because she gets to see now.

 Guessing is one thing, putting the puzzle pieces together is one thing. But just seeing…that’s quite lovely.

 She gets to see the soft smile Arthur has for Merlin when he thinks Merlin isn’t looking. The way the corners of his eyes crinkle up. Merlin will turn around and Arthur will school his face into a frown, pretending to be angry that Merlin is doing something wrong, or isn’t doing something fast enough, or something else completely unbelievable.

 She gets to see the way the two of them never stray outside of arms’ reach from each other. The way Arthur will always look to find Merlin in a room first before starting to walk inside. Merlin will stay behind Arthur’s shoulder as long as he can, only moving aside when he has literally no other choice. In a world where proximity to the King is currency, Merlin is the richest man in Camelot.

 “Ooh, nice one.”

 “Thank you.”

 She gets to see the hidden acts of affection that everyone else either ignores or doesn’t notice. The soft brushing of hands. The lingering looks as they stand close to each other. The way Arthur’s hand finds its way absentmindedly to Merlin’s wrist as they talk, the way Merlin ducks into the touches as if he’s expecting them.

 It’s quite sweet, honestly, the way they move around each other now. It’s freeing, to see them be so openly affectionate.

 Another chain has fallen off of Camelot’s shoulders.

 Of course, not all of the nobles are as…chivalrous.

 “It’s an old tradition,” Haryard roars, his mug of ale splattering across the table, “surely the others here would agree with me!”

 “You’re drunk, old man.”

 “Drunk, perhaps, but correct!”

 Morgana rolls her eyes and shifts a little closer to Gwen. Loud men’s voices and alcohol were not a good mixture, even at the best of times. And the stuffy hall wasn’t doing any of them any favors. She can feel Arthur shifting uncomfortably next to her, Merlin’s presence over his shoulder not enough to keep the growing tension at bay.

 The knight is talking about a practice Camelot abandoned long ago. A frankly barbaric practice of servants being responsible for satisfying their lords in more ways than they do now. Morgana remembers yelling until her throat was sore once she learned about it, only to be joined by an equally angry Arthur when Uther had explained what it was more fully.

 It was the last time Uther made the mistake of angering both of his children simultaneously.

 The conversation shakes the four of them, enough so that when the feast concludes and everyone stumbles off to their bedchambers, the four of them end up in the middle of the royal chambers with goblets of water in their hands and distant gazes.

 Morgana’s hand is tightly around Gwen’s, Gwen’s head on her shoulder, their eyes closed. Distantly, she can hear Merlin puttering around, trying to keep his hands occupied.

 “Sit down, Merlin,” Arthur mumbles after a few minutes, “you’re not doing anything anyway.”

 “That’s not what you’ll be saying when you’re throwing boots at me and claiming I’m being lazy tomorrow.”

 A pause, where Arthur would normally toss another quip at him, only for a heavy sigh to permeate the air instead.

 “Just…come sit, Merlin.”

 Footsteps as Merlin does, the low scrape of a chair against the ground as he sits next to Arthur. The low whine of metal on wood as a goblet is picked up.

 “That…thing,” Merlin starts after a while, “that the knights were talking about. Did that…really happen?”

“Not while my father was king,” Arthur says firmly, “and not for many years before that.”

 “Oh.” A pause. “That’s good.”

 She hears Arthur’s low huff and can almost feel the way his gaze flicks to her. “‘Gana and I fought him about it. When we first found out what it was. We were—I think I was more horrified that my father didn’t seem to think too much of it than the fact that it happened.”

 “Well, yeah, but he wasn’t exactly known for his kindness, was he?”

 “No,” comes Arthur’s soft voice, “no, he wasn’t.”

 Another pause. Morgana starts to drift off, lulled by the soft breaths on her shoulder and the low hum of the night outside. Only to be roused slightly by another low murmur.

 “I never would’ve let you be my manservant,” Arthur says quietly, “if…if it were still around.”

 “...no?”

 “No. Never.” She can almost hear his glare. “I’d’ve fought my father in front of everyone.”

 “Not that I’m not worth that, or grateful—“ Arthur snorts— “but why? Couldn’t you have just…not had me satisfy those needs?”

 “That’s the worst question you’ve ever asked me.”

 “I’m trying not to vomit as well, believe me.”

“I’m surprised at you, I thought you’d—I dunno, throw that water over me.”

 “No, no, you prat, that’s your thing.”

 “I’ve never—oh.”

 “Yes, yes, you have.”

 “Alright, enough.”

 “As you command, sire.”

 “Merlin.”

 Morgana has to hide her snicker as the two of them banter back and forth for a little longer. Then Arthur stops, sighing again.

 “…I don’t…have those kinds of needs, Merlin.”

 “Hmm?”

 “The…the kind that you—forget it.”

 “No, no, I didn’t mean to do that.” A shuffle as Merlin puts down the goblet. “What were you saying?”

 A pause. “I don’t have those kinds of needs.”

 A longer pause. “You don’t?”

 “No. Kept waiting for…something to happen. Never did.” A sniff. “Go on.”

 “Go on what?”

 “Laugh at me.”

 “Arthur, I’d never laugh at you for that.”

 “Why not?” Morgana’s hand tenses out of sight at the tone of his voice. “Everyone else has.”

 Yes, and then they got reminded that their urges were only useful if they had the parts to back it up.

 “Who laughed at you?”

 “What?”

 “Who laughed at you,” Merlin growls and ooh, she needs to give him her list of names if Arthur won’t, “where are they?”

 “Easy,” Arthur laughs, though he can hear how relieved he is, “they won’t do it again.”

 “Damn right they won’t.” Another pause, during which Morgana has to strain to hear anything, before Merlin clears his throat. “I, uh…don’t either.”

 “Don’t what?”

 “Have those needs either.”

 Oh.

 Oh.

 Oh, these two idiots.

 “Really?”

 “Yeah, really.”

 And Morgana can’t resist the urge to crack one eye open, only to catch sight of the sappiest smile she’s ever seen.

 It’s late, the light from the courtyard only shining through the bottom third of the window. The curtains aren’t drawn, the candles are flickering in the corners. Arthur is staring at Merlin like he’s hung the moon in the sky, the corner of his mouth tugged up before it covers his whole face. Merlin stares back at him, his smile softer, more encouraging, and he reaches out to cover Arthur’s hand with his.

 Morgana is suddenly struck with the realization that she could be anyone, do anything, and they wouldn’t look away from each other.

 “I still can’t believe you didn’t wake me up,” Gwen huffs, bumping their shoulders together. “I wanted to see!”

 “Oh, please, at this point you’ve seen much more than I.”

 “Morgana…”

 Morgana glances up and a smirk spreads across her face. “Look.”

 Gwen follows her gaze across the field to see Arthur and Merlin still arguing playfully. Her eyebrows raise.

 “That’s what they looked like,” Morgana says softly, “just the two of them in their own little world.”

 Gwen looks at them a moment longer, then turns her attention back to Morgana.

 “Does that mean we can stay in ours too?”

 Morgana smiles. “For as long as you like, my darling.”

[ancientevangelions]

Asuka Langley Soryu

Asuka Langley Soryu is my favourite character. I find people that watch the English dub especially seem to get this thought in their heads that she's mean, a jerk, cruel and unkind and just overall unlikeable. People tend to bash her and ignore her positive traits or that she has a lot of varying qualities.

Lemmie sit you down and tell you why I love this girl.

She is smart, independent and beautiful

14 years old and a college graduate, she is super smart. She is "I've already graduated high school because it's easy" smart. She only has trouble with kanji because she's not Japanese. She's German/American, being bilingual in two very unrelated languages is hard. The fact that she doesn't do well in a Japanese High school after graduating college in Germany is kind of a given seeing she doesn't see much point to repeating what she already knows.

She is fiercely independent and doesn't take crap from anyone. Yes her catchphrase is basically berating you for being an idiot. But she does so when Shinji is usually poising a dumb question or the situation is frustrating. She doesn't put up with crap like being insulted or getting jerked around. She's the opposite of Rei who takes everything without a word.

She's flawed

Despite trauma she is functioning really well. Her father abandoned her for her mother's nurse and wasn't there for Asuka or her mother. He barely counts as a parent considering her Guardian was Kaji and all she gets is phone calls from a step-mom who has admitting she is scared of Asuka.

Her mother committed suicide and tried to kill her as well. Asuka was replaced by a doll and her mom killed that doll. That kid may be messed up and stubborn, arrogant and determined to live alone but can you blame her when everyone she's loved has betrayed her?

Her pride makes her so much more real. Her struggle to be the best and be recognised despite the fact that it contradicts everything she says she wants is what makes her so realistic and awesome.

Pride

Asuka is something of a perfectionist, I can really relate to this sickness and I can explain why she spirals the way she does. Imagine you are really great at something; drawing, writing, school, something you've worked hard at and excel in. That is Asuka and piloting Eva. She has done it since she was a child; she has worked hard to become an expert in combat. Rei has a very low synch ratio and Shinji is new to the scene. For her Shinji overtaking her is unthinkable, he's clumsy, inexperienced and lacks confidence. Yet he begins to do better than her as Yui defeats the Angels. This combined with his apparent rejection of her spirals Asuka out of control. She wants to be loved and noticed. Even though she says Kaji is the only man for her she peruses Shinji but neither knows how to properly show their feelings or display this emotion in a healthy way. Shinji's rejection of the kiss (by not reacting) causes her distress and the fact he never responds to her flirting further complicates things. Asuka responds by lashing out instead of trying to win him over with charm. She also doesn't know how to embrace that she is attracted to someone who isn't her ideal of strength. She wants her life to reflect a certain idealistic reality and that’s just not going to happen. You can’t pick who you fall for but she’s certainly going to deny it.

Asuka is a lot kinder than anyone gives her credit for

She and the other pilots get Misato to take them out for Ramen instead of putting her in debt over meat. She protects Shinji with her unit 02 while fighting the spider Angel.  Asuka helps Shinji with his homework, she listens to Hikari talk about her crush on Toji and despite her dislike for Toji she supports Hikari. She’s fairly perceptive and understands other people's feelings. She also initially tries to make friends with Rei, which Rei quickly rejetcs.

Condemning her for her actions after her mental breakdown is unfair and unwise.

But what about how she’s always looking for attention/ showing off

Do you remember what it was like to be a teenager? Trying to get attention and approval is pretty much a stable of everyone’s life, especially teenagers who have so many hormones running amuck.Like I mentioned before she is looking to be loved and accepted and to her the best way to gain approval is through the EVA. Save the world and everyone has to love you right? I mean how better to gain the love and admiration of everyone.  

That girl is pretty fantastic and honestly as a viewer cut her a break and try to see things from the characters perspectives. You just might learn something ;D  

[electronicgrowth]

Can’t Get Enough Part 5

Billie has lost her virginity! Where is this relationship headed? 

This has just been chilling in drafts... I forgot I was a person there for a moment. I apologize.

Summary: The two most stubborn people in Knockemstiff, Ohio have eyes for only each other. Lee Bodecker is determined to become the town’s next sheriff. He knows that image is everything. Billie Dechswaan doesn’t care about her image at all. All she wants is to leave Knockemstiff and never come back. But Lee has other plans for her. Both are far too stubborn to give up their own plans. What happens when they can’t get enough of each other?

Word Count: 2.3k

After losing her virginity, Billie can’t get enough of Lee. When he’s inside her, she promises him all the things he wants. But they fight about her wanting leave. She’s still adamant about moving away, despite her attack. Lee tries desperately to reason with her. But she won’t hear it. Lee feels his time running out as the days in June and July come and go. He makes the decision for them one day. He pokes holes in every single condom. He feels slightly guilty, but Bille needs to realizes how much she needs him. 

All the arguing comes to a head one night in mid-August. Billie snuck out like she did most nights and met up with Lee. She quickly slide into the car and kissed him. It was a Wednesday night and they hadn’t seen each other since the church service on Sunday. Billie had spent most of the time between services chatting with Lee, instead of helping to serve luncheon, and this behavior was not missed by the church ladies. 

Rumors were flying. Everyone was wondering when Lee would finally make Billie his wife. Many were saying that it was bound to happen before the next election. She’d be sherif’s wife by Christmas, the gossip said. Edna, the police station secretary made the mistake of asking Lee and relaying all the gossip. It got him thinking. He was going to broach the idea with Billie. He had to. He already had a ring anyway. 

Before Lee could even start the car and drive away. Billie was kissing his neck. 

“Did you miss me, baby?” He teased. Pulling her closer to him. 

“I always miss you,” she scoffed, straddling his hips. 

“I missed you too,” he murmured against her lips. She ran her tongue against his. 

“You know,” he began, pulling back from the kiss, “You don’t have to miss me.” 

“What do you mean?” Billie giggled, staring at him, “I always miss you when you’re not around.” 

“I mean, you could miss me less,” Lee said. Billie’s smile dropped a bit. 

“What are talking about, honey?” She asked. 

“If we live together, we would see each other everyday. Wake up together, go to bed together,” he hummed, kissing her neck between each phrase. 

“Lee,” she scolded, pulling away from him. 

“Come on baby,” he huffed, “Be mine. Be mine forever. And don’t give me that whole song and dance about leaving. You want to be with me and I want to be with you. I could give you everything. Just let me.” 

“We’ve talked about this, I want to be independent for a while,” Billie grumbled. 

“Billie, come on. We’ve been together practically everyday for months. Why do you have to independent? You want to get married and have kids right?” He asked. 

“Of course, I do. But—“

“No. No buts. If you’re planning to have kids, you won’t be working that long anyway. So, pick the right man to have kids with. Pick me, baby,” Lee implored. Billie stared at him and slipped off his lap. 

“I was up front with you Lee. I told you I was going to leave and go to college. You knew that going in. I should go,” she whispered. Climbing out of the car. Lee ground his teeth before he got out of the car. 

“Billie,” he yelled, “get back here.” He stalked after her angrily. 

“Lee,” she sighed, turning to face him, “I can’t do this tonight. I can’t have this argument again.”

He gripped the tops of her arms, “What is it? Why won’t you marry me? Is there something I’m not doing? Are you embarrassed of me?”

“What?” She spat, “Of course not. You’re everything I want—“

“Then what is it? I love you, dammit,” he shouted. 

“Look, let’s just take a pause. We can talk tomorrow. We’re both upset,” she placated. 

“Fine,” he huffed, stalking back to his car and driving off before Billie had even reached the woods. Wheels spitting gravel, engine revving loudly as he drove away. Billie felt empty. What had she done? 

The next day the county fair started. It was the event of the summer. Everyone was there. And Billie was avoiding Lee after their fight the day before. But he spots her. She evades him all night. He finally corners her outside one of the livestock barns. 

“What is with you? You said we’d talk today and you’re fucking ignoring me,” He spat, shoving her against the barn and caging her in. Billie refuses to meet his gaze. Tears quickly well up and spill down her cheeks. 

“Baby,” he hums gently, “What’s wrong.” His hands move up to cup her face and his thumbs wipe the tears away. 

“Not here,” she shakes her head, “Let’s go for a drive.” 

