#ohhh i am going to burn myself out if i color all of these

[mushimatsu]

Trick or treat~ I'm C.C. from Code Geass :3c

“Ah— I recognize you! Cosplayers are always so impressive…”

(you get a matcha kitkat)

[kim-miyeon]

Hell Above-Chapter Two

PAIRINGS: Hwang Hyunjin X Female Reader

WARNINGS: Mafia!AU, strong explicit language, family problems, pregnancy,  mentions of birth control, angst, mentions of murder, alcohol, cigarettes,  18+

WORD COUNT: 4.1K

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I Know You’re Tortured Within, Your Eyes Look Hungry Again.

You pushed your hand into the door of the rundown bar, emitting light into its darkness from the outside. The smell of liquor and smoke from lit cigarettes stung your nose as your eyes gazed at the immediate sight of drunks who never made it out from the night before.  Your sight was darkened more due to the gold rimmed sunglasses that held on the bridge of your nose, as your eyes rummaged through the area until they spotted the far table with your cousins sitting. Strutting towards the table, the sound of your heels gaining attention from the lowlife bodies of men surrounding the bar. You rolled your eyes as you passed by and finally reached the table where Seungmin, Minho, Felix and Jeongin all sat.  All four boys stood from their seats to formally greet you as you nodded softly and grabbed the empty chair in front of you to take your seat. As they followed, you brought your arm in front of you , bending it to get a close view of the rose gold watch that rested on your wrist. The time changed to 9:00 AM and you smiled softly looking up at the boys you were waiting for you.  You licked your lips and reached to remove the glasses off your face before folding them and setting it on the table. You leaned back and crossed your arms firmly. 

“I know it's a Saturday morning and we would all rather be anywhere else but here, so lets make it brief.” You advised as you snapped your head to Felix, “What do you have?” 

“Body was disposed of at the location, like you wanted. Police arrived this morning to investigate but the public won’t receive any more information that just another murder in the streets.” Felix informed as he handed you a photo of the crime scene. You extended your hand and grabbed the sheet to look and saw the remnants of ash in a pile by the train tracks. Burned. A form of execution that you found liberating. A way to mark your territory and erase any evidence. All that could remain was the teeth of the victim, but you knew better than to allow such evidence to be kept at the scene of the crime, even when you owned the police. Scanning the photo more, you managed to look at a train cart that stood in the background and to your delight, was a perfect stroke of the letter ‘L’. 

“L for Lee.” You cocked your eyebrow up and looked at Felix who smiled.

“Written in our color, using real material,” Felix emphasized and you nodded pleasantly. 

Blood Red. It was the long standing color of the Lee Family. One that bonded the family together and also was a message to anyone who would know. But to use the blood of the victim as a marking of a murder was the way the Lee’s had practiced their executions for generations, and with the silence of the family, you had managed to make sure that it was incorporated in subtle ways. It helped to know that your money paid the detectives who otherwise would pass along information to other gang leaders, people who could out the Lee Family. Each case of a murder had its own form of marking, this one being the first to truly state something bold. 

“It’s definitely a message for Y.” You handed the picture back to Felix.

“Someone who also had a message for us,” You turned your gaze to Seungmin who spoke up, “He knew you’d kill that man and bring the body there.”

“I can’t say that I’m shocked to hear that,” You smirked “What riddle did he send this time?”

Seungmin handed you a manila envelope and you took it. Opening it to feel a thick piece of paper, you let your fingers pull it out. Your eyes scanned the sheet that was filled with large dots and dashes. The way it looked could cause anyone a headache. It was so much on one page, you hated the way it looked. 

“Morse code?” You looked at Seungmin, in disbelief. “He wants us to decode a morse code message? What the fuck is this guy on?”

“That’s what I’m saying.” Felix chimed in annoyed and you shook your head. 

“How long do you think it will take you to solve it?” You questioned Seungmin as he  took the page back and analyzed it, sucking in air between his teeth. 

“A few hours maybe, definitely by the end of the day. I have other things to work on too. ” He stated and you nodded your head in confirmation. 

“Do that then,” You finally looked over to Minho who had been quiet the whole time and completely unengaged. You watched as he sat back and tapped his fingers against the table and you grew annoyed. He was always like this, so cold. Distant and bluntly just mean. You could tell that he wanted to say something but was holding back, probably trying to prevent another screaming match. You both had been head to head for years and even though you did love him, he managed to make your blood boil just by the way he looked. You sighed loudly.

“Something eating you, Minho?” You asked and he stopped tapping his fingers on the table and slowly looked up at you. You continued, “You look aggravated.”

“I’m fine.” He muttered softly.

“Did you take care of the associates like I asked?”

He scoffed, “You think I can just commit a mass murder of 100+ men overnight without raising the ears of our enemies?”

You tilted your head in an innocent way, “I don’t know,” You paused, “ I assume that you have it under control, am I right?”

“I do have it under control,” He growled. 

“Well, with each second that passes, more of those fuckers keep talking.” You clicked your tongue and Minho looked at you darkly. 

“With each second that passes, one of those leaders are gonna see that message and begin planning.” Minho spat.

“Ohhh, so that’s why you're upset. You don’t like our little message?” You grabbed the photo of the crime scene and looked at it again in amusement. “I think it’s a lovely message to Y.”

“IT’S AN IRRESPONSIBLE MESSAGE,” Minho slammed his hands on the table and yelled at you as you looked up at him coolly. “Y is not the only one after us, Y/N. There are others, like your beloved little husband.

You clenched your jaw tightly at the mention of Hyunjin. Minho shook his head in aggravation. 

“What is even taking you so long Y/N? The longer he stays alive the longer we all have to keep this shit secretive. What are you waiting for?” Minho snapped and then took a quick pause glaring his eyes at you, “Are you not strong enough to pull the trigger? Is that it? Does your little Hyunjin dick you down so well that you can’t find another fuck buddy, huh?”

You slammed the table and stood up angrily. All the boys held in their breath and you took a slow inhale as you tried to bring yourself to a place of peace. You exhaled audibly and you opened your eyes to look back at the table and then directly to Minho. 

“Okay. Everyone listen to me.” You waited for each boy to look at you before you began. “I respect and love each one of you. We are family first and our blood bonds us and makes us strong. You have stood by my side all these years and I am thankful for that.” 

You saw Felix flash an innocent smile and Jeongin nodding his head in agreement to your words. Minho deterred his gaze from you and Seungmin bit his lip preparing for your next words. 

“However, none of you are Won Shik’s child, I am. And my father died and left me with this organization, with my mission. I am the rightful leader of the Lee Family and this is a business and you all work for me. It is not the other way around.” You looked to Minho aggressively. “Hwang Hyunjin will stay alive for as long as I want him to. And if any of you have a problem with that,” You halted and  looked around the table at the boys who were in slight fear of your indirect threats. “I suggest you keep that shit to yourself.” 

You sat back down and watched Minho stand and walk away from the table. You rolled your eyes and Seungmin called out for Minho as you rested your hand on his, shaking your head for him to just let Minho go. You turned your gaze to Jeongin and Felix.

“Speaking about my husband, how was his trip?” 

“Well, you’d be happy to know that he is about to finalize a million dollar contract.” Felix laughed a bit.

“A million dollars I’ll never see.” You leaned back into your chair.

“Still not as much as you thought” Jeongin cutely stated and you snickered,

“Money I can’t even flaunt,” You stated as you gathered yourself, “But I can use it for groceries. I gotta go and pick up some stuff so I will take my leave.” 

“Can I come with you?” Jeongin asked and you smiled.

“Always little one” You patted his head and he smiled back. You looked to Seungmin and Felix who all stood up, “Morse code by tonight?”

“Promise.” Seungmin stated and you smiled. 

“See you all later.” You turned to walk with Jeongin by your side. 

As you walked out of the bar and towards your car, you opened the door and sat in. Jeongin sat next to you and you groaned out.

“He is SO entitled. Why is he such a fucking asshole?” You ranted, more to yourself but loud enough that Jeongin heard.

“He cares alot about you.” Jeongin reassured and you looked at him. “Minho just has a strange way of showing it.”

“He doesn’t care about me. He only cares about himself.” You huffed, “What about the family?”

“Safe. In police protection, set to deport the country.” 

You closed your eyes in relief and then took Jeongin’s hand in comfort. “Thank you Jeongin. I am so sorry that I keep asking you-”

“No Y/N. Don’t apologize.” 

“Jeongin I’m serious. It’s not right of me to keep putting you in those situations, I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you.” Jeongin took a hold of your shoulders and made sure you looked at him.

“Nothing is going to happen to me. I will always do what you need me to do. We are family, it's what we do.” You nodded at him and sighed softly. Your phone alarm began to ring through the silence and you whined.

“It’s that time.” You chuckled, pulling your phone to snooze your alarm and reaching into the middle console and pulling out a small packet of pills. Popping on into your hand, you placed the pill in your mouth and dry swallowed it. Jeongin watched the whole scene and after you were done you looked at his sad eyes and laughed. 

“What’s wrong with you?” 

“Why do you take those?” He asked. 

You looked at him in confusion, “ Birth control? Obviously, so I don’t get pre-”

“That’s not what you want.” He interrupted and immediately you felt sadness run through you.

“You know I can’t have a child, Jeongin. It would be chaos.”

“What if a child was the only way?” he responded.  You turned your head, “What if having a child was the only way to end the feud? Giving birth to the heir of both families?”

“The feud can never be ended Jeongin, a child would only cause problems.”

“The love you and Hyunjin have is not fake, what you two have is real and powerful. They say love overcomes hate. You two could unite and bring peace. You wouldn’t have to complete your mission and you two could live, happily, with a family.” He optimistically recommended and you looked down at your wedding ring that rested on your finger. Jeongin’s hopeful words made you sad at the harsh reality of your life. Jeongin sighes in a mixture of frustration and sadness. 

“You deserve to be happy Y/N. You don’t want this.”

You started the car and you nodded. Jeongin had always been your rock, the person who knew you better than anyone. He knew your heart and where you stood. The love you have for Hyunjin, how you wanted to be normal. You hated living this life, but what choice did you have? You were born into this, this was your fate and Hyunjin was your enemy. One day you’ll have to kill him, you knew that one day you wouldn't be able to live your life with him. You couldn’t grow old together, you won’t start a family. It hurt you. This was not what you wanted. 

“I don’t get to be happy.”  

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

Hyunjin walked through the kitchen and laughed softly at the mess you two made the night before. All the silverware on the ground and food left out made Hyunjin remember how he felt to have you again. Even though he was gone for a short time, it felt like a lifetime for him. There was something exuberating about being in your arms and having you close. It was like your heart beats were in sync when you two were together. It never ceased to amaze him how you were like his soulmate. Reaching down to grab some of the utensils on the ground, a knock broke the silence in the house and Hyunjin shot back up. Looking at the time, 9:04 AM. He surely didn’t think his wife was back from running her errands for the day. 

Walking over towards the door, Hyunjin grabbed the handle and pulled it open.

“Yo Yo Yo!” The brown headed guy exclaimed and smiled as Hyunjin leaned back in surprise.

“Jisung! What are you doing here?” Hyunjin asked as the two quickly hugged and Jisung pulled back.

“Came to welcome you back and give you some updates, is the wife home?” Jisung asked suspiciously.

“No she went out to run some errands, come in” Hyunjin walked leading Jisung into the house, “Sorry for the mess by the way.”

Jisung looked at the mess in the kitchen and smirked, “Doesn’t seem like a lot of eating went on last night.”

Hyunjin playfully glared at Jisung and Jisung held his hands in the air in defeat, “Sorry, sorry. But he congrats on the contract negotiations this week. Hell, you get any richer and I might have to marry you.”

“Hey, she doesn’t know about it so hush.” Hyunjin warned and Jisung nodded, “What do you have?”

“Confirmation that the Lee Family is operating. Take a look.” Jisung pulled out his phone to show Hyunjin the photo of the crime scene by the tracks.

“I assume that that is not just a pile of random ash, anyone could have burned a body.” 

“Not the body, the train cart.” Jisung pointed and Hyunjin’s eyes grew wider as the realization, “Blood red. ‘L’. So it’s a message.” 

“It’s something. Blood red is a Lee Family color. Maybe it’s a message for us, it's almost been twenty years since the death of Won-Shik. A new heir would be old enough to take reign.” Jiung informed. 

Hyunjin’s mind went red. The inkling and the thought of his natural born enemy gave him an profound adrenaline. It was always just a rumor, a plan in the shadows, that if the Lee Family had an heir, Hyunjin would be the one to end him. It had always been an image in his head to claim that kind of power, to never let the Lee Family come back. Generations of leaders all look to Hyunjin to lead the family to its greatest potential. 

“If a new leader is here, then we better get to moving on it.” Hyunjin stated, “Does my father know about this?’

“Uh I don’t think so, but um…” Jisung trailed off and Hyunjin looked at him concerningly. 

“What Ji?” 

“You’re father did come by the office this week...asking a lot of questions...” Hyunjin froze in fear. 

“What kind of questions?” 

“If you’re considering any one to marry, like any of the women he recommended. You’re coming to the age where you have to.. you know.” Jisung stood there awkwardly.  Hyunjin sighed frustratingly. 

“Maybe it’s time to tell Y/N.” Jisung suggested and Hyunjin stood there biting his lip.

He couldn’t just tell you. How could he tell you. “I can’t Ji.”

“She’s not gonna leave you.” 

“How would you tell the woman of your dreams that you are the leader of the biggest mafia gangs in the world? How do you tell her that you aren’t a PR representative and that you go out of town to make illegal deals with other gangs? That we can afford to live in a house triple if not quadruple the size as this one. There’s blood on my hands Ji, I’ve killed more people than I care to count. How do I tell her?” Hyunjin proclaimed at Jisung and Jisung hung his head down.

“What are you going to do about a future heir?” He asked concerningly. 

Hyunjin ran his hands through his hair, “She can’t have kids.”

“What?” Jisung asked shocked, “I didn’t know that.”

“She’s infertile. We’ve tried but she... just can’t” Hyunjin’s demeanor grew sad and Jisung nodded. 

“If she loves you the way I know she does, I think she will be understanding of your situation.” Jisung stated and Hyunjin shook his head in agreement, just to end the conversation, “ I do have to get going though, and you, my guy, need to get cleaning.”

Jisung patted Hyunjin’s back as he headed towards the front door. Hyunjin stood there in the middle of the kitchen mess and rested his hands against the island in front of him, lowering his head down and groaning in frustration. He hated it. All of it. When you came into his life, he never wanted to protect another human in the way he wanted to protect you. You made him feel secured and safe, and all he has ever wanted was someone to love him for him. Not for the money and the luxury that came with who he was. Hyunjin knew by getting involved with you early on that perhaps one day he'd have to come clean. Then some days, he just wants to take your hand and run far away and live a life without all of the damage. Jisung’s optimism for you was so high, but Hyunjin knew it wouldn’t be that easy. He didn’t want to lose you. He can never lose you. 

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

You took another sip of your red wine as you focused into the television that was playing recurring advertisements. Your legs curled up on the couch with a blanket resting over you and you heard the sound of the water from the sink turn off. Looking over to see Hyunjin drying his hands after washing all the dishes, you smiled in content as you looked back over to the tv and felt your phone buzz in your lap. 

SM: The morse code message is almost done. 

You read Seungmin’s text and you clicked your phone off when you heard the floor creak from Hyunjin walking towards you. You raised your head and saw him make a beeline behind the couch, approaching you. He stood behind you and his long fingers grazed your neck up and down and you moaned into the touch. You leaned your head back and he bent down to place kisses on your lips. His thick lips taking all of you with him as he tried to deepen the kiss but you laughed and he laughed with you in response. 

“Thank you for dinner” You whispered against him and he kissed you again. 

“Hmm.” He groaned as he kissed you a final time, pulling back and making his way around to sit next to you on the couch. 

You pulled your legs away to sit in front of you as he laid his body across the couch and rested his head on your lap. Your hand naturally rested on top of his head, and your fingers began to stroke through his soft locks. He hummed into your legs as he let you play with his hair. You smiled softly at the whole scene. This is what you lived and craved for, small moments with him that filled your happiness. He meant everything to you and you never wanted to be a second without him. 

Your phone buzzed again and you picked it up to read the messages. 

SM: Done. 

FX: What did it say?

SM: “ When the clock strikes upon the new day, won’t you meet me under the stars?”

MH: Of course, he’s not gonna give us anymore than that. 

FX: It is a riddle though, not very far from before. 

MH: It’s aggravating. We don’t know what it means. 

JN: Maybe it has something to do with constellations? Or something about the moon? 

You: Could be Jeongin, let’s look into that. 

You sat your phone down and aimed your eyes back at your husband who was watching the news for the night. You looked back up at the screen and then saw the news report.

“And we have some breaking news tonight, a community in fear after learning about a potential homicide by the local train station. Police were called to the site after complaints of a stench was called in, some believing a body had been burned.” 

“That’s crazy.” Hyunjin mumbled out and you stared sternly at the program, intrigued by how your most recent kill made a debut on television. 

“What is?” You asked back.

“That someone could kill a human by burning their body.” He said softly and you mentally scoffed at the sudden change of heart he grew from watching the scene. You knew that Hyunjin put up an innocent act when you were together. How every time a murder was casted on the news, he act like it was the worst thing. However,  you also knew that he had committed murders far more gruesome than you and allowed the bodies to be shown more publicly.  

Hyunjin shifts his head to look at you and you respond by looking down at him. 

“I would never let anyone hurt you like that.” He pouted and you chuckled to yourself and caressed his soft face. 

“You’re so silly Jinnie,” you smiled at him and he shifted back over to face the tv again. 

“Well, the event of the year is right around the corner and we are very excited about it!” The newscaster exclaimed as she looked at her co-caster.

“That’s right, the 72nd Annual Charity Ball Event is in two weeks and today we have brought the Chairwoman of the Ball, Young Mi Hyuk with us to announce the theme of this year's event.”

“Isn’t that the ball you go to Hyunjin?” You asked and Hyunjin groaned. 

“Unfortunately.” He grumbled, “ Another year of fancy cocktails and blood sucking pieces of shit I guess.” 

“Well maybe the theme will be fun this year.” You insured as you paid attention to the women on the screen. 

“We are very excited and honored to host another year of the The Charity Ball and we have worked very hard on developing a theme to accentuate what a special night it will be,” The chairwoman spoke in octaves to try and seem more excited than she actually cared to be. You knew that those who went to the ball did not care about charity, they only cared about reeling money in for themselves. You watched as the women grew anxious about the reveal and it happened so suddenly that you almost thought you went deaf. The way the words left her mouth felt unreal, exquisitely unique. It was hard to believe. You simply couldn’t believe it. 

“This years’ theme... ‘Under the Stars’.”

******** 

A/N: WOW so sorry this took forever to come out. It’s a bit short and underwhelming but I promise its gonna get good. I’m thinking of doing a taglist if people are interested. Please let me know! Also don’t be afraid to share your thoughts, I really wanna know my readers:) Okay until next week! -KMY

[madllamamomma]

The Visitor~ Part 6

Muriel x Rhemi (OC) fanfic

[WARNING: Some topics can be triggering to some readers including, mention of violence, blood/gore, mental health issues, abuse, etc.]

Part 6~

Ghosts~

In the palace, Sir Martin sits quietly in the green chair next to the fire. His daughter should be here any moment. The cracking of the burning wood alway relaxed him, eventually making his eyes heavy… Soon he drifts to sleep.

As he opens his eyes, he finds himself sitting on an old rickety chair that looks like it's about to break at any moment. With an annoyed scoff, his eyes look around, he is in a terribly drabby house, full of holes in the straw roof where the sunlight shines through and mice hide in the walls. He always hated this place--Despised is more like it. He absolutely hated when his dreams would drift him back here to this often empty house. But then, she walks into the room, her hands full with the heavy laundry basket… His hatred drifted away.

She was a beautiful young woman, no older than eighteen, her hair s burgundy brown and curly, pulled back into a handkerchief and her gorgeous teal blue eyes and wearing commoner’s clothes with a dingy apron around her waist. Just like always, she acted like it was just another ordinary day and as cheery as ever.

“Well! Good morning, my little rabbit.” She says with a smile as she sits and folds the laundry.

“..... Morning.” Martin gently replies, unable to keep his eyes off of her.

“Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

He swallows hard and shakes his head. He knows this is just a dream. “Why… Why does this keep happening?”

For a moment she stops folding, and looks up at him with such gleaming and loving eyes, tilting her head and looking at Martin with such concern.

“Why here?.... Why this moment?” He frustratedly mutters. “And not any other moment. Just…. This. One?”

The young woman sighs and lightly shrugs, shaking her head. “... You tell me, little rabbit.”

Martin tries to stand up from his chair, but like always, he is stuck in one place. Angry, he tries and tries but something is keeping him here in this one spot.

“You know that doesn’t help any.” She says sadly. “It never has…”

A deep sigh expels from his lungs again as he finally accepts his situation and his eyes peer back to the young woman, pain in his cold teal eyes. “..... Why didn’t you just stay home that day?” He asks with gritted teeth and folded hands. “I... I told you not to go.”

Tears start to well in her eyes as she looks at him silently, slowly standing to her feet. The house just evaporates, replaying it with a foggy gray atmosphere. “Why didn’t you come with me?” She whispers as her feet lift off the ground.

An eerie high pitch ringing overwhelming his ears as she keeps staring at him as she stops levitating about three feet from the ground. A terrifying crack emanates from her neck as it snaps quickly to the right.

Martin shutters stifling his tears, shutting his eyes tightly and turning his head away from the horror. But suddenly feels himself waking up from the warm licks from Beatrix’s tongue.

------

Fluttering his eyes open, he finds Beatrix in his lap, looking at him slightly concerned. “Little Piegon’s here, Master.” Her scratchy voice mutters in his head.

Martin rubs his tired eyes, and smoothing back his plum and gray hair. “Thank you, Bea.”

Waiting patiently, Martin stares into the fire, in deep thought, wondering why his dreams keep taking him to that dreadful day. If it wasn’t that dream, it was always about Florence and Rhemielia. The night that she and their child were whisked away. All the while he was trapped underneath a pile of fiery debris, and his skin burning his right arm.

---------- Later that day-----

As Rhemi steadily makes her way back to the shop, taking three times as long. Her lack of oxygen is taking its toll on her. “This….. fucking thing!….” She huffs to herself, gasping for air in between her thoughts as she takes a seat on a nearby barrel. “...*huff*  Fuck….*huff*.... This…*huff*...*huff*..... Corset!”

After getting adequate rest, she stands to her feet and clasps the small part of her waist feeling the corset digging into the tops of her hip bones.

“... Fuck this dress. Fuck that Oliver guy. Fuck this day...” She grumbles to herself under her breath, attempting to ignore all the wide eyed stares from the citizens she passes, hoping that no one would recognize her. “Fuckthisfuckthisfuckthisfuckthisfuckthisfuckthis….” She grumbles to herself, face beat red. “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.”

Finally, the shop was within her sight as the sun was setting over the city. It took so long to get here! Rhemi thinks to herself, realizing that the lamplighters are hard at work lighting the dark streets. She left the palace around three o’clock, it's probably almost five or so now. If anything came out of this, it’s respect for the poor aristocrats in Charlès who actually wore this stuff on the regular bases! Why would anyone want to wear this stuff everyday? Did Mum really wear this crap? This is awful!

Opening the door to the shop never felt so good. God, I can’t wait to get inside! I am so happy to be home. She rejoiced in her head. Finally home! Three different voices muffled on the other side of the door. Rhemi knew right away who they all belonged to. Then, a horrible thought comes to mind as she turns the key in the lock after taking down the protection spell. ….Oh no….. Oh god!.... What the hell are they gonna say about this abomination??

Then again…. she was so tired at this point, she didn’t really care. The pain of the corset outweighed the pain of her friend's judgement. With as much air as she could fill in her restricted lungs, she bravely opens the door, all three pairs of eyes immediately falling on her.

Asra excitedly starts to greet his friend with a brilliant smile. “Hey! There she is! Welcome…” But then stops as he sees her, his eyes wide, his smile crumples into a shocked snicker.

The lively chattering that filled the room suddenly ceases, the only thing that can be heard is the creaking of the rusty hinges of the shop door as it shuts behind her.

Awkwardly, Rhemi just stands in the doorway as Asra, Faust, Muriel, and Julian just stare at her. None of them could help but stifle their laughs at the overly fluffy dress that she’s wearing.

Julian opens and closes his mouth attempting to formulate a sentence.“That's… errr….. It’s… Ummm-aahhhhh..” He stammers as he rubs his face, searching for a compliment. But of course, Asra stands next to him, covering his smile with his clasped hands and eyes wide, his thoughts very apparent.

