#one day maybe ill do something with the half-formed idea i have of a modern au with rising pop star dorian storm and famous ballerina orym

[drawsmaddy]

[ID: A digital illustration of Dorian Storm from Critical Role. He is wearing modern clothing and the illustration is styled like a magazine cover with text at the top reading "Illustrated Exandria". There are two images of Dorian, in the largest he is wearing a blue crop top with straps at the bottom that aren't connected to anything, dark blue jeans, and black leather fingerless gloves that stop halfway up his biceps. The gloves also have a simple wing design on them and Dorian is holding an orange and yellow sparkly microphone that he is holding up to his mouth. The second, smaller image of Dorian is a close up on the left side of his face. He has his eyes closed and pink and yellow flowers decorate his cheek. A small third image in the bottom right shows a sunset coloured sky with two fluffy white clouds. End description.]

Dorian Storm, pop sensation!

[mimicofmodes]

“The Ladies Waldegrave” by Joshua Reynolds, 1780 (NGS NG2171)

I’ve complained before about two very big pet peeves of mine - corset stuff and Regency women being dressed in 1770s-1780s clothes - but one that may dwarf them because of how frequently it comes up in historical and fantasy fiction is the oppression of embroidery.

That’s probably putting it a bit too strongly. It’s more like ... the annoyance of embroidery. Every character worth reading about knows instinctively that sewing is a) boring, b) difficult, c) mindless, and d) pointless. The author doesn’t have to say anything more than “Belinda threw down her needlework and looked out the window, sighing,” to signal that this is an independent woman whose values align with the modern reader, who’s probably not really understood by her mother or mother figure, and who probably will find an extraordinary man to “match” her rather than settling for someone ordinary. To look at an example from fantasy, GRRM uses embroidery in the very beginning of A Game of Thrones to show that the Stark sister who dislikes it is sympathetic and interesting, while the Stark sister who is competent at it is boring and conventional and obviously not deserving of a PoV (until later books, when her attention gets turned to higher matters); further into the book, of course, the pro-needlework sister proves to be weak-willed and naïve.

Rozsika Parker, in the groundbreaking 1996 work The Subversive Stitch, noted that “embroidery has become indelibly associated with stereotypes of femininity,” which is the core of the issue. "Instead embroidery and a stereotype of femininity have become collapsed into one another, characterised as mindless, decorative and delicate; like the icing on the cake, good to look at, adding taste and status, but devoid of significant content.” 

Parker also points out that the stereotype isn’t just one that was invented in the present day by feminists who hated the idea of being forced to do a certain craft. “The association between women and embroidery, craft and femininity, has meant that writers concerned with the status of women have often turned their attention towards this tangled, puzzling relationship. Feminists who have scorned embroidery tend to blame it for whatever constraint on women's lives they are committed to combat. Thus, for example, eighteenth-century critical commentators held embroidery responsible for the ill health which was claimed as evidence of women's natural weakness and inferiority.”

There are two basic problems I have with the trope, beyond the issue of it being incredibly cliché:

First: needlework was not just busywork

A big part of what drives the stereotype is the impression that what women were embroidering was either a sampler:

sampler embroidered by Jane Wilson, 14, in 1791 (MMA 2010.47)

or a picture:

unfinished embroidery of David and Abigail, British, 1640s-50s (MMA 64.101.1325)

That is, something meant to hang on the wall for no real purpose.

These are forms of schoolwork, basically. Samplers were made by young girls up to their early teens, and needlework pictures were usually something done while at school or under a governess as a showpiece of what was being learned - not just the stitching itself, but also often watercolors (which could be worked into the design), artistic sensibility, and the literature, history, or art that might be alluded to. And many needlework pictures made in schools were also done as mourning pieces, sometimes blank, for future use, and sometimes to commemorate a recent death in the family. A lot of them are awkward, clearly just done to pass the class, but others are really artwork.

Many schools for middle- and upper-class girls taught the making of these objects (and other “ornamental” subjects) alongside a more rigorous curriculum - geography, Latin, chemistry, etc. At some, sewing was also always accompanied by serious reading and discussion. (And it would often be done while someone read aloud or made conversation later in life, too.)

Once done with their education, women generally didn’t bother with purely decorative work. Some things that fabric could be embroidered for included:

Jackets 

Bed coverings and bedcurtains

Collars and undersleeves 

Pelerines 

Neck handkerchiefs and sleeve ruffles 

Screens

Upholstery

Handkerchiefs

Purses, wallets, and reticules

Boxes

Book covers

Plus other articles of clothing like waistcoats, caps, slippers, gown hems, chemises, etc. Women’s magazines of the nineteenth century often gave patterns and alphabets for personal use.

(Not to mention late nineteenth century female artists who worked in embroidery, but that’s something else.)

You could purchase all of these pre-embroidered, but many, many women chose to do it themselves. There are a number of reasons why: maybe they wanted something to do, maybe they felt like they should be doing needlework for moral/gender reasons, maybe they couldn’t afford to buy anything - and maybe they enjoyed it or wanted to give something they made to a person they loved. That firescreen above was embroidered by Marie Antoinette, someone who had any number of other activities to choose from. It’s no different than people today who like to knit their own hats and gloves or bake their own bread, except that it was way more mainstream.

embroidery patterns from Ackermann’s Repository in 1827 - they could be used on dresses, collars, handkerchiefs, etc.