“Alright,” Lee murmured. They walk silently to the cruiser and Lee drove a couple of miles down the road before he pulls off onto a side road. It’s not really a road, more like a trail in the woods that farmers use in the spring and summer as a short cut. 

Billie has tears running down her face. 

“Talk to me,” he begged. 

“I’m late,” she sobbed. It took Lee a few moments to catch on.

“Your period?”

“Yeah, I’m three weeks late. I thought it was just stress or something,” she cried, her voice breaking. 

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” he soothed, “I’ll take care of ya.” Lee’s heart is beating out of his chest with excitement, but he schools his features and voice to one of concern and anxiousness in order not to tip Billie off. 

“What are we gonna do?” She’s fully panicked now. Lee can hear that she’s nearly hyperventilating. 

“Shh, baby. You need to breathe, okay?” He said as he grabbed her face and forced her to look at him. She nodded slowly, breathing in and out steadily before Lee spoke again. 

“We have to tell your parents,” he began. Billie’s eyes grew comically large, she started to protest but Lee cut her off. 

“We’ll tell your parents. We’ll get married and no one will be the wiser. It’s okay,” he soothed, “I’ll be with you when you tell your parents. I promise I’ll take care of you.” His eyes shone with sincerity. 

“What… what if I’m not ready?” 

“You are. You’re perfect. Gonna take such good care of me and our baby,” Lee hummed as he kissed her. 

“Lee,” she protested. 

“Come on, sugar. You’ll be my good little housewife. I can’t wait to see you get round with my baby. You’re gonna look so sexy,” Lee groaned, he kissed from her lips to her neck as he spoke, “You’re all mine.” 

“Did you— did you plan this?” Billie asked, shoving him away. Lee narrowed his eyes at her. 

“It doesn’t matter how it happened. What’s done is done and you need me Billie,” he growled. Billie opened her mouth but no words came out. She was stunned. She shook her head back and forth, as she searched for the words. 

“You’re a bastard, Lee.” His jaw clicked from side to side when she said that. Without saying anything he started the car and drove. Billie didn’t question him on where they’re going. She knew she was in deep shit. It’s only when she sees the farmhouse come into view that she starts to panic. 

“No.”

“We’re telling your parents tonight.” 

“Lee, please don’t do this,” she begged. But he didn’t listen. 

“I wanted to be nice. I wanted to wait until after we got married. But you. You just couldn’t accept the nice future I had planned out for ya. So, if you want me to be the bastard, I will be. I’ll get you pregnant. Make you marry me.” He cut the engine and walked up to the house. Billie trudged behind him, she had no other choice. 

Lee knocked at the before Billie even reached him. Joy answered. 

“Deputy Bodecker,” she smiled, “To what do we owe the pleasure?” 

“Billie and I have something to tell you,” he said happily. What a master of disguise he was. He made Billie believe, really believe that he loved her and cared for her. But he showed his true colors the second she stopped listening to him. And now he’s wooing her mother. Making her believe he’s a nice, stand-up guy. Joy’s smile faltered when she realized the Billie was with Lee, but she let them both in all the same. Lee marched to the living room as if he owned the place. 

“John,” Joy called, “Lee and Billie want to talk to us.” John huffed, but turned the tv off. He gestured for Lee to sit. 

“Clara, why don’t you go upstairs,” Joy suggested. Clara was the only one of the children home. All the others were still at the fair. She nodded and walked away. Joy sat down, but Billie didn’t. 

“Honey,” Lee chuckled, “Come sit down.” She slowly went and sat by Lee. He was quick to wrap an arm around her. 

“She’s nervous,” he said, smile glued to his handsome face. 

“What’s going on?” John growled at Lee. 

“Billie is pregnant,” Lee responded. Joy gasped. John looked like a deer caught in headlights. Billie started crying again, and leaned forward to hide her face in her hands. Lee patted her back. 

“But, I don’t want ya’ll to worry,” Lee continued, “I’ll do right by her. I care for your daughter very much. We’re going to get married.” 

John harrumphed, “You can take her down to the courthouse tomorrow for all I care. I thought you knew better than to open your legs, girl. I know you’re mama taught you better than that.” 

“John,” Joy attempted to placate, “Let’s not be unkind. Lee is going to make this right.” 

“I don’t care if he can make it right. Your daughter is out there acting like a whore,” John roared standing up from his armchair. He crossed the room and slapped Billie across the face. 

“You have one week to get her out of my house,” John said to Lee, who looked up John and scowled. Billie couldn’t take one more minute, she jumped up and ran upstairs just as Sylvia walked through the door. If Sylvia was one thing, it was perceptive. She took one look at her father and Lee and chased after her sister. 

“Now get out of my house, Bodecker,” Lee narrowed his eyes, but obliged. He would make John pay for hitting Billie. 

Sylvia found Billie crying in a little ball on the floor. 

“What happened?” She asked her sister. 

“Lee g-got me pregnant and n-now I have to get married and I’m going to be stuck here in this stupid town forever,” Billie sobbed. 

“Shit,” Sylvia sighed. Clara crawled off of her bed to join her sisters on the floor, she squeezed Billie’s hand. She wasn’t one for talking, she wasn’t good at it. 

“I thought he loved me. But he manipulated me. I think he did it on purpose,” Billie choked through tears. 

Sylvia stood up and started pacing. 

“How much money you got?” She asked. 

“About $250,” Billie answered. 

“I got about $50 left over from babysitting. And I want you to take that,” Sylvia ordered. 

“I can’t take your money, Sylvie.” 

“Yes you can. Take it. Run away. Start over.” 

“I—I—I h—have t-t-ten dollars for you, Billie,” Clara spoke. 

“Take our money and go,” Sylvia said, “Consider it a thank you for all the years you took care of us.” 

“Are you sure?” Billie looked between her two sisters. Both nodded. 

“You have to go tonight. Go to the bus station and get out now,” Sylvia started to scheme. The girls helped Billie pack two bags that night. They rounded up and pooled their money. And at eleven that night, Billie snuck out and walked the three miles to the bus station. She waited until five in the morning and bought the first bus out to Cincinnati. But she didn’t stop there. From there she took another bus to New York. She figured she could disappear into the crowd there. She could say that her husband died and that she had no family left. She could get a job waitressing. Or maybe she could train as a secretary. It didn’t matter because she felt free. 

After two weeks in the city, she wrote her family and Lee a letter. She claimed that she wasn’t pregnant. That the stress from telling them and leaving town caused her to miscarry. She said that she couldn’t face any of them now. But that it didn’t diminish her love. She refused to come home. Billie did not include a return of address. She secretly sent Sylvia another letter at her boyfriends house. It included her phone number. Sylvia would call her once a month from a payphone and then from the phone at the local grocery store she worked at. The girls stayed in touch that way. Sylvia secretly relayed the information to Clara and when Joy got suspicious, to her too. 

Lee was distraught. He’d lost the love of his life and his baby in a matter of moments. He shouldn’t have made her tell her parents like that. But he couldn’t focus on it too long, because he was soon elected sheriff. He was married to the job. Then he started getting into business with the wrong people. Those terrible men he worked with gave him an idea. An awful idea. He wanted revenge against John and he would get it. 

@greeneyedblondie44

@bxnnywriting

[neurodihuegent]

turning thirteen

a birthday fic for the three birthday boys <3

Characters: Huey Duck, Dewey Duck, Louie Duck, minor mentions of other characters

Words: 2285

Summary: April 15, 2021: The day of Huey, Dewey and Louie's thirteenth birthday.

(text under read more)

Today, Huey is 13.

He didn't really feel different. Whenever his birthday rolled around, he was excited that he was getting older, but stopped anticipating a major difference between the day before his birthday and the day of.

Turning 13 made him reflect a lot: He was finally a teenager. He'd be around that age to move up to seventh grade in a public school, except he hasn't gone to public school in three years.

These past three years, his entire perception of his family, his core beliefs, his own self, had completely flipped.

His entire life, he grew up only knowing his brothers and his Uncle Donald as his family, and he knew that Uncle Scrooge existed, but never pieced the connection until the day they met. But now, it seemed like everyday, he was finding out about a new family member and Webby's elaborate family tree was enough to give him a headache.

Ever since he joined the Junior Woodchucks back when he was seven, he seemed almost physically incapable of functioning without a Junior Woodchuck Guidebook at his disposal. He personally didn't see an issue with it as it gave him the knowledge he needed to maneuver through everyday life, especially living with a constantly adventuring and danger facing family, but he also knew that he started to become co-dependent on it even though he had more than enough knowledge now to function on his own two feet. It wasn't easy, and the book is still a huge source of comfort to him, but now he's able to distance himself from his book in times where he needs to think on his feet rather than waste time flipping through the pages of the book, waiting for an answer.

Not to mention, his final encounter kind of tainted his view of the Junior Woodchucks: He knew that Isabella Finch and the Junior Woodchucks by extension had little to nothing to do with Bradford's plans, but her insistance on bringing him to adventure is the trigger that put him and all of his loved ones in danger in the first place. The Junior Woodchucks always had a special place in his heart, and he was eagerly awaiting the day for him to give a second attempt at becoming a fellow Senior Woodchuck with Violet, but he also found himself becoming less and less excited with all of the Junior Woodchuck activities he participated in following that day. It pained him, really.

Then, his anger: This was something he never thought he would've addressed again following that one day, just mere weeks before they met Uncle Scrooge for the first time.

Uncle Donald and his brothers were always aware of his anger, but they never knew the full extent of it until that day. Whenever Huey even got the slightest bit angry, he felt himself losing his grip of control on any situation, and there was nothing scarier to him than not being in control and being able to work his way out of something with a clear mind: So he chose to hide it. He chose to bottle it up inside, no matter how much it physically drained him or how overwhelming it became, it was the only alternative in his mind.

But then he spent that day in Swanstantine with Lena, trying to concoct ways to combat Steelbeak, and he had to come to terms that tapping into his anger was the only way to get a favorable resolution on their side. So he did that: He became one with the alter ego he created in his mind to shove his anger to the further depths of his brain, one that was dubbed "The Duke of Making a Mess" thanks to Dewey trying to make light of that one time he blew up in front of his brothers and Uncle Donald, and he.... controlled it. He didn't let the unhinged nature of this anger consume him, and he was actually able to create an equilibrium between the personality he was okay with people seeing, and the personality he was more insecure about than anything. And he'd be forever grateful to Lena for that.

He grew one inch in height, not that it held any significance considering Dewey grew two inches. As long as he was still taller than Louie, who didn't seem to have grown through any significant change of height, he'd come to terms with Dewey being the tallest.

Today, Huey turned 13, and the more he thought about it, he definitely wasn't the same person he was around this time last year. Physically, he didn't feel any different, but mentally, he definitely grew from the person he was the day Uncle Donald dropped him and his brothers off at Uncle Scrooge's doorstep. And maybe that was a good enough reason to celebrate.

--

Today, Dewey is 13.

Dewey counted down the days until he would turn 13 ever since he learned how to count past ten. It was a huge milestone to him, as he was finally a teenager. But now that the day was here, it felt a bit underwhelming. Maybe he expected too much for the first day, but he didn't feel any different than how he felt the night before when he was still twelve.

He remembered he left an envelope stashed in his pillowcase, one that was designated to be opened only on his thirteenth birthday that he had written when he was nine. He scrambled through his pillowcase, praying that it hadn't slipped out and gotten lost, until his hand made contact with a piece of paper. Dewey didn't have the best memory, so he honestly had not idea what to expect when opening this letter.

He unfolded the top part of the letter, revealing the title "Dewey's To-Dew List By 13".

He fully opened the letter, and found himself tearing up when he read the first, and only thing on the checklist:

1.) Find my mom!

Growing up, his brothers were often under the impression that Della had passed away and Uncle Donald just didn't like talking about it, but Dewey always had a feeling that it wasn't the full truth. He came up with plenty of crazy conspiracies, such as her getting kidnapped by the government and kept under protection in Area 51, but all of them were somewhat comforting to him: It was better than believing that the mother you always wanted to know, was long gone.

But then his mom came back, and all of these years of having doubts and questions were subsided. He loved having his mom around, especially with how they seemed to click with each other almost instantly, and if it weren't for her influence, he never would've discovered that he enjoyed piloting as much as he did.

When the mom he spents years wondering about, and a year searching for came back, he should've felt satisfied then and there: Except he didn't.

Uncle Donald always made it blatantly clear that he loved all three of the boys the same, and would stand by them no matter what, but sometimes that reassurance wasn't enough for Dewey. He wasn't Huey, who had so many accolades under his name only by the age of ten, and he wasn't Louie, who had a personality that could charm an entire crowd of people. He was Dewey, and it took a long time for him to come to terms with that.

It took a while, but Dewey had realized that he was special, in a way that was unique to his brothers. When it came to adventures, sometimes Huey would get too caught up in trying to calculate the perfect plan, and Louie would get caught up in his anxiety, but Dewey always liked to face things head on. Maybe it wasn't the best tactic, but it was one that earned him the title of "tougher than the toughies" for a reason. His overflowing confidence in nearly all ways of life, was something that both of his brothers lacked in different ways, and that's what helped him stand out rather than blend in as "the third one".

Dewey held the letter close to his heart, reminiscing on the kid he used to be. His confidence never faded away no matter how he aged, it was a staple of his personality for as long as he remembered, and one that he cherished the most.

Today, Dewey turned 13, and he knew he was the same person: his stubborn mind and determined heart remained the same. Yet, something felt different. When he was nine years old, he never could've imagined this life for himself, especially in regards to his mom. But now, even though he'd never admit it, he could actually rest with some peace at mind: That he was good enough, that he shined in his own way, and that he had a support system that truly loved him.

---

Today, Louie is 13.

Out of his brothers, Louie would argue that he cared about this day the least. It was just another day in his mind. Sure, it was fun celebrating his birthday with his family, especially with Webby and Launchpad around who always made sure that the triplets had the funnest day possible, even if that day ended up a bit hectic.

Louie didn't see the hype with getting older: Sure, now he was less than three years away from being able to get a license, and then five years away from being a legal adult, but those were still years: Not days, not weeks, not months, years.

If you told Louie that this was what his life would be like when he turned ten, he'd straight up laugh in your face. In these past three years, he went from being a casual supporter of the Richest Duck in the World, to one of the nephews of the Richest Duck in the World. He went from only ever having Huey and Dewey as brothers, to having Webby, who was more like a sister than a cousin, and May and June by extension. He went from only ever having one parental figure, which was Uncle Donald, to having his mother who he was sure was dead, come back into his life and play an active role in it. Louie wouldn't admit it outloud, but the way his life shifted from a boring one living at the Marina with his brothers and his Uncle, to living in a Mansion with an extended family where all they do is get themselves in and out of trouble, was really exciting to him. It's something he never would've thougnt he'd have.

Especially when his mom came back. They started off on a terrible footing, with Louie being hesitant to become comfortable around her to the fallout they had over Louie and the tub time machine, which as time went on he started to realize more and more where he went wrong, and because of that, there was always an awkward tension between them. Even after all of the hugs, kisses and apologies, Louie could always tell Della felt like she had to be cautious around him. So for the first time since they first became introduced to each other, Louie took the initiative when it came to bonding with his mother: He figured they wouldn't bond over hobbies despite them being the sharpest minds in the family minus Scrooge, so he pushed for them to bond through just talking with each other, which proved to work through time.