Looking silently between them all, realizing that they were trying to be as kind about it as possible. “.... It’s fucking atrocious, isn’t it?” Rhemi finally verbally admits with a half straight face.

“It’s a goddamn travesty is what it is.” Asra spits out as soon as she completes her sentence. All four of them stand there silently all waiting how’d be the first to crack.

Suddenly, all of them sputter into hard laughter at the same time, breaking the terrible silence.

“My god!.... What the hell is this thing anyways??” Julian adds overdramatically gesturing to the hips. “Rhemi-dear, are you wearing ….crinoline??”

“... Crino-What??” Muriel mumbles as he squints his eyes.

“It’s a type of tortuous device placed under dresses that a deranged idiot designed to make your hips look inhumanly large.” She replies nonchalantly as attempts to reach back for the buttons, trying to contort herself to do so. But, try as she might, the poor apprentice couldn’t reach without completely tearing the sleeves. However, as stubborn as she is, she continues to try to reach in hope to get out of this over-tightened corset. All at the same time, Muriel, Asra, and Julian try to figure out the reason why she’s wearing the damn overly extravagant monstrosity.

“....There are… So… many bows….” Muriel mutters as tugs at one to study it, seemingly not liking the texture and his face hilariously cringing hard.

“Oh… I know!….. It’s bad, huh, Muri?”

“Reallllllly bad.”

“Did you lose a bet, Rem?” Asra teases, still laughing his ass off.

“Nooooooo,” A whine emanates from her mouth and her bottom lip pops out. Despite her cute pout, the corner of the lips still twist up into a grin making her slightly look like a duck. Slightly frustrated, but also entertained by her stupid situation, she sighs deeply and slouches as much as she could (given her restrictive outfit).

About having enough of trying, she huffs feeling rather defeated, but still smiles at her friends. “If you three are gonna keep dishing out colorful insults, you might as well help me out of it... I can’t freakin’ breathe!”

“... Yo-... You can’t get out by yourself, Rem??” Muriel snorts, forcefully hiding a very amused smile, trying to politely withhold a bellowing laugh at her situation. “Sorry… It’s not funny.” He mumbles as he presses his lips together even tighter.

“Do you really think I would have come home with this... thing if I could take it off myself?? It took… like…. Five people to get me in this abomination!”

“Are you.... Errr…. Decent underneath all of it?” Julian warily asks, his eye quickly glancing towards Muriel while he wasn’t looking.

“Don’t worry Ilya, you’ve seen more at the beach. I have a shift or… or slip…? -Whatever it’s called under the corset.” Say says lifting up the dreaded skirt showing the many layers of cloth on her body. “Pft! This bitch has so many layers, it puts our wedding cake to shame.”

“Oh god.” Muriel chuckles, his laughter making his broad shoulder shake, not doing a very good job to keep it in.

“Ohhh! Shut your face!” Rhemi playfully smacks her finacè’s stomach. “Now, please! Get me out of this damn thing! I feel like my boobs are suffocating me! Do you guys want me to die from titty asphyxiation?!”

“I’d argue that it wouldn't be a bad demise!” The doctor chuckles with his dubious smile of his.

“Shuddup Ilya!” Rhemi playfully elbows her friend, slightly knocking the wind out of him.

But he continues to laugh and laugh,as he holds his stomach nearly hyperventilating. “..We-.... We’ll write on your tombstone, ...‘Here lies Rhemi… Escaped death once from the plague to die from a common corset.’..”

Asra chortles, nearly crying now as Faust happily hisses, “Rhemi a tent!”

Out of the sea of laughter, Rhemi finds herself feeling more light headed, unable to contain her giggles either. “Hey! Less talkie, more unbutton-ie! I am literally dying over here! I am not joking when I said that I nearly passed out a few times over here. I left around three!”

The mountain man’s face suddenly becomes more serious as she says that, his laughter completely silenced “Wait…. Really?? Are… you ok?”

“I mean… I made it here, didn’t I?” She says with a shrug and a half grin.

A warm grumble rumbles from his lips as he mutters, “That’s not…”

“—Alright, alright, alright! Turn around, ya big baby.” Asra teases her, finally feeling pity for her. “Let’s get you out of this thing… Then we’ll have a bonfire. Haha!”

It took some time, but after some troubleshooting and a bit of magic, the three managed to peel the dress, the extra layers, and the crinoline off, leaving only her tight overbust, and a shift underneath. With surgical hands, Julian and Asra loosened the loops.

Finally, the corset was loosened, Rhemi took in a large breath of fresh air as if she had just made love. “Ahhhhhhhh~ Sooooo much better.”

“Better wait a few minutes before loosening it again.” Julian adds with a serious doctor face. “Don’t want you actually passing out.”

“Tha-that's a thing that can happen??” A very wary Muriels asks.

“Why, yes! If you let it out too quickly, you can pass out… Your blood pressure can drop and leave a person unconscious. Happened a few times to the actors at the theater.”

“That's….. Worrisome.” Muriel says as his eyes fall on his fiancée again, and pointing to the corset. “You never told me these things were hazardous.”

Unable to contain herself, Rhemi takes her lover’s large hand and holds it with both of hers with an empathetic expression. He’s so cute. “Aww! I never wear them this tight, honey! I like the way my corsets look and feel on my body. But this one is garbage!”

“Actually it’s not that bad.” Julian says peeling away the cloth and exposing the boning structure underneath. “.....It’s made out of whale bone! It’s expensive and very strong. It’s just not your size.”

“Oh! Speaking of expensive, that reminds me.” Julian takes out Rhemi’s coin purse and hands it back to her, only a few coins used. “I believe this belongs to you.”

It takes a few moments before she realizes that the doctor never used her money last night, she instantly pouts. “Ilya!! You’re drinks were supposed to be on me you dork!”

“Rhemi-dear, what happened at tea the other day was not your fault!”

You mean ‘what my father said’. She thinks to herself. “But— My father— it wasn’t right what he—”

“—You can’t control what that basta—.. dahhhhhhh errrrrr... I mean…. What he says.”

“... Nice save.” Asra whispers to his lover.

“I never got the chance to tell you how sorry I am. I… I kinda regret inviting him. Tea was just so awkward. It should have been just us, like Nadia planned it.”

Julian wraps his long arms around Rhemi’s shoulders for a friendly hug. “Please don’t apologize. I’ve honestly heard worse.”

“I’m still sorry it happened.”

“Hey, don't worry about it. It’s not worth it.” He then moves his arm and takes a seat in the velvet couch never to Asra, causing them to lazily lean on his shoulder. Slowly, Faust slithers over to Julian and he tries his best not to get chills. “So…. Ahhhh… Ya gonna tell us why you are wearing this….. Errr…. getup?”

“... My father apparently brought his own tailor on board with him… Names Oliver… real piece of freakin’ work!... My father wanted him to give the dress as a present to me. It’s apparently the latest fashion from Charlès… All the noble women wear something like it.”

“..... Sooooo… I assume that he didn’t take it too well that you two aren’t moving to Charlès.” Asra asks, handing her own clothes to her so she could get comfortable.

“Wait, he wanted you both to move??” Julian cluelessly interjects with his left eye wide.

An intense pressure suddenly overtakes Rhemi’s stomach as if gravity doubled on her intestines. How the hell is she supposed to explain what happened today? Not only did her father still want her to leave Vesuvia, but he wants her alone to move and marry someone of nobility in Charlès!

“....Actually, he was very understanding.” She flat out lies before she could stop herself.

Rhemi, what are you doing?? She screams internally. Why are you lying again?!

“... He was of course disappointed, but he was very respectful about it!” She continues as if her mouth had a mind of its own, her body posture scarily calm and believable. “... But it’s best not to mention it to him… He’s still very disappointed. Might spark a nerve with him. Ya know?”

Asra and Julian exchange a surprised look as they hear this. Julian rubs the back of his hand and sighs, “He doesn’t seem to be the understanding type--”

“—Well, he might surprise you.” Rhemi defensively interrupts. “He might be very posh and rigid on the outside…. But I know, deep down he just cares about me.”

Muriel stares down at her with his knowing emerald eyes completely unconvinced as she walks past him to head upstairs to get changed. She dared not look at him for too long. He had a way of making her break. But how could she explain this to him? To…. well, anyone?? Her father didn’t even acknowledge that she was getting married.

No. She just…. Has to fix this before anyone knows. She had to.

———————

After Rhemi got dressed, the four of them all had a nice dinner that Muriel and Asra whipped up. It was chicken souvlaki wrapped in a pita and other greens.

After that, the two couples went their separate ways for the night. Asra and Julian stayed at the shop, while Rhemi and Muriel went back home to the hut.

She feared that he might bring up what she said before dinner, about her father accepting thor decision not to leave. He always knows when she’s bullshitting. That's the problem when you get to know someone so well. It's a sixth sense, knowing something is wrong.

But to her surprise, he stayed quiet. She reads a book on the bed as he whittles next to Inanna by the fire. Eventually, her eye starts to become heavy and she shuts her books and gets into her nightgown. Muriel follows her lead. Soon, all three get comfortable in the bed, taking their normal positions. Rhemi on the left side of the bed, Muriel at the right, and Inanna at the foot. The apprentice always laid on his bare chest snuggling up and getting warm.

“I love you, Muriel.” She whispers.

Muriel yawns, “... I love you too, Rhemi…” Thinking he's drifting off to sleep, she starts to close her eyes as well and feel herself falling asleep. “.... Was he really okay with us not moving?” He finally whispers.

Rhemi's heart drops, but she just stays there silent and still, pretending to be asleep.

The hermit lets out a frustrated sigh, before placing a feather light kiss on her forehead. “.... Please just don’t forget I want you to talk to me.”

….. I know…. She thinks to herself. I want to tell you. But… I’m scared that might make things worse. I’m sorry, Muri. I don’t want to lie to you… But I have to fix this by myself before you know the truth.

Finally, all of them start to drift to sleep, Muriel finds himself in the realm of dreams, his father waiting for him yet again, waiting to show him what he was capable of in the realm of dreams.

All the while Rhemi stays put, in a dreamless state, but finds herself waking up almost every hour from a twinging pain in her temples. She could swear she was hearing distant voices.

———The next morning———

A very groggy Rhemi finally wakes up from the sun peering into the window. Sitting up, in the bed, she realized that Muriel and Inanna were already up and started the day. Glancing over to the table, some fresh flowers and herbs were waiting for her and a note that read, "Get some rest." She couldn’t help but smile despite feeling so terrible. The headaches are getting worse and worse lately. Even when she wakes up, it's like a hammer is knocking on the side of her temples. Luckily, it would dissipate as the day went on, but it was such a nuisance to start off the day like this. At least she didn’t have any dreams last night…

Slowly, she gets up and walks over to the washing washing bowl, trying to get more energized for the day. This was one of her installations when she moved into the hut. It was a little table (taller than most for her sweet Muriel) with a washing bowl, a pitcher and a mirror from the shop. It must have been her mother’s. It was the one thing that didn’t necessarily match the other decor from the shop. Pouring a liberal amount of freshwater, she starts washing her face. The cool water felt nice on her temples. As she glances back up to the mirror to make herself look more alive, she notices someone behind her.

Summoning her magic quickly into her hands, she conjures a defensive spell as she whips around silently. But as soon as she turns around, no one is there. The door is locked, and she can still hear Muriel cutting wood. “.... Must have been my imagination.”

Turning back to the mirror yet again to look at her reflection. But instead of her own face, she sees her eyes bloodshot red and short hair, her expression bleak and sad.

“.... Headache again?” A voice mumbles to her sadistically from the reflection.

“AHHHHH!!!” Shocked, Rhemi yelps a terrified scream, punching the mirror out of instinct. The vision and the pieces of glass shatter into pieces. Immediately, she regretted her reaction. She tucks her hand into her chest in pain, her knuckles bloody, and the mirror is broken. Looking at the shards on the ground, all she can see is her own reflection in the small fragments. What… what the fuck was that?

“RHEMI?!” Muriel cries out from behind the hut.

“.... Shit….” Quickly Rhemi jumps up and carefully takes the mirror off the wall and places it on the floor to make it look like it just fell down. The last thing she wanted was to think that she was losing her mind. Besides, people see things all the time, it doesn’t mean you're crazy… right??

“RHEMI !” Muriel shouts as he bursts in the hut, his large ax still in hand. As soon as he sees the blood, his eyes get even wider and swirling with fear. “Y-... You’re bleeding!”

“Ahhh!” She shouts, waving her hand to keep him away. “Don’t let Nana in here! T-There's glass everywhere!”

Examining the damage, Muriel shakes his head bewildered. “Rem... What happened?”

“... Ohhmygosh!! HaHa! So dumb!... Completely my fault! I was trying to straighten the stupid mirror and I apparently…. It fell off the nail! I… I didn’t catch it in time and it broke, and I screamed.”

He starts to slightly relax, but still looks pretty anxious. “.... You okay?”

“Yeah! I just cut myself a little on the glass is all! Just a little scratch, nothing I can’t fix~!”

Taking a single step inside he sets the ax down outside and reaches his hand for her. “.... Let me at least help—”

“It’s fine, Love!” She says as she conjures her magic to clean the pieces up and place them back into the mirror. “See? No problem!”

Begrudgingly he huffs, and starts to step out of the doorway before pausing. “.... Get dressed. I’ll make breakfast. You just …. sit…. alright?.... Don’t go near anything breakable…. Or sharp.” He grumpily instructs.

She snickers and nods her head. “Okay.”

As soon as the door shuts, her smile falls and she stares at her knuckle so she could heal it. Luckily, it wasn’t very deep, however it was a little long. She sits down at the table, taking a little piece of herb and summoning her magic, she starts mending her skin together. After it was all healed up a very small scar was left. It should dissipate after a while. But she just stares at it for a moment.

“Get it together, Rhemi.” She mumbles to herself as she stands to her feet to get dressed.

There's too much going on today for this bullshit. She had a plan for her father to get on board with her getting married.

--------

After a delicious breakfast, and a few sweet kisses, Muriel and Rhemi part for the day. Making her way to the shop, she concocks the perfect plan.

As expected, the shop was open and ready for business, usually Asra at the counter with a book or a potion, but today the white haired gender bastard was nowhere in sight, and the shop appeared empty.

“Hello??” She calls out. “Asra?? Faust?? You home?”

“Oh! Morning, Rhemi.” He greets from the back next to the stairs.

Realizing his location she strolls to where he was sitting on the ground and she takes off her bag. “.... Good morning. What the heck are you doing back there, ya weirdo?”

“Refusing to accept defeat.” He chuckles, wiping a little bit of sweat on his forehead. In front of him was a large chest oozing with magic and locked up tight. It read, ‘Fragile: Please handle with care’ in a familiar handwriting. In his right hand was the bundle of rusty old keys.

Curious, Rhemi tilts her head and folds her arms. “What is this?”

“Found this…” He grunts as he attempts to force another key into the lock. “... Chest… under the stairs the other day…. And…. I think it belonged to Athena…. *grunt* but no matter what I doooo…” With a heavy sigh, he gives up on that key, pulls it out of the lock and nearly collapses on his elbows. “... The damn thing won’t open. I have tried opening it with magic, I have tried every key in the shop--twice now--Hell! I even tried using a crowbar! But... nothing.”

“Huh….” She mutters. Rhemi kneels down next to her friend and the chest. Both of them stared at it for a moment. “... Well… Obviously it’s got a powerful spell on it. Athena didn’t want anyone in it.”

“Yeah… Even in death, that woman had out magic us.” The two of them giggle together on the floor. Asra draps his arms over his knees and he smiles, his mind wondering into nostalgically territory. “... I miss her.” He mumbles under his breath.

“.... I do too.” The apprentice says with a heavy heart, resting her head on his shoulder. “I…. I wish she could be here… See how much we both grew up…”

"Me too..."

The two stay there for a moment, taking it all in. The sound of the bedroom door closing at the top of the stairs brings them back to reality and Julian’s long legs descend the stairs.

“Oh! Morning, Rhemi-dear!” He says with a chipper tone.

She rolls her eyes at that name, but at this point, she just learned to accept it. “Well good morning to you too…. Someone slept in late…It’s nearly ten o’clock.” She teases.

“HA. Well…. Something kept me up all night..” The doctor glances at Asra with pink staining his cheeks and a cute smirk.

Asra smiles wide, proudly he glances back over to his friend, cheekily placing his finger to his chest. “Tee-hee…. I’m ���something’.”

Jokingly disgusted, she pushes Asra making him nearly fall over. “EWWW! Grosssssss! You two are terrible!” She laughs.

“Oh… like you and Muriel aren’t disgusting too??”

“I am not responding to that!” She loudly announces as she walks up the stairs, her face turning slightly pink herself. “I’m making some tea, don’t leave just yet Ilya!”

“Ohhhh, well ahhh.. alrighty then! If I… ahh….. If I must.” Julian happily replies as he helps Asra back to his feet. Promptly the white-haired magician presses his lips on his collar bone.

While the teapot starts to heat up, Rhemi realizes that she really didn’t have time to go to the palace or have someone deliver a message for her father. Staring at the spigot and it gives her an idea and is a good reason to flex her magical muscles. Grabbing a large bowl, she fills it with water and closes her eyes. Using all her concentration, she reaches out, searching for her father’s magic. Finally, she feels that strange metallic aura and she opens she can see her reflection being replaced with her father’s.

“P��re!” She calls out.

Confused, Martin looks away towards what she could only assume was the door. “..... Miela?” He mutters.

“Good morning, Père~” She sweetly giggles. Something about surprising another magician always made her a little giddy.

Her father turns his head once again, his eyes scanning the room. “I… I hear you Pigeon, but…. Where are you??”

“Down here!” She instructs. “In the water!”

Turning desperately left and right, he shakes his head. “The… water?” Finally he locates her and he stares in astonishment. “Ahhhhh…?”

Beatrix’s hissing and Bartholomew’s voice could be heard in the background. “.... Monsieur, vous allez bien?”

“Oh… yes. Um…. Why don’t you be a good lad and step outside, Bartholmew.”

“....Ahhh…. Oui, Monsieur.” His butler replies soundly utterly confused. "I will leave you alone with your...ah.... tea... then."

Calmly, Martin looks into his tea cup. “... Rhemielia, my child. What are you doing in my tea?”

“Kinda neat isn’t it? Asra taught me this one a while back.”

With a straight face, he slowly blinks, seemingly unimpressed. “.... Hmmmm…. Very… Charming, I suppose… I won’t recommend it in Charlès though. This is how you’d get a bad reputation for being a witch.”

“Oh….” The excitement and glee once again stomped out. But… I kinda am a witch. Awkwardly, she clears her throat, brushing off his words. “Well, ah….anyways, I contacted you this way to ask you something.”

“Oh?”

“I have to do something today next to the palace. Are you busy this afternoon around three o’clock?”

“Hmm… No… I don’t believe I am.” He says while pondering hard and tapping the tea cup.

“Well, how about you meet me there. I think you’d really enjoy it.”

A genuine soft smile takes over the Archimagister’s lips and he takes a seat on a chair. “... I always enjoy being with you, my little pigeon.”

Rhemi grins happily when he says that. He had a habit of making her feel bad sometimes, but he also could make her feel glad that he’s in her life again. Her heart flutters with excitement. She quickly gives him the address, before she could make a little small talk, the tea kettle starts to whistle and the two say their goodbyes for now.

The day went on like it did every Monday. The shop was pretty busy in the late morning and the afternoon. Mostly it was regulars getting their positions, and other things they needed before the rest of the week went on. But for Rhemi the day just dragged on. Today was the last fitting of her wedding dress. Surely, he wouldn’t be so set on her going to Charlès if he saw her in it. The dress was beautiful a-line with a button-up bodice in the back, with illusion sleeves covered in beautiful lace and organza material.

After what felt like an eternity, the time came for her fitting. Before she leaves, she pops her head into the reading room where Asra was looking at his cards by himself. It’s odd, it felt like she could hear the King of Pentacles whispering to him.

As she went for the door, she ran her fingers over the chest feeling Athena’s magic somehow felt so comforting to her. She always had a strong aura. A strange clunk comes from behind her. She glances back to inspect what had made the noise, but the chiming of the clock deters her. Whatever it is, it can wait.

_______________________________

As she reaches the tailor’s shop, she notices her father making his way down the street. His nose was buried into the piece of paper with the address on. Again, no Beatrix. It’s old how empty his shoulders looked without her.

“Père!” Rhemi calls out, waving to him.

Ungluing his eyes from his paper as she calls his name, he grins and waves back.

“How are you today?” His daughter asks sweetly.

“Very good thank you.” He replies looking at his pocket watch. As soon as he picks up his head, he reads the sign, Seamless: Pierre’s Clothing. “Oh…. You do realize I have a tailor already, correct?”

She can't help but chuckle at his unamusement as she opens the door. “I know that. This one is mine... Well, actually it's Nadia's, I'm just borrowing him.”

Martin’s eyes narrow as he enters the shop. The windows are full of outlandish and extravagant dresses and suits, but in the Vesuvian style. The old magician just sneers in revolt. “Ohhh?... Pardon me, my sweet, but I am confused...”

“I’m about to try my wedding dress on.” Martin’s body stiffens like a board and he flutters his eyes in disbelief. Rhemi could feel her cheeks heating up and feeling pressure on her chest. “And….. I uh… I wanted you to be here for my final fitting… Get you more involved… I want you to be apart of my life and--”

“—Sorry." He interrupts placing both of his hands on his cane, sticking his nose up in revolt. "Please don't tell me you were serious when you said you are going to marry that seven foot tall brute—?”

“—Muriel, Père…” Rhemi quickly interjects in disbelief. She could feel her left eyelid twitch from the stress. She just couldn’t believe him. This shit again?? Right here?? RIGHT NOW? Calmly, she folds her hands together trying to keep her patients. “.... My fiance's name is Muriel. It means 'bright' in Rune…. And yes. I am marrying him. He’s kind and genuine and trustworthy and gentle and makes me feel safe and…. And I love him.... He's my soul mate.”

Martin’s icy glare somehow gets colder and she shakes his head and scoffs. “... Hmmmm… love... What good has it ever done...”

“... What do you mean by that?... You said you fell in love with Mum.”

His nostrils flare in frustration. “.... Rhemielia. My child. All I’m trying to say is that you barely know this man. How long have you met him? A year or so ago?”

“Well…. yes… but how long did you know Mum before you married her?”

As soon as he opens his mouth wider about to argue back, Pierre walks in with a cheerful smile. “Ah! Rhemi! So good to see you!! Are you ready to see your lovely gown?”

Martin pats Rhemi’s head and she cringes to herself yet again. “We’ll speak of this later—no need to make a scene, do we now?” He says leaning into her ear and whispering. “In the meantime, go ahead. Go on and play dress up like you used to when you were a child.”

Her eyelid twitches even more as she strains to keep a fake smile on her lips. “I not playing dress—”

“Rhemi!!!!” Suddenly Agrippa and Portia burst through the door with happy smiles, excited for the final fitting. As soon as they both notice Sir Martin, their smiles dwindle slightly, but they still keep their cheery demeanor for the occasion.

For once, Rhemi was happy to change the subject, pretending that her father didn’t say what he did. “Ippa! Pasha!”

“I am sooooo excited!!!”

“Me too! Pierre is ready and— Wait… Where’s Julian?”

“Oh! I’m sorry, Rem. He had an emergency at the clinic…” Portia says finally letting her smile fall.

“That kid from the orphanage….. What's his naaaammmme—?”

“Zachary?”

Agrippa snaps their fingers agreeing with their partner. “Yeah! He broke his arm today.”

“Holy crap!! Not Zack! Is he okay??”

“Oh yeah! He’s getting loads of attention and is making jokes as we speak! Those kids are resilient, he’ll be just fine!”

“As long as he stops climbing tall shit that is.”

“….Well that stinks that Julian can’t be here, but he can help that!... I’m happy you both could make it though!”

Suddenly, Sir Martin clears his throat to interrupt their conversation looking at his pocket watch and tapping it. “Excuse me ladies and….. Sir???”

Agrippa blankly stares at him with a small growing smile. “.... Which one do you think it is?”

Martin stares back trying not look so confused as he really was. But instead of answering, he just clears his throat once more, tucking his pocket watch back into his vest and looking the other way. “... Not all of us have all day to dawdle.”

Taking the hint, the four of them follow Pierre to the back and make their way to the back. Excited, Portia and Rhemi head to the back changing room. Pierre gives them the gown in order for the maid of honor to know how to help with the dress the day of the wedding (bustles and all).

It fits like a glove. Ecstatic and hopelessly excited, Rhemi nearly skips out of the back to show off her beloved dress.

Portia and Agrippa both hold back their tears as she twirls around happily. “Oh, little bean!!” Agrippa mutters sniffling hard.