Second: needlework wasn’t the only “useless” thing women were expected to do

Ignoring the bulk of point one for now and the value of embroidery - I mentioned “ornamental subjects” above. As many people know, young women of the upper and middle classes were expected to be “accomplished” in order to be seen as marriageable. This could include skills like embroidery, drawing, painting, singing, playing the piano (as well as other instruments, like the harp or the mandolin), speaking French (if not also Italian and/or German), as well as broader knowledge and abilities like being well-versed in music, literature, and poetry, dancing and walking gracefully, writing good letters in an elegant hand, and being able to read out loud expressively and smoothly.

This wasn’t a checklist. As the famous discussion in Pride and Prejudice shows, individuals could have different views on what actually made a woman accomplished:

“How I long to see her again! I never met with anybody who delighted me so much. Such a countenance, such manners! And so extremely accomplished for her age! Her performance on the pianoforte is exquisite.”

“It is amazing to me,” said Bingley, “how young ladies can have patience to be so very accomplished as they all are.”

“All young ladies accomplished! My dear Charles, what do you mean?”

“Yes, all of them, I think. They all paint tables, cover screens, and net purses. I scarcely know anyone who cannot do all this, and I am sure I never heard a young lady spoken of for the first time, without being informed that she was very accomplished.”

“Your list of the common extent of accomplishments,” said Darcy, “has too much truth. The word is applied to many a woman who deserves it no otherwise than by netting a purse or covering a screen. But I am very far from agreeing with you in your estimation of ladies in general. I cannot boast of knowing more than half-a-dozen, in the whole range of my acquaintance, that are really accomplished.”

“Nor I, I am sure,” said Miss Bingley.

“Then,” observed Elizabeth, “you must comprehend a great deal in your idea of an accomplished woman.”

“Yes, I do comprehend a great deal in it.”

“Oh! certainly,” cried his faithful assistant, “no one can be really esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with. A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half-deserved.”

“All this she must possess,” added Darcy, “and to all this she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading.”

Mr. Bingley feels that a woman is accomplished if she has the ability to do a number of different arts and crafts. Miss Bingley feels (or says she feels) that it goes beyond specific skills and into branches of artistic attainment, plus broader personal qualities that could be imparted by well-bred governesses or mothers. And Mr. Darcy, of course, agrees with that but adds an academic angle as well.

But what ties all of these accomplishments together is their lack of value on the labor market. A woman could earn a living with any one accomplishment, if she worked hard enough at it to become a professional, but young ladies weren’t supposed to be professional-level good because they by definition weren’t going to earn a living. All together, they trained a woman for the social and domestic role of a married woman of the upper middle or upper class, or, if she couldn’t get married, a governess or teacher who would share her accomplishments with the next generation.

(To be fair, almost none of the trappings of an upper-middle/upper class male education had anything to do with the kind of career training that college frequently is today, either. Men were educated to know the cultural touchpoints of their class and fit in with their peers.)

There are reasons that an individual person/character might specifically object to embroidery, but it was far from the only “useless” thing that an unconventional heroine would be required to do against her inclination by her conventional mother/grandmother/aunt/chaperone. Embroidery stands out to modern audiences because most of the other accomplishments are now valued as gender-neutral arts and skills.

“The Embroidery Frame”, by Mathilde Weil, ca. 1900 (LOC 98501309)

So, some thoughts for writers of historical fiction (or fantasy that’s supposed to be just like the 19th/18th/17th/etc century):

- If your heroine doesn’t like embroidery, she probably doesn’t like a number of other things she’s expected to do. Don’t pull out embroidery as either more expected or more onerous than them. Does she hate to sit still? I’d imagine she also dislikes drawing and practicing the piano. Would she prefer to do academic subjects? She probably also resents learning French instead of Latin, and music and dancing. Does she hate enforced femininity? Then she’d most likely have a problem with all of the accomplishments.

- If your heroine just and specifically doesn’t like embroidery, try to show in the narrative that that’s not because it’s objectively bad, and only able to be liked by the boring. Have another sympathetic character do it while talking to the heroine. Note that the hero carries a flame-stitched wallet that’s his sister’s work. Emphasize the heroine’s emotional connection to her deceased or absent mother through her affection for clothing or upholstery that her mother embroidered - or through a mourning picture commemorating her. There are all kinds of things you can do to show that it’s a personal preference rather than a stupid craft that doesn’t take talent and skill!

mourning picture for Daniel Goodman, probably embroidered by a Miss Goodman, 1803 (MMA 56.66)

[stillness-in-green]

MVA In Memoriam (3/5)

The Comprehensive Account of the Butchering of My Villain Academia

(Introduction and Part One, Episode 108: My Villain Academia) (Part Two, Episode 109: Revival Party)

Part Three, Episode 110: Sad Man's Parade

Chapter 229 – All It Takes Is One Bad Day

• The full first page, of Jin getting mobbed by Puppet!Jins, them tearing his mask off, and flinging it and then him away. Saved them a bit of budget, I suppose, but it’s a shame to lose the drama and the violence of Twice having his mask pulled away, since it’s decent foreshadowing (indeed, possibly intentionally so, on Skeptic’s part) for the violent bewilderment he’ll be subject to shortly.

• Re-Destro’s line, “Not when he’s using his meta-ability to puppeteer, unless you want another nagging lecture.” They didn’t keep the first nagging lecture, so of course they wouldn’t keep this. I’m still annoyed, both on general principle and at the loss of RD’s implication that these nagging lectures are a regular occurrence, especially if one tries to bother Skeptic when he’s using his meta-ability. Has RD himself been on the receiving end of one? Possibly so! But you’d be less likely to think so just from the anime.

• Re-Destro’s line, “This allowed our warriors to momentarily hold back and stay out of danger.” Because why would the audience need to know that Skeptic planned for and Re-Destro cares enough to observe something like that lol?? Obviously the MLA is perfectly content to just throw their peoples’ lives away because, whatever, more where that came from! Dammit, anime, the fandom believes this enough as it is without confirmation bias from your cuts!