Sure, sometimes the conversations would get dark, with Della hinting at the trauma she's obviously dealing with even now that she's been home for two years, and Louie countering her with talking about the toll adventuring has taken on him for a while. It was very rare that those conversations would actually end in tears, but they were conversations that helped Louie unload his emotional baggage of three years that sometimes he felt he couldn't even go to Huey or Dewey about: and it felt nice.

Louie would be lying if he said he didn't learn a lot about himself, because he did.

Money never came easy for Uncle Donald and the nephews.

Louie wouldn't admit this outloud, but he often admired how much Uncle Donald often put on the line just to make sure the triplets had a bed to sleep on at night. Sometimes, when Louie was younger he would sneak out to the kitchen, and get a peak on Uncle Donald panicking about whatever new bill was due that he inevitably couldn't afford at the time.

It was an image Louie could never forget.

When he came here, he was an emotionally reserved ten year old whose only sight of future, was becoming rich after only ever knowing a life of poverty and having to move almost every other month because of eviction notices. But even that sight of becoming rich became skewed due to his original lack of work ethic, seeing as it led him to end up being on watch lists in 49 different states.

But now, he was 13 years old, shadowing Scrooge on his business ventures, studying up on law, being an active participant in adventures, and letting the family he often pushed away, come in to his bubble. He was sure that the ten year old Louie that stood at Scrooge's doorstep that day, would be disgusted by the hardwork he put into everything he did now, but also proud that he was able to make it this far.

"Happy birthday, guys." Louie murmured as he slid out from the bottom bunk, getting ready for the day inevitably crazy day that was ahead.

[alotsgonnachange]

Fan apprentice Bios

for the alotsgonnachange/the arcana cinematic universe that eye personally believe to be better than the original game...

Name: Isabella Ciccino

Meaning: Promise of God

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Height: 5′10

Birthday: October 28th

Star sign: Scorpio

MBTI: ISFJ-T

Patron Arcana: Justice

Sexuality: Lesbian

Favorite Food: Lemon chicken orzo

Drink: White wine (Vinho Verde)

Magical abilities: Plant care/recognition (green witch), Foraging

Ethnicity: A small rocky/mediterranean esque island off the coast of Venterre that would strongly resemble sicily and malta.

Family: Mother, Angela Ciccino (deceased). Younger sister, Annamaria Ciccino (deceased)

Backstory: WIP

Occupation: Seamstress/tailor

Hobbies: Ballet, reading, drinking wine, dancing, tending to plants

Familiar: None (for now i guess??)

Love Interest: Nadia

Description: Isabella is a mysterious and alluring magician. To most people she is kind and charming, but private. She is incredibly helpful and caring to those she is friends with and cares about and will drop what she’s doing to assist. Likes to do quiet introspective work like reading, sewing, knitting and caring for plants. She’s a bit of a homebody in that sense. She comes across as level-headed and assertive in formal settings and does not allow others to talk down to her. With friends, she is a bit more sassy and teasing. She hates answering personal questions and has strict boundaries, which can lead to her being standoffish and stubborn at times.

As a Love Interest: Very loyal and committed, generally very gentle towards whoever she is seeing. You are going to have to get her to open the fuck up though she’s not good at being vulnerable AT ALL. The type of gf who may or may not qualify as a therapist/mother which…yikes. needs to work through her fear of intimacy before she can have a healthy relationship awwww 5/10

___

Name: Danielle Dupont

Meaning: God is my judge

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Height: 5′6

Birthday: September 7th

Star sign: Virgo

MBTI: ENFP-A

Patron Arcana: The Sun

Sexuality: Bi

Favorite food: Pain au Chocolat (Chocolatine for my canadians…)

Favorite drink: Espresso or a good wheaty ale

Magical Abilities: Sexual magic, chemistry/potionmaking, candle magic, topical balms/solutions

Ethnicity: Whatever the Arcana equivalent is of like. Western Europe germanic? A country including but not limited to Germany, France, Belgium, Luxembourg, Switzerland. Who cares really she is white and an Orphan

Family: Orphan!

Backstory: WIP

Occupation: Shop owner who sells potions, balms, candles and various other uhhh items usually of the purpose of sex (literally think a modern day sex shop with dildos and shit but also candles and skincare too)

Hobbies: Socializing, singing, making/testing potions, foraging, baking

Familiar: None, is in fact frightened of several animals due to trauma :(

Love interest: Lucio (Her taste is questionable and that’s okay!), also portia

Description: Danielle is a cunning and animated witch. She’s outgoing, bright and carries herself with confidence. In the past this has made her friends and enemies alike. She’s charming but can be a bit of a trickster. Her demeanor is generally calm and she does not often experience strong anger. She’s very smart and dedicated to her craft, and she is a perfectionist. As a worker, she gives excellent customer service and is a good saleswoman. To her friends, she’s teasing and wild, but loving and encouraging. On her worst days, she has the potential to be a bit more inconsiderate and is not the best at handling huge displays of emotions from others.

As a Love Interest: Girlllll…. first of all she needs to stop being emotionally stunted! My good sis cannot handle open displays of emotion at all and tends to shut down! The physical aspects are all there and excellent and she is going to be sweet, caring and loving but she needs to take things more seriously and be able to talk about feelings!!! 3/10

____

Name: Jia Song

Meaning: In korean it’s “clear” or “good”

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/her

Height: 5’5”

Birthday: August 5th

Star sign: Leo

MBTI: ENFJ-A

Sexuality: Bi

Favorite Food: Pulled pork or a good seasoned steak

Drink: limeade

Magical Abilities: Potions/herbs and healing

Ethnicity: Her father is from the same country as Ki (in a modern AU, this would be like. Korea.) and her mother is from somewhere uhhhh near nopal or something. Warm tropical nice (in a modern au this would be Brazil), but she grew up in her mother's country.

Family: I don't currently have names but basically, her father, mother, aunt (deceased) and two younger brothers.

Backstory: will be linked coming soon

Occupation: Healer, researcher, linguist

Hobbies: Dancing, reading, adventuring

Familiar: None

Love Interest: Julian

Description: Jia is a bright and curious magician. She’s a bit nerdy and loves reading/learning new disciplines. She is an energetic and altruistic person who is liked by many. She comes off as kind and forthcoming. She is very helpful and if she can’t help directly she will find someone who can with her connections. To her friends, she is loyal and sweet and affectionate, but also has the potential to be grumpy and even a bit negative. She’s very determined in hard situations and won’t back down until things are made right. Despite this, she can potentially overthink and overestimate situations and is incredibly stubborn when she wants to be.

As a romantic partner: loving, but definitely also able to keep independence. Not necessarily a stage 5 clinger but somewhere in the middle. She will love just spending lots of time with a partner and just picking their brain and learning everything she can from them. The type to brag about them to her friends. A wonderful listener but give her a chance to speak too she likes talking a lot as well! 10/10 would recommend

____

Name: Ki (Kiyoung) Kim

Meaning: Debatable but Ki alone means arisen and i’m getting “Vigor and eternal” But i think names differ based on the characters u use i am not korean so take this with a grain of salt

Gender: Nonbinary i think...

Pronouns: He/him or they/them doesn't have a preference

Height: 5′8″ Short king

Birthday: February 27th

Star sign: Pisces

MBTI: INFP-T

Sexuality: Gay

Favorite food: Budae Jjigae or Yongeun jorim

Favorite drink: any alcoholic beverage where you can’t taste the alcohol and strawberry milk

Magical Ability: Divination and mediumship (idk what the proper term is) so he can communicate with spirits/the dead

Ethnicity: Think of a small nation veeeery far away from Vesuvia that's cold for a lot of the year (for reference, think Korea).

Family: a twin sister named Jiyoung, 3 older sisters (Jiwoo, Jeongyeon, Joonhwa), mother and father and paternal grandfather and maternal grandmother who are living.

Backstory: will be linked coming soon

Occupation: Musician - mostly guitar and piano. Enjoys instrument care, arranging and performing in large ensembles, not a soloist by any means. He’s a great singer but he’s shy and singing gives him anxiety

Hobbies: Playing guitar, composing/arranging, reading, writing, shopping

Familiar: a tiny white dragon named Egg. Idc if dragons exist in this world but i feel like they HAVE to..

Love Interest: Asra

Description: Ki is a perceptive and witty magician. To most he comes off as a bit anxious and shy, which he is. Once you get past that, he’s eager, forthcoming and empathetic. He is very kind and likes to believe people have good intentions. He is very helpful and always tries to make sure others are comfortable and happy. He enjoys music and learning musical instruments. He prefers to work more in the background so as to not draw attention to himself. With his friends, he’s actually very talkative, silly and goofy. He’s prone to anxiety and may tense up or feel attacked when put into frightening situations. Unfortunately he has self destructive tendencies and low self esteem and has a hard time due to that.

As a Love Interest: perfect little s/o shut the FUCK UP…. that is if u can deal with low self esteem and anxiety! He really really tries though! He’s also shy with physical affection but will warm up to it eventually with familiarity and trust. Very doting and randomly shows up with delicious food and takes care of u when ur sick. 8/10

____

Name: Mathilde “Tilly” LaRue

Meaning: Mighty In Battle? Lol

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/her

Height: 5’11

Birthday: January 16

Star Sign: Capricorn

MBTI: INTP-A

Sexuality: Bi

Favorite Food: Lentil soup

Drink: Black coffee

Magical Abilities: Divination, telekinesis, herbs, defensive magic

Ethnicity: From a large urban area with a large population somewhere in an area a bit cooler and rainier than Vesuvia. (think like. England)(in a modern AU think Afro-caribbean)

Family: Mother and Mother and an older sister named Topaz

Backstory: will be linked coming soon

Occupation: Court Magician (but like simply a well rounded witch who goes wherever the money is)

Hobbies: Exploring, foraging, reading

Familiar: A white ferret named Elle

Love Interest: Muriel

Description: Mathilde is a gentle and thoughtful magician. She is soft-spoken and hates raising her voice, and is often making bizarre and thought provoking side comments in most situations. She is curious and intuitive when it comes to magic and often able to use several methods to predict the future for others. She carries herself in a dreamlike/contemplative manner and does not really care what others think - She’s off in her own world. With friends, she has a good source of humor and gives good advice and is a very good listener. She has an affinity for animals and nature, and would generally prefer to be outside. She can tend to be unrealistic and naive and loses hold on her emotions in tough situations (angry crier…) and feels misunderstood by those around her.

As a love interest: Downright adorable. Sweet, will bring you cool items she found and very endearing. She’s also encouraging and surprisingly cheesy. Not outwardly clingy but if you let her she will. but good fucking luck starting to date her! She is extremely pretty and gets asked out almost every day, turning down 99.999999% of applicants because other people do not particularly interest her and her taste is insanely picky! 10/10 but FAT CHANCE

[yukipri]

On Koala and Fishman Karate - a One Piece Mermaid AU Story

Not an ask response, but here with another story which was posted last month on Patreon!

I never actually intended on writing this, because this was originally supposed to just be exposition leading up to Marco's Bauble 2, and kinda explaining why Luffy's being tutored in Fishman Karate. But, it ended up being too long and going off on WAY too many unrelated tangents, so I chopped it off and made it its own thing ^ ^;

Mostly introspective, with Koala x Luffy, mention of Sabo x Luffy, and some thoughts on Nami from Koala's perspective as well.

~~

~~

Koala gently nudges Luffy's hand a little higher, and the mermaid makes a tiny whine of frustration as she sways on her tail, trying her best to maintain the posture she's been taught. Luffy glares at her own fist with such adorable determined ferocity that Koala doesn't have the heart to tell her that she doesn't need to try so hard, and that if anything, staying relaxed is the point.

Koala's been trying to teach Luffy Fishman Karate during the few lulls between their adventures. She knows that the disciplined martial art is probably not Luffy's style, but Fishman Karate focusses fishmen and merfolks' innate sensitivity to water. It's honed for combat in this case, but it can be applied to daily life as well, which is why fishman karate is a regular part of grade school curriculum on Fishman Isand. When one lives surrounded entirely by water, ten thousand meters below sea level, it's remarkably beneficial to be in tune with it.

Even if Luffy never fully masters it, Koala's sure she can gain something of value to apply to her regular fighting style, and even if not, it's part of her heritage. It's why Koala had insisted on teaching her, and Sabo had grudgingly agreed (Koala knows the grudging part mostly comes from Sabo still being petty about being terrible at it himself. Which, shouldn't come as a surprise since fishmen arts are difficult for non fishmen and merfolk, but it gives Koala something to rub in his face, which is always wonderful).

It's nice, Koala thinks as she sings praises in Luffy's ear while fixing her posture once again. It's nice because even though Koala'll do any assignment thrown her way, and will do anything to further her primary goal of achieving justice for fishmen and merfolk, being an assistant Fishman Karate instructor is her actual formal position in the Revolutionary Army. It's so easy to forget, with the number of missions she's been on with her acting support for Sabo and others, and the increasing amount of time she spends away from Baltigo and her students. But suddenly, she's given an unexpected opportunity to actually practice and share her passion, and to someone who could really benefit from it too. It would be an utter waste for Luffy to not learn from Koala while they travel together.

(Even if it means Sabo sulks and stews with pathetically transparent jealousy over losing sibling bonding time. He can deal. He'll have plenty of time later.)

And well, Luffy's honestly a joy as a student too. Even if explanations mostly go over her head, she's got amazing physical intuition and picks things up fast. And she's so dedicated, staring at Koala with wide eyes like she holds the secrets to the universe when Koala shows her something new, always blurting out her awe exactly as she feels it and--it's endearing.

Luffy, everything about her, is honestly endearing.

The fishman karate tutoring sessions are honestly the only times Koala can have alone with the mermaid (or as alone as one can be, on the deck of a small vessel like Merry), especially without Mr. Nosy Possessive Big Bro butting in between them. So yes, maybe Koala enjoys spending time with Luffy for reasons other than just getting to do karate together, but she'll confess that to Sabo over her own dead body.

Not that Koala thinks it really matters; Sabo's already giving her the Suspicious Stink Eye (though to be fair, he gives that to everyone other than Ace). And yeah, in hindsight she honestly should have expected his suspicion, given how well her partner knows knows her dating history.

I'm warning you, Koala, Sabo'd grouched when they were alone, dropping his Cool Big Bro act to reveal the Shitty Little Dumpster Brat that Koala knows and grew up with. Don't even think about it with Luffy. Even if she's infinitely cuter than what were their names...Marinara and Cartwheels.

Their names were Marina and Kara. And I don't date every mermaid I meet!

Koala's honestly offended, but decides to let it go; Sabo's overwhelmed by his sudden wave of previously repressed Brotherly Love, and he's still not entirely rational (not that rational's a particularly good word to apply to him at any time). And she doesn't have a thing for fishgals and mermaids, she swears. She just happens to spend a disproportionate amount of time working with them, given her specific focus in the Revolutionary Army. It just makes sense.

Or fine, maybe she has a slight thing for them. And, well, maybe Luffy's her type. Just a little bit. On top of being, well, a super cute pupil. But Koala's not going to do anything, other than enjoy spending time together! Is she not allowed even that?