Rhemi spins around, clapping her face and her eyes start to water up as well and she smiles stupidly. “Ohhhhhh, you two stop!!! You both said you wouldn’t cry!”

“I know, I know! But you are just so….. So—” Portia says, whipping a tear away.

“—Tch. Please…. don’t lie to her.” Martin grumbles his left hand pitching the bridge of his nose.

Portia and Agrippa stare at the Archmagister in utter shock. “Umm... Excuse me?” Portia asks with her brow furrowed. “What exactly do you mean?”

“Well, that dress is all wrong, of course.” He huffs irritatedly, uncrossing his legs and standing to his feet.

Rhemi’s heart starts to sink into her chest. “What’s…. what’s wrong with it?” She asks, looking down and lifting up some of the skirt with her hands, unable to see the defects.

“That dress makes you look like a dirty commoner, Pigeon…. It looks more like a used napkin than a gown, don't you think? And what a dreadful color.”

“But… But I…. I am a commoner. A-and… I don’t like whi-…..” The words die in her throat as her attention diverts to the back of the room.

Somehow a person who came out of nowhere is standing directly behind her father in the back—But it isn’t a customer…. Her sick crimson eyes staring at her with a desperate looking expression. Why is she here?? Am… Am I going insane? As soon as Rhemi closes her eyes again, she vanishes, but it still frightens her.

“...Wh-white..” She finally finishes muttering, still staring in the back where the figure once stood.

It was…. Herself. The ghost of her former self that keeps popping up in her dreams. The same person in her reflection the other day. Her sick bloodshot eyes, yellow tainted skin and the stench of cremated ashes. Clearly, no one else can see her, or smell the terrible scent of death.

Quickly, she’s snapped back to reality as soon as her fathers speaks again and she looks back down at her gown. “....Please…” He scoffs, pitching the bridge of his nose. “...It looks like a rag—and for gods’ sake—Why is it blush?? Virgins are supposed to wear white—“

“——Okaaaaaay! Rhemi let's get you out of your beautiful dress so the poor tailor can finish the hem, okay?” Portia quickly and skillfully interrupts, smacking her hands together with a large fake grin. She nearly pushes Rhemi to the back room to change out of it.

Portia grumbles under head breath, helping her get back into the changing room. “What the fuck is that guy’s—” Words fail her as soon as she notices her friend’s tears in her eyes and the sorrow filled look in her face. “Oh… no, Rem!” Hastily, she hands her a tissue before her makeup runs.

“It just…. So much is happening….. And…. He- ...He thinks it ….lo- looks bad….” Rhemi sniffles, trying to keep the tears from falling, her nose and lips starting to crinkle back. “Is-is it really that bad??”

Portia is quick to embrace her upset friend and hug her tightly. “No, no, no…. He’s wrong, Rem. You look gorgeous! He doesn’t know the hell he’s talking about! I mean, the guy wears an ugly ass cape for god sakes! If anything he’s a walking fashion nightmare! All he’s missing is the stupid puffy pants and a fourteen foot stick up is ass!” Slowly, she pulls away and wipes the tears from her friend's eyes comfortingly. “Please don’t cry, Rhemi. You really do look amazing. Agrippa, Pierre, Nadia, and I would have told you if it didn’t!... Please, don’t let this jerk make you think otherwise.”

“I don’t think he was trying to be a jerk… he was just telling me how he felt… I mean… I asked him what he thought after all…. and….. h-his opinion is v-valid.”

Portia flutters her eyes and shakes her head baffled. Rhemi is usually a pretty good judge of character, yet anytime anyone says anything bad about the Archmagister, she denies it, or makes excuses. “Rhemi….. Why do you keep defending this guy?! All he’s done is been rude and disregards everyone’s feelings.”

Rhemi stifles and quickly wipes her nose with a handkerchief, refusing to look Portia in the eye. “.... H-... He’s my father.”

“Yeah! One that you just mee—” Portia suddenly stops herself, pressing her lips tightly together and slightly shakes her head. Perhaps now isn’t the time. Rhemi isn’t seeing this man for what he is. Thoughtfully she starts to speak again. “...Look… all I’m saying is that no matter who this person is to you, no one should make you cry and make you feel like shit in your wedding dress.”

Rhemi fiddles with her fingers, not very convinced. “B… But what if he’s right?”

The Devorak sister takes a large breath, pushing down the urge to go back and knock the wind out of that plum haired asshole. But as calmly as she could she takes both of her friend’s hands and asks, “Rem. Sweetie. Do you love this dress?”

Sheepishly her friend replies, “... Y-... yes….”

“Does it make you feel all happy and warm inside when you put it on?”

“Uh- huh….”

“Do you feel amazing when you’re in it??”

“Y-... yeah…I do....”

“Then forget what he said! It makes you feel amazing… You cried your beautiful eyes out when you first got into it because you said you felt so amazing. You loved it! You still love it! This is your dress. Please don’t let that man take that away from you.”

Silence takes over the room as Rhemi ponders her friend’s words for a moment and she sniffles. The most concerning thing was seeing her sick past self staring at her from across the room. She’s never seen her outside of the dream realm till now… Perhaps it was her that Rhemi heard the other day in the palace and who she saw in the mirror this morning. Who else could it be??

Portia sighs and loops her arm through Rhemi’s. “Come on. Let’s get ya out so Pierre can finish up, ok?” Rhemi follows her, but doesn’t pick up her eyes, still totally lost in thoughts. In a last attempt, Portia leans her head on her shoulder. “... You really look amazing, Rem.”

Silently Rhemi nods with a fake half grin, finally picking up her gaze to meet her friend. “Thanks, Portia… I’m really glad you are here.” She says placing her head on top of her’s.

“...Haha.. You’re lucky my brother wasn’t here—”

“—Oh gods yeah! He probably would have decked him in the face.”

“Hell! You’re lucky I didn’t!”

“Thank you, Pasha.” Rhemi mutters as stops in her tracks so she could embrace her friend.

“What are maids of honor for?” Portia whispers back, kindly embracing her back.

“Please don’t tell Muri about this….”

“.... I… I promise.”

Eventually, the two get the dress off without disturbing any of the pins on the bottom. The apprentice makes sure her eyes aren’t red in the dressing room before she walks out to meet her father again. The tension in the room was so tangible, so intoxicating.

Portia and Agrippa watched from the tailor door as Rhemi and her father walked towards the palace.

The silence was absolutely dreadful on the way to the palace. Luckily, it was within a short distance and this night would be over with. Rhemi never felt so conflicted before. Everything was so overwhelming lately. All she wanted was for her father to be happy for her. But everything she did seemed to blow up in her face.

As they reach the palace, her father finally realizes that she wasn’t walking towards the shop. “Well…. This is you.” She announces, rather happy to be done with him for the day.

“Oh…” He says a bit bewildered. “.... But I thought I was walking you home.”

“No no no. The palace is right around the corner from Pierre’s. It doesn’t make any sense going all the way across town.”

“Please. I don’t mind.”

“No, Père. It’s fine. I’ll be fine. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay??” Turning away from him never felt better. She hated to admit it, but he was just exhausting to be around. And after today, she had just enough of it all. “Good night.” She says just turning her so he could hear her.

With a knowing sigh, he places his cane hard into the cobblestone with a clank. “...Is it what I said about the dress.. Isn’t it?” She stops in her tracks but doesn’t look behind her… Maybe he’s going to apologize? “... Rhemielia, dear. Believe me when I say that you are making a huge mistake.” Her fists clenched so hard it almost hurts, her hopes crushed once again. Nope. Of course he wasn’t going to apologize. “... I am telling you that there are better men in Charlès that would put you into the finest of wedding gow—”

“—Have a nice night, Père…” Rhemi mutters trying to hold back the tears. “I’ll... I’ll see you later.”

As Rhemi makes her way down the street and disappears into the crowd. Martin can’t help but remember that night when he lost her. All he could do was just sit there and watch as she was swept away by that dreadful witch. Just like his other dream with the young woman whose neck was snapped. He felt so powerless of movement in these moments.

As he stood there, for one of the first times in years, Martin felt a pull on his chest. A feeling like he might have done something wrong tonight. He hadn’t felt like this since… Well… Since Rhemi’s birthday nearly fifteen years ago now.

He never meant to hurt her. She just… needed to learn a lesson…

“She’ll be fine.” He mutters to himself, shaking off this feeling of regret. “... One day she’ll thank me.”

On the way home, Rhemi made sure she got rid of all her tears before she came back home with Muriel for the night. It's a good thing people usually leave you alone when you're crying. If Muriel notices, she’ll just say that they were good tears from the fitting. All happy tears. Nothing bad happened. It’s all good!… But he knows they’re not.

————Rowdy Raven————

SKKKKIIIIIRRRRT!!!!

“—THAT BASTARD SAID WHAT ABOUT HER DRESS??” Julian shouts standing up from the table in dismay.

The tavern is busy like it usually is. Agrippa, Portia, Julian, and Asra decided to have a drink after today. It was only Monday, but it felt like everyday was an eternity since Sir Martin came into port. Portia had just finished telling her brother and his partner about what had happened at the tailors, and of course they were enraged.

Asra just yanks him back down to his chair. “Shhhh!! Ilya! Would you please calm down! Believe me, I’m just as pissed as you are!”

“If I only had my cricket bat….” Agrippa says, fantasizing while staring at the wall, sipping on their ale. “Fucking asshole…” They say as Portia holds their hand with a sweet reassuring smile.

“Did he really make her cry??” Asra asks soberly.

Portia nods sadly. “It was absolutely heartbreaking. I’ve never seen her look so frustrated and hurt before! But don’t tell Muriel! I promised her I wouldn’t.”

“Why did you tell us then?”

“She only said, Muriel.” She shrugs. “...It’ll just make the poor guy more stressed out anyways. He’s under a lot of pressure as well. This is his wedding too.”

Asra's stomach tied in knots at the thought of his best friend crying. “What the hell is this guy’s problem???”

“You should have heard what he said before she tried on the dress.” Agrippa mumbles before taking a large swing of their ale again.

“What did he say??” Julian and Asra ask at the same time, leaning closer into the table.

“It was something along the lines that he ‘couldn’t believe that she was serious about marrying that ‘seven foot tall brute’... I heard them talking before we opened the door.”

Asra's nose crinkles in and his top half of his lip curls into a snarl. “And what did she say??”

“Oh! She was quick to defend him, and she almost looked angry. But at the same time…. afraid? I dunno—but it's like her father doesn’t realize that Rhemi is her own person now…. She’s not that child that was taken from him years ago.”

“.... Do you think he still sees her as a little kid?”

Portia shrugs, staring at a stain on the wooden table. “.... Maybe?... I feel like he sees her more of something that was his property… Not really another person with feelings.”

Julian slams his fists on the table, “THAT’S. IT!” making everything rattle and clank, nearly spilling a few drinks. He snaches his goblet, jumping to a stand and chugging down the last of his Salty bitters, then throws his glass down to the ground, smashing it into a hundred pieces. “—IMMA KILL ‘EM!”

“Ilya! Sit your drunk ass down and shut up!! You’re not killing anyone!” Portia scolds. “WE four, collectively…. however might just—”

“Pasha!” Asra laughs, tugging his drunken partner back down to his chair again. “That’s a bit extreme don’t you think?? How about we just talk to Rhemi about it.”

“That man is completely toxic.” Julian mumbles, taking Asra’s drink from his hands. “... *Hiccup*....Have you…. Have you noticed that Rhemi isn’t as bright as she normally is?” Julian mutters, sipping the last bit of Asra’s salty bitters since he threw down his own cup.

“.... I have…. and something about all of this bothers me.” Asra says leaning into the table with his arms folded. “....I feel like her father is killing her spirit…. I wonder if he’s always been like this….. And if that's true… it makes me wonder…” he pauses for a movement then shakes his head. “N… Nevermind.”

“What?” Agrippa, Portia, and Julian ask in unison.

“.... *Sigh*.... I might be going too far if I say this.”

“Well now you have to tell us.” Agrippa says with a straight face about to knock back the last bit of ale.

“.... I don’t know…… Sometimes I wonder if she and her mother were really….. ‘Kidnapped’.”

The table suddenly became so eerily quiet, as if they all were thinking the same thing.

✨To be continued…

Sorry for the long wait my trash pandas. But I really needed this break from writing. And I'm really glad I took it. I am so happy with myself right now. I know its still not by best work, but I at least don't hate it. This chapter was supposed a bit longer, but I decided not to shoot myself in the foot this time and just split it.

Thank you for the babies who have been support and encouraging to me when I was at a really low point. I was really sad that last chapter didn't do as well as I was hoped. But I realized that a lot of people are still reading and I need to be humble and be grateful for what I have. Anyways--chapter 7, The King of Pentacles~ should be up soonish. That may be another shorter chapter, but it gonna be a big angsty one. *wink wink*. As always, thanks for reading my hot garbage! <3

[tsuki-sennin]

Tsuki can't get enough of doing liveblogs~! So, what's up on the chopping block in my kitchen today? Why it's of the PreCure Flavor~! On this lovely Easter Sunday, April 17th 2022, Delicious Party finally came out of its hacker-induced hiatus! And because of that, I'd figure I'd do a late night celebration with one of these! What to call my tag though...

"if you receive a little kindness give them a large serving!"

Yeah, that'll work! That sounds like something Yui's grandma would say! Souji Tendo's grandma too! Filter that tag out if you hate my non-existent face!

Spoilers, I guess... with a side of mild catching up, a la mode~!

-So, DePaPre! I'm told that we use this because "DeliPre" is something both very different and very not safe for work. I like this, it sounds like everybody's favorite rehash, Decapre from Street Fighter IV! And to a lesser extent, Depeche Mode.

-My favorite so far? Probably Rosemary, he has that sassy gay uncle energy I aspire to. Yui's a great protagonist though, I love her very much. Kokone too! Spicy lass! And Kome-Kome~! Little fox babby! Idk how I feel about Pamu-Pamu yet though, but once Ran finally enters, I assume she and Mem-Mem will be a funny ramen lady and her dank little dragon dude who will help elevate this cast to new heights.

-Idk if I really like Takumi though. He looks like Sans Undertale, yeah, but like... he's not really interesting me so far.

-Oh Toei Animation... you blockheads~! At least you try.

-The same cannot be said for Crunchyroll, however. What a shit service, and anyone who uses it should run away as soon as they can.

-Oishina Town~! What a very lovely place~! Like Aozora City~! But like... making me real hungry. ...I know I'm going around in circles with Today's Special, but I should probably grab a snack. ...even if it's currently a fair bit past 10 PM... maybe next episode.

-Oh cool, the Heart Cure Watch comes with video chat. ...I mean, it's basically a Fitbit so I assumed it did, but hey, cool!

-Ohhh, that's a lovely bento.

-Kokone-chan spun her salad too hard.

-What a versatile item, that butter roll!

-That's a ham!? That's a big fuck-off hunk of Fred Flinstone meat! ...so uh, would you happen to know where I could buy one of those? For cheap, preferably?

-Awwww, Mari-chan do a jump!

-Speaking of rolls... Kome-Kome seems to take it a bit more literally than most.

-20 rolls!? That's a whole baseball team's worth of sandwich-y goodness!

-Kokone's driver gives me real good vibes :)

-Oh yeah, the theme song! I love the energy behind the strings, and the gentle percussion and horns are real nice!

-Deliciously Partying with PreCures!

-SIXTY ROLLS

-All that food better not go to waste, Kokone-chan!

-Ohhhh, I see now. Very gay of you, Kokone-chan. My point still stands, however.

-When I was a kid, I was a real picky bastard when it came to my food. Kinda comes with the territory of being autistic. Now that I outgrew it, and as an adult who sometimes has to cook for his own family who have actual jobs and social lives, I think I finally understand the depths of my mother's pain when I slave over and nearly burn myself alive and/or decapitate myself while cooking dinner only for it to be left out because somebody didn't feel like eating. I will eat whatever I am served with no complaints for now and forever.

-Deliciousmile is like... the most PreCure catchphrase ever.

-Ahhh, prawns. I'm not really a crustacean kinda guy, so I usually only eat them fried. Seems great though.

-Fuwa-sama...

-Do you think maybe Kamen Rider Vulcan LLC gained enough revenue as a subsidiary of Hiden Intelligence to elevate Isamu's family into socialite status?

-I'm kidding, of course. Wait a second… last name of Fuwa. Dog-related power source. Blue and white color scheme. Ranged attacks… Holy shit, this is a conspiracy! Sound the alarms! Legendary former A.I.M.S. captain Isamu Fuwa has a niece, and she's attending your middle school right now!

-Oh wait, no. Her family name has different kanji... (芙羽 - "Feather", I believe)

-As opposed to kanji that probably wouldn't be used in a show like this (不破 -"Unbreakable").

-Never mind, false alarm!

-Anyways, let the girl do chores! She wants to help you!

-Monster in the kitchen. What will they cook?

-Hold up, your grandma told you this? Interesting, veeeeeeery interesting.

-Another little bit of Tsuki-Sennin-related Culinary Trivia~! I actually took a few semesters' worth of Culinary Arts in high school. The teacher was a veteran of the restaurant business, and he definitely should've been teaching at an actual culinary college instead of a crappy public school with asbestos in the gym's ceiling and (from what I've heard after I graduated), a lot of violent incidents. Even though I tried my best to behave/get everything done as best I could... I'm still decently sure he didn't like me very much, but that's okay. It's thanks to him that I can never accidentally poison anyone or burn an entire kitchen down.

-I take it back, I love you Pamu-Pamu, the tea kettle pupper fairy.

-She cleaned the entire school without even picking up a single broom.

-THE GHOST ATE THE KETTLE

-Uhhhh... okay, sure, Secretoru. Go kidnap the Recipeppi because you don't know how to eat fried prawn. Bundoru, bundoru!

-It hasn't even been a whole day, how'd it spiral this fast?!

-Oh, hello there Ran. I can't wait to meet you properly.

-Amane Kasai... you seem to be way different from Yuriko Shiratori. You have a very lovely name, though.

-"Ughhh, fine, I'll beat up the monster myself!"

-My man just wants his fried prawns, this is bullshit

-Oh, I am convinced that "Weird Food Girl dating Weird Rich Girl" dating rumors would absolutely replace this monsters stuff in like... five minutes.

-Go take a break, she's shaking you down, school workers.

-If you eat food from the same beach, you'll be friends... what kind wisdom to pass down.

-"Each meal only happens once in your life, so make each one the most important." That's what Souji Tendou's grandmother said.

-...no, I'm not gonna let up with the grandmother quotes, how dare you ask that.

-Oh, same "kitchen". I... I see... well, those guys like prawns, they'd probably say "same beach" too!

-Let's eat together as besties :)

-Yummy yummy prawn :)

-And here comes Gentlu with the blandifying strike!

-"Man, I kick ass at this job! I'll be a shoe-in for promotion for sure!"

-"Oh dammit, this is your school... fuck. Alright Ubau-zo, kick their asses!"

-Monster confirmed.

-HAS HE BEEN JUMPING THIS WHOLE TIME

-Daaaaaaamn, Yui! You got kicks!

-Yesss, Kokone-san! Free them!

-You Cures are real admirable gals, huh?

-Oh thank god, Mari-chan's here!

-Delicious Fieeeeeld~!

-Alright, time to burn some calories!

-Squeeze the fox!

-Wow, these transformations are pretty long, compared to Tropical Rouge's. ...at least, it feels that way.

-I will never get over the name Cure Spicy.

-Man, that's like a nothing attack to a Pretty Cure.

-She spin~!

-Man, guess that poor... salad spinner? He was hungry.

-I wonder, can a Cure feed you with her attacks here?

-Recibepis get!

-Bye Gentlu, you're adorable.

-Who just... leaves plates out like that? No wonder they thought they were haunted.

-Kokone Fuwa. Dog lover.

-"You're part of the clean up now!"

-I assume this is Ran-chan's "CureSta". I wonder if she's also active on ByTube, and saw Ikki and Vice kicking ass? ...to be fair, that'd hardly be the weirdest crossover reason I've thought of.

-Woooow, Yui knows her stuff!

-Ohhhh, Ran-Ran... evil?

-Chururin, the Bundoru Gang's secret mastermind. They're the very devil of the grocery store!

-Soda pop today!

-Oh yeah, this ending theme. It has a sick-ass bass riff, and is very danceable! ...unfortunately, I've been here for like an hour and thirty minutes and don't feel much like dancing tonight. And this is the closest we've seen to Cure Yum-Yum beating shit up. Tearing up the dance floor.

-We're doing an investigation into CureSta next episode~! Will my Yui/Kokone ship evolve into an ever-exciting OT3?

-...I should probably start making food before I do these... well, join me next Sunday! When we have another lovely meal time at a reasonable hour with Kabuto! Vulcan! A girl who I currently assign Cross-Z! And their sassy gay uncle Bravo! In the meantime, I'll be doing more PreCure research so I can truly come into my own as a fan! Please look forward to it.

[thiswasinevitableid]

Hey! For your monster prompts, maybe Fae indruck? Either nsfw or sfw is cool ✌🏻💕✨

Here you go! I went with NSFW

When the sun sets over the Monongahela, Lake Greenbriar becomes a sky burning with stars. The woven crowns, strung through ash leaves for men or rowan leaves for women, each bear four small candles which flicker in the twilight as they bob on the water. If they sink, their owners will return home alone. If they make it to another part of the shore, the one who picks them up and the one who set them afloat are meant to be together. 

By the time darkness cloaks the trees, all but one of the crowns is sunk or retrieved. Duck Newton sits on the shore, skipping stones across the black water. 

This happens every. Goddamn. Year.

He makes his crown, he sets it on the lake, and it floats aimlessly until the candles go out. It doesn’t sink, and no one ever picks it up. Two years ago, when he was allowed to weave ash leaves instead of rowan into it, he thought that might fix the issue. No such luck. 

It’s not that Duck is hoping to find his true love; every one knows that the Festival of Floating Light is an excuse to hook-up in the woods with no repercussions. Kepler is strange like that. Sex is private, unless there’s a an ancient ritual involving boning down in public, in which case it must be observed every year.

That’s not the only strange thing about his home, far from it, but as moans and cries of pleasure punctuate the darkness it’s the one on his mind. 

He’s contemplating whether to go home when his crown changes course, floating purposefully to a point diagonal from him. Lo and behold, a figure picks it up, and there’s a flash of silver as they lift it. But instead of moving towards him, they turn into the woods.

“Man, what the fuck?” He grumbles, getting to his feet and running towards the dimming candles, staying on the shore to avoid tripping over an amorous couple hidden in the trees. Duck catches up to the mysterious figure just as they pass into a clearing, moonlight spilling onto the grass around them.

“Y’know, real rude to turn your back on your true love.” He teases.

A rustle of fabric as the figure turns and Duck bites back a frustrated groan. Standing before him is a man with silver hair, faintly glowing red eyes and, god help him, short, feathery antennae. He smiles wide, showing teeth just sharp enough to be worrying. 

Six years of waiting, and the first person to get his crown is a fucking fae. 

“That seems rather forward.” The fae cocks his head, “I was of the understanding this night was for more, ah, casual activities.”

“I was, uh, just goofin around. Sorry.”

“There is no need to apologize for such a jest. Here” tan arms offer the crown back to him, “I came to observe, not participate. I was running late at that, and thus thought I would see the lake empty. Only this remained and when it came to me I assumed it’s owner had long since given up.”

“Uh, thanks.” He blows out the candles, not wanting to start a forest fire, “yeah. This same thing happens to me every year. Don’t stop me from waitin until the last moment, hopin it’ll be different.”

The fae looks at Duck’s feet, gaze slowly moving up his body with an unreadable smile. 

“I know many consider this festival a mere game, rather than true magic, and you are the proof” red eyes lock onto his face, “Such a handsome man is left floating year after year? No decent magic would allow that.”

Duck knows that fae flirt with humans all the time, that people come back with stories of being bewitched until the member of the Unseen Court had their fill. But this one seems too earnest for that.

No sooner does he think this then the fae steps back, “Oh, ah, apologies, I did not mean to alarm you with my compliment. You need not fear trickery from me, Duck Newton, I promise.”

“Uh, my, my name ain’t, uh, fuck, my names really Way-, no, no uh. Fuck.”

“Do not worry. I am a seer, and thus learned your name by following your futures. But magic has odd ways about it; because I can learn others' names with ease, I cannot use them for any sort of spell or binding.”

“Thank fuck.”

The fae snickers, then bows, “Indeed. You may call me Indrid,”

“Indrid. Right. Uh, well, been nice meetin you Indrid, but I’m gonna head back into town.”

“You wish to return to a lonely bed and a night of disgruntled dreams?” Indrid raises an eyebrow.