• Skeptic’s “fufufu” laugh, because the anime is allergic to the MLA having fun.

• The police officer’s line, “Sure, but in a case like this, you’re still to blame.” The rest of the exchange hints at it, of course, but there’s a horrifying callousness to a police officer just saying straight to the face of a teenaged orphan facing his first offense, “Yes, you were obeying the law perfectly and this guy just ran out in front of you, but it’s going on your criminal record anyway, whatever.” A weight the anime lost, and another that makes me very suspicious of the patterns behind what, precisely, was put on the chopping block.[1]

• Jin’s narration, “That police officer couldn’t have known. Me neither.” Demonstrates that Jin doesn’t really hold his fall against the one policeman. It’s a consistent thread with Jin’s character that, while he’s very jaded, he’s not actually vengeful, nor is he looking to enact systemic change. While he’s very defensive of his friends, people who hurt Jin himself are never in any real danger of him coming to collect his pound of flesh in return; he just rolls with it as part of how the world works, in the way of someone who was never given reason to believe any different. This line is a good example of that.

• From Jin’s old employer’s angry rant, deletes the note that the client that called is angry, and that the client said, “That young punk of yours did this!” It’s nothing that wasn’t obvious from the rest of the conversation, but I do I think cutting it loses a sense that this guy is just unloading all of his frustration and fear on Jin. The length of the screed, the extra details—it clearly communicates that Jin’s boss is so angry and upset he’s not paying any real mind to filtering, but just recounting every point of contention the moment they come into his mind.

• In modern society, when you’re someone without roots… Well, not a lot of people can relate to that.” It isn’t just the police that failed Jin; it’s a whole society that’s distrustful of people who don’t have a place in the fabric, and thus are unwilling to try and bring them into it. Like Tenko, there are a thousand little places where someone could have reached out a hand, but no one ever did. The audience can intuit this, but I feel it’s better to be clear about it—it’s not just the legal system that screwed Jin over; it’s every other person that never tried to help him because they were afraid of his eyes or distrusted a guy who had no connections. When Shigaraki comes, he’s not going to be coming for heroes alone; he’ll be coming for this entire tapestry of indifference and timidity.

• Skeptic’s lines, “Hrm? Fighting back? I was sure he’d either flee or cower in place... We didn’t anticipate such unity between them.” This gets at two things. Firstly, and once again, that the MLA did their research; that they came into this with educated expectations and a definite plan. Secondly, an in-character observation of what the arc has been showing the audience all along: that the League isn’t just a disparate gang of hoodlums anymore; that they’re developing real bonds. Those bonds mark them as unusual—Re-Destro comments on it in 223, as did Overhaul in 147; even Mr. Compress remarks disapprovingly on Twice’s “habit” of getting overly attached to people. It’s striking that, even though the MLA knew from Giran’s records that the League was uncommonly well-bonded, Twice’s devotion still fell outside Skeptic’s parameters.[2]

• Again Skeptic’s line, “Now his legs.” The drones don’t actually get this far (though you can see them gearing up for it on the next page), so it’s a reasonable enough cut, but it does emphasize the ludicrous, over-the-top extremes Skeptic in particular is willing to go to in securing what he wants. If, you know, “Kidnap the doubler so we have a method to make copies of the Grand Commander at our leisure,” wasn’t bonkers enough.

• Twice’s line, “Even against Gigantomachia!” It really highlights just how much mental energy Twice has been dedicating to avoiding injury, that he was able to keep it in mind even fighting a foe as overwhelming, and for as extended a period, as Machia. And like, the anime blitzed over the Machia fight so quickly, and with so little visible wear and tear to the League, that it really could have used all the reminders it could find room for about how intense those six weeks were.

• Twice’s line, “I won’t watch a friend die!” Such an important line that the composer named an entire track for it, not that the anime gave us that track in the moment it was clearly scored for. They added in a new line later in the scene which mostly gets the important sentiments back in, but loses out in being slightly less fitting to his breakthrough. See the Additions portion of the write-up on Chapter 230, following.

Framing Shifts

• The policeman in Jin’s flashback looked up at him in the anime, where in the manga, his eyes stay down on his paperwork the entire time. I realize that anime can’t just still-frame every panel of a manga and call it an adaptation,[3] so characters will do things like move and look around in different directions just in the course of inhabiting a room, Still, in this case, it has the effect of making the officer look more alert and engaged than he was in the manga, and given that this whole chunk of backstory is about Jin slipping through the social safety net, it feels appropriate to me that the officer should be completely checked out.

Additions

• A new shot of Jin(s) in his pre-massacre doppelganger army days. Didn’t tell us anything we don’t already know—it’s little more than a new angle of the gang in the truck—but it was nice to see.

Bonus Note

• They left Re-Destro’s phrase, “My company,” alone when he was talking about the micro-transceivers Skeptic was using. That’s accurate to the manga, but I’d like to remind everyone that, at that point in the anime, viewers whose only reference is the anime itself have no idea that Re-Destro is a businessman. The show skipped the commercial, RD’s intro, the dinner scene where his company comes up, and Giran’s association of RD with Detnerat; it will further go on to skip Shigaraki recognizing him from the commercial. The news report mentioning Detnerat was ten full episodes prior to Episode 110, and was followed up on in not the faintest degree. For heaven’s sake, would it have been so hard to have Hirata Hiroaki say, “My Detnerat’s,” instead of just, “My company’s”?