But, the point is, Sabo's being ridiculous! Koala's been his partner for years! Doesn't he trust Koala enough to know that she'd treasure Luffy, in the very hypothetical situation they ever dated?

(Koala knows the answer to that, knew it the moment she saw Sabo's expression melt as he cupped Luffy's face, and sighs. She never imagined she'd be love rivals against Sabo of all people, but well, shit happens.)

Anyway, Fishman Karate times are Koala's times with Luffy, and if Sabo comes poking his snooty little nose into their sessions, well, Koala's happy to volunteer him as a punching bag. Which he knows, hence why he's not here.

In fact, the deck is mostly empty, the other members of their limited crew occupying themselves elsewhere. Their sole observer is the navigator, sitting by the rail and marking up some maps, seemingly not paying attention.

But Koala knows that Nami's very much attuned to their lesson, her head jerking every time a particularly hard smack lands.

Koala doesn't blame her. She's aware of what Arlong did, had had to swallow bile when she accessed the full report when it came through, days before their fateful meeting with Luffy and the ASL pirates. She knows what Nami must think of fishmen, and to know that her impression came from former Sun Pirates leaves Koala feeling a special kind of numb.

Because that isn't what they're like at all, she wants to say. The Sun Pirates, to Koala, are a gleaming example of why fishmen deserve better, and are victims of human prejudice and ignorance. It's terrible that they mean the opposite to Nami. But given her experiences, Koala knows she has no right to preach at her. If anything, she just feels sad, and bitter, knowing that the cycle of hatred can come back to hurt those so very far away from where it started.

Koala guides Luffy's arms into position again, and despite Luffy struggling to remember everything mentally, the young mermaid's body easily accepts the form. It's an art designed for her kind after all, unlike the marine martial arts that Sabo said their grandfather had beaten into them. Koala's sure Luffy struggled with those, unable to fully copy moves that require certain feet positions, and an assumption of a more human perception of the world. But this, Fishman Karate, was made for her.

Nami twitches again, and Koala makes a note of it. She knows Nami has likely seen the form before; there were several martial artists in Arlong's group.

She knows it's difficult to watch, but admires Nami's stubborn determination in doing so. Koala's sure that part of Nami's reason for watching is to make sure Koala doesn't teach anything unsavory to Luffy, and she respects that wariness, because they haven't known each other long enough for Nami to open up to Koala and her history of friendship with fishmen.

But, and it's only a guess, but Koala thinks Nami also watches to try to learn and accept this part of her captain as well. Koala might not be important, but Luffy is the captain Nami's pledged to follow, for all that Ace is also her captain. And whether she likes it or not, Luffy's a mermaid, which, while not the exact same as fishmen, has plenty of things in common.

Now that she's no longer isolated on an island in East Blue, heading closer to Fishman Island which they'll inevitably have to cross in order to enter the New World, Luffy's learning more about herself. Specifically, the mer part of herself. And she'd be doing that, regardless of whether Koala's there to help her along.

Koala thinks it wise that Nami's forcing herself to learn alongside Luffy, so that there are no surprises, and that one day, she doesn't wake up and realize that her captain shares far too much with her tormentors for her to handle. Koala hopes that Nami's love and acceptance for Luffy will plant a seed of hope that eventually helps her accept other fishmen and merfolk, to see that they're not all Arlong--but Koala can wait.

~~

~~

Thanks so much for reading if you got through this~! <3 As always any comments/thoughts are super appreciated!

❀ ❀ Send YukiPri an Ask! ❀ ❀

~This ask has been added to the Mermaid AU Text Headcanons Compilation post~

[gyromitra-esculenta]

Something Ends, Something Begins chapter 6/7 - still ‘Bad Witcher AU’. The song at the end is Quedate Aqui from Desperado.

Warnings: none (unless you count friendly ribbing and name-calling, weasels (one particular weasel), some saucy wording, and erotic food. kind of.)

*

The table is set, the white cloth covering it embroidered with shapes of flowers and animals stitched in vibrant colors, each corner adorned by a form of a stag raising on its hind legs with its head bowed, ready to fall with the full weight of its body on a contender. Rabbits and foxes - not one alike any other found on the fabric - peek from behind the green grasses and the bushes full of red and black berries. The smell of burning fat and caramelized sugar grows stronger as Mojmira pours another cup of rowanberry wine on the roast.

Jack tries to slink by Lila unnoticed but she still catches him by his ear as he passes, the disapproving twist of her lips never budging from its place.

"It is your brother's hair-cutting, and you're shirking your responsibilities. Go, help your sister."

"Yes, mother," Jack answers. He reflexively massages his ear for a bit before approaching Mojmira, who gives up her place by the spit to him with hushed words that put blush on his cheeks. He swats at her, and she ducks away with a giggle and a poke of her elbow to his side.

Gabriel, well aware it is his turn to hear admonishments, brings his attention back to Lila and her stern gaze even if his eyes want to linger on Jack for a moment longer.

"Witcher," she acknowledges him with a curt nod, "did you find what you were looking for?"

Did he? Gabriel observes Jack turning the spit, his face and neck still reddish, focused ostensibly on his task, but the half-smile and the twist of his hips tell a whole other story. Lord Murders-A-Lot sits perched on his shoulder with its nose scrunching as it scents the air.

Further in the back, in the shade of a plum tree, Sombra, with the lute hanging off her shoulder, talks with Adan. He postures - does he bark up a wrong tree, for in this one a cat that cares not for the dogs sleeps  - and futilely tries to stay his eyes from her barely fastened shirt.

"I found a thing I never knew to look for."

Lila nods again, the incline of her chin still sharp - but deeper - the rings in her hair tinkle against one another with the movement.

"Take good care of him, witcher. There might not be another one of my son's ilk left in this world."

"You knew?"

"The babe slept dead in my womb only to wake up." Lila twines her fingers together over her stomach. "When he opened his eyes, I saw a boy I'd seen once before, when my mother brought me along to the village's alderman to see about the tylwyth foundlings."

Gabriel remembers it, Jack's small arms wrapped around him, chin propped on his shoulder, and the woman, her rich brown hair freely slipping from behind her back as she leaned down to speak in a language he was yet to learn, with a girl child at her side holding nervously her flowing skirts. Soon after, they were both handed off to the witchers regardless of Jack's promises of the village taking in the cubs even as strange as Gabriel. In retrospection, Jack was the stranger one, with eyes too blue and the complexion that knew no sun. A changeling, if there ever was one.

"And will you give him up to me, just like that?"

Lila scoffs, her lips quirking up almost imperceptibly as she regards him silently, enjoying his jest.

"He isn't mine to give, witcher, no more than the wind swaying the wheat or the songbird's trill."

It is true Jack belongs only to himself - there is no power in the world to force him to do naught but what he wants as long as he is what he is - and it is this fickle nature Gabriel had once dreaded, for no reason other but his own concern.

"He isn't yours to give, but mine to take."

Lila smiles, her forehead bowed; under the lashes, her dark eyes seem so much older, like they'd seen the world turn whichever way one too many a time.

The eyes of a sorceress.

Gabriel glances to the forest. No wonder she and hers were spared from the scourings.

"Come, witcher, sit, for today is the time of revelry, and you are our honored guest," Lila directs him to the table with a motion of her hand, turning already as if she considers their chat finished. Gabriel nods. The contract has been fulfilled. The fate won't be denied.

Sombra slipping into place by his side disperses those thoughts.

"Melitele's nips, am I hungry," she mutters and stretches vicariously before she switches her attention from the table to him, fingers idly tracing the line of her collarbone. "You look younger."

"I feel older."

"You're just tired."

"I don't tire," Gabriel counters, but Sombra smirks and pats her chest above her heart.

"You're as stubborn as I am, but take it from someone with more experience than you, just let yourself feel, let him take care of you."

"Like Amelie had of you?" The bait is tempered by the name, one of the many small concessions Gabriel made over the years, and the lines of Sombra's face soften into a shy expression of contentment.

"Yes."

"Have you...?"

"He's been... most accommodating."

Gabriel merely nods, his attention stolen for a moment by the commotion Jack and Mojmira make, both laughing as they try to take the roast off the spit while struggling to keep it in one piece, broken up only by Lila showing up to help.

"How is she?" He acquiesces, finally.

"Better than ever." Sombra quietens, an unguarded smile flickers across her lips. "Thank you. For asking."

They spend minutes in shared silence, neither wanting to break the moment of understanding - the interruption comes from Wrenund's booming laughter from the inside of the house. The man himself appears in the doorframe shortly after, leading Nielub in front of him with his hand on the boy's shoulder; they're both dressed in festive linen shirts bleached impossibly white, with cuffs and collars embroidered with red thread in a simple pattern. Gabriel finds he can't not smile at the boy's almost unrestrained energy, his wide eyes shining with excitement while he struggles to act solemn even if the day is one of celebration.

"Should I be the good godmother,” Sombra whispers, “or the spurned sorceress?"

"The versemonger.”

"Ah, so be it." She braces her elbow on Gabriel's shoulder and leans against his side. They both watch Nielub sit on the prepared stool - his legs bounce up and down, and he grips the wood of the seat hard enough for the color to leave his fingers. Wernund looks to his wife, who now stands together with Mojmira a few steps away. She nods, and Adan brings forward a jug of water, Jack walks behind him with shears in his hands.

"Nielub, my son, today, you become a man." Wernund gently tilts the boy's head back. With barely a trickle of water, he soaks Nielub's hair through and slicks them to his head before exchanging the jug for the shears. The sound of metal grazing on metal and hair being cut fills the sudden silence even the birds don't dare to disrupt. In the fields, cicadas sing.

Each lock shorn, a piece of childhood shed for the new responsibilities. Wernund works with gravity and care - and when he's finished, and Jack retrieves the shears, he stands in front of his son, urging him to stand up too.

"Today, you leave your child name behind. It has served its purpose and protected you. From now on, you are Woj, and you will be as strong as your name, you will be strong for your family, and no evil will ever best you."

Nielub - now Woj - smiles wide and throws his hands around Wernund's waist in an exuberant hug.

Jack thrusts the shears at Adan while giving him a determined look; Adan accepts them, rolls his eyes at Jack's back as he retreats towards the table in a hurry. Lila and Mojmira both take their turn to hold Woj close for a fleeting moment, whisper secret silent words to him.

This time, Gabriel's medallion stirs under the cloth of his shirt, the movement barely perceptible, but it's there: a relief, grounding him in the feeling of reality, the last vestiges of doubt dissipating like tendrils of morning mist blown away by the noonday breeze. Sombra notices, too, her face lighting up with well-hidden interest, and her arm shifting against his side - until the short reverie is broken by Jack planting the whole roast on a wooden board in the middle of the table before he unceremoniously forces himself between them.

Living. Breathing. Moving not unlike a drop of quicksilver in a juggled vial.

"Away with your bony elbows, ungulate," Sombra chastises him as she makes space. "One could cut jewels on your hips."

"I'm still growing!"

"The wrong way around."

"The right way," Jack pouts. His arm sneaks around Gabriel's neck, palm hanging loosely over his shoulder, fingertips brushing against the fabric. Gabriel covers Jack's hand with his own, his thumb pressing slow circles into warm skin. "You just wait, I'll show you."

"Surely, I am scared out of my wits."

"Of course, you are, you third-rate lute-ruining bard. After all, I am me," Jack pulls her close with his other hand and presses a heartfelt kiss to her temple, at which she laughs, pushing him jokingly away.

"Piss off, ungulate," Sombra murmurs with no malice, "or I'll have you stuffed and mounted.”

"The horror. Just promise you won't be fucking anyone on my back, I've heard stories, you know."

"Melitele's holy teats!" Sombra moans, looking to the sky, and Jack, taking the advantage of her indignation, turns to Gabriel to sneak a quick chaste kiss to his lips.

Gabriel smiles against his mouth, the whispered 'later, little cub' coiling warmly behind his ribs even as Jack backs off slightly, eyes cast down but not really, not a shy or proper bone in his body, nor in the toothy grin languishing on his face.

"So, who's hungry?"

In an answer, Gabriel's stomach rumbles with anticipation.

"Shouldn't we wait...?"

But Jack is up and hunched over the table with the knife in his hand, fingers pressing down on the roast as he masterfully carves out thick slices of the meat bleeding sweet-smelling juices. Just in time, too, for the whole family to approach - Woj led to the seat of honor at the head of the table, Wernund at his right and Lila on his left - Adan and Mojmira bring the bread and the wine before settling down, her giggling and him merely rolling his eyes in kind. They scuffle for a moment under the table, Mojmira emerging with a triumphant smirk and Adan giving up with a pained hiss, his palms raised in an admission of defeat - yet he still gives Jack a knowing look before Lord Murders-A-Lot scurries up the tablecloth to chitter at him. Almost swatted away in return, the weasel runs into Jack's waiting palm, and then up the length of his arm, to perch on Jack's shoulder shortly before it settles pressed against his neck.

"You dare to raise a hand to my cherished retainer?" Jack mock-challenges Adan.

"'Tis a foul beast you entertain at your court," Adan plays along, eyes narrowed with a smirk. "Good the vatt'ghern has arrived to slay the bloodthirsty creature."

"Only if you have the coin, good sir, half upfront." Gabriel chuckles, and Jack collapses into a fit of giggles. Mojmira shushes them and pointedly looks to the head of the table.

Woj, with his father's guidance, picks a loaf of bread and breaks it in half. The first piece he offers to Wernund, the other to Lila; repeats until every guest at the table has their own piece of bread.

"I'm hungry!" He declares with unbidden enthusiasm - Adan toasts to it with his cup and a holler of 'hear, hear'. Gabriel hardly notices the meat making its way to his bowl in the sudden boom of liveliness - Jack and Sombra argue loudly over some insignificant trifle. Adan takes sides and Mojmira laughs unbidden before dishing out a scathing remark Sombra takes with no grace whatsoever, sputtering and tongue-tied for once - but that might be the doing of Mojmira’s bodice inconspicuously slipping lower.

Life goes on, regardless.

"Little cub," Jack draws his attention with a whisper, his eyes almost black in the most human way, cheeks flush with rowanberry wine as are his lips - a droplet of it in the corner of his mouth; Gabriel wonders if it would be sweeter if tasted in a kiss, almost succumbs. Jack presses a cut morsel into his mouth; fingers brush against his teeth and tongue, slip out and trace his jaw, stop at his neck, press on the pulse of his heart in a deliberate caress. "Eat. And drink. You are a guest at my feast, too, cub."

Gabriel chews on the meat, slowly. The roast is surprisingly succulent, meat aged even if the game was caught yesterday, with a hint of bitterness broken by the juices, and chased by the tang of the wine.

"Good," Jack murmurs and offers another bite with his fingers.

The conversations flow around them as if no-one takes notice, Jack's eyes imperceptibly darker - a shadow clinging to his irises - his smile light and possessive, like nature reclaiming the once carved out of it domicile, embracing it back after the time of long separation. Which is, probably, the truth of it, on some level of an abstract interpretation. Gabriel does not mind, for it is the way Jack is and loves - and he wouldn't have it any other way, not since the moment he had asked a god to step out of his forest domain, foolish as he was then.