“N-ye-uh, fuck, I mean, what else am I gonna do?”

“You could stay with me awhile. I would offer a meal, but I foresee you being wary of it and, honestly, that speaks to prudence on your part. Fae are fae, after all. What else do you like doing at night?” He sounds excited, as if he wants nothing more than to indulge Duck’s most mundane fantasies. 

“I like stargazin.” Duck mumbles, certain the fae will leave rather than stay and listen to him babble. 

A wave of the hand and a thick, green blanket covers the ground. The fae sits down with less grace than expected, flopping onto his back with a sigh. Cautiously, Duck joins him. As he lays back, a pillow forms to cushion his head. 

Crickets call near their heads. Duck likes silence, but a growing part of him wants to talk more with Indrid. He points to a cluster of stars, “There’s the Great Ship. Always did like that one.”

“You know, we call that The Pine. But now that you say it, I can see the ship as well.” Indrid’s finger traces lines through the air.

“Huh, never occurred to me y’all would see different things. What about...that one. Cygnus.”

“It seems we both saw something avian. To me, that is The Crane.”

The trade constellations for a time, then move on to their experiences in the woods. Their conversation chases away Duck’s nerves, and soon they’re shoulder to shoulder, the human pointing out a particularly notable Spruce. When he lowers his arm, the backs of their hands bump together. Duck turns his hand, an offering to the stranger direction the night is taking. Cool fingers link with his, and he swears Indrid purrs at the contact. 

“Can’t wait to write a friend of mine about this. He’s jealous that I live somewhere so fuckin weird.”

“I take it ‘weird’ is not something you enjoy?”

“I mean, there’s nothin wrong with it. But things like spells and prophecies, magical destinies, leylines, Unseen Courts, they ain’t something I want to stick my finger into. But uh” he squeezes Indrid’s hand, afraid he’ll get the wrong idea, “there are some parts of it I don’t mind.”

The conversation turns towards fate and Indrid’s misadventures trying to get people to heed his visions. A lull hangs between them just as a moan curls towards them from far off in the woods. 

“Jesus, thought folks’d be done by now.”

“Perhaps they got a second wind. Or are making use of the darkness to do things they would not otherwise have the courage to ask for.”

Another moan and Duck shifts, uncomfortable with the fact the noises turn him on. He wants to focus on Indrid, not on his low-level, frustrated boner.

“It appeals to you, doesn’t it? These dalliances in the trees?”

“I mean yeah. Some of us like to touch as well as look, mister just-here-to-observe.”

Indrid lightly whacks Ducks’ thigh, “I told you, I came to see the lights on the lake. They sound captivating. That being said, I am not opposed to doing the, ah, traditional activity with you. But my visions suggest that would be too much.”

“It would, at least so soon after meetin you.” It’s the safest option, and he hates it. 

Indrid drums his fingers on the blanket, “Ah ha! What about kissing?”

“Hell yeah” Duck rolls onto his side, Indrid mirroring him. The fae strokes his cheek, but does nothing else, waiting for Duck to initiate. He’s glad to, leaning in to press an exploratory kiss to cool lips. Indrid chirps softly as he returns the gesture, and Duck moves his hand to caress his cheek and play with the starfall silver of his hair. Curves his fingers down Indrid’s neck, chuckling when the fae teases his lower lip with concentrated kisses.

“AHhnnnnrrrrrrr” It’s half chirp and half purr.

“Fuck, sorry, thought you just had a scarf on.” Duck starts pulling his hand away from the ruff of dark feathers around Indrid’s neck, only for the fae to grab his hand and press it deeper.

“NoOoo” he wiggles closer, hooking an ankle over Ducks calf, “that is divine, please, touch it as much as you like.”

“It’s so fuckin soft” He pets the down, gets that same chirp followed by a flurry of kisses on the cheek. 

“My k-kind come in many form. Mine is uncommon, some would even say offputting due to it’s commonalities with moths.”

“Bullshit. Wait, does this mean you have win--HOLY fuck, I thought that was a cloak!” He lays there, stunned, as Indrid sits up and extends two night skies from his back. The wings, pitch black, dusted with hundreds of small, pearlescent spots are the most beautiful sight Duck’s ever seen. 

“A common mistake. Do you like their coloration? It is very handy if I wish to go for a night flight to clear my mind.”

“It’s incredible Indrid. Can I touch them?”

A playful smile, “Why, Duck Newton, first you come to me professing to be my true love and then ask to touch my wings. You move far too fast for a shy fae like myself.”

“Ohhh, is it a sex thing?”

“To a degree. Perhaps in the future I will permit you to touch them. Speaking of which” he lays back on his side, waves a hand in the air above Duck’s bound chest, ‘am I correct that you want me to steer clear of this part of you.”

“Uh huh. Wish you could touch a little more of me, but the damn things are hard to get rid of.”

“Of course. In that case” his hand skates over Duck’s side, pushing on his lower back to bring them closer, “I shall explore all the other parts of you that you will allow.”

Duck stays on the blanket until dawn peers over the horizon. In that time they trade touches of gentle desire and kisses that grow more fiery with each hour. At times they stop to lay in each others’ arms, Duck explaining how, if he had his way, he’d be like the fae forest stewards, watching over the woods and helping them grow. It’s with reluctance and his fingers carding through Indrid’s ruff that he says it’s time for him to go unless he wants a search party from Kepler to come looking for him. 

Indrid stands, helping Duck up but not letting go of his hand, “I foresee my court duties requiring a great deal of time for the next few months but when I do have time, ah, if you are amenable, I would like to meet with you again.”

Duck brings his hand to his lips, kissing it, “I’ll see you then, ‘Drid.”

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

What nobody tells you about magic rituals is that there’s a fuck-ton of waiting. Duck’s been on his back on this fucking stone slab for at least a half hour and, depending on the whims of the Unseen Court, could be here even longer. 

At the exact midpoint between the spring equinox and the summer solstice sits the Green Marriage Ceremony. The belief is that the ceremony not only ensures bountiful fields, but ongoing peace between humans and fae. Any residents of Kepler who are of age and unmarried put their names into a bowl, and one is selected to fulfill the human side of consummating the “marriage.” In the old days it was mandatory to accept if selected, but the fae now insist that the participant be willing. This year, Duck was the chosen one.

He accepted for two reasons: one was that, once you’re selected, your name is taken out of the running in the future, and why not get the weirdness over with when he can. The other was that he hopes whoever the fae send will be willing to take a message back to Indrid to let him know Duck still wants to see him. 

So here he is, in a white shirt and loose, green shorts, at the center of a stone slab the size of a wealthy mans bed. White curtains form a tent around the slab, flowers strewn about and an unlit lantern hanging from the center of the ceiling.  Juno helped him get the required flowers into his hair, (“gotta help you out how I can because Duck, I love ya, but I ain’t gonna hang around and listen to you get fucked”).

He’s not nervous. It’s not an actual marriage, just a symbolic one. The fact that he’s supposed to spend from now until sunset enacting a wedding night with a fae sounds exhausting, but assuming the fae isn’t a dick it should at least be fun. He’s heard horror stories about the human participant disappearing at the end, but that hasn’t happened since his grandfather was young.

The whispers outside the tent change, more earnest than idle, which means the fae have arrived. He has no idea how many come along with their chosen participant; like Juno he’d rather not hang around while someone he knows gets fucked for eight hours, no matter how great the food and games at the festival are. 

A swoosh of fabric has him sitting up on his elbows to see who his partner will be.

“Oh” sighs a familiar voice, “I did so hope I was in this timeline.”

“Indrid” He sits up all the way. His fae is draped in flowing silver robes, which he doffs to reveal an outfit that matches Duck’s.There’s no hesitation as he joins him on the “bed,” waving his hand so the stone disappears beneath a thick, moss-colored blanket. 

“My, my, they left me the most handsome husband imaginable. Lucky me.” He purrs, straddling Duck and leaning down to kiss his cheeks. 

“H-how’d you end up with this gig?”

“The same way you did; pure chance. I saw you in most futures, though in some you decided to withdraw at the last moment. I am glad you did not.”

“No fuckin kiddin.” Duck grabs his head with both hands, pulling him into a kiss that spins sparks up and down his spine. When they part Indrid sits back, studying him. 

“That is still not how you wish it to be?” He tips his head, indicating Duck’s chest. Duck shakes his head. Then he bolts upright, ripping his shirt up and off to stare at the newly flat space. 

“‘Drid, you, did you just-”

“If that is not what you wanted I can fix-”

“No, no it’s fuckin great! I, I never asked a fae for that kind of help because, well, the whole bargains bein’ tricky thing.”

“Of course. Though I must warn you, I had selfish motives. I wanted to be able to touch all of you.” He pulls Duck into his lap, kisses him as he glides his hands over his chest. When he plays with his nipples the human gasps and the fae grins, “oh yes, I am going to have fun with you, sweet one.”

Duck tilts his head back with a groan, lets Indrid guide them down so he’s on his back once again “Fuck that’s good.”

“Very. But I suggest we start consummating the marriage in the traditional way soon; the futures show everyone getting antsy should we delay.”

“Way ahead of you.” Duck tosses his pants away, stares as Indrid does the same before undoing the tie that helps his shirt accommodate his wings. The feathers of his ruff continue down his shoulders, turning to a light dusting by the time they reach his elbows and collarbone. Duck runs his fingers through and over them as Indrid positions himself between his legs. 

“This does not need altering for you to be comfortable doing this with me?” His fingers rub Duck’s inner thighs. 

“N-not right now. I mean, if you wanna whip me up a bigger dick later I might be ready for that.”

“Noted. My, you are quite aroused already.”

“I around you, it ain’t hard.”

“On the contrary, it is very hard.” He rubs the head of his cock across his folds, grinning. 

Duck giggles, “Christ that was awfulAHHHhhnnnfuck’Drid.” The fae sinks into him with tender determination.

“Nonsense, I learned how to ‘goof’ from the best.” He kisses his nose, purrs, “mmmmm, you fit me perfectly, sweet one.”

“Did-didn’t know fae were on the uh, the bigger siIIiide.” He moans as something catches the tip of his cock.

“Ah yes, that ridged ring at the base is always popular with humans. It seems you are no exception.”

“Nuhuh.” Duck wraps his arms around feathered shoulders as Indrid rocks his hips, “fuck ‘Drid, want it more, want you.”

“Here I am.” Indrid kisses him and the world dissolves. As their lips trace over each other, he dips his tongue into Indrid’s mouth, the hints of sharp teeth making him shiver. In the warm, soft light of the tent, Indrid’s body moving in time with his own, it’s all too easy to see the marriage bed as it could be. A cozy house full of light, nestled in the trees, with a big, soft bed where his beloved fae could comfortably sprawl his wings open as they spent each night tangled together.

A short, high chirp brings him back to earth, Indrid raising up onto his palms and snapping his hips purposefully. 

“Oh, oh yes, Duck, sweet one, yesss.” He thrusts deep, wings abruptly opening halfway, and cums with a charming trill. 

When he pulls out Duck opens his mouth to protest, only for the fae to reverse their positions. Dizzy, Duck puts out his hands to steady himself. They land in Indrid’s wings, close to his body.

“AHfuck, goodness that’s wonderful keep them right there while you ride me.” He guides Duck down onto his cock; if every fae is this quick to recover, Duck’s pretty sure he knows who set the length of the ceremony all those years ago.

The feathers in these sections of the wings are a mixture, some long and satiny, others the downy tufts Duck is growing used to. He sets a slow pace to match the drag of his fingers through the inky heaven of Indrid’s wings. The fae purrs constantly, bucking his hips now and then but otherwise letting Duck lead. That is, until his orgasm starts to build and he grinds down harder.

“AHhhnnn, yes, good little human, so good, please, sweet one, my antenna are sensitive too please touch them.”

Duck gropes fistfuls of wing, “Thought you wanted me to pay attention to these. Make up your mind darlin.”

Indrid growls, yanks one hand up to his head, sending Duck down with an amused yelp. The instant he toys with the base of one, feathery antenna Indrid moans louder, gripping his ass with sharp nails and driving up into him. The ridge on his cock catches just right over and over, sending Duck over the crest of his climax as he pours a groan down Indrids throat.

The fae, still hard inside him, holds him tight and sits up, keeping Duck in his lap. Starry wings encircle them. It’s so intimate, a world that is theirs alone, and being surrounded by those sumptuous wings has Duck bouncing on his cock even as his own body grows sensitive.

“That’s it sweet one, goodness, the way your ass moves when you do that is delicious, I will have to find all the ways to make it bounce and, ahnn, and tremble laterrrr” he breaks off into another trill, gathering Duck even closer as he spills into him. The human rests his check on the feathered part of his chest, sighing happily as Indrid plays with his hair. 

“Since I see you asking, yes, we can try some different things if that part of you needs a rest.”

He makes sure Duck is laying comfortably on his back, then straddles him so his cock drips pre-cum at the center of his chest.

“Use your hand, sweet one, and I will use mine.”

“To do whaAAAfuck, ohfuckyeah.” He hurriedly strokes the cock before him as Indrid cups his chest, pinching and teasing his nipples. They’re sensitive, having gone untouched for years, and that combined with the fact that they’re exactly how he wants them to be makes Duck whimper and eagerly work his cock. 

“Mmmmm, you turn such lovely colors when I play with you like this. Would you--ahhhnn, yes, use your thumb like that--like me to get you some jewelry for them.”

Duck whines, nodding his head as the image of Indrid affixing a god chain to each one floods his mind. 

“I could even make ones that connect chains from here to your wrists or neck; that way I could play with them no matter what direction I took you fromOH, oh, oh, oh” he smirks as cum spatters up Duck’s neck and chin, “you do like that idea. Here I thought it was idle dirty talk.”

“Nope, fuck, darlin, I wanna do so many goddamn things with you, wanna do every filthy thing two folks can do.”

“Is that so? In that case” he crawls a few inches, sets the shiny head of his cock on Duck’s lips, “open.”

Duck obeys, loses himself in the sensation of Indrid ravishing his throat as he tells him how’d he leave him tied on a bed and fuck him every hour. He uses his foresight to keep from pushing to far. All the same, by the time cum drips down to his stomach his jaw is sore and his lips swollen. 

Over the next few hours Indrid fucks him a half-dozen ways, from kneeling on the ground to suck his dick to working his cock into his ass in increments as he coos praise into his ear. 

By late afternoon, Duck is exhausted and Indrid is close to joining him. The fae stays on top of him, fucking him so lazily that at times they barely move. In place of their earlier ardor are whispered confessions and languid kisses, even a few jokes. Duck takes advantage of the lull to groom Indrid’s feathers into order, the fae humming happily under his touch.

Twilight approaches and lamps flicker to life outside the tent. Indrid reaches up, turning on the lamp above them.

“We have about twenty minutes until they call the ceremony to an end. And the new arrangement of light means they can see our shadows.”

In spite of himself, Duck moans.

“Does my sweet husband like being watched?”

“Only with the tent up. Fuck, ‘Drid, the idea of them knowin’ I’m yours. Knowin’ what you do to me…”

A wicked smile flashes into view and then Indrid maneuvers him onto his hands and knees. This time, he thrusts in hard and sets a rough pace, Duck crying out in pleased surprise when he does. 

“I think they deserve a little show. Deserve to see how lucky I am, and how eager you are.” His fingers dig into Duck’s hips as fucks him harder. Duck tries to stifle his next moan, the sound broken and desperate, and Indrid tuts, “None of that. I want them all to hear you. I want them to know how, even after a day of spreading your legs for me, you are still pleading for your husband to fill you again.”

“Holy fuck, ‘Drid, yes.”

Cool fingers run down his right thigh, through the still-wet lines of cum, “Just look at this. This sinful body of yours is practically covered in my spend, and yet you want more.”

“Yeah, fuck, yes I want it ‘Drid, want you, want you forevermmmph!” Cum-streaked fingers shove into his mouth, don’t leave until he sucks them clean.”

“You do not mean that, that is just these needy holes of yours talking” he gives a sharper thrust for emphasis. 

“No it ain’t, ‘Drid, pleaseplease.” It comes out as a sob and the fae stops, leaning down to hiss in his ear. Outside sounds of townspeople taking themselves in hand or bending each other over just out of sight fill the air, but Indrid’s voice drowns them out. 

“Do you really mean it? Do you wish to be with me?”

“Yes, ‘Drid, for fucks sake, you know I can’t lie. I fuckin hated bein away from you, thought about you everyday. Please I, I think I’m in love with you and if I ain’t, pretty goddamn certain I’ll get there.”

Indrid pushes him down to his elbows, “I feel the same. Now, listen carefully…”

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

The last few minutes of Green Wedding are the most vigorous anyone has seen in years. As the sun sets and the tent goes dark the onlookers agree that the Newton boy won’t be able to walk for days. 

What they are not expecting is to open the tent and find it empty. The fact that the fae guards are equally surprised could suggest genuine spontaneity, some strange agreement between the “grooms.” Or maybe it is simply part of the act. After all, fae are fae. 

[idmakeitbehave]

This I Know {Spencer x Reader}

Chapter Two

masterlist

series table of contents

summary: your first... re-introduction (?) featuring actual angel penelope garcia

word count: 1.9k

You awoke alone, the morning light shining through the window. The snow from yesterday covered the outside world and created an idyllic, peaceful scene. You glanced at the chair that Spencer had been sitting in last night. His messenger bag lay there and you breathed a sigh of relief. He was still here.

You weren’t sure why you felt this strongly about this stranger staying with you. Something about the way he looked at you, the way his hand felt in yours. 

There was whispering outside of your hospital room, two voices speaking quietly amongst themselves.  You could tell that one was Spencer, but the other was higher, a woman’s voice talking rapidly. 

“Spencer?” you called weakly, desperate to know what was going on. His head came into view around the doorframe and he waved at you awkwardly. “Spence?” His eyes brightened when you said that, and oh, how you longed to keep that look on his face forever. 

“Good morning,” he murmured, stepping into the room. He wore the same cardigan as yesterday, though it was rumpled now, and his hair stood out at wild angles. You felt that same unfamiliar urge to reach out and touch him, to smooth down his curls. 

“Spencer!” hissed the second voice that you had heard from the hallway.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Is that a nurse?”

“Um, no,” he admitted sheepishly. “That’s Penelope. One of our friends- and our coworker. Is it alright if she comes in?”

Alright, so you worked with Spencer- and this Penelope, whoever she was. There was one tiny piece to the vast, baffling puzzle of the last two years. 

You nodded. Might as well start meeting people. It would do you absolutely no good to sit here alone and continue to freak yourself out over what had happened. 

Spencer stuck his head out into the hall, motioning for Penelope to come in. A woman in a bright yellow dress and heels walked through the doorway. Her glasses were the same shade as her clothes, and she had her hair in pigtails, wrapped with pink fuzzy hair ties. She was sunshine personified and you couldn’t help but smile at her automatically. 

“Hi,” she spoke quietly but with a patient smile as she moved to sit in the chair next to Spencer. “I’m Penelope.” 

“Hi Penelope. I’d tell you who I am, but I guess you already know.” 

Penelope nodded, her brightly colored nails gripping the bag she held in her lap. “It’s really good to see you.” 

“Honestly, it’s really good to see you too,” you replied sincerely. “Even if I have no idea why.”

Her smile grew bigger at your words and you smiled again in return. The light reflected off of one of her earrings and your eye was drawn to them. One was a painter’s palette, the other a paintbrush.

“I love your earrings,” you murmured. 

Penelope’s eyes widened, her hand reaching up to touch one of them. “You- you actually gave them to me.” Spencer grinned besides her as he looked between the two of you. 

You chuckled lowly. “I guess I have good taste.” 

“Oh that you do,” Penelope nodded eagerly in response, her blond pigtails shaking. 

You looked back down at the bag she was holding. “Whatdya got there?” 

“Oh,” Penelope exhaled. “Well, Spencer here told me that your doctor told him that pictures might be able to help you get your memories back. So I brought all of the photos I have of us, if you want to look at them. It’s okay if you don’t want to- I totally understand.” 

You looked at Spencer for reassurance, for a reason you couldn’t quite determine. He nodded encouragingly and you smiled at him. “I think that would be great, Penelope. But first, can you guys tell me what we do for work?”

Penelope’s mouth dropped open and she whacked Spencer playfully on the side of the head. “You haven’t told her, Boy Wonder?” 

“Ow!” Spencer rubbed his head dramatically, and you let out a small laugh. The noise delighted him and his eyes welled up as they met yours. You stared at each other for a moment before blinking back into reality. 

“Okay, so, we work at the Behavioral Analysis Unit- do you know what that is?” Penelope spoke patiently. 

Now it was your turn for your mouth to drop. “You’re fucking kidding me. The BAU? I got out of the Atlanta field office?” 

“Oh, did you ever. You’ve been on our team for two years- I’m sure Genius over here can give you an exact date.” 

Spencer nodded excitedly, resting his chin on his hands. “Your first day was October 21st, 2008.” 

You blinked at the two of them wildly. That was only three months from your last solid memory. How had so much changed so quickly? 

It was like Spencer could read your mind. “The position opened up on August 1st, and you interviewed with Hotch on August 22nd. The process was fairly straightforward from there and you began almost exactly two months later.”

You raised your eyebrow, looking first at Spencer then at Penelope. “How do you remember the exact dates?”

“Oh, angel, I meant genius quite literally,” Penelope laughed and Spencer’s face flushed red. “Our handsome doctor over here has a ridiculously high IQ, an eidetic memory, and an insane- and I mean insane- reading speed.” 

“Doctor? Like 1,000 words per minute?” you asked, your voice a mixture between teasing and astonishment. 

“PhD, not medical. And 20,000,” Spencer replied matter-of-factly.

“Wow,” you exhaled, “I’m dating a fucking superhero.” 

Penelope snorted at your words, and Spencer let out a quiet laugh. You looked up at him again and studied his sharp cheekbones and the soft hair that fell in his face- he really was beautiful.

“Alright, show me the pictures!” You clapped your hands and the eagerness in your voice made Spencer chuckle again. The sound was like the sweetest music you had ever heard and you again felt the strange desire to make him laugh like that forever. 

Penelope pulled a bright purple laptop out of her bag, propping it up on the side of the hospital bed. She clicked around for a second and a slideshow popped up on the screen with the words Badass Crime Fighters written in curly font. “Okay, so I kinda went overboard and made a whole powerpoint…” 

“Oh, you absolute star. I love it already.” You leaned forward enthusiastically. “Alright, let me see!” 

Penelope clicked and the next slide popped up. It was a photo of you with seven people in someone’s house- or was it a mansion? You stood near the middle, Spencer’s arm wrapped around you. Your head was leaning on his shoulder and you were smiling serenely at each other, paying no mind to the camera. 

“This is the team,” Penelope explained, pointing to each person as she spoke. “That’s bossman Aaron Hotchner; our daredevil Emily Prentiss; Jennifer Jareau, but we call her JJ; then there’s you and Spencer, of course, you absolute sweethearts; my chocolate thunder Derek Morgan next to me; and our most wonderful host, David Rossi.” 

Your eyes darted across the screen, taking in each face in front of you, desperate to remember them. “You didn’t tell me being smoking hot was a prerequisite to being in the BAU.” 

Spencer let out a snort of a laugh, blowing his hair up out of his face. 

“You doubt me, Doctor?” You smirked teasingly. “Have you looked in a mirror lately?”

“That’s what I keep telling him!” gushed Penelope, laughing along with you as Spencer’s cheeks turned red.

“Show me more! More beautiful people!” The thoughts were swirling in your head as you stared at the photo on the screen. This was your life? Your friends, your coworkers? Their faces were all so inviting, their smiles warm. You ached to remember them.

Penelope clicked again and the next photo slid into view. You stood with Penelope and Spencer in this one, the three of you dressed as various iterations of characters from Doctor Who- Penelope as the 11th Doctor, Spencer as the 4th, and you as the 10th. 

“Ohhh,” you cooed. “We look adorable. Spence, I love that scarf.” 

“I knitted it myself,” he admitted proudly. Penelope beamed at the two of you, smiling at the easy way you used the familiar nickname before clicking to the next picture. You stood with Penelope and the two other women from the group photo, dressed casually with drinks in your hands.

You pointed at the brunette. “Emily. And that means the other blonde is…. JJ.” 

“Yes, you got it! Gold star!”

You couldn’t help but laugh along with Penelope. Her enthusiasm was infectious. 

“This was one of our infamous girls nights. We went dancing and had way too many margaritas. You had to drag us back to your apartment. I swear Emily was going to kill that guy who kept hitting on her, but then you pretended to be her girlfriend and he left.” 

Your jaw dropped. “I did- I did what?” 