Chapter 230 – Sad Man’s Parade

• Deleted the MLA members that are attacking Compress as they get pushed off by the Twice wave. Not the first time, and not the last, that the anime didn’t animate the random MLA people on the street. It’s hard to take the threat of their numbers seriously when the anime kept deleting them from what are supposed to be crowd scenes, you know?

• Mr. C thinking worriedly about Dabi as he’s mulling over Geten’s strength and disregard for catching his own people in the collateral damage. It’s just a, “Dabi—!” but it’s yet another tiny cut that shaves away at the manga’s clear depiction of Leagues’ concern for one another—even Mr. Compress, who claims that such things aren’t very villainous.

Framing Shifts

• Changed the random MLA’s exhortation to kill all the Twices to a generic, “Damn—!” I know American censors have often taken issue with the words “Kill” and “Die” in kids’ cartoons, but I was never of the impression that that was the case in Japan. And it’s not like the show made any bones about Curious planning to kill Toga. A rephrase to save a second and a half on dialogue, maybe?

• Had Skeptic give his lines about failure on the way over to the elevator instead of stalking over in silence, and then dumping the whole monologue all at once. The manga’s extended silence over three identically sized panels is much funnier and more characterful. I grow ever more confident in my assessment of Skeptic as the second-most ill-treated MLA character in this adaptation.

• The return of the Doom Choirs for the Twice Parade. I really wish the anime would lay off slathering Doom Choirs all over everything, especially a moment like this: a triumph for Twice, and, true to form for Twice, also crammed to the gills with visual and verbal gags. The Doom Choir is out of keeping with both the victory and the comedy—Mine Woman, later on, served the Parade much better.

Additions

• Gave Twice a new line, “I will protect my comrades!” It was nice to make up for his, “I won’t watch a friend die!” but the latter is more characterful, especially since a more literal translation is, “I won’t kill my friends!” Which is, you know, relevant to the fact that Twice has problems telling himself apart from things that just look like him, and he just had to intervene to stop some of those look-alikes from killing one of said friends. At least it got his use of nakama back in.[4]

• A new little cut of animation as the action went back to Geten and Dabi. I suppose the Dabi fans liked it, and it was nice to see more of Geten’s ice dragon, but I’d have much preferred they could keep the scenes we already have before adding new ones.

Chapter 231 – Path

The scene of Hawks wondering why he hasn’t heard from Dabi and his subsequent flashback to the last time they spoke were relocated to the beginning of Episode 102, the first thing the audience saw after the prior episode ended with Shouto inviting Bakugou and Deku to come intern with him at Endeavor’s. In the manga, of course, it’s not “a few weeks ago in Kyushu,” it’s “meanwhile in Osaka.” Also, the order of the scenes was flipped—the episode led with the flashback, then returned to the modern day. It really makes the timeline needlessly confusing—the viewer has no real context for what we’re seeing and when, especially since the anime neglected to specify how much time passed between the two scenes. You have to assume it was enough time for an outcry to be raised over Jeanist’s disappearance, but the random shot of a bird flying over was not at all helpful there.

          Alterations included (as usual, outright removed material is in bold text):

          1. Cut Hawks’ thought, “That’s why you keep calling,” and his line, “What’s the job?” I know I should give a breakdown here about Hawks’ mentality and training, but I’m afraid I don’t have it in me to complain about any lines Takami Keigo loses. God knows the anime gives him plenty enough bonus material.

          2. Spliced in the flashback scene of Hawks reporting to the Commission from Chapter 243, but subtly changed it to suggest that it took place after the phonecall in which Dabi demanded Hawks kill a non-Endeavor top hero, rather than it taking place right after Hawks and Dabi’s first contact, which is what the manga implies.

          3. Deleted several key shots in the Jeanist apartment scene, with the effect of making Hawks way less creepy. We got an anime-original shot of his eyes, narrow and serious, but not either of the shots of his big, off-putting grin and widened eyes as he pulls a feather-blade on Jeanist. We also lost a shot of Jeanist turning to face him, framed between extended primaries of Hawks’ Fierce Wings. It’s not like the anime dropped the fake!Dead Jeanist plot, so I’m not sure why the shift, unless it’s just that they wanted to keep Hawks likable for the merch-buying crowd, not creepy and unsettling. And while I personally never believed that Hawks really killed Jeanist, a lot of people thought it was plausible, no doubt based on how off-kilter he comes across in this scene. It loses a real frisson, to just play it straight.

• Shigaraki decaying a missile in mid-air. So Dabi can get those little animation flourishes but Tomura can’t, huh, anime? I see how it is. I. See. How. It. Is.

• Spinner’s little side comment about all the ice everywhere. A nice demonstration that Geten and Dabi’s fight really is affecting huge swathes of the city; that’s certainly apparent already in a bunch of the wide shots showing exactly that, but it’s helpful to have the more zoomed-in moments, too. Also, I do enjoy those little side quips wherever we get them, and the anime often removes them.

• Thinned out the crowd guarding the route to the tower somewhat (it’s particularly noticeable on the mid-distance rooftops) and, as best I can tell, removed Shigaraki and Spinner from the shot. Why keep all the lines harping on the 110,000 number when a) it’s not even accurate to the MLA’s forces, just the League’s assumptions, and b) the studio doesn’t even have the resources to adequately convey the numbers the manga does portray?

• Somebody in the crowd being defiant about Twice’s multiplication and vigorously declaring that the League are all just sacrifices for the MLA’s Revival Party anyway. The background nobodies? Allowed to express even bog-standard over-confidence? Well I never. How dare those people think their lives count enough for them to get dialogue.