Banishing the traitorous doubting thoughts, he settles into the quiet comfort of being cared for, unfamiliar and foreign after being denied it for years. They will be back, he knows, the whispers of disbelief questioning his own sanity - but for now, Jack straddles his lap. And the wine Gabriel was right about. It is sweeter when drunk from the offered lips, the taste of it mingling with the living chaos.

Before she disappears from their side, Sombra glances fondly at him over Jack's shoulder. A shape of a magic-wrought creature hovers above her stretched-out palm. The light weaves into a dragonlike form that takes flight as soon as it's finished - joined soon by others of its ilk in a slow dance.

Woj chases after the illusions with laughter, enchanted both by the show and the wine flushing his face with a blush. Sombra smiles as she joins him in the play. A moment later, horseback knights woven with magic enter the fray.

Jack untangles his fingers from Gabriel's hair and slips into space she's left behind - his palm still rests on Gabriel's thigh, light and warm - and rejoins the conversation as if he's never abandoned it. Gabriel lets it flow around him, sipping on his drink. The sun starts to dip and the boy, tired out by the playtime, naps with his head on his mother's breast. Jack gives up his seat to Sombra and her lute, a fleeting touch sliding down Gabriel's back before he leaves.

Mojmira and Adan light the torches, Jack brings cold fish in a still crisp batter and, somehow, more of the wine. Gabriel wonders if Lila brews that much of it - or is it only for the festivities - or maybe there is an else thing afoot, and if Sombra might glean the secret to it.

The first notes of the lute sound over the cicada song that grows steadily in volume.

Jack unceremoniously deposits himself sideways in Gabriel's lap, with a full cup in his hand he tosses off as soon as Gabriel puts an arm around his waist to keep him stable and in place.

"I do think, the day calls for the most splendid songs," Sombra strikes a chord, a devilish smirk on her lips, and Jack almost lunges at her with a squawk - if not for Gabriel's grip over his stomach.

"Don't you dare, witch!" Jack sputters.

"Oh, but I do dare, ungulate, it’s the least you deserve!"

She continues the melody in spite of Jack spitting and hissing like a cat at a witcher. Gabriel chuckles over the comparison before he presses another cup into Jack's palm and feels him capitulate in time for Sombra to start the song not fit for any place other than a tavern, or a brothel.

"Please, just kill me," Jack whines with his face buried in the crook of Gabriel's neck when everyone at the table seems to know some semblance of the words that go with the tune, snorts angrily at the final chorus of 'Jack the Stag, he's never going to leave a lass unsatisfied'. "I demand reparations, for my slandered reputation."

"If you, maybe, had a reputation first, to slander," Sombra waves him off before starting on another song.

"See, the next time? I'll leave you hanging up there in some tree, just so you know, so you can reap what you sow."

"Cry me a river, ungulate."

Hiding under Gabriel's chin and with his fingers kneading into Gabriel's sides, Jack whines about ungrateful traitorous witches - it's all too familiar, as if nothing has ever broken this idyll up - and for this, Gabriel is thankful.

Soon, Lila retires, with Woj barely conscious in her arms mumbling sleepily as she carries him into the house, and Wernund follows, leaving the night to the youth, as he says, his old bones needing their full night's rest.

Sombra switches up her repertoire for an even raunchier one, perfectly happy to just entertain them all with a song between the sips of the wine Jack, despite his words, feeds to her to keep her throat wet. Her eyes follow Mojmira's silhouette with unbidden appreciation when she leaves - and then with pure adoration when she comes back with two more pitchers.

Somehow, Adan and Jack get into a drinking contest, each trying to drink the other one under the table in the shortest time possible, and, inexplicably, Gabriel finds his cup always full when he brings it to his lips, even after Jack bumps into it with his elbow and spills all. The effect is not a too-long wait away, Aden lies braced on the table, with his head buried in his arms, half-awake and clutching at the empty earthen jug.

"And don't ask me if I love you, don't you worry about what I think," Sombra hits low mournful notes on her lute.

Jack slips off his lap and Gabriel snatches his hand before he has a sliver of a chance to disappear; Jack meets his eyes with a demure look and fingers wrapping around Gabriel's own wrist as he pulls him off the bench.

"Just know I'm yours in my own way," Sombra sings. And Gabriel knows he's a sacrificial lamb led to its slaughter under the full moon - led past the dying torches - past the threshold of the barn he steps over out of his own unprompted volition. "But when I want to be your dream, I won't be satisfied with just your kisses."

[evermorehaikyuu]

Day 21

Title: Stranger Successor

Note: Not at me getting everything ready and forgetting to post the note. No one dies in this one, don’t worry, just the normal angst. Nine more days, woooo

˜”*°•.˜”*°•.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

“How can I think otherwise when you don’t look at me the same way?”

“Give me one last chance, please Y/N, please. I promise I can do better.”

“That’s what you said the past seven times. Nothing. I’ve been too patient with you, Tooru.” Y/N stared at him up and down, her gaze not icy nor warm. It was desolate. She was right. Compared to his other girlfriend, she had been so patient, so lovely, it was hard not to look at her with adoration in his eyes. 

However, patience could only stretch so far. It was his job to maintain his “work” life and his love life. Right now, he could only choose one or the other and he had chosen his work life. Friends over his lover. 

As he watched Y/N turn around and abandon him, he brought his hand up as if trying to reach out for her, realizing right then and there that there was nothing he could say to bring her back. 

I hope someday you’ll realize how much I love you.

~

“Oikawa, are you okay?” Hanamaki asked as Oikawa walked in, deep purple eyebags showing how many nights he had gone without sleep. It was a miracle he was still standing but there was no way that he would be able to stand up on his own for any longer.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay, let’s get started.” Oikawa shook his head, trying to oscillate the exhaustion from him. 

As practice went on, it was more and more obvious that Oikawa was not okay. His sets were good enough to spike but compared to the tons of perfect and elite sets he had done, these were nothing. Worthless. They weren’t useful in the middle of a game. 

Iwaizumi yanked him aside during their break time and glared at him. “All right, I don’t know who you think you’re fooling.”

“What do you mean? I’m fine!’ Oikawa insisted, the fact that he was swaying not entering his mind. “See? I’m standing up by myself!”

“Actually, you’re swaying.” Iwaizumi huffed and sat him down at one of the benches. “Is it Y/N?” If Oikawa thought he was slick about her, he was dead wrong. It was obvious to his best friend, after all, she was the only thing he had talked about for days on end. “It’s been three months, Oikawa…”

“Yeah? It doesn’t matter, she’s not by my side anymore and she was so much better than my ex-girlfriend.” He swallowed, thinking that now Y/N was his ex as well. “Just leave me alone, Iwaizumi.”

That’s what threw Iwaizumi off. No Iwa-chan. Just Iwaizumi. Something was severely wrong. “You know, just go and talk to her.”

“How can I talk to her when she’s seen me kiss like five other girls?!” Oikawa screamed before quieting down at the sight of the rest of his team glancing over at him. He didn’t want to do it. His heart told him not to do it, but deep inside of him, he had thought that if he found another girl, he’d forget about Y/N altogether. Every kiss was different, yet none of them were soft and warm like her kisses. Her kisses could range from playful to meaningful to feeling like he was finally home in her arms. And he let that all go.

Iwaizumi was quiet, pondering this. Sure, his best friend may have gone through rebounds but seeing him in this desperate and miserable state was not something he wanted to see everyday. “You know, that may have been the case but you never know until you try. Go on. Just pull her aside and try to get her to take you back.”

“What if she doesn’t? What if she’s sick of her giving me too many chances? Then I’ll just look pathetic!” Oikawa wailed, gripping his water bottle. His emotions were getting the better of him and he was on the verge of losing it.

“No. You have to do it.” With those words, they went right back to practice.

It was decided, then. Oikawa would do everything in his power to go and talk to Y/N and maybe even get her back. What he didn’t know then is that not everyone has patience, even after it’s worn out and they put a mask on anyways.

Take me back, give me one last chance to prove what you’ve always thought of me.

~

It was a Friday night and Oikawa had texted Y/N to meet him at the cafe that they had always gone to whenever one of them was stressed out. The familiar smell, associated with the memory of her, comforted him as he sat down at one of the tables for two. He had tried to sleep the night before with no avail. Matsukawa and Hanamaki were the ones to help him try to make him look as presentable as possible and he actually looked decent, to his surprise.

Y/N arrived, carrying a small backpack and seeming as if she hadn’t missed him at all. He guessed she hadn’t. She had broken up with him, not the other way around. Sitting across from him, she avoided his eyes, only giving him a perceptible nod. Ordering her coffee, she turned back to look at him. “So…”

Oikawa didn’t know what to say. He took a deep breath and ran through the several things he could tell her. “I called you here to apologize.”

“Oh, I know that.”

“You do?” He was taken aback at her bluntness and swallowed. “How?”

“It’s in your nature, Oikawa. You apologize for things that aren’t really necessary. They were bound to happen sooner or later, even if you had changed.” She shrugged, reaching for one of the many sugar packets at the table and fiddling with it. “You don’t need to apologize for much.”

“That’s not….the only reason I called you here.” He looked down at the coffee placed in front of him, not daring to take a sip in case he couldn’t hold it down. “Do you think we could’ve worked out? Scratch that, do you think you could ever take me back?”

Y/N, already having taken a sip of her drink, almost choked on it. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she stared at him. “You’re kidding. You called me here for that? Oikawa--” She let out a small laugh, not believing his words. “You have so many girls pining after you. How am I any different from them?”

Careful. You don’t want to say anything that will drive her away from here. Oikawa nodded to him slightly and said, “For one, you never fell for me at first. I kept trying to charm you, but you were stubborn about it and when you did, well, I was completely taken by shock.”

Y/N nodded, twirling her straw in her cup. “Yeah. You could’ve chosen anyone else, and you chose me.”

“And I still do.” He looked at her hand then up at her eyes, determination crossing them. “I still choose you over anyone else. I still want to be with you, Y/N, I would do anything for it.”

“No. You wouldn’t. There’ll always be something you’d choose over someone else.”

“Stop being cryptic, I’m serious here.” His tone had changed drastically and he immediately regretted it as she narrowed her eyes at him.

“So am I. I don’t know what I’m doing here in the first place if you’re just going to beg for my forgiveness and for me to take you back. I thought you were better than that.” Leaving her money and unfinished cup at the table, she started walking away quickly.

Oikawa slammed down his own money and started rushing after her, taking her wrist and spinning her around to face him. He stated, “I am better than that! Why do you think I’m not giving up?!”

“Well, you should! I’m not any different than them, go find someone else to bring into your arms!” Y/N hissed back.

“I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending they’re you!” He threw his hands up in the air, exasperated. It was one thing he had loved about Y/N, but it was also coming back to bite him in the foot. Her stubbornness and pride prohibited her from doing specific things and usually she was right about those things. He didn’t want her to be right this time. 

Y/N stared at him for two seconds before talking slowly. “You’re not just hurting yourself. You’re hurting them too. And if you think for a second I’m going to be woven into your trap again, think again. I’m done with your excuses. Just...just leave me alone, Tooru.” Her voice cracked at his name and she cleared her throat. She looked up at his eyes, the eyes she had once fallen madly in love with. “I don’t want to be with you anymore.” With those words, she walked away from him.

Oikawa had a severe sense of deja vu as he watched her receding back. Clenching his fists, he stared at the floor, squeezing his eyes shut. He could sense himself on the verge of crying, but he tried to keep it away as long as he could. He didn’t want to cry, he forbade himself from crying. “No, Y/N. I might be hurting myself but that doesn’t make me feel any different about you. I would go through so many lifetimes just to be with you, I’d sacrifice it all for you,” he mumbled. He knew that she wouldn’t hear him, and those words were only to comfort himself.

He started walking back home, his fists clenched as he kept thinking “no tears, no tears, no tears” all the way. However, once they were on the rise, there was no way from stopping them from falling. 

He quickly shut himself in his room, putting on videos on volleyball teams. Halfway through the first video, his vision started getting blurry and the smallest of whimpers came out of him as he hugged his knees to his chest. His mouth was twisted in pain, trying to restrain his cries of agony. Oikawa told himself not to cry, even as streams of tears fell from his eyes. 

His stifled cries were that of someone who tried so hard not to cry only to break down in tears from holding back so long and that’s exactly what he did. He cried until there were no tears left in him. He cried until his eyes burned from the saltiness. He cried until he had fallen asleep, reaching out for Y/N in his sleep, knowing that she would never go to him.

There is always one thing that you’d sacrifice everything for and still, it wouldn’t be in your grasp. No matter how many times you tried, it would never belong to you and that’s what hurt most.

And somehow, even though I told myself what not to do, I’ve still lost you out of my own will. Please...come back.

~

Taglist: @skyguy-peach @jovialnoise @versatilewindow @tsukiibaka @jaegersblogh @kodzuken-pie @kara-grayson04 @iwantnoizsdick @attixca @volleybloop  @seiijixcia @sunareii @osterfield-hollandwriter​ @selca11​@mochi-poof​

[im-the-king-of-the-ocean]

Rose Puppetry Ch4: Rose Red

Summary:

A century ago or so, Atlas set out to conquer the world.  Penny was built to be a spy, an infiltrator meant to find weaknesses in Vale’s defenses before the invasion.

She did.  Then she fell in love.  And rebelled against the kingdom that had created her.

Ch1.  Ch2.  Ch3.

.

Let us step away from the scene of a heartbroken mechanical girl as she learns of the fate that has befallen her love.  Allow our attention to attend to events so long ago now they risk becoming history.  Perhaps, to some, they already are.  But the significance of these events should not be diminished or overlooked merely because of the time that has passed since their occurrence.  For they shine out like a beacon star, guiding weary travelers home and igniting hope in their hearts.

The Kingdom of Vale is ruled by a kind and just king.  One whose compassion is known throughout his own and every other kingdom.  Some would consider his Royal Majesty, Ozpin, weak, for the softness of his heart.  The wiser are able to recognize the guile behind his gaze.  They know Ozpin’s kindness comes not from the naïveté of someone born into a comfortable and luxurious life, but from continuously choosing, after seeing the horrors of the world, to do everything in his power to make it better.

One of the greatest accomplishments of Ozpin’s reign, future texts will claim, is the establishment of his Huntsman Academy.  It is not, as most would assume, an institute of military indoctrination like similar-appearing schools established in every single Atlas-controlled territory.  The Huntsman Academy does not require its graduates to swear everlasting and unyielding loyalty to its patron royal.  All it asks of them is that they should consider going out into the world and lending a hand whenever and wherever they are able.

Though not every single Huntsman or Huntress has chosen to align themselves with such noble goals, enough have that the public perception of the academy’s graduates has become one of legendary heroes.  Enough of that perception is true that, when the first overtures of invasion and war spread across Remnant from Atlas, it was those same Huntsmen and Huntresses who willingly rose to come to the aid of their besieged neighbors.

Children in Vale have grown up on stories told of their brave protectors.  Of course, the grizzlier details of how the battles go are kept away from their innocent ears.  They’ll learn soon enough, the adults murmur amongst themselves.  Let the young keep their purity for as long as they can.