Spencer smirked, nodding at Penelope. “Mhm, you came home with them and after they all passed out you woke me up with the most shameful look on your face. You scared the crap out of me and then you just blurted out, ‘I kissed Emily.’ I was so confused, but you very sloppily explained to me the creepy guy following her around and I understood exactly what you did. You always did- you always do anything for your friends. I could never be mad at that. And you were too darn cute.” 

You scoffed, feeling your cheeks burning red. “Wow, we sound crazy.”

“The best kind of crazy,” Penelope nodded. She clicked to the next slide and you let out a laugh at the photo.

A man- Derek, you thought- held you up in his arms. You had your arms spread wide, almost like jazz hands, a theatrically ecstatic look on your face. Spencer stood beside the two of you, holding your feet in his hands and pretending to groan from the strain as if he were the one lifting you up. Two older men were in the photo too, one on either side. They both had their arms crossed, stern looks on their faces as they looked at the three of you. The more severe one- Hotch?- pulled off the cross look better than the other one. The second man had a slight smirk on his face. David, you reminded yourself. Dave? Rossi? You weren’t quite sure what to call him. They seemed to use first and last names and nicknames so interchangeably that your mind swam.

Penelope clicked again and the next photo filled the screen, another group shot of the eight of you. You were all dressed professionally, except for Penelope and her hot pink dress, and the casualness of your stances and lightness of your grins contrasted with the crisp dress shirts and suit jackets. Here it was, right in front of you. Your life. The pieces were coming together, the edges of your memory still foggy but slowly gaining clarity. 

“Wow.” A tear slid down your cheek, smiling at the photo as you instinctively reached for Spencer’s hand. He was surprised by the motion, but responded easily by lacing his fingers through yours. “I- oh, wow. I really hope I remember you guys. You- you look like my family.”

“We are,” Spencer replied with absolute certainty. 

Penelope nodded again, tears welling in her eyes. “We are, sweetie. And you’ll remember us. I’m sure of it. We’ll be there every step of the way.” 

“I don't care about whose DNA has recombined with whose. When everything goes to hell, the people who stand by you without flinching--they are your family.” 

-Jim Butcher

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[love-anddeepression]

You’re not him-Chapter 4

Mobius was holding a candy box called Kablooie, which you recognized.

"Kablooie." he said.

" What's that?" Loki asked.

"Candy. Do you have candy on Asgard?" Mobius says.

"Yeah, grapes, nuts."

"Huh, well no wonder your so bitter." he says before grabbing a large bunch of files and heading to the desk leaving you and Loki to follow him.

"Okay, so Kablooie was only sold regionally on Earth from 2047 to 2051, so we need to cross reference that with every apocalyptic event, I'm gonna give you half, Y/n take a few from him, have a competition see who finds it." Mobius explains.

"Sure." Loki says seeming interested in the 'competition'

" You wanna bet on something?, Yeah a bet, let's play for pride, may the best person win!" Mobius declares.