• Spinner’s, “This keeps happening!” Of course he couldn’t have that line in the anime, since the anime cut the other big place Trumpet clearly used his power to rile up his followers. What other times were you even talking about when you said, “Every time he talks,” Anime!Spinner? That scene was the first time we even saw Trumpet since he welcomed you guys to town.

• Twice calling Re-Destro a cult leader. He just called him a damn moron (bakayarou) in the anime; he uses the considerably more specific baka kyouso (Google Translate gives “guru”; jisho gives “founder of a religious sect”). He uses the same term again immediately afterward—Viz’s translation gives, “More like chrome dome cult!”—which the anime also deleted.

          So here’s another example of the anime doing everything it could to erase the presence of cults in the HeroAca world. The easy assumption to make is that this was tied to broadcast standards about the depiction of what Japan refers to as “new religious movements,” which—and pardon the brief swerve into real life historical horrors here—have been very unpopular in Japan since Aum Shinrikyo and the sarin gas attacks in 1995. But were these elements removed because the anime didn’t want to represent anything that smacks of new religious movements at all, or because the depiction of both the MLA and particularly the CRC are explicitly villainous and calling religious movements, even made-up ones, evil on TV leads to a lot of angry phone calls?

• Re-Destro’s line, “Unlike my good Miyashita, there’s nothing charming about you.” Of course they’d cut this, having cut the Miyashita scene, but I hate it anyway. As I said earlier, RD’s invocation of Miyashita in front of two people who are going to have not the slightest clue who that is tells me that Re-Destro really does miss and feel bad about killing the guy. Cutting the reminder that RD still feels that sting makes it much too easy to assume that Shigaraki’s right about RD hiding up in his tower, uncaring of the blood shed on his behalf, when if you read Re-Destro with even the slightest of attempts at good faith, it’s clear that those losses weigh very heavily on him.

          Incidentally, and not to harp on the art again, but in the manga, Stress is still visibly spread down from RD’s temple to the ridge of his brow over his eye socket. The anime returned it back to its normal resting state, again suggesting that the death toll mounting in the streets below (as well as, possibly, the new stress of confronting a quirk as powerful as Double) left RD completely unmoved. The spread was back in the following shot, so it was probably just an art error, but it would be nice to have had fewer of those, especially when they impact characterization as much as what RD’s Stress blots are doing at any given time.

Framing Shifts

• Had Machia doing this weird cannonball skim just over the ground, when in the manga, he’s still half-buried, spraying earth and stone everywhere. The manga never namedrops Machia’s Mole quirk during the story itself, but it’s important to know for later that Machia can not only tear through obstacles, he can tear through obstacles extremely quickly.

Additions

• Gave Hawks a few new lines about how too many unexpected things happened for their last arrangement, and that Dabi should have given him more warning. Largely seemed to be there to give the anime an excuse to flashback to the High End fight, in case the viewers had completely forgotten about Hawks and Dabi having a clandestine meeting and sniping at each other in the aftermath of that event. An understandable addition, but deeply frustrating in the context of all the lines that got cut.

Chapter 232 – Meta Abilities and Quirks

• Dropped a third instance of Twice calling Re-Destro a cult leader. I don’t know what the S&P restriction is on this, but given that the movie was allowed to create and villainize an entire international terrorist cult, it is really incomprehensible that the MLA doesn’t get to keep their designation as such. Why?? Because the movie involves going out and defeating its cult, but the series is going to engage in a more sympathetic treatment?[5] Because the self-selecting movie crowd is less likely to complain than the TV audience? Did they just not want to draw attention to how much the movie was ripping off the MLA’s whole shtick? What??

• Missed that RD’s swole arm swipe wipes out the puppets Skeptic left behind; they just vanished from the scene entirely after Twice’s arrival. It’s hard to blame the anime for this; the manga also seems to lose track of the fact that they’re right there in between RD and the elevator—they’re nowhere to be seen anywhere between the end of Chapter 231 and the aforementioned arm swipe, where you can see them getting obliterated. Both versions could have stood to be more attentive to this; indeed, the anime could have fixed it, small error though it is.

• A sort of twitchy sparking around Shigaraki’s hand right after he decays the tower. This is foreshadowing that Shigaraki’s big AOE decay attacks are hard on his body, which will become extremely apparent after he unleashes it on the city at large during the climax, and factors into his decision to accept the mysterious power Ujiko offers. The damage Shigaraki sustains there doesn’t come out of nowhere; Horikoshi is, on the whole, extremely good at layering in foreshadowing many chapters before the foreshadowed elements come fully to light. It makes the writing look much messier than it actually is—more convenient, more pat—to delete this stuff.

• Shigaraki recognizing RD from the Detnerat commercials. Well, they ditched the Detnerat commercial, so of course they ditched this. Still, it lost one of the indicators that Shigaraki is, despite not receiving a formal education, actually quite up to speed on current events—even, apparently, when those current events are happening while he’s been fighting Machia in an isolated stretch of mountains for six weeks! I already suffer enough through fanon characterizations of Shigaraki in which he’s a basement-dwelling feral manchild glued to his gaming console whom AFO bans from accessing information about the outside world, anime! I don’t need you dropping the scenes that most clearly demonstrate otherwise!!

• In the anime, Baby!Chikara’s face was unmarked, just a normal infant face—you’d never even know the kid had a meta-ability just to look at him. In the manga, the skin of his face is clearly darker, contrasted against the paleness of his mother’s hand. It’s obvious that he’s not “normal” looking, and thus equally obviously would have attracted negative attention in his era.[6] Also had his mother smiling; her face in the manga is too shadowed and vague to make out an expression, befitting the murky tragedy of her story and the fear she must have been living with.