Ruby Rose, in a way, was one such child.  One of her earliest memories is sitting on her Uncle Qrow’s lap, clutching an expanse of silky white fabric in her small, chubby fists, and listening to him tell the tale of the most daring huntress who ever lived, her mother, Summer Rose.  Like other children her age, Ruby was awed by the story given to her.  Unlike them, she wouldn’t be so innocent by the end.  For it wasn’t just a story, it was also a reason why her mother never came back home.

Ruby was never alone for long in that regard.  As war crept closer to Vale’s borders, more and more of Ruby’s peers came to have tales of brave parents who never returned too.  Her school even started a program for those orphaned or displaced.  That’s how Ruby came to know her childhood friends, Ren and Nora.

Nothing she heard, however, could dissuade Ruby from her dream of following in Summer Rose’s footsteps.  She told everyone she came across how she would become a hero, one who would save people and come back home.  Not many believed her, but none could bring themselves to try and extinguish the small, flickering fire they saw within her.  Such a hopeful thing was rare, and had to be protected.

It came to be that Ruby gained a reputation long before she was ever to be allowed near a battlefield.  During her initiation to the Huntsman Academy, she stepped in front of one of her classmates, a young heir to the renown Arc family, Jaune, and defended him from bullies who thought him unworthy of upholding his family title.  Rather than taking up a sword or a rifle, the commonest of weapons chosen among her peers, Ruby chose a scythe, one she crafted herself, to fight with.  Most scoffed at that, or her perpetually cheerful demeanor.  They called her brazen attitude, hubris, and her determination, silliness born of inexperience.

Then, they saw her fight.  Saw the swift ruthlessness of her attacks.  Only the most stubborn would refuse to change their minds about Ruby Rose.

Ruby could never bring herself to actually wear her mother’s old, white cloak—the only relic of the parent she never got the chance to know.  Rather she commissioned one similar to it in all but one detail.  Hers was ruby red.  Others would make jokes about the cloak and the blood of her enemies, but never Ruby.  For all she could be considered a brutal fighter, she was never a heartless one.

It is this attribute that made Ozpin take notice of her.  He had seen many brilliant fighters pass through his academy before Ruby, but he found not many would reach a genuine hand out and help their defeated opponents stand up again.  More than that, even less could inspire a spark of hope in those around them quite like she could.

Ozpin observed Ruby from afar all during her academy years.  A plan began to form in his head of what he could do with her, but he did not wish to impose it on her.  The ability to choose is something he regarded too highly to take away from another.  So, he waited, and watched.  When Ruby graduated, and fully came into her own, that’s when he approached her.

War hadn’t come to Vale yet, but it was going to.  Ozpin had attempted prevention with peaceful overtures, but he knew they wouldn’t last for long.  It was time to make preparations for his people.

It is said, once upon a time, there existed four great Relics in the world, one in each kingdom, of untold power.  Not many believe the tales anymore.  Years have passed without sighting or word of such great devices.  If they truly exist, people wonder, why haven’t the kingdoms’ monarchs used them to save them from Atlas?

In truth, attempts were made.

The rulers of Mistral regularly sought guidance from the Lamp of Knowledge.  It is what they learned from asking it questions that most aided them in forging their treaty with Atlas.  Though they kept war from their doorstep, they now live in constant fear of it returning.  They have used up all three of their questions and have to wait a hundred years to have another three.

The last Vacuan King rode into battle against Atlas with the Sword of Destruction firmly held aloft in his hand.  He cut down innumerable automated foes with its power.  For a time, it was believed he and the sword would single-handedly push back the invaders.  But utter Annihilation proves tricky to control, and there are rumors that the destruction of Vacuo’s oasis may not have been completely done by Atlesian hand.

The Staff of Creation was once the prized possession of Atlas.  The only reason it did not remain so was the actions of a simple soul.  An assistant in the palace’s kitchen, with the aid of his family, stole the staff and smuggled it out of the kingdom.  No one in Atlas or Mantle knows where Oscar Pine went, but they do know what happened to his family at the hands of Hazel Rainhart, for refusing to give his plans up.

Ozpin remembers the day Oscar came to him clearly.  The worry and fear in the young boy’s face.  The knowledge of everything he had given up to get such a powerful relic away from where it, or at least what remains of it, would be abused and corrupted weighing down on him.  Ozpin had done his best to help Oscar, but there are some wounds that no stranger can help heal.  The only thing he’d truly been able to do was swear he’d protect what remains of the Staff of Creation from further harm.  And so he had done his best.

The Staff’s condition continued to deteriorate with each passing day.  Ozpin couldn’t say he knew exactly what the General King of Atlas had done to it.  How he’d managed to split its crystal, or what he’d done with the missing part.  Ozpin only could know of the results, the broken state of the relic in his kingdom that did not truly belong there.

For the first time of his reign, Ozpin consulted Vale’s relic, the Crown of Choice, in the hopes it could help him understand the best course of action.  It didn’t.  The Crown simply showed Ozpin the decision he already knew he was going to make.

He could not repair the Staff of Creation.  Not without recovering its missing piece from whatever fate had befallen it.  What Ozpin could do was reforge its remains into something new.  A final act of creation by the broken relic, and a mechanical device known as the Silver Eye was born.

The Silver Eye did not function like the relics.  The only way its power could be used was if it were bonded to a person.  Someone chosen and deemed worthy of the monumental task of protecting and preserving life.  Ozpin made the choice, and he chose Ruby to be its guardian.  She accepted.

Tragically, Ruby, to the present day, has not gotten the chance to use the Silver Eye.  It was successfully bonded to her and turned her pale blue eyes the most brilliant of silvers.  Yet, before she could full understand it, her girlfriend’s past caught up to her and stole them both away.

Ruby knew who Penny was before she came to Vale.  On the night they admitted their love, Penny told her everything about where she came from and what her mission was in Vale.  Ruby held Penny as she admitted that what she was meant for and what she wanted to be were two entirely separate things.  Ruby promised Penny she loved her regardless.  She would help her.  They would forge a new future together.

The chance was stolen from them.

Later, Ruby wouldn’t really remember the attack itself.  Her recollections of the event, and most of the time directly following it, would come to be vague and murky at best.  The one thing that would come back to her would be being forced to kneel before the General King, as he gazed down at her like a prize.

Long had Ironwood desired to have one of the Huntsmen or Huntresses of Vale.  What better weapon was there, he thought, than one plucked directly from the enemy itself?  What had a better chance of outsmarting Vale’s forces than one of their own?  Of course, she would need some convincing, but that was hardly an issue.

Once upon a time, Ironwood had sliced off the hand of the King of Vacuo and stolen the Sword of Destruction from its failing grasp.  His kingdom may have lost their original relic, but that hardly mattered to the General King.  Not when he’d gained something that could aid his kingdom’s conquest far more than it.

And Ironwood’s scientists had been successful in manipulating the powers of Destruction.  Watts, in particular, was able to augment soldiers considerably with the dark substance the sword provided them.  Controlling their newfound Grimm forces did prove difficult.  Until the forging of the Salem Device, that is.  A mysterious, dark, twisted crown that afforded them such an ability as to command the forces of Destruction.

It was never really a question of if they’d transform Ruby, their prized, prisoner huntress, into one of these denizens, so much as it was a matter of when.  And so, soon after her capture, Ruby Rose was lowered into one of the deep, dark Pools of Annihilation, and Destruction consumed every inch of her it could.

But, it should be known, Destruction could not consume all of her.

For even then, unknown to the Atlesians who watched her transformation, the Silver Eye remained with Ruby.

It is slowly beginning to wake up.

[thegizka]

We Speak In Silence

Chapter 3:  Flickering Shadows

Sasuke can't view Sakura's visit as anything more than a routine checkup. She'd been distant and professional. They hadn't made small talk. She'd just been a medical shinobi performing her duty. But Naruto seems to think he's missing something, and when Sakura returns to check on him again, Sasuke begins to think his best friend might be right.

Note:  I do not own any aspect of Naruto.

Read it on Ao3.

“So,” Naruto grinned.  When he grinned, you heard it in his voice.

“So what?” Sasuke asked.

“Sakura-chan!  She came to visit, right?”

“She came to make sure I’m healing properly, not to visit.”  He leaned back until his head touched the wall.

“You didn’t talk about stuff?”

“What is there to talk about?”

“You know, stuff,” he said in that irritating way he had when he thought something was obvious.  “There’s always something to talk about.”

“That’s because you never shut up, usuratonkachi.”

“Well you don’t say enough,” he countered.  “Maybe she’s waiting for you to take the lead.”

“Maybe she’s not interested in talking to me.”

“It’s not complicated.  Anyone could have checked on you, but she came.  Sakura-chan doesn’t do things for no reason.  You’re part of our team, Sasuke.  She cares about you.  These aren’t things that you can just ignore.”

“Yeah, well, things have changed.”

“Things haven’t changed as much as you think.  You’re still a stubborn idiot.”

“That’s rich coming from you.”

“All I’m saying is you should have more faith in her.  She’s kept her faith in you.”

Sasuke wondered how he could be so sure, but Naruto’s visiting time was up, and he didn’t think he wanted to continue this conversation right now.

By his best guess, it had been four days since Sakura had been here.  He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it in many of the moments he was left to himself.  He’d replayed their interactions in his mind, searching for answers to questions he hadn’t thought to ask in the moment.

She hadn’t seemed particularly interested in chatting.  She’d been distant and clinical.  True, he hadn’t made much of an attempt to break the ice, but what could he say?  “Hey Sakura, nice to see you, except not really because my eyes are sealed away since I’m a criminal.  Sorry for ignoring you and breaking your heart and trying to kill you.  How have you been?”

Somehow he didn’t think that would go over well.

With a frustrated exhale, Sasuke hauled himself to his feet.  Sakura had told him to get up and walk around, so he made a point of doing so.  Shuffling around with his eyes covered and arms tied was frustrating, but after several stubbed toes, he’d determined the dimensions of his cell and could pace unhindered.  The exercise felt pointless, but after ignoring Sakura’s pleas for so long, he had decided to listen to her for once.  This, at least, was something he could do for her.

She couldn’t expect anything more.  Her aloof professionalism seemed to confirm this.  Sasuke thought it was for the best.  After all, he was a walking deadman for all they knew.  He was a criminal.  Naruto seemed to think this was no more important than the color of his hair, but Sakura was smarter.  She was practical.  She knew as well as he did that he had no future to speak of.  And even if the council was lenient and let him live, his past had stained him.  He would be notorious, and any association with him would only bring pain.

Sasuke’s mind flickered to his brother, and he felt a twinge of pain at his temples.  Itachi had lived as a rogue shinobi, hated by his village and his brother.  He hadn’t deserved it.  The machinations of those in power had forced the infamy upon him.  Sasuke had brought all of this upon himself.

What would Itachi think of him?  This was another train of thought the darkness seemed to welcome.  Sasuke wondered how much he’d really known his brother.  It frustrated him that Naruto seemed to have had a rapport with Itachi, however complicated and short-lived it had been.  He’d had a chance to understand him.  Sasuke had always been chasing his brother without quite reaching him.  It was only now that he was beginning to feel close to him.

Sasuke stepped forward until his forehead pressed against the cool stone of the cell wall, willing it to cool his thoughts.  Memories of his brother still incited strong emotions in him.  His initial hatred had been redirected towards the world that had made Itachi a sacrifice for their power.  Since he had allowed this world a second chance, where could he direct his anger now?

“Sasuke-kun?”

Instinctively he clenched his jaw, though whether in irritation or surprise, he couldn’t say.  He turned toward the door as he heard it open, unsure what to expect.

“Medical visit,” one of the guards announced, but he barely registered the words.  Sakura had gone straight to his side and drawn his full attention.

“Are you okay?” she asked with gentle but urgent concern.

“Yeah.”  He was a little surprised.  She seemed less guarded than she had since they’d reunited, yet as far as he could tell, nothing had changed between them.

“Is it your eyes?”

He felt her reach for him and flinched back instinctively.  She froze for a moment before lowering her hands.  Sasuke could feel the air between them cool.

“I was just walking around a bit like you told me to.”

“Ah.”  She knew he wasn’t telling her everything, but she didn’t push him.  “Have a seat.”

Sasuke stepped towards the bench, but he must have misjudged the direction because he bumped into Sakura.

“Sorry,” he said, jerking away in respect for her personal space, but he bashed his skin against the bench, lost his balance, and fell, unable to rebalance in time with his arms tied.  But before he could faceplant on the rough stone floor, he fell against someone’s shoulder, and strong arms wrapped around him.

Sakura.  He could smell the freshness of her shampoo as his cheek brushed against her hair.  He hadn’t been close enough to smell it since the war when he’d been the one catching her.  Even under the dirt and grime of battle, he’d still recognized it.  The memory of that scent had been one of the few things he hadn’t been able to leave behind when he turned his back on the village all those years ago.

Sasuke realized she was trembling as she guided him to sit on the bench.  He must have hurt her or scared her somehow, and guilt lanced through him.

“I’m sor-”

“Careful,” Sakura said, and the rest of the apology dissolved on his tongue.  He couldn’t believe it.  She was laughing.  Or rather, she was trying not to, but he had heard the mirth in the tone of her voice.  He was relieved he hadn’t caused her any more pain, but the relief quickly gave way to annoyance.

“Sakura,” he said as she began undoing the buckles on the straitjacket.

“Hm?”  Her tone was purposefully innocent.  He waited in meaningful silence so she’d be forced to address it.

“I’m sorry Sasuke-kun,” she finally chuckled.  “It was just so awkward, and your face…”  More giggles overtook her words.  He sighed.

“You’re so annoying.”

The laughter died on her lips and her fingers stilled.  Sasuke felt the air cool between them again.  Evidently those words meant something different to Sakura than they did to him.  She was so much harder to read than Naruto.

After a tense moment, her fingers started moving again, pulling aside the jacket and beginning to unwrap his arm.

“How is the pain?” she asked, voice back to being distant and professional.

“Fine,” he said, then amended it to “better.”

“You do look better,” Sakura observed.  Her fingers ghosted over the still-tender skin, chakra bathing it in comfort and warmth.  Sasuke was struck by how intimate medical ninjutsu was.  To literally pour one’s energy and strength into another, to intertwine one’s essence with one’s patient, it was to join lives in a way.  The chakra pouring into him felt like Sakura, was Sakura, and he could read her identity in it.  It made him uncomfortable, but he craved more when she drew her hands away.

“And how have you been sleeping?”

“About the same.”  Which was to say he hadn’t been sleeping really.  It was so hard to tell when his world was darkness and his thoughts shouted into the void.  He’d caught himself dozing a few times, but he couldn’t remember anything more restful.

“You should learn to let your mind rest,” she suggested as she carefully wrapped a new bandage around his arm.    “Naruto says you’ve been thinking too much.”

“Naruto doesn’t think at all,” he grumbled, feeling like his friend was tattling on him to their teammate, but also a little pleased to know they were talking about him.  Then again, half of the shinobi world probably was.

“True,” Sakura agreed, a spark of amusement returning to her voice and leading Sasuke’s mind back to the present.  “But he is unnervingly perceptive about what’s important.”

“My sleep patterns aren’t important.”