Rolling your eyes with a small smile, you take the files Loki hands you.

~~~~

"Anything?" Mobius asks, going through a file.

"Uh, it's not the climate disaster of 2048." Loki replies

"Or the Tsunami of 2051." you pipe in, not looking up from your pile.

"Let's go, let's go come on." Mobius chants.

"2050..the extinction of the swallow.." Loki reads out.

"That's a thing?" you say, a little shaken up at number of natural disaster and problems.

"Completely screwed up the ecosystem.." Mobius answers.

"Krakatoa erupted in 2049 as well." you say

"No kablooie" Loki says.

"God, it's just one damn thing after another, isn't it?" Mobius muses.

"Tell me about it." you scoff.

"Cyclones, famine, volcanoes,floods-"

"Got him!" Loki says, holding up the file, "That's where he is."

"Alabama, 2050." you say reading the file.

Leaning forward, Mobius looks at Loki and smirks," You're gonna take my job, if I'm not careful."

" Ok, pack it up, Lovebirds!" you say giggling, while simultaneously feeling this unreasonable jealousy.

Playfully glaring at you, Loki leans back and lets out a little breath.

" I have to go to Ravonna and ask her  to approve a fully-armed task force, this mission, if it even happens, is really important." Mobius gets up and you and Loki closely follow.

~~

Mobius was inside Renslayer's office, you and Loki were waiting outside. To pass the time, you decided to play a game.

" Ok, tell me about a time you scared your brother" you ask, hoping to hear the iconic snake story.

" Ohhh, I have a good one, we were about eight at the time, and you see, Thor loves snakes, so to scare him, I transformed myself into a snake and he picked it up to admire it and then I transformed back into myself and said, " MEUH IT'S ME! and stabbed him." he said smiling at the memory.

"My turn!" you say

" Ok, were you ever in love with someone?" he said.

Shit.

Shit.

SHIT. FRICK.GODDAMMIT.

Taking a deep breath, you for yourself to look at him.

"Yes. Yes I was." you say smiling lightly.

"Oh! tell me about this lucky person." he says interested, and..is that a tinge of jealousy in his voice?

YOU DAFT DUMB IDIOT! IT'S YOU OK! WHAT THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO SAY RIGHT NOW?!

" Well, he was one of the most caring, sweet, and amazing people, I had ever met in my life, he loved forehead kisses.  But h-he was murdered, right in front of me" you say sadly, eyes becoming moist.

" Oh, I'm sorry about that." he says sympathetically.

" What about you, were you ever in love?" you ask, when Loki was alive, he didn't tell you much about his past relationships, mainly because you never asked.

" Well, I've had my fair share of  relationships, but in most of them there was nothing ever......authentic or real.." .

You selfishly sigh in happiness on the inside.

"-except one girl." he continued.

What.the.ever.loving.fuck.

"Oh, nice so who was she?" you ask, jealousy raging and burning inside you.

" Oh, well her name was Astrid and I really loved her, we talked about marriage and things like that, but then she was married to a duke of Vanaheim."

"Huh, I'm sorry."

" It's alright, it was for the best."

The awkward silence is broken by Mobius walking out of the office.

"So? Are we on?" you ask.

" We're on" he replies, walking to the locker room.

~~

"I'm telling you, you help us catch this variant, and who knows my friend-" Mobius begins.

" What good enough for a face to face with the time keepers?" Loki asked, while you headed to your locker.

"I didn't say that, one step at a time."

" Ok, one step at a time."

Reaching into his locker, Mobius pulls out a pair of daggers and hands them to him, " Just in case."

While Loki fawns over them, Hunter B-60 immediately comes and snatches them away, putting them in her own locker, leaving Loki adorably pouting and you laughing.

"Gather around for a briefing!" she announces.

After everyone is gathered, she begins.

"Roxxcart is a vast superstore common to the era, it consists of a series of sprawling sections, including a large warehouse. This warehouse is being used by civilians as a shelter trying to ride the storm. Remember this is a class-10 apocalypse, while the Variant wouldn't know we're coming, he could be hiding anywhere, and should be considered hostile. So stay alert. Every time there is an attack, the Variant steals a reset charge, he's planning something, we just don't know what. So keep an eye out for the missing charges, and if you see a Loki, prune it."

"The bad Loki, preferably." Loki pipes in.

~~

Destination, Haven Hills, Alabama.

Year, 2050.

It's pouring outside and as you walk in, there's a flash of thunder. Out of habit, you look up expecting Thor, only to look at Loki and seeing him so the same.

Poor sweetie.

Walking into the store, you immediately see Loki use his magic to dry himself, and that reminded you,

Shit, I can do magic.

So you did the same, only the color of your magic was gold.

Loki looked surprised as hell.

" The hell was that?" Hunter asked Loki.

Loki, looking surprised that you could do magic, said to her, " That was me, using magic to dry my clothes, so I don't announce myself with every squeaky footstep like the rest of you." he says.

The lights flicker making all of you alert.

"Ok, take two teams and sweep the storm shelter." she says.

"Loki and I are gonna check out the greenhouse, we'll mee-" Mobius begins

"No" Hunter says.

" No? He's under my supervision" Mobius, argues.

They argue back and forth making you get frustrated.

"Ok, enough! Mobius let Loki go with her, I'll scout on my own." you butt in.

Begrudgingly, he allows Loki to go with B-60.

~~

As you go through and check the aisles, you see Loki and B-60, talking to someone with his hands up.

"It's a hurricane sale, azaleas are half off." the guys says.

" Could that be you?" B-60 asked.

"I mean I probably would have worn a suit, but yes, maybe."

You walk over and stand next to Loki, " Who's the guy?"

" We're about to find out." he replies.

Hunter makes her way to the guy, prune stick( is it called a prune stick? if anyone knows what it's called, please tell me) charged. As she goes near him, he grabs hold of her arm and you can see a flash of green magic make its way up Hunter's arm, the man falls to the ground.

"Is he dead?" Loki asks not realizing what happened.

"Loki, that's not Hunter." you say.

" No, they usually survive." Hunter, no, the Variant says.

Facing Loki, she says," So you're the fool the TVA brought in to hunt me down."

"Me, I presume." Loki says

"Please, if anyone's anyone, you're me." she says smiling cheekily at him.

He retaliates by smiling wider.

Rolling your eyes, you scoff.

Children, literal children

"How nice to meet you."

~~

In the surveillance room, Mobius and the others find C-20

The poor girl looks traumatized, saying one thing over and over again.

"It's real, it's real, it's real." she says shaking, her voice wavering

Speaking into a comm, Mobius says, "Y/n, we need y-"

~~

"Enchantment is a clever trick." Loki says, as you all walk around." Cowardly, a bit amateur-ish, but clever."

"Almost as cowardly as working for the TVA." the Variant replies.

"I'm working for me."

"You really believe that don't you?"

"Yes."

"Heh, and here I was worried that they found a better version of me."

This is getting boring

"Hi, are you guys looking for the disaster shelter?" a worker asks.

"No." the Variant says before enchanting him and taking over his body, Hunter falling to the ground, Loki and you go to check on her.

"Oh bless, you gonna call you're little friends for help?" the Variant says.

" What's the matter, you too scared to meet me face-to-face?"

"Y/n, we need you here, come to the surveillance room, we have a problem."

Slowly backing away, you leave and teleport to the surveillance room.

~~

"It's real, it's real, it's real, it's real-" C-20 kept saying over and over again.

"What's real?" you ask.

" She's off the dial." an agent replies.

"Look at me c-20, what's real?" you repeat

"I wanna go home." she says eyes wide.

" We're gonna get you there, call the TVA and let the infirmary kno-"

"No, I gave it away!" she shouts

"What, what did you give away?" Mobius asks.

" The Time Keepers! Where they are!"

In shock, you look at the live camera footage of the shop and you see Loki getting beaten up.

"Shit, Mobius I'll be back." you say and teleport to a different part of the store

~~

You arrive just in time to see a hooded-figure in front of Loki and you.

"Where did you go? I got my ass whooped." he asks you

"The Variant knows where the Time- keepers are." you reply

The hooded figure comes forward and lifts the hood to reveal a-

Holy shit.

a beautiful lady is standing in front of you, wearing the signature horns, her hair is like Loki's except it's blonde. Blonde?

"This isn't about you." she says

In shock you just nod and Loki slowly says, "Right."

At that exact moment, a timer goes off and and the lights go out, the only source of light coming from.... wait is that a TemPad?

"INITIALISING"

Everything becomes brighter and you can see lots and lots of reset charges, each one going into a different timeline.

The lights flicker red and you can see the lady wave and then walk into a time-door.

You can also hear Mobius shouting in the distance.

You and Loki look behind and then at each other and nod before running through the door after her.

The last thing you hear is Mobius shouting.

Crap.

[apex-academy]

Chapter 5: Caring Is a Hazard to Your Health (#28)

Once our little break is over, everyone gathers to go to the gym.

Or actually, stop by the cafeteria first to grab a few supplies, and then to the gym. I end up getting volunteered to carry one of the little round tables. What kind of sports are we doing with these?

“...”

Moving on.

Kanagi has already made it to the top of the still-collapsed bleachers seconds after the rest of us step inside. She waves us down.

“You can set ‘em up wherever, dudes! We got three, right?”

“As far as I can tell.”

After a minute’s wandering, we set up the tables at vaguely regular intervals. Kanagi goes around giving them a kick—to make sure they don’t collapse, I guess??—but doesn’t pull up any chairs or anything else before returning to the bleachers.

“All right, dudes! We’re gonna kick this thing off with some arm wrestling!”

“Yaaaay!”

How are you excited? Your arms are freaking toothpicks.

“We’ve already determined our first matches! We’ll still go one at a time so we can all cheer each other on, but! If you’d like to wait at your tables!”

I don’t remember signing up for this. But three tables means two of us aren’t going, right?

...Betting Aidan’s one of them.

“Arright! At Table 1...”

“...whichever one that is...”

“...we’ve got Ich versus Yuks!”

“Okay...”

“Yay~”

The F-tier arm-wrestling league, I see. At least they’re trying to keep the first round fair. Ichiriki and Yuki head off for the closest table to get situated. Which is a sport of its own at at a low table too large to reach across easily, with no chairs.

“And then Table 2 isssss Kaich versus Kakumi!”

“Is it, now.”

“Nice.”

Kaichi heads for the table closest to the arbitrarily designated Table 1. I don’t have sufficient grounds to object, so I go over, too.

“And me and Iggy for Table 3!”

“Why is Kogamino the only one you don’t have to nickname?”

“Cuz she’s, like, kinda a butt about it.”

“And Mahavir isn’t?”

Well, whatever. Maybe she has trouble with foreign names. Or maybe she... just does whatever. I’m not here to try to figure her out.

“Oh... So Tsunyasha doesn’t get to play...?”

“A wise choice.” 

“Any of you sinners attempting to make physical contact with the Holy Assassin... Well, it would only serve to burn you terribly.”

“Like, actually I was hoping you’d help Aid set up the next game?”

“You think—”

“Cool, thanks, dude!”

“I—excuse me?”

Did Kanagi just win the random-off? Steep competition, too.

“All right!! We’ll begin with Table 1! Mister Tokino, Miss Kurokame, please prepare to face off!”

Yuki gives Ichiriki a very slow yet fairly shallow bow.

“I’m sorry... if I’m not very good competition.”

“That’s okay!! I have no idea what I’m doing!”

“Like... You do know how you’re supposed to stand ‘n’ stuff at least, right?”

“Nope!”

“Hummmm... I think it’s like this...?”

Wow, no idea why this duo wasn’t chosen for the climactic final battle.

With Kanagi’s intervention, they manage to get set up, though.

“And—Go!”

It either takes them a minute to respond to the command, or they just can’t exert enough force to make a visible difference. 

“Who am I supposed to root for again?”

“I usu’lly go with whoever’s winning.”

“Thanks.”

“Go go go go!”

“I’m trying...”

“This is fun!”

“It seems like an even match! Who will emerge victorious?”

I said no color commentary, but go off I guess.

It’s significantly more interesting to watch Tsunyasha bringing out tennis balls rather than the actual competition, but eventually we have a winner.

“Hahaha! I lost.”

“It was close, hummmm...”

“Nnnnnice.” I think she’s trying to wake up again. “Good job, Yuks!”

“Ohhh, is it Table 2′s turn now?!”

“Yup! You dudes ready?”

“ ‘S born ready, brah.”

“You do actually know what you’re supposed to be doing, right?”

“Oh, I never know what ‘m doing.”

He puts an elbow on the table and leans in. I stare for a minute.

“What, y’ bugging out ‘cause y’ get t’ hold a cute guy’s hand?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Gooooo, Kakumi!”

“Oh, right... we’re supposed to be cheering.”

“Um, go... everyone...?”

Weirdest sports day I’ve ever had.

I’ll get booed off the face of the planet if I don’t start soon, so I settle in and wait for Aidan’s countdown. Then the pressure is on. Literally. Kaichi may be a skinny guy, but what body mass he does have seems to be muscle.

I put in a passable effort, but it’s still over in a few more seconds. At least I offered enough resistance to keep my knuckles from getting crushed into the tabletop.

“Good game, brah.”

“Yeah...”

And once I’m out, I’m not paying attention to the rest. Guess I’m not a good spectator, but I don’t think any of us know who we’re supposed to be cheering for. It’s just weird to take sides for something like this. Or maybe it’s just me. I’ve never been that big on the whole sports scene. 

For some reason, Yuki versus Kaichi is next—two guesses who wins that one—and then Kanagi versus Mahavir. Whether Mahavir would have won in better condition or not I’ll never know, but Kanagi sweeps it. And Kaichi’s no competition for her.

Not much of a tournament, huh? Probably comes with the territory when only one person in the class got invited as a Super High School Level athlete. Then again, that may not be a foregone conclusion. I’m pretty sure it’d be even less of a competition if Otoya was here.

“.......”

I’m not sure what hit me just now. Probably grief? Doesn’t quite sting enough. Guilt? Maybe. ...Wistfulness? I don’t know. It’s still too hard to untangle the emotions. The best description I can put together is just a sort of dull throb in my head.

I... miss him, I guess. Odd thing to say about someone I barely ever saw, but. You don’t have to hang out all the time to be friends.

“W-we’re… fr-fr-friends, r-right?”

"......”

Before the fourth case, I hadn’t really had to deal with this kind of loss. Kazusuke? Not even close to friends. Mary Jane? Same. Kokoro? Probably close, but we just didn’t have time to get to know each other. Aidan... betrayed me, I guess? At least, that was the easiest way to think about it. And...

...he’s also alive now, so not a great time to be thinking about his loss.

But then Arthur, Itsurou... still pretty neutral. And if we’re talking about betrayals...

“...”

I can’t even feel bad about sending her to the chair. Even if it seemed like we were basically friends, it was all a lie. Maybe she did care for me, but she sure wasn’t the person I cared for. She acted like someone else had done her harm instead of her doing the harm herself.

I hate people playing the victim. It just makes it harder for real victims to...

“Yo, brah?”

I jolt and find myself in the gym. Good to know I didn’t wander out.

“What?”

“You’re playing, right? Even if ‘s not really teams, might ‘s well keep ‘m even, yeah?”

“Uh...” 

What are we doing now? Something with tennis balls that isn’t a team sport but vaguely is? That... What kind of inference can I make from that?

Is this what it’s like to be Kaichi? Horrifying.

“Uh, yeah, just give me a sec.”

“No prob.”

With that, I retie some laces that didn’t really need it and head to the side of the gym with fewer people lined up.

Let’s do whatever I signed up for now, I guess.

Beats thinking too much.

[BACK] [NEXT]

[babysprouseisart]

tag game! get to know me

tagged by: the darling Anna @edamamechips​, thank you <3 Sorry, my dear, that I am answering so late, I appreciate your mention, and thank you for not forgetting me!

1. what is the color of your hairbrush? dark blue with black

2. name a food you never eat. liver or fish soup with cod/mackerel (I only accept trout/salmon soup, and it's not because I'm so rich or biased, I just don't like the smell of other fish)

3. are you typically too warm or too cold? if we are talking about temperature of the body, then - too cold, for sure, It’s because I have vegetative-vascular dystonia

4. what were you doing 45 minutes ago? I was taking the English grammar olympiad (contest)

5. what’s your favorite candy bar? Bounty bar or the sesame bar, cause I really love coconut and sesame

6. have you ever been to a professional sports game? no (if only the figure skating is considered a sport, then - yes)

7. what is the last thing you said out loud? ‘fuck it’ (not kidding)

8. what is your favorite ice cream? I like sherbet, fruit ice and a cone with any filling, but more with currant jam or chocolate.

9. what was the last thing you had to drink? had? a whole glass of water (for medicinal purposes)

10. do you like your wallet? I don’t work, don’t have any wallet, only some pocket money

11. what is the last thing you ate? soup and bread with ketchup and tomatoes, I suppose

12. did you buy any new clothes last weekend? nah

13. what’s the last sporting event you watched? Ummm, I sometimes watch F1 (Formula 1) with my brother (he plays it on his phone so fucking loud, so, yeah, here I am again, and I don’t now it is countable, but anyways)

14. what is your favorite flavor of popcorn? sweet popcorn is my favourite 

15. who is the last person you sent a text message to? I rarely send text messages (SMS), cause I have a pushbutton phone right now, and it takes a lot of time to send a text message, but I have messaged my classmate by telegram using computer recently.

16. ever been camping? no (only had been in the forest searching the mushrooms several times and had a quick bite sitting on the glade)

17. do you take vitamins? yes, I often take ascorbic acid

18. do you regularly attend a place of worship? no, just on occasions sometimes

19. do you have a tan? no, why? And it’s weird, cause: 1) It’s autumn and it is getting colder and colder and it is raining sometimes, so no almost sun and 2) I NEVER get a tan, I just immediately get burned under the open rays of sunshine. 

20. do you prefer chinese or pizza? hmmm, I remember trying chinese food and I getting sick after, and I haven’t tried it again, so I am not completely familiar with it, I don't know if I really enjoy it, that’s why - pizza

21. do you drink your soda through a straw? nooo... But fun fact: I love drinking soda with a loaf or with drying with poppy seeds

22. what color socks do you usually wear? I usually wear beige nylon socks (with shoes) or white socks (with sneakers)

23. do you ever drive above the speed limit? I don’t drive by myself at all, but, yeah, my brother and dad do sometimes

24. what terrifies you? a lot of things actually... Like, death of the relatives, upcoming exams, unfairness of life (more like irritates me), poverty, war, the possibility of non-reciprocal love, violence, cruelty, drunkenness and drug addiction of the partner and suffering with a child alone, I do not know, there are other fears, like heights and spiders, but much simpler...

25. look to your left, what do you see? notebooks and telephone

26. what chore do you hate most? cleaning the kitchen and mopping the floor

27. what do you think of when you hear an australian accent? I feel curious and think about australia: kangaroo, coalas, Sydney, Stewart and Meghan (native speakers with whom we sometimes have classes), the tribes, the heat

28. what’s your favorite soda? Duchess, Mojito, Schweppes

29. do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive thru? 50/50, sometimes I don’t have time to sit inside, and sometimes, when, for example, I hang out with my friends, I go inside and sit there eating

30. what’s your favorite number? I don’t have one and only, it changes every time, let it be 25, my birthday number

31. who’s the last person you talked to? my brother, Alexey

32. favorite meat? beef I think, but I also love chicken

33. last song you listened to? oh, God, grant me memory it was daytime and now it's evening... I think it was “What you do to me” by John Legend

34. last book you read? errr, only school programe, so - “Sotnikov” by V. Bykov”, Russian story about war

35. favorite day of the week? according to the school timetable - monday, and in general - friday

36. can you say the alphabet backwards? ohhh, no, i am so silly, yeah? 

37. how do you like your coffee? I like coffee in any shape, form or whatever, just give me coffee and I am yours... *winks*

Just kidding, I really love latte (with milk)  

38. favorite pair of shoes? actually, I love my autumn boots, they are cute and fit anything

39. time you normally get up? at half past 6am at weekdays or at 11am on the weekends

40. what do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets? sunsets are my love

Just look at this:

41. how many blankets are on your bed? one currently, cause it’s pretty warm still

42. describe your kitchen plates: ummm, i don’t know what does this exactly mean, but...we have the flat small plates, they are mostly white with a pattern of flowers, or deeper, with a gold border (border) or with a pattern, there are also salad bowls of different colors and saucers for tea or lemon

43. describe your kitchen at the moment: what? okay, there is now soup and stuff cooking, kettle boiling, my brother is washing dishes and so on, we have only one finished part of the kitchen (white cabinets, table), a bit old stove, sink, spices and microwave on the windowsill, some other small things, we have a gas boiler there too...

44. do you have a favorite alcoholic drink? I don’t drink alcohol AT ALL, I have only tried energy drink (with caffeine)

45. do you play cards? yep, but rarely

46. what color is your car? I don’t have a car as I don’t drive

47. can you change a tire? again, for the 29325932 time - no car no problems

48. your favorite state or province? in our country there aren’t states, but I love the silent sceneric places, near the sea or lake, or river, I dont’ know, somewhere like this... Also, if we are considering other places, I love and would like to visit California, Florida, Oregon

49. favorite job you’ve had? to be honest, I haven’t had the job, only was planning to get one

tagging: @hbiccjsblog, @aliciarm, @cs-bh22, @raymondebidochonlifechoices, @aussiejonesandsprouse​, @monia-sprousehart and anyone who wants!

[currentlyreadingmanga]

Toilet-bound Hanako-kun Chapter 21: The Tea Party (Part 1)

Previously: we went on a very stressful and very emotional trip. We finally learned Hanako’s brother’s name: Tsukasa and he continued to unsettled me like he does every single time he appears. Mitsuba actually passed away, this time for good, it seemed and it made me tear up a bit ngl. After that, the chapter decided I hadn’t suffered enough so it punched me while I was down and showed us how Hanako feels about the existence of the dead as ghosts in general and how that reflects in his own sense of self. We also got another glimpse of the mermaid and she said some real ominous shit :)))) if anything happens to Nene istg :)))))) Sigh And last but not least, Natsuhiko went to see Nene at her classroom and I’m,,,,concerned,,,,

Now onto the next chapter!

Personal update for the 50 (holy shit?) of you that still follow this blog: Well…..hi there, it’s been a while ^^;; Looking back on it, quarantine really hit me like a bag of bricks and burned me out. It’s not the first time that has happened, and what it means to me is that I just can’t bring myself to consume new content; I might have loved it so far but my brain is like “nope, we’re not doing that today” and well, this time it happened for almost two months. Also, one of my cats went missing for a little over a week (he’s home now, thankfully) and that just added to the general distress I was feeling. But over the last week I actually wrote small fics for another fandom and it finally pushed me back into a creative state, so I went back to re-read the last couple of recaps I did for JSHK and it made me realise that I miss my babies and I really want to know where the story goes, so here I am c:

Ohhhh that’s right, we’re starting a new volume with this chapter! Our main trio is front and center and judging by the colorful pastries and the tea, it is a reference to the tea party that was alluded to in the preview of the last chapter. Also, I see the ropes are back again, but this time Kou also has some around him! Nene and Hanako seem to be tied together with pink, blue and yellow ropes, Nene and Kou seem to be tied together with an orange rope and both Hanako and Kou seem to have another rope each that it’s not connected to neither Nene nor each other. Hanako’s is red and considering the way in which we’ve seen him tied up before, I would guess this represents his connection to Tsukasa. Kou’s is pink and considering everything that just happened, could his rope represent his connection with Mitsuba? Like, I know he’s dead dead now and their actual friendship was short-lived but I would also like to think that even though he’s gone, his memory will live forever with Kou, hence the rope. But I’m speculating and I already went on a long enough tangent for the cover page so let’s move on.

The next color page has the main trio again as the central focus in what seems to be the inside of a place that has a clockwork-like mechanism. On the corners of the page we have who I assume will be important character during the following arc(s): Aoi, Akane, Yamabuki and Teru (the latter one worries me slightly ngl). 

Ohhhh okay, the content page says that one of the arcs is called “the three clock keepers” so the art on that page now makes more sense.

……….I really don’t trust him hhhhh please be careful, Nene, please don’t let your weakness for pretty boys cloud your judgement.

Ohhh it could be because of Nene’s dress and the bunny ears (and the twins) but the title page gives me strong Alice in Wonderland vibes. It’s a cute picture but Tsukasa is there and Nene is tearing up so I’m,,,concerned 

Okay so Nene followed Natsuhiko outside and 

Are you reciting her your dating profile or something? also “call me Natsuhiko-senpai ♡” omfg he’s one of those, huh? Like, it could all be an act but he’s looking less and less threatening by the minute lol

Nene, bless her, has the common sense of asking him why he wanted to talk to her all of the sudden and he says it’s because “someone wants to meet her”. Gee, I wonder who that could be :)))))

…………….oh, oh no. Nene, sweetie, I need you to run and to run fast because this boy is up to no good and you’re not gonna  like what’s gonna happen. (Edit note: also this brings up a question: how did the chaotic trio know that Nene turns into a fish when she touches water? Like, I know they had been keeping tracks on her and Hanako for some time, so maybe they found out that way? Oh, maybe they use the Mokke? Because the Mokke were there in Yako’s boundary when Hanako pushed Nene down the waterfall)

Hhhhhhh and to the surprise of no one, there’s Tsukasa here to make Nene’s day more difficult.

asdasgdjash please do not make my daughter share the same fate as the puffer fish, she doesn’t deserve it (ﾟдﾟ；) (ﾟдﾟ；)

Nene fainted (can’t say I blame her jfc) and now she’s waking up in what seems to be the tea party and the floor is wet! so she thinks she could be on another boundary. Interesting, I wonder which number would this one be? Because the boundaries are assigned to the seven mysteries, right? So one of them should be in control of this place. Could Tsukasa be in control of this one? But that wouldn’t make much sense because he managed to get his “physical” form only recently, right? However, Hanako also spoke of a traitor that was changing rumors and we know that these three are responsible, so if they’re not the owners of the boundary maybe they somehow managed to manipulate the mystery that does control it? Oooor it could also be that there’s another boundary that managed to go under the radar and in turn the other mysteries don’t know about it.

sjdgjjasd she’s so done with them lol I know I call them the chaotic trio but it’s really the chaotic duo + Sakura. I’m so curious about how this whole *gestures wildly towards them* arrangement came to be.

Ohhhh this great! So Sakura got everything under control and from her introduction to Nene we now know that she’s a third year and we have confirmation that she became Tsukasa’s assistant in the same way that Nene did, in exchange for a wish. B U T, again, that brings up even more questions because Tsukasa said that while Amane granted the wishes of the living, he granted the wishes of the dead. So like (⚆.⚆) what’s up with that?? Is she an exception? Is she dead? Another supernatural? Or, maybe, even though it should be impossible considering what we know so far, could her wish have something to do with her being ‘alive’ in the school right now? Mhmmmm…...suspicious.

Okay but like, I actually really want to know how he fits in all of this because okay, Sakura and Tsukasa are linked together by the wish she made, but why is Natsuhiko here? Who is he? How did he end up working with these two?  He seems silly and completely whipped for Sakura, so maybe they knew each other before she made her “contract” with Tsukasa?  Hhhhh idk let’s keep reading.

Sakura says that she wanted to meet Nene because they’re in similar positions and she thought they could be good friends. And like, that’s a fair point…...but I don’t trust like that, no sir. Even if she didn’t want the boys to be so rough when they brought Nene here, the fact remains that they still kidnapped her so if this was just a friendly meeting, why would they need to do it in such a convoluted way?

Okay good, Nene is suspicious because of their methods and the amount of knowledge they have about her.

………………...sigh, I shouldn’t be surprised but bby no please don’t trust them so easily. She’s venting to Sakura about Hanako’s unpredictable behaviour and Sakura says that she can empathize with most of her struggles while Tsukasa is sitting on top of her shoulders and wrapping his arms and legs around here…...I can definitely see why she said he was cat-like because my cats do things like that when I’m sit down to write at my desk. But again, I know he’s technically a kid but I really need him to stop acting so cute because it unsettles me a lot.

Even he can see the romantic chemistry between those two. Well, thinking about it, that’s probably why they dragged her here, because she’s important to Hanako.

(;;⚆.⚆) NOPE, no, no thank you, I need you to back tf up please jfc

Nene snaps out of it and realizes that she let herself be drawn in by girl talk. She thankfully knows it was a stupid thing to do but she was just relieved and happy to have found someone who seems to understand what she’s going through, so I’ll cut her some slack. And she mentions that they don’t look like bad people but like I did, if they had innocent intentions, they wouldn’t have had to bring her by force.

………………...I feel like I’ve mentioned this before but I really hate it when either of them does this fucking face, it’s so creepy >n< also, Nene, sweetie, once again I’m asking you to run, run far and don’t look back because that look doesn’t spell anything good, especially paired with Sakura’s scared/resinged look (which makes me think that maybe her own intentions had been more innocent that I had originally given her credit for)

Hmmm. This is concerning; like, yes, Nene has to help Hanako with whatever he needs as his assistant as part of their deal and he does threaten to turn her into a fish when she pouts but I never got the feeling that it was malicious. On the other hand, Sakura’s wording (especially calling Tsukasa “Master” and saying she “can’t” disobey) and the look Tsukasa gave her make it seem like her punishment for not following his orders would be much more severe. hhhhh I really don’t like where this is going

Σ(ﾟДﾟ|||) Σ(ﾟДﾟ|||) Σ(ﾟДﾟ|||)  WHAT THE HELL THIS THAT THING WHAT THE EVER LOVING FUCK OH MY GO D

“We’re gonna have you disappear now” okay so, yeah, he’s doing this specifically to upset his brother. the room is fucking sinking though and omfg what even is this room?? is it really a boundary? Since this happened at this very moment, it looks like they do control it so my questions from before remain, the biggest one being “how”. Also I’ve just noticed that the eyes all over the place are very similar to the ones in the broadcasting room and now this tells me that those weren’t an artistic choice and that is terrifying.

…………………..excuse me, w h a t??? why? hello??? “she’s like this sometimes” ????? Sakura what???? I have….so many questions, the main one being why do you let her treat you like this??

……………………………………...oh…..y’know, I hate the term simp with a passion because I feel like it’s been memed to death but wow.

Hhhhhhhh it looks like she can’t stop sinking and that (and the fucking eyes) tell me that this is not normal water (since she would have turned into a fish already). She’s yelling out for Hanako and that’s how the chapter ends. I’m still :)))))) concerned :))))))))

[findingtheperfectcharacter]

Call me Pride

I'm eager and maybe just a little dumb because I was REALLY eager to write the 'whys ' of Roman's fall and... Yeah...  I tweaked a lot. Anyway this is loosely based on this prompt https://vaugleysassygrunt.tumblr.com/post/186357032949/whoa-okay-hear-me-out-here-open-prompt-but and was started before the recent episodes so Deceit's still nameless and the reasoning has nothing to do with All That.

Warnings for Unsympathetic Roman, Sympathetic Logan, Patton, Deceit and Remus, Toxic Roceit, Pride slaps someone, and sexual and violent humor (though nothing explicit happens.)

Roman knew this was coming. He had once again failed to create a video and it was time to get another lecture from Logic about scheduling and due dates. Ugh, for once he didn't want to respond when he was summoned. But he knew if he didn't rise up he'd be forced to come out unless he locked himself in his room and he certainly wasn't going to duck out over a matter like this. With a huff, he rose up.

Logic was starring at him, he always felt judged when he looked at him like that. Brown eyes narrowed through his rounded frames. "Roman, Thomas claimed that he was unable to create this weeks video due to quote 'lack of creative fervor'." He made air quotes with his hands when he said that, "And considering this is your department I believe it is of utmost importance to hear from you what is going on."

Roman shook his head, "Feeling as Princely as ever." He posed as if to prove it.

Logan looked at him for a few seconds and hummed curiously. Roman felt naked as he was starring at him, like the Logical side was reading his mind and noticing every unsavory flaw. He could barely hide his relief when he turned back to Thomas.

"Perhaps the others could help shine a metaphorical light on this situation."

Thomas nodded and moved his hand up, "Anxiety, Morality." He called summoning the two. Virgil looked even more anxious than usual, his eye shadow slightly smeared and his leg bouncing where he stood. Roman felt a twang of guilt in his chest.

"Virgil, Patton, can either of you explain why Thomas has not been creatively productive lately." Logan asked.

Patton cocked his head, "Not a clue Scooby Doo."

"I am not a fictional dog that helps a gang of people solve problems. I am a representation of Thomas's Logic you should know this by now."

"Yeah but the rhyme sure was neat!"

Virgil raised an eyebrow, "Haven't we done this before? Like, two times? It's probably going to be repetitive to the audience if we make yet another episode dealing with Logan and Roman having problems creating videos. They might think you're complaining to make them feel bad for you. Or worse, they might get bored and leave."

Patton struggled to keep his cheerful smile, "Aw come on now kiddo, sometimes lessons just take a bit to stick. The audience will understand that."

Logan frowned, "Returning to the topic at hand, if it isn't an excess of Anxiety, or moralizing your work that's causing this problem." He knit his brows and his lips pursed, "Is it me again?" He turned to Roman, " Roman, please tell me if I am once again putting too much pressure on you to create. I said I would work on being less, " he cleared his throat, "Overbearing but I'm not used to it yet."

He looked Roman in the eyes, "If I have failed in that recently, I would rather be told then to live in ignorance of my mistakes, as hard as that may be."