Framing Shifts

Additions

• A little thing: they had Twice echo, “Cushion?” when Clone!Shigaraki told him to get ready to cushion Giran’s fall. If anything, Re-Destro and his little thought-bubbled question mark is probably the one who should have had this reaction line.

• Added a visual for Clone-araki catching himself on the window. A perfectly reasonable way to fill screen time while a dialogue beat was ongoing.

• Added a panning still over a reaction shot from a bunch of Twice clones when the tower came down. It had a few good faces in it.

                                                           ---

So, generally, this episode was better. I definitely still had issues with it, but compared to what came before, when they were trying to cram 5+ chapters into the episodes, there were far fewer cuts, and what cuts and tweaks there were, were relatively minor. Definitely nothing that made me want to throw chairs Jerry Springer-style the way 108 and 109 did.

Sadly, I can't say the same for the remaining two episodes. Come back next time for Part Four, Episode 111: Shimura Tenko, Origin.

FOOTNOTES

[1] After witnessing the massacre that was Episode 108, I was convinced they were going to cut the policeman scene entirely, and just go right to Jin getting fired for hitting someone with his bike, letting the audience think it was his fault completely rather than cast aspersions on police and the justness of the law. I was pleased they kept it at all, but less pleased with the steps taken to soften the sharpness of its accusation.

[2] Of course, it’s not like the MLA themselves don’t understand the willingness to give everything for the people who matter. They just label those feelings Devotion To The Cause, and don’t think the League is capable of such resolution.

[3] Netflix’s Way of the House Husband, be told.

[4] Nakama is, of course, a shonen standby, but, to the best of my knowledge (which is admittedly limited; I don’t follow a lot of shounen series), it’s pretty rare to hear the word coming out of a villain’s mouth! Jin calling the League his nakama ties into how the League are both sympathetic villains in the larger story and also the protagonists of the current arc, thereby operating under a lot of protag tropes for the duration—foreshadowed by Spinner’s earlier talk of Shigaraki and his boyish, dream-chasing eyes.

[5] Sometime after the mass arrests, one hopes.

[6] This could well be a coloring error in the manga, but if so, you’d think they’d have corrected it for the volume release. Especially given that, again, the color is in a different shade/screentone than the shadow that covers most of his mother’s face, and her hand stroking Chikara’s chin isn’t shadowed at all.

[vanderlindemangofarm]

The Van der Linde Gang - Jobs in a Modern AU

I’ve been really inspired to write about this lately and I’d love to hear your takes! These are the occupations that I think each gang member would have in a modern AU. Some were more challenging than others, but hopefully you guys can see where I’m coming from with each! 

Arthur: Film location scout. His natural eye for photography and framing makes Arthur the perfect member of a pre-production team. His no-bullshit approach to everything means he keeps to deadlines, although he’s known to go wandering off into the wilderness for unknown amounts of time. He enjoys the lone working side of his job and finding exactly the right spots that would make the film come to life. He doesn’t always like the films once they’re finished (in fact he’s often bought cinema tickets and walked out half way through, grumbling that it wasn’t worth the popcorn) but he can’t deny the excited buzz he gets every time he gets hired. In his early years as an assistant he met Bertie Mason, a nervous but talented photography intern. Despite an ill-advised hookup after a week joined at the hip they have remained close friends and still go out on shoots together. 

John: landscape gardener. John? Flowers? Yes, alright, I found it hard to believe too. But look, it’s not about the flowers, even if he does get misty-eyed at the sight of a sunflower in the early morning light. It’s about the challenge, the outdoors, and solving problems. After all the renovations he did to his house and garden (some more successful than others) John found how much satisfaction he got from digging and reshaping and planting. Don’t get me wrong, he’s often without a shirt, even in the colder months, much to the delight of some and the horror of others. He always makes friends with the household pets and is wonderful with the kids, always dropping his task to throw a frisbee around for a bit or cheekily accept an ice cold glass of lemonade from their mothers. Whenever he drives past one of his projects he feels himself glowing with pride - “I did that!”. 

Dutch: philosophy lecturer. As always, late with Starbucks. Will he actually grade your essay? Will it mysteriously disappear? Keeps you on your toes, doesn’t it? Sitting precariously on the very edge of his desk, leather jacket hanging off his shoulders and losing his balance every 15 minutes, Dr Van der Linde is nothing short of a wonder. For the love of all that is holy, do not get him started on Kant. Kant has no place here. You want to talk about your precious Kant? Get your butt down to Dr O’Driscoll’s class, he has plenty to say about Kant. Perhaps a little too fond of Socrates. Plato who? Completely illegible handwriting and definitely sleeping with several members of the faculty. But somehow his students always walk away with excellent grades. At the end of each term Dutch takes everyone out to a local bar for drinks, insists on buying tequila which no one really fancies at 11am. Claims to ride a motorcycle called The Count which no one has actually seen. Impossible to hate, and he writes everyone great references for their summer internships. 

Hosea: social worker. In a crisis, there’s no one better to knock on your door. Hosea has seen it all and he’ll see it all again, but that doesn’t stop him from treating every single case he gets with the upmost respect and care. His no-nonsense approach to his work means he gets things done, but he never sacrifices his compassion. He mostly works with teenagers and has a way of being able to connect to each individual without coming across as patronising. He’s been in the field for over two decades and is an invaluable mentor for any newcomers, always willing to share a word or two of advice or be a shoulder to cry on. 