“They are!” she insisted with a force that surprised him.  “You’ve been under a lot of stress lately between the intel interrogations, your injuries, and having so much of your chakra sealed away.  Your body and mind need rest to maintain their strength.  Your ninja way is all about getting stronger right?”

Was it?  Sasuke was no longer sure.  Every time he thought he was close to achieving his goal, something tore it down and changed it.  None of the strength he’d gained had brought him to the answers he wanted.  But at this point, what else did he have?

“If you want to get stronger you need to rest.  Otherwise you’ll find yourself behind Naruto again when you get out of here.”

“I was never behind Naruto,” he growled instinctively.  But he was more hung up on the end of that sentence.  When you get out of here.  Was it a slip of the tongue?  Did she know something about the council’s deliberations?  Or was she simply hoping, and why would Sakura hope for that?

“You think I’ll get out of here?” he asked quietly.

Her hands slowed before she began pulling the straitjacket back in place.

“Naruto thinks so,” Sakura finally answered.

“I wasn’t asking about Naruto.”

She remained silent, and time stilled as her fingers moved to his throat.  He counted her quiet breaths as she counted the beats of his heart, waiting patiently.

“Maybe,” she admitted quietly when she withdrew.  It surprised him.  Sakura was practical and smart, yet even she thought it possible for him to be pardoned enough to be released.

“Try to get some sleep,” she instructed, back to business mode.  “And keep up the exercise.  Let someone know if the pain worsens.”

“Sakura,” he called as she turned to go.  “Next time…”

“Yes, Sasuke-kun?” she coaxed as he hesitated.

“Next time, maybe you could tell me more about what you think.”

He heard her turn back towards him and felt her eyes study him.

“Perhaps,” she finally said before leaving.  He hadn’t been able to read the emotions in her tone of voice, but she hadn’t rejected the possibility.  Maybe she was more open to talking with him than he’d thought.  What would he say to her if they did have a chance to chat?  He’d have to think about it.

But first, he’d try to get some sleep.  If he was going to get out of here someday, he sure as hell wasn’t going to let Naruto get ahead of him.

[mymelodyheart]

Forget Me Not Chapter 27 ~Obsessions~

"Claire! There ye are!"

She spun around in her chair to face Geillis. "Hey! Right on time. Just finishing."

Geillis crossed her arms, took a step back and studied her face. "Mmm ...ye look great. Nae dark circles under yer eyes, ye gained a bit of weight, and ye're no' cranky. Sleeping better?"

She grinned. The last few weeks had been perfect. She was finally sleeping without the nightmares and eating properly. Her work schedule had finally loosened up after the arrival of her new assistant, Mary McNab, a widower in need of a part-time job. And to her relief, her nauseousness and fainting spells seemed to have ebbed. 

Then there was Jamie.

The thought of him made her smile. Since that night in the stable, they had been together almost every day and most nights. And when he wasn't with her, he was either busy rehabilitating Donas or overseeing and working on the renovation of the house he bought a while back. Although she had offered money from her inheritance to finance their eventual home's restoration, he was too stubborn and proud to accept. He was persistent and adamant that it was a man's job to provide for his family with his own sweat and hard work. Slightly annoyed but not wanting to disturb the peace, she conceded, thinking her money could be put to use for other things in the future. She really couldn't complain much about his stubbornness. After all, it was this particular trait that got him through his ordeal.

Although aware of the changes in her body, her pregnancy was still not visible, which was a great thing, since her rushed wedding was only a couple of weeks away, a few months before Jenny's. And for the first time in a very long time, she felt relaxed, and her spirit was light, and she wasn't about to stress over their upcoming nuptials. After what happened in the last few months, she realised life was too precious to be worrying. Whatever worries and expectations she had for the future, she had shoved them away and focused on the present. She did precisely what Ellen had advised her.

Take it one moment at a time. One day at a time.

Let your sense of control go and give it up to the higher power.

Believe you will be guided to the right path and have faith.

As for Jamie, pending fatherhood had changed him a lot. He had been slightly going overboard with baby proofing the house and buying heaps of reading materials on first-time parenthood. And slowly, despite protests from the family, he had also eased his way back to work in the hotel, doing only half-days so as not to compromise his recovery. 

She refocused on Geillis. "Thank you. I'm finally sleeping through the night, so I'm more energetic."

"That's great, chick. It's about time. We don't want ye looking all gaunt and stressed out on yer big day."

"After what happened with Annalise, I think I have my priorities straightened out by now. Call it an awakening or whatever. I'm determined not to be one of those bridezillas. I'll just go with the flow. I'm just happy Jamie is on his feet and thriving even if he's back to being his stubborn self. But I must say, he's obsessing way too much about the baby to a point he was wondering if there was some sort of daddy boot camp around this area."

Geillis laughed. "Aye, weel, that's quite normal. He's definitely looking better too. He looks like a man truly well-loved. If ye ken what I mean." She winked to make a point.

"Ha, ha! Anyway, enough of me. How're things with Willie?"

Geillis rolled her eyes, feigning exasperation over the topic. But Claire knew her friend's feelings ran way deeper. "Weel, ye ken it took a while before he convinced me to go out to dinner with him ..." She paused to check her cuticles. "I tried to be all cool about it by telling him that I'm a big girl, and I could handle one night stands and that he didn't need to take me out to dinner as a thank ye. I was convinced I was some sort of transitional. Weel, he was appalled with my assumptions. But whatever ...I'm done fighting my feelings. Like ye, I'm just going with the flow. I like the lad, Claire but sometimes, I cannae forget that time when he called out yer name on our first night together. It keeps coming back."

"Oh, Geillis." Claire stood up and hugged her friend. When she finally pulled away, she looked at her friend in the eyes. "Listen. He announced to the family that you're his girlfriend, and he hasn't done that for years. Besides, how many times did he ask ye out before ye relented? That accounts for something. He must like you a lot to pursue you; otherwise, he wouldn't have been persistent. Stop worrying. He cares for you, and you know fine, Willie is not that sort of bloke, ok?"

"Aye," Geillis shrugged. "It's just that the Fraser lads are known for their gallantry, so ye never know if Willie was just trying to do right by me."

Claire shook her head. "Now, don't be daft. Willie hardly goes home to Lallybroch now. He's always in our house, and that's because he wants to spend more time with you. And that reminds me, I think he better start coughing up some cash for the rent. That man can eat!"

"Weel so does yer, Jamie. What's with men and midnight snacks?" 

They looked at each other and giggled.

"Come on, lass, let's get ye out of here before more work is piled on yer desk." Geillis started to pull her hand as she grabbed her satchel. "I don't want to be late for our appointment."

Claire almost forgot about their appointment at a beauty salon. They were planning to have their nails done, including facial and Brazilian wax treatments. It was Geillis' advance bridal gift to her. "Erm Geillis, don't ye think I can skip the Brazilian wax part? It sounds like it's going to hurt. And aren't we supposed to do this before the wedding? You know all this pampering and stuff."

"Ach, shush. This one's on me. Jenny arranged the pamper session before the wedding already. And as for the Brazilian wax, Jamie will be please, and ye can consider it an early wedding present for him. And besides, I've wanted to do this for a long time, just ye and me. Even though we live in the same house, we hardly spend time together anymore," Geillis chattered as she continued to pull Claire along. "Ye ken what they say, no pain, no gain. Trust me ...men love it. It will be worth it."

"Well, Jamie has never complained before..."

"Of course, he hasn't complained. He doesn't know any better. Wait till ye see the look on his face when he sees yer fanny."

Self-consciousness crashed over her, and she yanked her friend by the arm. "Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ! Pipe down will you! Don't want the staff knowing what we're about to do."

"Don't want the staff to know what?" a deep voice came from behind them. The girls jumped as Willie approached them. After a quick kiss to Geillis, he eyed them both suspiciously. 

"Aaah, a wee bit of a trim and some pampering. Girls' afternoon out, ye ken. Will be home before dinner," Geillis explained hurriedly. She stood on tiptoes to give Willie a quick peck before pulling Claire roughly.

"Wait ..." Willie called after them.

"We're late, sorry," Claire looked at him apologetically. "See you at home."

Damn Geillis! He will find out soon enough what they have been up to.  Claire cringed at the thought as she allowed her friend to pull her away from the baffled looking Willie.

..........

It was early evening when Claire finally made it through her door. She had dropped off Geillis at the hotel for her impromptu dinner date with Willie before heading home. Other than the funny feeling between her legs after the Brazilian wax treatment, Claire felt shiny and brand new from her pampering session. Sneaky as her friend was, she appreciated their time together since it was long overdue and she very much needed some girl-talk.

"In here, Sassenach," Jamie's voice called out as she heard utensils and pans clacking. She inhaled deeply, and she smelled food.

Dropping her satchel and laptop on the coffee table, she made her way to the kitchen. "Oh, hi ...Whatever you're making, I hope you didn't make loads. Geillis and I were served snacks at the beauty salon."

She was just about to go over to Jamie when he stopped her on her tracks. "Stay where ye are, Sassenach. I need to blindfold ye."

"W-what?" 

Jamie waved a hand in the air. "A wee degustation. It's straightforward - I blindfold ye, and ye let me know how each of the things I made taste. It's sort of a trial for a full course menu I'd like to make and suggest to Murtagh."

"Huh? Taste-testing? I don't know if I could go through a whole set of menu, Jamie. I might have loads of appetite these days but don't you think it's a bit late for that?" She eyed the paper bags on the countertop with suspicion. "And why do I have to be blindfolded?"

Jamie smiled. "They're just wee bite portions, Sassenach. I just want to know how the components go together, and ye have a great taste palate. As for the blindfold, I think one has a more open mind when ye can't visually peg the ingredients. Allows yer taste buds to take over as the primary sensory perception."

"Aaah, is that so, Chef Fraser?" she teased, grinning.

"Aye, it is so. Weel, are ye helping me out here or not?"

Her skin tingled with anticipation. "Fine, let's do this."

He lit up, pushing up the sleeves on his casual shirt as if prepping for something big. He put on Claire's girly pink apron hanging from the hook, which only made him look more masculine than ever, and dragged a chair for her to sit on.

"I can sit on the stool," she pointed out.

"No. A chair is sturdier, trust me."

Sturdier for what?  She shrugged. "Alright, so what do I do?"

He pulled out a scarf from the back pocket of his jeans, grinning, a wicked gleam lighting his eyes. "First this."

"Oooh, kinky."

"Aye, I can do kinky," he whispered as he gently placed the scarf over her eyes and tied a loose knot, before planting a kiss on her cheek. "So, can ye see anything?"

"Nope."

"Right, sit tight and give me a few secs."

She heard cupboard doors open and close, and the rustle of bags. She smelled the scent of freshness and a variety of herbs, all mixed up. The refrigerator door squeaked, and then it went silent. Jamie's shuffling around the kitchen slowly relaxed her, and she allowed her mind to drift while she waited for the first taste.

Moments passed before she sensed him kneeling in front of her as a rush of his warm breath hit her lips. "Are ye ready for yer first taste, Sassenach?"

She twitched her nose and smiled. "Yes."

"Open up ...aaahhh."

Her lips parted. She expected the cool, smooth touch of the spoon, but Jamie used his fingers instead. He placed something small and soft on her tongue. The flavour of earth tickled her taste buds, and the firm bite against her teeth exploded juice in her mouth.

"Dumpling? With truffles and wild mushroom." A smile touched her lips as she caught the last bite of mirin. "Ooooh, the balance is incredible."

He wiped a trickle of moisture from her bottom lip. "Good lass. It was dumpling filled with porcini, chanterelles and truffle oil. Did you like it?"

She grinned, licking her lips. "Uh-huh. It was yum."

"Alright, next one." She waited, her senses going on high alert. "Open for me."

Her body relaxed as if trying to respond to the command. Before she could take a whiff of what's coming next, Jamie pushed the morsel into her mouth. She tasted something creamy, thick cheese combined with a hint of garlic, olive oil, sweet basil and crisp tomato.

"Mmmm," she moaned. "Mozzarella cheese, my favourite. And tomato ...so fresh and so good, like it was recently plucked from the vine. And basil ...this is so heaven!"

He chuckled, and his hand began stroking her cheek, soothing her into a more relaxed trance. The simplicity of the flavours flowed through her, and she allowed herself to lean back. "Ye're very good at this, Sassenach and the faces ye're making, is making it hard for me to concentrate," he said in a low voice, his finger trailing down her throat. "Do ye want more?"

She nodded eagerly this time. "Uh-huh."

"I want to take off yer top."

She was caught off-guard by his request. His outrageous demand was over the top, aware that there's a possibility Willie and Geillis could walk in on them anytime even though she knew they went out for dinner. But still, the whole scenario was turning her on and she felt brazen. "Do it for me, then."

Not saying another word, he unbuttoned her blouse with deft fingers, and the cool air rushed at once over her exposed skin. For her, it felt so outrageously decadent to be sitting in the kitchen, blindfolded and having Jamie feed her. As her mind began to wander and ponder what was going to come next, he took her by surprise when his mouth suddenly clamped on her nipple and started sucking through the lace fabric of her bra, flicking his tongue back and forth. She gasped and automatically arched toward him. Before her hands could grip his shoulders, he was gone, and she was grasping air. Next, she heard a clatter of utensil hitting the countertop, the rustle of paper and Jamie whistling. Each second twisted the tension in her stomach to another knot.

She tried to even out her breaths as she felt him come closer, but he spoke quite calmly. "Ready for yer next bite, Sassenach?"

She nodded.

"Open."

She did and bit down. It was flaky and smelled of the river. There was a hint of teriyaki sauce and spring onion, but it didn't overwhelm the natural flavour of the fish.

"Salmon! Oh ...and it's beautifully cooked."

"Mmm, very good." As she chewed and swallowed, he unhooked her bra, and her breasts spilt free into his waiting hands. The combination of his touch and the lingering flavour of food in her mouth made her shiver. Coasting his finger over her stomach, he traced the waistband of her skirt. "Lift yer hips, Sassenach, this is coming off."

Her inner rational voice wanted to tell him absolutely not, but her body had a mind of its own as her hips lifted to their own accord.

She heard his sharp intake of breath. "Beautiful ...so beautiful. It never stops, does it? The wanting ye?" he whispered as he stroked and caressed her calves and upward, gently parting her legs. She hissed, unable to get a word to pass her mouth. "We have two tastes left. Let's get ye something to wash it down with."

She could only whimper at the loss of his touch as he stood up and made his way back again in the kitchen. A cupboard door slammed, and the sound of liquid being poured into a glass echoed in her ears. "Just a wee sip because it's alcohol. Let me know what ye think."

He cupped her chin and tipped the glass to her lips. The wine trickled down her throat, the scent of blackberries drifting to her nostrils and soaking her mouth. She relished the intense tannins and boldness of flavour. "Red wine. I can taste berries. Cabernet Sauvignon?"

"Aye, it's Cabernet Sauvignon. Pregnancy has definitely heightened yer senses. Have a little more and then that's enough. It's not good for the baby."

As she took another sip, his palm cupped her between her thighs, taking her by surprise.

Her hips shot up, and the wine slid down her throat. "Stunning," Jamie murmured as if she was one of his scientific experiments.