Roman hesitated, he knew the truth. This had nothing to do with Logan, or Virgil, or Patton. He'd lied about feeling like his Princely Self, he telt like his creations this last moth had been lackluster at best. Not even half as good as they needed to be to be taken to the front of Thomas's conscious. 

But he couldn't tell the others that, they would think he was insecure and if there was one thing Roman wasn't, it was insecure.

Instead he said, "I admit, the schedule has stopped me from being the best Prince that I can be. "He looked at the ground, mostly due to his own guilt over lying, he didn't want to see Logan's face. He didn't want to see how Virgil's eyes narrowed with suspicion.

"I see... Next time I promise I will ask for your input when building our scheduled to stop you from feeling so overwhelmed. "

Roman forced a small smile, "Thanks teach." He cleared his throat, " And with that I've got some things to create! "He sunk out returning to his room. He sighed and slumped on his bed, closing his eyes, giving a groan like a door with unoiled hinges. He felt like taking an hour long nap.

He heard a slow cap above him. "Oh bravo, Roman." A familiar voice drawled. He reached for his sword, staring face to face with the snake himself. His confident smirk didn't leave his face despite the sword at his nose. "I honestly couldn't have done it better myself."

Roman glared at him, "You better have a good reason for being in my room snakes -and-liars."

Deceit chuckled, "Oh but surely you've noticed Roman," he circled around him, Roman's sword texture changed to foam as his confidence wavered. "I bet it took you ages to find an outfit of yours that white."

Roman barely held back a growl. He was right of course, even as he stood here his golden epaulets were turning a sterling silver like the others.

"I’m sure Patton will never find out about your little secret. He's so unobservant." Deceit said, looking at his fingernails despite the fact that he was wearing gloves. "No one's ever tried to hide their nature from him after all." He smiles with a glint in his eye that made Roman's heart pound. "Which means we'll never see each other again Roman. "He blew a kiss and sunk out back to his side of the mindscape.

----

Remus kept glancing at the end of the hallway. He'd been checking since last Thursday when Deceit told him about how Roman was changing,but he couldn't help it! It'd been years since his brother had been on the same side as him. His stomach was doing flip flops like a fish out of water five seconds from the butcher chopping him into pieces. He wondered if he'd be willing to play with him. He could barely hide his cackle when he thought of the havoc they'd wreak together!

In the void a new door was starting to form, Remus squealed with delight and ran to Deceit's door, "DECEIT! DECEIT!" He squealed as he banged on the bright yellow door, "He's coming, he's coming!"

Deceit opened the door, his sleeping cap slightly askew , his eyes tired, "Remus how many times do I have to tell you I have no interest in the details of the porn you watch?"

Remus shakes his head, "No no, not that, though you should SEE what I was watching earlier, oh the things a man can do with whips." he moaned and squirmed but quickly shook his head, no Remus, focus. " But that's not what I meant! There's a new door in the hall! "

Deceit suddenly seems far more awake as he walked out into the hallway standing next to Remus. The pair watched as the symbol of a bright red throne with a silver tiara above it etched itself into the door. Remus was slightly confused by why his symbol would change, but hey, if his brother hadn't changed a little bit he wouldn't be down here! 

The door glowed and finally opened revealing him in all his glory, the midnight colored prince outfit with silver twinges along his neck and wrists, the bright red cape that flowee across his back, the silver tiara glimmering with jewels that looked just as much a part of him as his hands or toes. 

Remus couldn't help himself and tackled his brother to the ground, "ROMAN! Is that blood on your cape? It's the same color, can I lick it?"

 Roman grunted and sat himself up, "Hello Remus, nice to see you here. Ruining my clothing with your filth." Deceit offered his hand to Roman to help him up and he took it. 

 "As if any amount of filth could affect your radiance your Highness." Deceit purred.

Roman puffed his hair, "Oh I know, but I hate getting dirty." 

Remus huffed a bit, it seemed like his brother was still himself in some ways. But he wouldn't give up hope that quickly. "ROMAN RO RO RO, since you're a darkside now, we have to play together in the imagination together again, ohhh we could give Thomas the NASTIEST thoughts, you haven't seen Mr. Poo yet! Oh you'll love him, he just has the cutest little fangs-"

Roman frowned, "I don't think I like that."

Remus blinked, " Mr. Poo? "

Roman shook his head, "No no, that's..." He rolled his eyes, "Fine I guess. That name you called me. "

"Roman? But that's your name."

Roman shook his head, "But I don't feel like Roman. Until I find a name that feels more suitable, you may call my by my role." He straightened himself up, a glittering smile on his face, " Pride. "

Deceit held Pride's hand in his own and kissed him gently, "Charmed."

Pride looked back at him, flashing that dazzling smile, "The feeling's mutual."

Remus looked from one side to the other, "Are you two going to fuck or can I take him to the Imagination."

Deceit’s face burned a bright red but Pride seemed relatively unbothered, “Feel free to lead the way.” 

Remus’s face broke into his usual wide smile and he grabbed Pride’s hand sinking them into his room. The lights in the room flashed, quickly switching colors randomly. There was something leaking against the wall, it was either slime or blood it was nearly impossible to tell with the constant NOISE of the place. From the loud screams at random intervals, to the shepherds tones that rose endlessly in the background. Pride walked around carefully but still managed to step on one of Remus’s 5 living hands that slept on the floor. He shrieked as it bit his shoes with unnaturally sharp teeth. Remus flicked it off of him and it quickly flew off. 

“Ah, finally!” He said, as he found a small doorknob on the ground. He opened it up and the room was filled with the pale yellow light of the imagination. He grabbed Roman by the shoulders, “Okay, as soon as you get there, don’t panic. Just summon wings or some other method to fly.” His grin widened, eyes sparkling, “Think you can handle it?”

Pride looked confused at first than puffed out his chest when Remus asked his question, “Of course I can.” 

Remus gave a delighted squeal, grabbed his hand and the pair of them jumped into the hole. The sky was a dark and stormy grey, it looked like there was going to be another knife storm. Remus closed his eyes and felt dark, leathery wings errupt from his back. He frowned, debating on the color, did he want to keep them black or change to green, or maybe he could have it flash the worst version of every color! Shit-stain brown, puke green, mustard yellow oh what delight! 

At first he assumed the screaming came from one of his screaming trees, they played the most haunting melodies when it rained, but when he looked down he instead saw a flash of red light hurling towards the ground. He gasped and divebombed to catch him, his repeated thought of, "Don 't imagine long, dark piercing spikes under us ready to break into our stomachs, impaling us both," of course summoned long , dark piercing spikes below them. 

Pride's screams only grew louder as he flaid about trying to grab onto something, anything that would stop him from hitting the harsh unforgiving ground. He could almost feel the rocks touching his stomach and pushong through-

Lucky for him though, Remus swooped down, catching him before he hit the rocks. He sat him down on the sandy ground, his eyes watered, though whether that was due go concern or the speed he'd been flying at was anyone's guess.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his voice was more gentle than he'd usually seem capable of. 

Pride sneered, "I'm fine, thanks for the rocks, bet it made you feel even more like a hero when you saved me huh? " 

Remus stepped back, genuinely confused, "That made as much sense as Woody fucking Palpatine."

Pride harrumphed, and took a step foreward, "You know exactly what I mean, you've always wanted to outshine me and now you've given yourself the chance to play the hero in here and pretend to save me. But guess what," he pressed a finger against Remus's chest. "I don't need anyone to help me or save me much less a disgusting little turd like you. I'm not pathetic little Roman anymore, I am strength, I am perfection, I am Prince Pride! "

Remus stared at him for a bit.

"The dust on your butt is shaped like a dick."

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

Pride and Remus weren't talking anymore. Remus chewed on a can whistfully sitting in his room, "Just like old times. " Except during, 'old times ' Deceit wasn 't spending so much time simping to his brother. It was enough to make him puke hearing him compliment him, watching them ballroom dance in the kitch together the snake-side's head gently fit onto Pride's chest. Despite his distaste at their sentimentallity, he couldn't help but feel a little happy for them. 

Until he wasn't that is. It was breakfast time.

"It was merely a suggestion -"Deceit backed away, but Pride pursued

"You think I'm WRONG? ! "Fire raged in the side's eye, "You think we'd be better off if Thomas ruins his LIFE-"

"It's one friendship Pride, and it's been far from healthy for Thomas to be involved in it."

The sound of a hand against skin echoed through the kitchen. There was a silence that lasted decades. Then the sound of a chair scrapping across the floor. Remus stood up and walked up to Pride who was looking down smugly at Deceit. Remus turned him around and grabbed him by the collar, "You can insult me, you can mock me, do whatever you want. But you will not. Touch. Him."

Pride huffed, "He shouldn't have argued with me! He's really the one who -" 

Remus summoned a dirty sock and shoved it into his mouth, than threw him to the side. He walked up to Deceit, "Do I have permission? " 

Deceit looked up with blurry, tear stained eyes and gave a nod. And just like that he was in the Light Side KItchen.

"ALRIGHT, HOW MANY BITCHES DO I HAVE TO KILL TO FIND OUT WHICH OF YOU BWSTARDS FUCKED UP MY BROTHER?!" Remus was as always a master of subtlty and persuation. Patton jumped about 10 feet just hearing his voice. Virgil bristled and hissed at him

Logan sighed, he supposed his pancakes would have to wait,"Good morning Remus."

Remus shook his head, "No pleasantries, Romwn fell and now he's a real pain in the ass, like a full sized plane up my ass, and I KNOW sides don't just go dark and change personalities for no reason so-" he poin ted at Patton, "What did you do to him?! "

Patton shook his head, "I-I didn 't- well okay I made him sink to the dark sides but-"

Logan adjusted his glasses, "He was starting to show unpleasant tendencies far before that. Patton decided that he'd be safer away from us after a disscussion in which he said," he took out a notecard, "You never let me live, you're all terrible critical beasts who I should have slain with my sword ages ago! If it weren't for you, Thomas would be perfect, I would be perfect, I'm sicm of being around you." he returned his notecard to his pocket.

Remus stared, "So it has nothing to do with you, than why? "

Virgil poured a glass of coffee black as his soul, "I don't know, none of us knows. Can't believe I'm saying this but I kind of miss the ego-driven Prince. "

Logan looked over his notes, "I have some theories but emotional reactions aren't really my area of expertise."

Remus rubbed his mustache as he thought it over, than his eyes turned bright and manic, "Do any of you have a battering ram?"

They all stare at him blankly, Patton's the first one to say anything, "Why?"

"To break into old Princy's room of course!"

[saifa-ao3]

Writing prompt: Undyne & Alphys are preparing for a date, but not really knowing how this works Undyne asks Papyrus for advice, while Alphys gets her advice from Mettaton. The end result is about what you'd expect.

Late again, but I did it!

Ao3 version here!Rating: General AudiencesTitle: You gotta dress to impress!Summary: For their upcoming date, Alphys and Undyne seek out advice from their best friends. Unfortunately, Papyrus and Mettaton aren't the best advice givers.Relationships: Alphys/Undyne

Tumblr version under the cut.

            Undyne shifted in her seat on Papyrus’ bed, causing the springs in the mattress to creak. Tilting her head curiously, she watched him scan his bookshelf for the fabled dating manual he insisted on lending her. “Papyrus, I don’t think that’s necessary,” Undyne said. She gave him a quizzical look while rubbing the back of her neck. 

            “Nonsense, Undyne!” Papyrus declared, snatching the book from its spot. “You have come to me for help, and it would be absolutely negligent of me to not bestow this upon my best friend! Besides, this dating book was imperative in helping me figure out my lack of romantic feelings on my most recent date. I’m sure it could help you too.” Papyrus thrusted the book out to her while posturing heroically, his grin wide and beaming with excitement.

            “I mean, if you really think so,” Undyne laughed with a crooked grin, unwilling to turn him down. Papyrus was a complete dork, but he was her favorite dork and number one bestie. He was the one person she could confide in about this predicament she had. Hell, why not give this a shot? She had been driving herself nuts over what to do for her date with Alphys, and she did come to him for a creative perspective after all.

            “Wonderful!” Papyrus cheered.

            Undyne flipped through the book and squinted as she skimmed the chapters. “Papyrus, I already confessed my feelings to her. Where does the dating section start?”

            “Seeing as I have memorized the entirety of this manual, I can tell you with confidence that chapter three is the first date, chapter four is the second date, chapter five is the third, and chapter six is—”

            “Okay, okay, I get it!” Undyne grimaced, looking a little overwhelmed. The thought of a potential second date hadn’t even crossed her mind yet since preparing for the first was so daunting. She had never gone on one before, and the only person she knew that had was Papyrus. For better or worse, he was her only hope in getting through this.

            “I assure you it is very thorough!”

            “I don’t doubt you.”

            “But if it helps you with your current goal, it is there to provide the support you need, although not as great as my support since I am the greatest at encouraging my friends! Just let me know how I can be of assistance, and I will not fail you. And remember, I believe in you!”

            “Yeah, you’re right! I can’t go wrong with you having my back!” She turned her attention back to the book and concentrated. “Let’s see… Since this is going to be our first proper date, I’ll go with chapter three.” After a few minutes of reading, her brow furrowed. Special occasion dates? The merits of lunch versus dinner outings? Not to mention the proper attire for each scenario! There was simply too much to consider, it was dizzying!

            “What’s wrong? You look a little frustrated.”

            “How many pages is this chapter?” she exclaimed impatiently.

            “Precisely forty—”

            “Papyrus! My date is in a couple hours! I don’t have time to sit here and read.”

            “How about I summarize it for you then?”

            “Please,” Undyne said, setting aside the book and rubbing her temples.

            “Very well then! First, have you decided on a romantic destination for this date?” he asked, leaning towards her and wiggling his brow.

            Looking flustered, Undyne leaned away from him and directed her sight to the Jolly Roger flag hanging behind him, “U-uh, I just figured we’d go to the dump or something. Maybe hang out in her lab? Really, whatever she wants to do.”

            “Hmmm…” Papyrus tapped his chin and squinted as he looked her over before accepting her answer. “That’s why there can always be a second date! To go on even more daring adventures with that love of yours!”

            “R-right!”

            “Now, let’s skip ahead to your date clothes.”

            Undyne grimaced and rubbed the back of her neck. “Yeah, uh, about that. My house burned down, remember? I’m a little short on dating attire.”

            “And this is where my greatness and heroism come in! For you see! I have just the thing for you!” Defying physics and the carpet’s coefficients of friction, Papyrus slid backwards to his closet. It was a peculiar sight considering he wasn’t moving his legs and it looked like he was skating backwards. By now Undyne had grown used to such oddities that it had become a normal thing where she no longer questioned it. “Behold! Behind closet number—! Well, my only closet!” Papyrus opened the door dramatically and bowed.

            Undyne knew Papyrus had an unusual fashion sense at times, but nothing prepared her for what hung in his closet. Nothing matched, though she couldn’t pinpoint what style of fashion her best friend was going for to begin with. Her crooked smile remained frozen as she took in the amazing disaster of Papyrus’ dating outfit. She wasn’t sure whether she was struck with admiration by Papyrus’ sheer confidence, or horror at the suggestion that this was the outfit he would lend her.

            But she came to Papyrus for his creativity, and she had to trust that. “Well, here goes nothing,” she said. “Bring it on!”

            “O-oh my god, w-what am I g-going to do?” Alphys spoke quickly, voice rising in panic as she paced her lab. When her hands weren’t fidgeting together nervously, she would adjust her glasses in an effort to keep herself busy. Sometimes it helped her think, or at least that’s what she told herself, but her anxiety riddled thoughts rendered that action useless. “W-what do I-I even wear? D-Do I have anything to wear? If I can’t find the perfect thing, what’s she going to think? Oh god, she’s going to realize how uncool and insecure I am.”

            “Darling, you have got to calm down,” Mettaton said, wheeling around to her in his box form. He held her gently by the shoulders and sighed. “Take a deep breath in, and out. Now, you are going to be just fine. Undyne likes you just the way you are. After all, there is so much to adore about you.”

            “Y-you really think so?”

            “Oh, darling, I know so.”

            Alphys still had doubts, but Mettaton always found a way to comfort her. If anyone could help boost her confidence in this dire time, it was him. She took in a shuddering breath to calm herself and folded her hands. “D-do you think you c-can help me? I-I’ve never gone on an actual date myself. I-I mean, I’ve written fanfiction before, and I-I’ve watched enough c-content about it from anime. B-but this is U-Undyne we’re talking about! I g-gotta impress her!”

            “Leave it to me, darling. I am going to put you through the most glamorous and exclusive MTT-brand makeover.”

            “O-oh, gosh…” Alphys shifted uncertainly in place. She never felt confident in her own skin, so she had doubts a makeover would be the remedy to boost her confidence. But Mettaton was always so confident and sure of himself, especially when he switched to his preferred body. Perhaps there was some magic to all that glitter and perfection after all. Oh, how did it go in Mew Mew Kissy Cutie again? The heroine would magically transform, surrounded by pastel lights and glitter, into a glamourous and stellar form for battle. Even the shyest of her friends gained the confidence they needed when they transformed too. If Alphys’ heroes could do it, then certainly she could too!

            “You are going to look absolutely fabulous, Alphys dear!” Mettaton announced. He flipped the switch in his back, causing his box form to open up and separate into pieces. Pink fog billowed out from inside the shifting box as his form tessellated into the humanoid shape he preferred. Through the pastel clouds, a rave of colorful lights illuminated Mettaton’s silhouette to accompany the blaring music that was his signature soundtrack. Glitter exploded and showered the lab and equipment, no doubt working into the delicate circuitry of priceless computers. 

            Deep down Alphys knew it would take months to clean every miniscule speck of it, but she couldn’t bring herself to be mad by the show. It was pretty glamorous and the lab was in desperate need of a deep clean anyways. All she could do was stare in awe at the show. No matter how many times she had seen him transform, she could never tear her eyes away. Of course, she took pride in her inventions, but seeing something she designed represent a real life anime scene was a dream come true.

            “O-oh, wow…!” Alphys gasped.

            “Ohhh, yesssss!” Mettaton said in a sultry voice. “Let there be drama! Let there be suspense! Bring out that fire in you, darling, because you are a star!”

            Surrounded by the lights and sounds, Alphys knew the kind of show she had to put on.

            Both of them were in stunned silence as they stared at each other. The constant dripping of water from stalactites in the garbage dump’s damp cavern marked the seconds until suddenly their laughter flooded the space and bounced off the walls. Undyne bent over while clutching her stomach and pointed at Alphys. Her poor girlfriend had makeup caked on her face with pink lipstick layered heavily on her lips and glitter covering her scales and clothes. Not to mention the fake eyelashes Alphys wore were thick with little hearts on the ends. “Oh my god, what happened to you?”

            Alphys snorted uncontrollably and covered her mouth. “O-oh gosh, I-I could say the same to you. A-are th-those basketballs on your shoulders?!”

            “They are!” Undyne cackled. “Alphys, come here. You didn’t have to put on all this makeup for me.”

            “I-it was Mettaton’s idea. I was a-afraid you w-wouldn’t like me after all.” Alphys said sheepishly. She stared at Undyne’s shirt and smirked. “Cool dude, huh?”

            “Yeah, it was Papyrus’ idea. He’s the cool one, honestly.”

            “I-I guess our friends give r-really bad advice.”

            “No kidding,” Undyne grinned. “Now, hang on. Let me help ya out with that.” She picked Alphys up and dunked her in the water, scrubbing away the makeup and glitter.

            When Alphys came up to gasp for air, she looked briefly at her reflection before turning to Undyne. “You really like me just the way I am?”

            “Of course!” Undyne beamed at her.

            “O-oh, wow…”

            Suddenly, a thunderous boom resounded through the cavern, causing Alphys to jump into Undyne’s arms. They held each other tightly as flaming confetti rained down across the dump. Together, they craned their heads up with eyes wide to watch the magnificent disaster that was Alphys’ planned welcome show to kick off their date. 

            “Eeep! S-something must have short circuited and triggered the confetti cannons!” Alphys squeaked.

            “The what?!” Undyne exclaimed.

            Another confetti cannon erupted, this time scattering both flaming debris and glitter. Lights flickered and strobed, making the crystals in the cavern throw a kaleidoscope of blues and greens. From the ceiling a disco ball descended and reflected light to paint the walls with diamond shapes.

            “Here comes the music,” Alphys said ominously.

            Somewhere a boombox played music that soon sped up in increments and increased to a deafening volume. Eventually, the beat skipped and stuttered on the same line until the static grew louder in volume. In turn, the lightbulbs in their fixtures hummed brightly until they were on the edge of burning out.

            Then the cavern plunged into darkness, or so it looked. The brightness of the bursting lights contrasted so harshly to the usual dimness of the garbage dump that they might as well have been blind. After a brief pause of silence, Alphys laughed nervously as she held onto Undyne, her arms wrapped around her girlfriend’s neck.

            “That was—” Undyne began.

            Several flaming towers erupted to surround them while several signs in the shape of letters lowered from the ceiling. One of the canons below belched up a massive fireball to set the letters alight, revealing Undyne’s name. Unfortunately, the ropes holding up the letters caught fire as well, and the letters came crashing down in front of them.

            Alphys, mortified with what her show had devolved into, squeaked and stuttered. She buried her face in her hands and mumbled out apologies. “I-I’m so sorry! I t-tried to make this memorable, and I-I thought a show would make this memorable. It’s like in the animes I watch, the p-protagonist tries to i-impress the one they like. Like in this one episode of ‘Doki Doki I Love You’ the p-protagonist takes this girl he likes to a fireworks show, but w-we don’t have any fireworks down here, at least not on h-hand. A-and I didn’t have a whole lot of time, but I still managed to scrounge this up. A-and, oh g-gosh, this was a complete disaster!”

            “ARE YOU KIDDING ME? THIS WAS AWESOME!” Undyne shouted.

            Alphys turned to Undyne and blushed. “R-really?”

            “HELL YEAH!”

            Alphys broke out into a shy smile and giggled.

            “You’re telling me you did this on short notice? You’re amazing! This has been the best date ever!” 

            Alphys’ scales flushed a deep red and she moaned in disorientation and disbelief. “I-I’m amazing?”

            Undyne, flashing a grin, planted a kiss on Alphys cheek. She cackled when Alphys grew limp in her arms and passed out with a smile.

[kkintle]

Map: Collected and Last Poems by Wisława Szymborska; Quotes

Dreams flickered on white canvas.

The future—who can guess it. The past—who’s got it right.

Trite Rhymes     A great joy: flower upon flower, the branches stretch in pristine blue, but there’s a greater: today’s Tuesday, tomorrow will bring mail from you, and still greater: the letter trembles, strange reading it in spots of sun, and still greater: just a week now, now just four days, now it’s begun, and still greater: I kneel on top and make the suitcase lid shut tight, and still greater: the train at seven, just one ticket, thanks, that’s right, and still greater: rushing windows, with view on view on view on view, and still greater: dark and darker, by nighttime I will be with you, and still greater: the door opens, and still greater: past the door, and still greater: flower on flower. —Ohhh, who are all these roses for?

Do you open each human fate like a book, seeking feelings not in fonts or formats? Are you sure you decipher people completely?

Are people really so simple as far as people go?

Lovers     In this quiet we can still hear what they were singing yesterday about the high road and the low road . . . We hear—but we don’t believe it.   Our smile doesn’t mask our sorrow, and goodness needs no sacrifice. The pity we give to nonlovers is even more than they deserve.   We’re so astonished at ourselves, what’s left to astonish us? Not a rainbow in the night. Not a butterfly in snow.   And when we sleep we dream of parting. But it’s a good dream, it’s a good dream, since we wake up from it.

Nothing can ever happen twice. In consequence, the sorry fact is that we arrive here improvised and leave without the chance to practice.

One day, perhaps, some idle tongue mentions your name by accident: I feel as if a rose were flung into the room, all hue and scent.

Why do we treat the fleeting day with so much needless fear and sorrow? It’s in its nature not to stay: today is always gone tomorrow.   With smiles and kisses, we prefer to seek accord beneath our star, although we’re different (we concur) just as two drops of water are.

If we haven’t had enough of despair, grief, all that stuff, lofty words will kill us off.   Then we’ll stand up, take our bows: hope that you’ve enjoyed our show. Every patron with his spouse will applaud, get up, and go.   They’ll reenter their lives’ cages, where love’s tiger sometimes rages, but the beast’s too tame to bite.

I TEACH silence in all languages

FOR PROMISES made by my spouse, who’s tricked so many with his sweet colors and fragrances and sounds— dogs barking, guitars in the street— into believing that they still might conquer loneliness and fright, I cannot be responsible. Mr. Day’s widow, Mrs. Night.

We know ourselves only as far as we’ve been tested. I tell you this from my unknown heart

An Effort     Alack and woe, oh song: you’re mocking me; try as I may, I’ll never be your red, red rose. A rose is a rose is a rose. And you know it.   I worked to sprout leaves. I tried to take root. I held my breath to speed things up, and waited for the petals to enclose me.   Merciless song, you leave me with my lone, nonconvertible, unmetamorphic body: I’m one-time-only to the marrow of my bones.

Leave me, leave, but not by land. Swim off, swim, but not by sea. Fly off, fly away, my dear, but don’t go near the air.   Let’s see each other through closed eyes. Let’s talk together through closed mouths. Let’s hold each other through a thick wall.

Since eternity was out of stock, ten thousand aging things have been amassed instead.

Everything’s mine but just on loan, nothing for the memory to hold, though mine as long as I look.

One day the answer came before the question. Another night they guessed their eyes’ expression by the type of silence in the dark.   Gender fades, mysteries molder, distinctions meet in all-resemblance just as all colors coincide in white.

Sunny. Green. A forest close at hand, with wood to chew on, drops beneath the bark to drink— a view served round the clock, until you go blind.

Parable     Some fishermen pulled a bottle from the deep. It held a piece of paper, with these words: “Somebody save me! I’m here. The ocean cast me on this desert island. I am standing on the shore waiting for help. Hurry! I’m here!” “There’s no date. I bet it’s already too late anyway. It could have been floating for years,” the first fisherman said. “And he doesn’t say where. It’s not even clear which ocean,” the second fisherman said. “It’s not too late, or too far. The island Here is everywhere,” the third fisherman said. They all felt awkward. No one spoke. That’s how it goes with universal truths

Ballad     Hear the ballad “Murdered Woman Suddenly Gets Up from Chair.”   It’s an honest ballad, penned neither to shock nor to offend.   The thing happened fair and square, with curtains open, lamps all lit:   passersby could stop and stare.   When the door had shut behind him and the killer ran downstairs, she stood up, just like the living startled by the sudden silence.   She gets up, she moves her head, and she looks around with eyes harder than they were before.   No, she doesn’t float through air: she steps on the ordinary, wooden, slightly creaky floor.   In the oven she burns traces that the killer’s left behind: here a picture, there shoelaces, everything that she can find.   It’s obvious that she’s not strangled. It’s obvious that she’s not shot. She’s been killed invisibly.   She may still show signs of life, cry for sundry silly reasons, shriek in horror at the sight of a mouse.                      Ridiculous traits are so predictable that they aren’t hard to fake.   She got up like you and me.   She walks just as people do.   And she sings and combs her hair, which still grows.

I let myself be invented, modeled on my own reflection in his eyes. I dance, dance, dance in the stir of sudden wings.

Exiled by style. Only their ribs stood out. With birdlike feet and palms, they strove to take wing on their jutting shoulder blades.   The thirteenth century would have given them golden halos. The twentieth, silver screens. The seventeenth, alas, holds nothing for the unvoluptuous.   For even the sky bulges here with pudgy angels and a chubby god— thick-whiskered Phoebus, on a sweaty steed, riding straight into the seething bedchamber

He grew rozes with a “z.

(...) the rest of your life? Old age is a precipice, (...)

I am too close for him to dream of me.

Silence—this word also rustles across the page and parts the boughs that have sprouted from the word “woods.”

Funny little thing How could she know that even despair can work for you if you’re lucky enough to outlive it.

The Railroad Station     My nonarrival in the city of N. took place on the dot.   You’d been alerted in my unmailed letter.   You were able not to be there at the agreed-upon time.   The train pulled up at Platform 3. A lot of people got out.   My absence joined the throng as it made its way toward the exit.   Several women rushed to take my place in all that rush.   Somebody ran up to one of them. I didn’t know him, but she recognized him immediately.   While they kissed with not our lips, a suitcase disappeared, not mine.   The railroad station in the city of N. passed its exam in objective existence with flying colors.   The whole remained in place. Particulars scurried along the designated tracks.   Even a rendezvous took place as planned.   Beyond the reach of our presence.   In the paradise lost of probability.   Somewhere else. Somewhere else. How these little words ring. Alive     These days we just hold him

But this is ancient history. I can’t dwell on it forever or keep asking endlessly, what’s next, what’s next.   Day to day I trust in permanence, in history’s prospects. I can’t gnaw apples in a constant state of terror.

Arduous ease, watchful agility, and calculated inspiration.

Old Folks’ Home     Here comes Her Highness—well, you know who I mean, our Helen the snooty—now who made her queen! With her lipstick and wig on, as if we could care, like her three sons in heaven can see her from there!   “I wouldn’t be here if they’d lived through the war. I’d spend winter with one son, summer with another.” What makes her so sure? I’d be dead too now, with her for a mother.   And she keeps on asking (“I don’t mean to pry”) why from your sons and daughters there’s never a word even though they weren’t killed. “If my boys were alive, I’d spend all my holidays home with the third.”   Right, and in his gold carriage he’d come and get her, drawn by a swan or a lily-white dove, to show all of us that he’ll never forget her and how much he owes to her motherly love.   Even Jane herself, the nurse, can’t help but grin when our Helen starts singing this old song again— even though Jane’s job is commiseration Monday through Friday, with two weeks’ vacation.

Sell me your soul. There are no other takers.   There is no other devil anymore.

I’m bound to pass by all these poppies and pansies. What a loss when you think how much effort was spent perfecting this petal, this pistil, this scent for the one-time appearance, which is all they’re allowed, so aloofly precise and so fragilely proud.

The abyss doesn’t divide us. The abyss surrounds us.

In Praise of Dreams     In my dreams I paint like Vermeer van Delft.   I speak fluent Greek and not just with the living.   I drive a car that does what I want it to.   I am gifted and write mighty epics.   I hear voices as clearly as any venerable saint.   My brilliance as a pianist would stun you.   I fly the way we ought to, i.e., on my own.   Falling from the roof, I tumble gently to the grass.   I’ve got no problem breathing under water.   I can’t complain: I’ve been able to locate Atlantis.   It’s gratifying that I can always wake up before dying.   As soon as war breaks out, I roll over on my other side.   I’m a child of my age, but I don’t have to be.   A few years ago I saw two suns.   And the night before last a penguin, clear as day.

True love. Is it normal, is it serious, is it practical? What does the world get from two people who exist in a world of their own?

Let the people who never find true love keep saying that there’s no such thing.   Their faith will make it easier for them to live and die.

And it so happened that I’m here with you. And I really see nothing usual in that. 

Under One Small Star     My apologies to chance for calling it necessity. My apologies to necessity if I’m mistaken, after all. Please, don’t be angry, happiness, that I take you as my due. May my dead be patient with the way my memories fade. My apologies to time for all the world I overlook each second. My apologies to past loves for thinking that the latest is the first. Forgive me, distant wars, for bringing flowers home. Forgive me, open wounds, for pricking my finger. I apologize for my record of minuets to those who cry from the depths. I apologize to those who wait in railway stations for being asleep today at five A.M. Pardon me, hounded hope, for laughing from time to time. Pardon me, deserts, that I don’t rush to you bearing a spoonful of water. And you, falcon, unchanging year after year, always in the same cage, your gaze always fixed on the same point in space, forgive me, even if it turns out you were stuffed. My apologies to the felled tree for the table’s four legs. My apologies to great questions for small answers. Truth, please don’t pay me much attention. Dignity, please be magnanimous. Bear with me, O mystery of existence, as I pluck the occasional thread from your train.   Soul, don’t take offense that I’ve only got you now and then. My apologies to everything that I can’t be everywhere at once. My apologies to everyone that I can’t be each woman and each man. I know I won’t be justified as long as I live, since I myself stand in my own way. Don’t bear me ill will, speech, that I borrow weighty words, then labor heavily so that they may seem light.