Javier: guitar teacher and music therapist. During his worst years, Javier’s guitar was his lifeline. And he wants to help others find their lifeline, too. He works on a freelance basis, mainly going into mental health hospitals, schools and prisons. He runs workshops focusing on guitar playing, but brings other instruments (mainly percussion) to try too. He’s a gentle teacher, always with a joke in his back pocket for when you need it most. He has nicknames for everyone and remembers everything they’ve ever told him. He’s patient and never lets anyone feel bad for making a mistake. Javier also runs an after-school guitar club at the local middle school alongside playing his own music at gigs whenever he can. No, he doesn’t reply to DMs no matter how thirsty they are. 

Sadie: self-defense instructor. After surviving an attack several years ago, Sadie used her ferocity to get her qualification in self-defense to teach other women how to fight back should they need to. Her husband Jake helps out in her classes, happily allowing himself to be thrown around and slammed onto the mat as many times as required. Her students are terrified of her in the best and nicest way. Sadie also volunteers at a women’s refuge, providing emergency care and taking phone calls. 

Charles: environmental campaign manager. Charles has always been drawn to charities and started doing voluntary work for Greenpeace when he was at university, securing an internship with them in Canada which led to a full time job. Whilst Charles mainly hosts meetings and organises events, he also works closely with elementary schools and runs workshops with outdoor activities, crafts and music. Last week they made bird feeders! It was awesome. He’s also a keen activist and regularly meets up with Javier to go to protests and community events, most recently for BLM. 

Micah: motorcycle mechanic. Micah is massively invested in motorcycle culture and treats his beloved bike better than his own mother, if he still spoke to her. Although he pretends not to care, fixing bikes is his greatest passion and almost looks...happy when he’s doing it? Maybe? He likes knowing more than the people who stop by his shop and makes sure they know it. Occasionally he leaves his number on a scrap of paper inside women’s handbags when they’re not looking but for some reason none of them call. Like it or not, he’s incredibly skilled and will have your motorcycle singing a tune if that’s what you want. Euphemism? Of course not. 

Abigail: nurse. She was so shy when she realised she wanted to pursue nursing - would people laugh at her? Was she too impatient, too nagging, too shrill? Her dyslexia always put her off going into further education and she was always discouraged by her parents. But with lots of encouragement from Hosea (who helped her to fill out her applications and other forms) and her friends, Abigail went to university in her 30′s to get her degree. She graduated top of her class and now works full time in her local hospital, based mostly in the emergency room. From drunken brawlers to tearful children and grumpy old men with lumbago, Abigail has learnt to keep her cool and to have faith in her own ability. 

Molly: holistic therapist and masseuse. It took years to get that bastard of a philosopher out of her head (and out of her bed - damn those happy hour drinks “for old times’ sake”), but she’s finally free. Molly radiates a kindness that few took to the time to see, and she wanted to take strength from her past struggles to help others who may need someone to listen, just as she did. Molly took a bunch of online courses in various holistic therapies, including aromatherapy and massage, as this was something she had always been interested in. She runs a tiny clinic on a quiet street, the rooms filled with sunshine and the scent of geraniums. She also has a quite popular ASMR YouTube channel, Emerald Eyes ASMR, which she shyly admits just reached 500k subscribers. Her most popular video, ‘Irish Girl Helps You Fall Asleep (soft spoken, tapping, mouth sounds)’ just reached over a million hits. 

Kieran: veterinarian specialising in equine care. Much like Abigail, Kieran didn’t like the idea of going back into education. He’d had a rough time of it as a teenager, dropping out of high school early and working a string of menial jobs for the next decade. They paid his rent, but he still felt poor. His favourite job, however, was working at a stable. The horses made him feel calm and he found that he could read them better than most people. He went to the library and read as much as he could about them. From there, he got himself an apprenticeship which paved the way for him to earn his degree in veterinary science. He smiled so hard in his graduation photo his eyes disappeared into his cheeks. He travels all over the local countryside, visiting farms and ranches to care for the horses. His confidence picked up after the first few blunders, and little by little he’s saving up to buy his own ranch one day. 

Lenny: political science student. You know that kid who always looks amazing, even in 9am lectures? Yeah, that’s not Lenny, but he’s sat just behind. See him? Yep, the one rubbing sleep from his eyes as he pushes through the effects of another all-nighter. It’s not due to procrastination, but from perfectionism. He spends hour agonising over references, appendixes and even titles. One time he was so tired he signed his work “Ynnel”. He’s completely in love with his course and relishes every class he takes. Oh, he’s taking Dutch’s ‘History of Western Philosophy’ module by the way. Sitting in the front row, middle seat, directly in front of Dutch, his eyes glinting wickedly. Poor Dutch. Lenny has a counterpoint for absolutely everything and can barely stifle his laughter as Dutch gets more and more flustered. He’s been dating Jenny Kirk, an English Lit student, for the past few months and it’s going well. So well in fact, that he might stop hiding his Doctor Who merchandise every time she comes to his dorm room. 

Tilly: business student. Tilly started university at the same time as Lenny and they still always go to the library together, rolling their eyes at each other over their morning peppermint lattes. Tilly is at the forefront of any and all on-campus activism. Think of Sam from Dear White People - that’s our Tilly. She wears her Ravenclaw scarf all autumn and winter long and posts scathing Instagram stories about the cafeteria food. But she’s powerfully kind and very ambitious, taking on a part time job tutoring kids with dyslexia in their reading and writing. 

Susan: midwife. Think having a baby is scary? Try crossing Nurse Grimshaw. She’s here now, and that baby is coming out of you one way or another. She’ll hold your hand through thick and thin but if you dare say “I can’t do it” one more time she’ll unleash hell. Susan will make sure everyone has a job to do. Partner just standing there like a lemon? Not on her watch. She’s harsh but kind to her trainees and will always offer a cup of coffee and a shoulder to cry on, but there’s a time and place for slacking and it’s not on her labour ward. 