A choked laugh escaped her throat. She thought they had both gone bonkers acting out a foodie sex scene, yet she didn't want him to stop and needed him to finish where he'd taken her. "Stop teasing me, Jamie," she said hoarsely. "I need ..."

"Hush, I ken what ye need, Sassenach. Lift up."

And she did, and he carefully slid down her panties.

She waited for his hands or his mouth, but there was only cold air. "Jamie?"

"Oh, holy Christ!"

Oh, holy Christ, what?  She was confused for a moment and then she remembered the Brazilian wax treatment she had from earlier. All of a sudden, her face heated up and she tried to squeeze her legs together in embarrassment. "I guess I've gone over the top. Y-you don't like it?" she asked stammering.

He didn't answer her question. "Legs apart, Sassenach, I want to see," he demanded in a low voice.

She obeyed, completely helpless, wishing she could see his reaction. There was a long moment of silence.  Jesus, why isn't he saying anything? 

He didn't utter a word, as she felt him move away from her. Every muscle in her body was locked with tension as she waited for him to say something. Anything. Instead, when he came back, his fingers pushed past her lips and laid a sample on her tongue.

Chocolate truffle!  Bittersweet, rich and creamy. The chocolate coated her tongue and melted in her mouth, making her smile. "Oh God! That's lush," she said huskily.

Without warning, the blindfold was suddenly ripped off, his mouth taking hers in an urgent kiss. Then his tongue slid in to taste the residual flavours in Claire's mouth while his fingers slid between her legs.

It didn't take long, and she came hard, bucking against the chair, a dozen sensations pulling her in different directions. Jamie muttered something incoherently, hiked her up against him and stumbled into her bedroom. In a few seconds, he dropped her on the bed and shed his clothes.

She was still shaking from the after-effects of her orgasm when he pushed her knees back and took her in one full, deep thrust. Sweat dripped from his brow as he locked gaze with her. At that moment, her heart burst open, filling her with light and immense love flowing out of her and surrounding them.

"You've always been mine," he whispered.

Her body welcomed him as her inner walls clamped hard around his cock. He took her wildly, and she gave it back to him, with the sting of her nails, with the ragged cries of his name and the thrust of her hips. And when they both exploded together, he wrapped his arms tight around her body, keeping her safe within the circle.

Racked with pleasure, he collapsed on top of her, muttering her name like a litany of prayer and worship.

It took a while before they got their heartbeats and breathing back to normal and reality broke through. Then Claire started to laugh against his chest, and he smiled down at her. "Wow, Jamie, what just happened there?"

"I dinna ken. I did plan on a slow seduction, but after I saw ye bare down there, I just lost it. I kinda feel like a dirty old man liking it, but I must admit, it looks verra pretty. Was I too rough?" he asked, pressing a kiss on her forehead.

She found it endearing how his accent became more pronounced when he was sex-drunk. Smiling, she propped herself on her elbow, her finger tracing the whorl of hair on his chest. "No ...it was everything, Jamie."

"Good. Now that mama is well-fed and satisfied, it's the baby's turn," he laughed, pulling her out of bed.

He was full of surprises of late, and she was only too happy for him to lead. "What did you have in mind?"

Scooping her up in his arms, he bit her earlobe gently. "First shower. Then I'll make us hot cocoa. And how about a film afterwards?"

"Sounds grand to me," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck, as he walked them to the bathroom.

An hour later, they were settled with their mugs of steaming hot cocoa in front of the television. Dressed in his t-shirt, she cuddled next to him under the blanket. 

They were just getting to the exciting part of the film when there was a loud knock on the door, making Claire jump.

She was about to get up when Jamie pulled her back. "I'll get it."

"It could be Geillis and Willie. She sent me a message earlier that she left her keys in her office."

He nodded and made his way to the door. The next consecutive knocks were louder and more urgent. "Coming ..." Jamie's loud voice called out as he hurried, the limp still slightly evident in his stride.

Claire put down the mug on the coffee table and got up from the sofa. She had an unerring instinct it wasn't Geillis knocking on the door.

"Isobel! What are ye doing here?"

It was Geneva's sister looking stressed and worried. "Is Claire here?"

Claire walked up to them, a niggling sensation starting to stir in her belly. She knew the girl, but they had hardly exchanged a full sentence since coming back to Lallybroch. Confused, she wondered why the girl was asking after her. "Isobel, what's the matter?"

Jamie waved Isobel in and closed the door behind her, worry etching his brows. "Is it Donas?"

Isobel shook her head, her eyes filled with panic and dread. "No, no, Donas is fine. I-i-i-it's my sister. She plans to do something terrible. I-i found her diary and a lot of awful things are written about y-you and the things she wants to do. It's so horrible, I c-c-can't even say it, " she stammered, glancing at Claire. "A-and yesterday I found a bottle of sulfuric acid under her bed. At first, I didn't think much about it because my father uses it to clean metals on the farm. B-but earlier I looked it up and found articles about it being used in acid attacks. A-a-and I started to wonder why she had it under her bed."

Jamie ran a hand through his hair, ragged breath whooshing out of him.

Claire suppressed her panic, not wanting to jump to false conclusions. "Isobel, maybe she's just ranting in her diary. There has to be an explanation for the acid under her bed ..." She knew instantly her rationalisation sounded lame the moment it came out of her mouth.

"N-no, she's been obsessing about you ever since her job application at the hotel was turned down by Brian. I c-can't stand back and do nothing ...and ..."

Their conversation was interrupted by another knock on the door, making them all jump.

"It must be Geillis," Claire sighed as she looked at Jamie.

Before Jamie could respond, Isobel turned around and opened the door. Then everything happened in a blur. One minute they were all standing there, expecting Geillis to come in and in the next, Isobel was on the floor howling in pain as she clutched her upper body.

Standing in the doorway was Geneva holding an empty bottle, and her eyes widened in horror as she watched her sister collapsed. "No, no, Isobel ...no, no ...I'm so sorry. Oh my God, what have I done," she cried as she fell to her knees beside her sister.

It must have been adrenaline, fear or her heightened instinct but Claire didn't take any chances as she grabbed a decorative vase on the console table and smashed it on Geneva's head. Numbly, Claire watched her crumple beside her sister as she slowly backed away.

[witchsheartbooks]

How about Claire x Mansion squad HCs in which they realize that their child inherited the Witch's Heart?

This will be a platonic x Reader. With the Reader being the child.

Claire:

She’d be moderately concerned especially after everything she went through. It was one of her fears after all. When she had dealt with it herself.

She sits them down one day, not yet sure if she should involve her partner in the discussion.

“My ray of sunshine. I was really hoping I wouldn’t have to have this talk with you but it looks like I don’t have much of a choice.” She then ruffles your hair, giving you a soft look paired with a smile that could only be described as sad.

You tilt your head quizzically, it wasn’t often that your mother was anything other than happy so it was reason for concern.

Claire reaches from behind her and produces a book. “Do you remember these books? The ones I used to read you?”

You nod, “Yes but I like the one you tell me that isn’t in a book! The one about you and Dad!”

You of course were referring to the story of her and Noel. It captivated you, always hearing of just how far he had gone for your mother.

Claire then sets the book down, solumnly. “Ah yes. That one’s you’re favorite isn’t it?”

There was a tangible pause paired with a sigh. “There are things I had trouble sharing with you. You were so young at the time so now I feel I can tell you the whole story.”

She lifts her finger, tilting it to the side and offering to smile. “It’s kinda scary though. Your opinions of my friends might change. Are you ready?”

Your brows furrow as you give a determined nod, hugging a pillow to your chest as you prepare yourself to listen.

Hours passed and you look at your mother wide eyed as she finishes with. “And now…it seems you have the Witch’s heart too.”

You toss the pillow and scramble to your mom, holding her tight. “But everything’s ok now, right? All of you are still friends and-”

She then combed your hair, shushing you gently. “Of course it is! Your father and I are going to protect you ok?”

Her voice then grew more serious as her brows furrowed. “But you can’t tell anyone ok? Even your best friends.”

You give a firm nod, squeezing her again as you simply shake in place.

Ashe:

He noticeably freezes, coming across the research confirming his worst fears.

You his own child seem to have possessed the Witch’s Heart.

No no, that can’t be right. Y/N can’t have the heart. Not like Claire. His breath caught in his throat, remembering the loss of Lilia and his two parents. Imagery entering his head upon then seeing you in the position Claire had been in.

He pushed the papers aside and stood. “No.”

Ashe was determined not to lose you. You were the only family he had and after finally having one of his own he refused to lose his family yet again.

He doesn’t speak to you about it, in fact he avoids the conversation entirely.

Your dad’s behavior tends to shift and he becomes more strict on you than you could ever have imagined.

Had you done something wrong? Where had this come from?

But you had never seen your father so scared outside of when he wakes up from those dreams he has.

The two of you spoke of almost everything so why wouldn’t he tell you…?

Unfortunately for him. Ashe would make his worst mistake this way.

Wilardo:

Taking you under his wing had curved his loneliness.

Being sterile and all, he couldn’t have children normally.

But finding you one day, it reminded him of his tie with gramps.

There was a bitter sweetness there but with how old he was now he masked it rather well.

Your father was perceptive at best, though as intimidating as he could be to others, he was always soft with you.

Though one day you noticed him growing unreasonably tense.

Setting your hand on his shoulder you try to gently get his attention.

He quirks a brow at you, keeping silent.

“Dad…? What’s wrong?” He seemed to look at you differently from before.

More distance in his gaze, more contemplative. Perhaps he was having a bad day? You couldn’t tell.

He simply shook his head. “Let’s stop for today yea? I’ll make us food. You can wander while you wait but stay close.”

He then brushes past you setting up a fire in order to prepare food. Occasionally glancing at you as you wandered the space obliviously.

With a inaudible exhale he merely watched you idly. Why am I always pulled into these hard choices…? Just like with Claire all those years ago.

He hummed while putting together the food, I have options… I could protect them like I tried with Claire but- Hm… the other option is we could both die…

Something else he remembered like a dream, an outcome with Claire where he had done the same.

He eyed you with this soft heart broken gaze, his chest fuckin hurt that’s for sure.

Was this selfish? Possibly. Or perhaps it was mercy.

While you wandered carelessly, the brooding immortal had called you back over for the meal. Handing you the bowl first and watching as you hungrily dug into the food.

You felt your muscles go limp, dropping the empty bowl as he caught you with a sigh.

Your consciousness fades and the last thing you manage to catch is, your fathers voice. “It will be over soon, Rose bud…”

Sirius:

The two of you were sitting, having afternoon tea as he was working on a few amulets in silence.

You knew how particular your father was so you did your best to keep quiet as he worked.

It was one of the few ways you could spend time with him after all so you felt it was worth it for just abit of your silence.

You doodled on this paper in front of you and he idly quirked a brow to watch.

The lines began to form a large gem in the shape of what would be the Witch’s Heart.

It was something you kept seeing in a dream, because of this your dream journal was filled to the brim with drawings of it among the disturbing imagery that usually came with this captivating gem.

Sirius sets down his cup, folding his hands as he only watched. The memories of his two best friends, his partner and that irritating Ashe Bradley idly passed through, invoking a sigh from the other.

“Y/N.” He prodded gently, enough to draw your attention away from the page.

“Hm?” Your head tilted, brows furrowing at his concerned expression. Your father as intelligent as he is happened to be a worrier at the best of times.

“I’m quite curious of your drawing, may I see it?” His red eyes conveyed only worry, his shoulders happened to be visibly tense as well.

You nod, hopping up and circling the work table to sit next to him and place it in his hands.

He only stared at the page, brows furrowed as he placed a hand on your back and rubbed. “Y/N. Do you know what this is?”

Your own brows furrowed and you gently shook your head. “I keep having dreams about it. Plus I see all these scary bloody images but-”

He gently shushes you, patting your head. “I know someone who had this gem once, you know.”

He pauses before correcting himself, “Well..two actually.”

He sets down the paper, rising from his spot and motioning for you to follow.

You perk up, tailing along with him, grasping his hand and kind of ducking under his longer cloak of which you had always seen him wearing.

Of course, you weren’t aware this was new and something he had adopted after the events of the cursed Witch’s mansion.

He mused a chuckle, patting your head again as he lead you into the side room, producing a small blue diary and slipping a picture into your palms.

You perked up, recognizing everyone in the folder immediately. “This is you, Claire and Lady Dorothy!!”

He simply nods, standing next to you and looking at the picture himself. “Yes. Though the two Elford women I looked up to, had that very gem in their chests..”

He gently taps the chest of those two in the picture.

You look up at him tilting your head in minor confusion. “Why is it in their chests, Papa?”

He only sighed, “The gemstone you were drawing is referred to as the Witch’s Heart. “

He suppresses a dry laugh as he continued, “ You know if only I wasn’t so stubborn in the beginning of it all I could have understood it all better, sooner. “

He eyes you softly. “This stone brings ruin to anyone who tries to use it. Though it tends to be in the possession of admirable people. Those who are selfish in their ambitions tend to use these people in order to get what they want, even if it means discarding them.”

He pets your hair, sighing again. “It’s how I lost Lady Dorothy in the first place. Though Noel and I, were sure not to lose Claire in the same way.”

Sirius then paces until he’s standing in front of you, your large eyes focused on him. So much trust held in that young gaze of yours. He now understood the position Lady Dorothy was in when she had him. “Love. You must listen to me very carefully.”

He taps his cheek as he continues, only focused on you, his child. “You must keep this information to yourself. Only speak of it with me.”

You blink tilting your head, “But what about Wilardo-”

He gently shushes you.”Let me handle it, Alright?”

After a moment you smile, giving him a squeeze, feeling him relax as you do.

Should my suspicions be correct my little tea leaf. I won’t let this all happen again.. He mused as he simply pat your head, returning the hug.

Noel:

Stress, this is a fantastic word to describe what your father goes through upon learning this information from Claire.

He had thought it was all over, that things had been wrapped up since their time in the mansion but to hear of this now only gave him whiplash as his chest only seized. Bringing his wife into his arms, remembering it all again.

Of course Claire was familiar with this reaction. He’d often wake up this way and go into a panic attack for a good while until she was able to quell him.

Claire hums idly, combing his hair and urging him to look at her.

“It’s ok Noel,” She continues softly. “Focus on me. We can protect them. We can do anything together, remember?”

The tension in his shoulders hadn’t subsided but damn if he didn’t cling to her. Losing her so many times had been one thing but losing the fruit of their love would ruin him beyond what you could begin to imagine.

He loved her so much, he loved you. Something he believed he could never have but also at first wasn’t sure that he even wanted.

Though after laying eyes on you in Claire’s arms for the very first time, he couldn’t begin to imagine a world without you or her in it.

For a while, Noel believed the only family he could ever have would be Sirius and Claire. Though now after the fact he was surrounded by more friends of which he could have originally imagined and his beautiful wife and child.

Claire brings him to the window, so they could both look at you as you play outside. Sitting in that small flower patch in front of the cottage.

His shoulders slack upon seeing you safe. That’s all he’s focused on, your safety, your happiness.

He want’s you to live, just as much as he wants her to live.

And he’ll be damned if anything happened to either of you.

~Mod Sirius