Non omnis moriar—a premature worry.

Thank-You Note     I owe so much to those I don’t love.   The relief as I agree that someone else needs them more.   The happiness that I’m not the wolf to their sheep.   The peace I feel with them, the freedom— love can neither give nor take that.   I don’t wait for them, as in window-to-door-and-back. Almost as patient as a sundial, I understand what love can’t, and forgive as love never would.   From a rendezvous to a letter is just a few days or weeks, not an eternity.   Trips with them always go smoothly, concerts are heard, cathedrals visited, scenery is seen.   And when seven hills and rivers come between us, the hills and rivers can be found on any map.   They deserve the credit if I live in three dimensions, in nonlyrical and nonrhetorical space with a genuine, shifting horizon.   They themselves don’t realize how much they hold in their empty hands.   “I don’t owe them a thing” would be love’s answer to this open question.

Dentistry turned to diplomatic skill promises us a Golden Age tomorrow. The going’s rough, and so we need the laugh of bright incisors, molars of goodwill. Our times are still not safe and sane enough for faces to show ordinary sorrow.

Our solitary existence exacerbates our sense of obligation, and raises the inevitable question, How are we to live et cetera? since “we can’t avoid the void.

No way out? But what about the door? No prospects? The window had other views.

You think at least the note must tell us something. But what if I say there was no note— and he had so many friends, but all of us fit neatly inside the empty envelope propped up against a cup.

(...) to linger longer, not to go home again. Since only prisoners want to go home.

In Praise of Feeling Bad about Yourself     The buzzard never says it is to blame. The panther wouldn’t know what scruples mean. When the piranha strikes, it feels no shame. If snakes had hands, they’d claim their hands were clean.   A jackal doesn’t understand remorse. Lions and lice don’t waver in their course. Why should they, when they know they’re right?   Though hearts of killer whales may weigh a ton, in every other way they’re light.   On this third planet of the sun among the signs of bestiality a clear conscience is number one.

I know nothing of the role I play. I only know it’s mine, I can’t exchange it.   I have to guess on the spot just what this play’s all about

The star is large and distant, so distant that it’s small, even smaller than others much smaller than it.

Small wonder, then, if we were struck with wonder; as we would be if only we had the time.

God was finally going to believe in a man both good and strong, but good and strong are still two different men.

“How should we live?” someone asked me in a letter. I had meant to ask him the same question.   Again, and as ever, as may be seen above, the most pressing questions are naïve ones.

Whatever you say reverberates, whatever you don’t say speaks for itself. So either way you’re talking politics.

Who knows you matters more than whom you know. Trips only if taken abroad. Memberships in what but without why. Honors, but not how they were earned. (...) Price, not worth, and title, not what’s inside. His shoe size, not where he’s off to, that one you pass off as yourself.

Nothing’s sacred for those who think. Calling things brazenly by name, risqué analyses, salacious syntheses, frenzied, rakish chases after the bare facts, the filthy fingering of touchy subjects, discussion in heat—it’s music to their ears.

During these trysts of theirs, the only thing that’s steamy is the tea.

May delivery be easy, may our child grow and be well. Let him be happy from time to time and leap over abysses. Let his heart have strength to endure and his mind be awake and reach far.   But not so far that it sees into the future. Spare him that one gift, O heavenly powers.

For the sake of the children that we still are, fairy tales have happy endings. That’s the only finale that will do here, too. The rain will stop, the waves will subside, the clouds will part in the cleared-up sky, and they’ll be once more what clouds overhead ought to be: lofty and rather lighthearted in their likeness to things drying in the sun— isles of bliss, lambs, cauliflowers, diapers.

I prefer, where love’s concerned, nonspecific anniversaries that can be celebrated every day.

A miracle, just take a look around: the inescapable earth.   An extra miracle, extra and ordinary: the unthinkable can be thought.

When I see such things, I’m no longer sure that what’s important is more important than what’s not.

Hatred is a master of contrast— between explosions and dead quiet, red blood and white snow.

Perhaps all fields are battlefields, those we remember and those that are forgotten: (...)

Without us dreams couldn’t exist. The one on whom the real world depends is still unknown, and the products of his insomnia are available to anyone who wakes up.

Every beginning is only a sequel, after all, and the book of events is always open halfway through.

We agreed to death, but not to every kind. Love attracted us, of course, but only love that keeps its word.

We were besieged by doubts. Does knowing everything beforehand really mean knowing everything.   Is a decision made in advance really any kind of choice.

We’re extremely fortunate not to know precisely the kind of world we live in.

I am who I am. A coincidence no less unthinkable than any other.

They aren’t obliged to vanish when we’re gone. They don’t have to be seen while sailing on.

The Three Oddest Words     When I pronounce the word Future, the first syllable already belongs to the past.   When I pronounce the word Silence, I destroy it.   When I pronounce the word Nothing, I make something no nonbeing can hold.

But how to answer unasked questions, while being furthermore a being so totally a nobody to you.

Talking with you is essential and impossible. Urgent in this hurried life and postponed to never.

Understanding came only later: not all misadventures fit within the world’s laws and even if they wanted to, they couldn’t happen.

And what can you say about one day of life, a minute, a second: darkness, a lightbulb’s flash, then dark again?   KOSMOS MAKROS CHRONOS PARADOKSOS Only stony Greek has words for that.

There must be an exit somewhere, that’s more than certain. But you don’t look for it, it looks for you, it’s been stalking you from the start, and this labyrinth is none other than than your, for the duration, your, until not your, flight, flight— (...)

Life on Earth is quite a bargain. Dreams, for one, don’t charge admission. Illusions are costly only when lost. The body has its own installment plan.   And as an extra, added feature, you spin on the planets’ carousel for free, and with it you hitch a ride on the intergalactic blizzard, with times so dizzying that nothing here on Earth can even tremble.

At times I get fed up with her. I suggest a separation. From now to eternity. Then she smiles at me with pity, since she knows it would be the end of me too. 

Assassins     They think for days on end, how to kill so as to kill, and how many killed will be many. Apart from this they eat their meals with gusto, pray, wash their feet, feed the birds, make phone calls while scratching their armpits, stanch blood when they cut a finger, if they’re women they buy sanitary napkins, eye shadow, flowers for vases, they make jokes on their good days, drink citrus juice from the fridge, watch the moon and stars at night, place headphones with soft music on their ears and sleep sweetly till the crack of dawn —unless what they’re thinking needs doing at night.

It’s good you came. Sit here beside me. He really was supposed to get back Thursday. But we’ve got so many Thursdays left this year.

Page after page at a snail’s pace. But we’re still going in fifth gear and, knock on wood, never better.

We eat another life so as to live. A corpse of pork with departed cabbage. Every menu is an obituary.   Even the kindest of souls must consume, digest something killed so that their warm hearts won’t stop beating.

In the end I stopped knowing what I’d been looking for so long.   I woke up. Looked at my watch. The dream took not quite two and a half minutes.   Such are the tricks to which time resorts ever since it started stumbling on sleeping heads.

[imagine-loki]

Broken Trigger Warning - Depression

TITLE: Broken

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: One-shot

AUTHOR: breemaggs

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki helping you through a new medication regimen. At first you don’t even tell Loki that you’re taking medication, you’re embarrassed and afraid that he’ll think you’re weak. Soon you can’t hide the exhaustion, the mood swings and the insomnia that occurs while you and your doctor attempt to find the perfect dosage. (Click to read the full imagine!)

RATING: M

NOTES/WARNINGS: Trigger Warning for discussion of depression. Rated M for language.

I was a zombie. No, I was past the zombie phase. I was just straight up exhausted. And I was starting to get frustrated. And distraught. This was supposed to be helping me. Instead it was making me worse.

And logically, I knew that new medication tended to make you dip before it picked you back up, but it had already been several weeks and two dose increases and things still weren’t better. I wanted to throw in the towel. It wasn’t working. I wasn’t sure it would ever work.

Patience, my psychiatrist said. And I knew she was right. Depression didn’t work on a time table and medication wasn’t magic. It took time to get the medication and dosage right. And giving up after two increases wasn’t going to get me anywhere. If the next one didn’t help... We’ll, then she agreed that we would need to try something different. But we weren’t there yet.

I knew recovery was a long road; I’d been walking it for years. I’d been through med changes. I’d been through the ups and downs. And the truth was... I was just tired. I was tired of trying. Tired of failing. Tired of fighting. Tired of pretending. Tired of everything. This exhaustion was deeper than just the physical symptoms.

And then there was all the effort that I put into my great act. My mask. That was another level of exhaustion. Pretending everything was okay when it wasn’t... That was hard. And I had been doing it for so long. I didn’t want to be strong anymore. I wasn’t sure I was even capable of being strong anymore.

I swiped at my leaking eyes and readjusted myself on the floor for the third time since I’d sat down. I tried to focus on the fireplace in front of me. The flames used to relax me. Now I just wished they would consume me. I sighed and cast a quick glance at the clock on the wall. Three-thirty in the morning. Witching hour. Just another reminder that I should be sleeping.

My boyfriend, Loki of Asgard, was having no trouble sleeping. Which was how I preferred it; that way he couldn’t see me like this. But he wasn’t stupid so I knew I that I probably didn’t have a lot of time until he figured it out. Or at least figured out that something was amiss, since he had no idea that I even had a mental illness, let alone one that was overrunning my entire life. So far I’d managed to get away with the excuse of getting up early for beating him out of bed. And makeup went a long way towards hiding the bags under my eyes. And bright smiles hid the pain behind my eyes. And after years of pretending, I was excellent at acting like everything was sunshine and daisies when it was anything but.

But, like I said, I knew it wouldn’t last forever. I wouldn’t be able to keep the act up much longer. I wouldn’t be able to hide behind my mask. Because I was slipping. I was starting to get irritated at the smallest things and it had already earned me more than a few strange looks from him.

Fuck. My eyes watered again and I dropped my head into my hands. When had it gotten so out of control? When had it started running my life? I didn’t know. I knew that I was ashamed and embarrassed.

Why can’t you just snap out of it? Other people have it so much worse than you. You’re being irrational.

I knew all of that! People had routinely thrown those phrases at me in the past. As if I wasn’t aware. As if I was willingly going through this. As if I was just trying to get attention. I choked back a sob. How could I possibly expect Loki to still love me after he found out about this? I was so broken.

I bit my lip, trying my best to keep quiet as the emotions engulfed me. I had never met anyone who actually understood what I was going through aside from my psychiatrist and counselor. But a part of me felt like they didn’t count. Because they were trained to understand and deal with these things. I’d never met another person outside of my treatment that understood. Even my own mother, the only family I had left, had walked away from me after my diagnosis.

Selfish, she had called me.

While I knew that that wasn’t true, the word still stung. And it still hurt that she didn’t even try to understand what I was going through. It had set the precedent for everyone else I had ever told. Relationships? Forget those. They always left after I opened up to them. So I stopped telling them.

And I had held true to that, refusing to give a voice to my pain in Loki’s presence. But it was all about to come crashing down.

I took a shuddering breath and tried to calm down. Freaking out was not going to help and it would probably just spin me into a panic attack. So I did my breathing exercises and closed my eyes. I hugged my knees to my chest and laid my head down on the surface the position created.

Maybe... maybe I could catch a few minutes of sleep... I just had to calm down. I had to relax. I had to breath. I had to remember that, no matter how bleak things seemed, the sun would rise in the morning. Maybe things would look better in the morning light. I gave a soft, cynical laugh. Things tended to look worse when the sun was shining, in my opinion. It was as if the sun was mocking me and my darkness with it’s bright light.

I started humming softly to myself as I rocked back and forth. I concentrated on my made up song and just let go. I just... let... go...

xoxo xoxo

I woke up violently. I came up swinging, my heart racing, confusion consuming me. I didn’t know where I was. I didn’t know what was going on.

“Shhh,” a voiced murmured. “It’s okay. Did you sleep here all night?”

Fuck. Understanding hit me like a truck. I must have passed out in front of the fireplace last night after my mini melt down. And I hadn’t gotten up before Loki. And now... I was propped up on the floor with my back against the couch. He was crouched in front of me. My bottom lip quivered at the implications. I had known my time was running out, but I thought I’d have a little more time than this.

I fought for normalcy. “No...?” Shit. That was the opposite of normal. “No. I got up early and I must have drifted off...” Better, but still not terribly believable.

I watched a frown twist on his lips. “What time did you get up? It’s only twenty after five.”

Double fuck. “Um, I’m not sure. I didn’t look at the clock. I got up to pee and then I just sat down...”

Ohhh, this was going downhill so fast. His frown deepened. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I felt my eyes well up. This was it. This was the end. I wasn’t going to be able to lie myself out of this one. I wasn’t going to be able to hold it together long enough to try. I bit my lip hard, trying to bring myself back to the moment.

“I guess I was having trouble sleeping,” I finally admitted quietly, dropping my head so that my hair fell into my eyes.

He didn’t say anything for what seemed like a long time. I’m sure it was no longer than thirty seconds or so. But it felt like a lifetime.

“Again? You haven’t slept more than a few hours a night for months.”

My heart dropped to my stomach with his words. Stupid! I was so stupid. Did I really think I would be able to fool a Norse God into believing my white lies? Especially this God. I should have known better. My throat burned with the effort of keeping my tears at bay. I slowly drew in a breath.

I didn’t know what to say.

His hand came up and tilted my head so that our eyes met. I slid my eyes away from his and he made a frustrated noise.

“Look at me.” His words were gentle, but commanding.

I lifted my eyes. What he saw in them, I’ll never know, but his jaw clenched and my heart spasmed. I wanted to look away, but found myself held captive in his eyes. There were so many emotions swirling in their depths that I couldn’t pick them apart.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on with you?” he asked softly.

“I...” My voice cracked. I tried again. “Not particularly...”

He sighed. “I have been very patient with you, love. But I cannot be patient when you are so distressed. Tell me how to help.”

I sobbed, but tried to swallow it. It came out garbled and I couldn’t bear to look at him any longer.

“You can’t,” I practically wailed. “It’s... Its just who I am.”

I began crying in earnest, my emotions taking me over completely. He sank down to the floor and pulled me into his lap. He whisked one hand through my hair soothingly while the other held me tight around my waist. He rocked me back and forth, singing to me quietly in another language. I fisted my hands in the material of his sleep shirt, sucking in desperate breaths as I tried to calm down for the second time this morning.

It took me much longer to come down this time around. Probably because there was more at stake. I licked my lips and tried not the think about it, lest I work myself up again. I felt Loki press a kiss to my forehead and almost lost it again.

“Please,” he entreated. “Let me help you. Tell me what’s wrong.”

I bit my lip. Did I dare? I shook my head slightly and he tightened his arms around me. Please. I just... I didn’t even know how to tell him. I didn’t even know what to tell him. There was so much...

“I can’t help if I don’t know. I want to, no, I need to help you,” he pleaded.

The raw emotion coloring his voice ended up making the decision for me. I opened my mouth and just started talking. It was word vomit that no one except my counselor had ever heard.

I apologized for lying to him. I told him that I didn’t want to lie to him, but I wanted to keep him. I told him about how I was worried he would be disgusted with me. I told him about my nightmares. I told him about the insomnia. I explained my mood swings. I told him about the new medication. I told him about my mother. I told him about counseling. I told him about everything.

I talked until I was hoarse. And he didn’t interrupt. He just held me and listened. It was far more therapeutic than I thought possible. I took a couple of deep breaths when I was done and closed my eyes, reveling in the relief coursing through me. And I tried very hard not to think about what Loki’s reaction would be.

It was a long time before he said anything.

“I’m proud of you.” He said it simply, as if it was just another fact of life. “It takes great courage to face your inner demons.”

I swallowed thickly, trying to comprehend what he was saying. “But... I’m broken.”

“No, you’re not. You’re a work in progress,” he corrected, loosening his grip and turning me in his lap until I was facing him. “That does not mean you are broken.”

I felt the tears form again, but these weren’t tears of sadness. They were a product of relief, pure and simple. This... this wasn’t rejection. This was validation. This was acceptance. This was... new.

His hands cradled my face, his expression serious. “I don’t want you to feel as if you need to hide from me. I will help you through this. You will get through this.”

I gave him a small smile and nodded. It was amazing how empowering it was to have someone in your corner. I had never known anything like it. I knew that I didn’t want to walk this path alone anymore. And I didn’t have to. Loki had made that much clear.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“You don’t have to thank me. I will always be there for you. You are stuck with me, I’m afraid.”

I gave a little giggle and met his eyes. They were no less intense, but they were shining brightly. He smiled at me before leaning in and planting a sweet kiss on my lips. It was soft and slow. It was the reassurance that I needed.

It was perfect.

Everything was going to be okay. Loki was right; I was going to get through this. And I was going to do it with him at my side.

It was more than I could have hoped for.

[seven-oomen]

I’m sorry you’re still feeling exhausted.  I hope work wasn’t too terrible today, and that the weekend lets you rest up a bit (if you get normal weekends.  working in retail I try not to assume.)  Also, this is likely to just be a short(-ish) collection of unconnected musings, but I felt like sharing them anyway, and really you should be used to that from me at this point.  XD  So, first off that tree painting is GORGEOUS.  I mean, I tend to be kinda partial to that whole tree silhouette type aesthetic, so I’m probably slightly biased.  But still.  (And the background shading… <3 )  Also, ngl, the backlit keyboard keeps making me think of that video of Henry Cavill assembling his new computer that’s making the rounds.  That is not meant as a complaint of any sort, mind you, merely an observation.

Speaking of hot scruffy dudes who are actually massive dorks, did you SEE Ian’s most recent Insta pic?!  (the non-cowboy hat one)  Omg, I don’t know why he keeps complaining about how it’s starting to look like TW Season One hair like it’s some sort of bad thing.  (The longer the hair, the better the grip you can get. […uh…wait, what?… ’>.> ])  That pic just screams OUAT sequel to me.  Out here looking all shaggy and windblown and peaceful and content.  Proud Alpha Dad Peter spending quality time with his family/pack.  How very dare he spring this on an unsuspecting public with no warning?  I was not prepared.  (Also, Sinqua and Holland commenting on it just ups the adorable factor that much more.)

Also, was looking at a few sites lately in consideration of ordering a few more masks for work, found this print on one of them and almost laughed myself absolutely stupid.  I don’t know why it was just so funny to me, but I hope it cheers you as much as it did me.  Btw, it’s available on an impressive variety of items, including two types of notebooks, t-shirts, mugs, blankets, pillows, beach towels, shower curtains, rugs, bath mats, several styles of bags, phone cases, and assorted types of wall art (sadly not on a mask, however.  I was deeply disappointed.)  I can see any number of items ending up in the Haleargentski household, bought by assorted non-wolf members for assorted wolf members, because they are a family of assholes.  (I feel like the first gift was a travel mug to Peter from his darling husbands, then a t-shirt [on black ofc] from Peter to Derek, and then it just all snowballed from there.)

Today’s literally-just-appeared-out-of-nowhere-wtf-brain thought is (much like the French maid thing) definitely of the nsfw variety, so consider yourself duly warned if you have a shift today.  Because I mean we talked about Chris and Noah using toys on each other, but why should Peter get left out of the fun?  There are plenty of ways for him to enjoy them, too.  Like, pretty much the initial spontaneous thought was “Peter getting pulled into someone’s lap and being pegged within an inch of his life until he comes screaming down the throat of whichever one is going down on him at the same time."  And I was just like "not sure what this has to do with this video of how to make a ukelele out of colored pencils, but continue."  But like, no really.  Peter being knotted in one of them while the other uses beads or a (vibrating) plug on him?  (Which one is the asshole who momentarily turns the vibration up high enough that they BOTH can feel it?)  Or using those, or some kind of prostate massager, while he’s tied up and watching them with each other?  Bonus points in that situation for anything remote controlled.  See just how good his control really is.  Equal opportunity toy usage is what I’m saying, basically.

Also had a thought inspired by a pregnant friend and her fiance raving about a local pizza place’s monthly special, which is a pickle pizza (no really).  I may or may not have asked her if she had it with ice cream (I totally did, but apparently she’s past that point.)  So I was wondering about any weird or specific cravings the boys have while pregnant.  I remember Chris having a thing about chocolate pudding in the flashbacks.  Was it only a certain type of pudding, or would any kind do?  Were there any others he had?  Did he have the same ones with Ben or different?  What about Noah?  What sort of cravings did he get, if any?  And did they vary between sets of twins?  Did anybody go the aforementioned pickles and ice cream route?  Anybody dipping fries in Nutella?  Onion straws in peanut butter?  Doritos in cottage cheese?  Anybody eat salsa straight out of the jar?  Did anybody get any sudden absolute need for a specific fast food at two in the morning?  Or suddenly want a type of snack food only carried at one truck stop halfway past the next town?  Anybody spend several days eating nothing but veggie trays, including ones they normally can’t stand?  Anybody develop a temporary aversion to certain things, like coffee (feels like it would be a terrible thing for either of them)?  Did Peter cater to their every whim in any and all of these situations?  (I already know that answer.)  Did either one ever get demanding about it, or did they go the more passively-wistful-won’t-stop-mentioning-it route?  Side note; did anyone (not family) ever catch the wrong end of hormones now backed by even more combat and/or magical ability?  (Debbie at the bake sale best step off or she gonna regret a number of her life choices.)

Uh…I think that was the last of the random swirling questions/musings/headcanons for now…  I hope you feel a bit better today, and that the time off (I think you mentioned some time off?) is helpful.  Enjoy your time with your friend (that was this weekend, right?).  If you’ve got ideas for writing stuff, but are having trouble getting them down, would making quick notes/reminders, or voice recordings, for later help?  Like, so you don’t worry about losing them, but aren’t forcing yourself to do something you don’t feel up for at the time?  Either way, congrats on keeping up with the journaling (and the pretty, pretty art), and I hope tracking everything proves helpful.  And remember, other people’s bullshit issues and hang-ups are in no way your fault (no matter what they try to tell you), and you deserve all the good things.  Take care!  *Hugs to both of you!* 

Yeah, honestly I think I hit that point in my life again where my battery is drained and I can’t restart it. Which is how I got my burn out at first and working towards another one. Heh but I also don’t want to give up now and just keep working for a little longer because my contract expires at the end of September and yeah.. 

Stress.

Aww gosh thank you, yeah I really like how that one turned out! It was better than expected.

Btw if you’re into Zombie apocalypse stories (I am) you should definitely check out The girl with all the gifts. It’s so brutal but also interesting, I definitely enjoyed that. (And it was research for my own book)

Lol I love this keyboard and this laptop, really, it was the most expensive thing I ever bought but it’s so worth it. Still runs super smooth after 2 years. I don’t think I’ve seen that video of Henry though. 

And omg yes I did and it’s the best thing. he looks so SOFT omg. I def got  OUAT S2 vibes from that. And OUAT vibes. Also that pic of him with Colton, omg. Those were the best!

THAT PRINT!!!! I nearly snorted coffee out of my nose this morning but managed to swallow it down just in time. My work computer would have suffered caffeine damage otherwise XD.

But yeah, that becomes a running gag for sure!

Because I mean we talked about Chris and Noah using toys on each other, but why should Peter get left out of the fun?  There are plenty of ways for him to enjoy them, too.  Like, pretty much the initial spontaneous thought was “Peter getting pulled into someone’s lap and being pegged within an inch of his life until he comes screaming down the throat of whichever one is going down on him at the same time."

*cheff’s kiss* 

Yes.

Oh the images are so good. Remind me to write them out in detail tomorrow after the zoo trip.

Also parking the pregnancy cravings to answer tomorrow since it’s past midnight and I should catch some sleep before I need to be up again. But I will definitely type that HC out.

Side note; did anyone (not family) ever catch the wrong end of hormones now backed by even more combat and/or magical ability?  (Debbie at the bake sale best step off or she gonna regret a number of her life choices.)

Ohhh Debbie’s toast. Because yes, Noah’s magic is that much stronger when it’s fueled by pregnancy hormones and Chris turns into a very protective hormonal fighting machine. Low center of gravity has advantages when you’re in a squabble with the Karens.

And yeah, I have four days off right now. Which means I don’t have to work until Thursday again. Which is awesome!

But yeah work wasn’t too bad, I had to do one bad news conversation which fucking sucked since there was nothing I could do and nobody I could get a hold off to fix the problem for that customer and it was just a waiting game. I hate those conversations. I honestly do.

Most of it was quiet though and I got to leave an hour earlier due to the quiet day. So that was good. And I watched a movie while being paid (The girl with all the gifts) so that was pretty fun too XD

I actually voice record a lot already. I find it really helps with clearing my mind and I write a lot of stuff down. But I appreciate the tip!

Lots of cuddles from me and Mo and I hope your day went by well. <3

[mioriia]

ワン | Chapter 1 | Arc 0.1

The Wandering Maiden | Chapter 1

❝𝕀𝕥'𝕤 𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕖 𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕨𝕖 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕝𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟 𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝕕𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕤𝕥 𝕟𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕖𝕤 𝕒𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕒𝕞𝕖 𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕖❞

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

White.

Everything was covered with whiteness from buildings to the floor, there were people standing in line on both sides. They were smiling at me but I couldn't see their faces, all of them have white mist covering from their head to their eyes as the rest were around their lower bodies making me feel rather weird.

Like deja vu feeling or whatever they call it.

Is this heaven? Did that guy actually kill me when I blacked out? That sneaky little jerk!

❝Ugh...Whatever, It's too late to remember my past now that I'm dead-❞

That's because this is your memory.

❝Huh- Who's there?!❞

I turn my head from left to right, searching for the source of the voice who sounds so dangerously close to where I am but all I see was the blurred buildings and the people.

Idiot, I'm hidden which means you can't see me

❛Hey- That was rude!❜

Whatever

❛If I can't see you then how come you're talking to me right now?❜

We're demons obviously, we have that kind of advantages

❛Who are you?❜

I'm the voice

❛And why are you inside my head?❜

I'm not, rather I'm communicating through your mind

❛Quick question, are you a female or male?❜

... I beg your pardon but what kind of question is that?

❛Well I couldn't tell since you're hidden and your voice sounds quite feminine-❜

I'm a male

❛Ohhh I see! Well Mr. Voice, Am I really dead?❜

No, like I told you before this is your old memory

❛Anddddd What's kind of "old memory"?❜

I'm not going to answer that

I groaned, annoyed by this "so-called-voice".

❛Geez... What a stubborn girl-❜

I heard that and will you move it for once?!

❛Alright, Alright I will!❜

I heard he tch at my response before he start giving me orders to where to go and what NOT to touch even though this is my memory, he's acting as if he owns the place.

Do not touch THAT, didn't you hear me?!

❛But why?! It's so shiny!❜

You're acting like a child

❛I meant, you're not wrong though❜

You were supposed to deny it-

I've decide to tone out his voice, I could only walks down the road, passing them slowly before they suddenly disappeared and never be seen ever again and when I turn around a darker part of this place or should I said "my consciousness" . Something about this part is... feel rather strange like as if it was calling out to me.

I come across with sort of a invisible wall and how did I know? I actually bumped into it without realizing its existence, I look up in thought, humming to myself as I tried to think of a reason why there was a wall here in the first place.

However that was cut off short when my eyes caught the sight of something blurry just right ahead, the wall was the only thing prevented me from going near towards it, unlike the others which were the reflection of people, this one has a dark shape and outlines of a person.

❛Silhouettes?❜

Judging from how they look like, it's appear to belong to a female's and there were at least five or more from what I can see. From beyong this wall, there was nothing but a pitch black darkness with those silhouettes as its only source of lights.

I cupped my face, pressing against the wall to get a clear view of those silhouettes. It was almost impossible to see in there as if it was forbidden for me to find it's secrets...

I let out a gasp when my eyes were met with someone's, it was a young girl and just like the rest, her face was hidden but I saw the corners of her lips raise when I stare at her. She was mouthing something to me but I couldn't really get the full sentence, only a few caught my attention in the end.

Don't

Remember

Past

Evil

Took

Died

Protecting

My eyes widen as my mouth drops in shocked, trembling uncontrollably with shaking hands. I didn't know why but my body suddenly starts to shake in fear for no reasons, the girl from before suddenly vanished with the rest, following after her.

I dropped on my knees as I covered my mouth with both of my hands, trying to choke back the noises from coming out as my body continues to shivers nonstop, breathing heavily as if my lungs were running out of air.

❛What does she meant by that? Don't remember the past? Who died?❜

I didn't want to know the truth for some reasons yet I want to know no matter what. If my guess is correct then it's have to be involved with my memories loss and I want to know what happened to me, to find out who are those people to me, to find myself again for whatever my real identity is.

It's didn't matter if I suffered from finding the truth, this curiosity could be the death of me one day yet it's a good thing at the same time.

They once said "Curiosity killed the cat"

❛Oh, you're still here?❜

Of course I was, idiot!

❛I thought you already left since you were so quiet a moment ago❜

That's because you ignored me, you ungrateful br-

❛Oh, look! I found a book!!❜

Don't you just ignore me, you little-!

I found it suspicious at first since I was sure there was nothing but the Invisible wall here. Did someone place it here when I wasn't looking? I didn't want to question about it any further and I was already getting tired of this "secrets over here and there" thing...

I picked up the book from the ground and decide to examine it, the cover has a few shades of light blue but it was fill with burns and claws marks. There was a writing on the middle of the cover, the words were almost unreadable but I could make it the color of those, it was made out of gold.

The one who is responsible for this must be really strong to make it's almost unrecognized, I place two fingers on the words. Who knows? This could help me figure something out at least.

❝...Rei...na?❞

Is that my name? It's could be my given name from my parents seeing how the other two words were unfortunately wiped out completely so I couldn't read them even if I tried.

I gaze at the book intensely, growing frustrates by the second. Maybe a peek won't hurts right? After all there's a possibility of this book belongs to me who has the memories of the past. If it wasn't then why was it here in the first place? In my own mind?

But what I didn't know that my own curiosity could be the cause of the beginning of my worst nightmares.

The moment I flipped the book open, I struck by words coming out from the pages as unwanted images started flashing in front of my eyes. I didn't realized that those screams were coming from me, I couldn't heard his voice as if he was so far away...

Now you have done it, you fool...!

It was the last thing I heard before everything begin to crushing down on me like a broken glass sipping its drinks.

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•