Trelawny: talent agent. Our Josiah is cunning, infuriatingly charismatic and with an eye for the best of the best - what else could he do so effortlessly? He’ll wrangle you a 10 second role as a latrine cleaner in a non-profit film and he’ll still make you feel like the next DiCaprio. You’re a diamond, don’t you know? Of course you could nab Elphaba, we’ll worry about the singing later. How do you feel about cat food commercials? No no, it’s not pornography, it really is cat food this time - he double checked. On top of this, he knows everyone in the business. No, really. He can’t move 3 feet down Broadway without someone booming his name. The tone of said boom depends, of course, but who hasn’t been caught with his bottom out in that director’s wife’s en-suite? 

Sean: outdoor activity centre instructor. You mean you can actually get paid to swim in lakes, ride ziplines through the forest and eat roasted marshmallows?! Sean couldn’t believe his ears. But it was true, and he’s living his best life. He may be on his penultimate warning for unruly behaviour, but he knows he could never really get fired. How could they? Everyone loves him. And to his credit, he’s a fantastic instructor, especially with kids. Everything from canoeing to caving, wild swimming to climbing, Sean has mastered it all and he always makes it fun. No one is allowed to feel left out or silly for not being able to do something. Sean has a way of making everyone feel included, even if you can only make it up the first few rungs of the ladder. Hey, that’s still off the ground! He once knew this feller Bill who cried because a moth flew into his face. You’re doing fine. 

Mary-Beth: librarian and YA author. Sweet Mary-Beth, how could she be anywhere else but surrounded by books? She adores her job at her small, local library and is always looking for ways to make it even better. She often gets tangled up in the stories she reads whilst organising shelves, but it’s quiet enough most days that she’s rarely caught. She loves helping people find their books or recommending her favourites. She also runs the toddler storytime groups and a writing club for older kids. Of course, she’s also writing her own books. The first of her ‘Valentine Mysteries’ books made a modest profit and she’s excited to write more about the adventures of Leslie Dupont. 

Karen: actress. Realising that she had a knack for accents and even after an especially successful high school lead role as Roxy Hart, Karen didn’t really acknowledge her would-be passion for acting for a long time. But she used her talents to get herself and her friends into X-rated films, dive bars and successfully pull off dozens of prank calls. It wasn’t until one of her friends was going to an open-call audition for a short film and wanted someone to go with her that Karen had her epithany. She was cast on the spot, much to the dismay of her friend. Since then, she’s been in a handful of arthouse films, a commercial here and there, and recently enjoyed a short run as Hermia in A Midsummer Night’s Dream at a small theatre downtown. Does she want fame and fortune? Honestly, she hasn’t really thought about it. Right now, she’s just enjoying the ride. And the phone numbers left for her at front of house from many admirers. 

Strauss: financial loan adviser. Oh boy, perhaps you saw this one coming. Then again, maybe not. Old Leopold isn’t quite the two-pronged-tongued eldritch horror people often mistake him for. In fact, he actually advises people against loan sharks. He had his fair share of debts y’see and he genuinely doesn’t want anyone else to go through the same thing. He’s not exactly sweet and cuddly, but he might let you have a free pen if you call by his office. I mean, technically they’re not free but...never mind, just take it. 

Bill: plumber. It was purely accidental that Bill bashed his way into his career. No, really. His sink was blocked and after an hour of poking and prodding the pipes he started hitting the poor thing with a spanner out of pure frustration, cursing all the way. To his shock, it worked, and he suddenly had running water again. What shocked him more is that he realised he wanted to know how. So, he bought a book. And he read the book. And one thing led to another, and now he’s the proud owner of Williamson Plumbing Inc. The money is very good, but for Bill that’s not it. You have to understand that for him, it’s the act itself of fixing something that brings Bill immense satisfaction. And Bill isn’t used to knowing more about something - anything - than those around him. For the first time perhaps in his life, he can sit down, solve a problem, and know that he’s done a good job. 

Swanson: AA group leader. After getting completely sober almost a decade ago and staying that way, Orville wanted to give something back to the people who had helped him out so greatly. Becoming a volunteer to help those who were trapped where he was seemed like the only path, and it felt so right. Orville is there in meetings, making coffee, handing out donuts and training new volunteers. If anyone wants to talk about their faith he’s all ears, but he never pushes it as a cure-all in any situation. Orville’s sobriety has also meant that he’s learnt to make the most phenomenal mocktails. 

Pearson: grocery shop manager and cooking teacher. Simon has his small grocery shop on the edge of town which has a wide range of regular customers. But he wanted to do more, so he set up a small class to teach fellow veterans how to cook. His wife helps out, and they grow the ingredients together in their garden and down at the allotment. It’s just an therapeutic for him as it is for his students, as he’s only just realising how much he wants to talk about his time in the navy. 

Uncle: unknown. For the longest time, everyone thought Uncle worked at one of the worst dive bars in town, as whenever they stumbled in for a nightcap he was there, behind the bar, happy as a pig in shit. Turns out that he just started going there one night and no one could get him to leave. And so every evening he’ll appear like a phantom, sit himself in the half-broken chair behind the bar (clearly labelled “not for customer use”), order the cheapest beer on the menu and sit there until midnight. No one can understand how he gets the means to live as he ragingly denies receiving any government handouts despite his lumbago. Claims to be a veteran but hasn’t fought in any wars anyone has heard of. 

[tuffduff]

Companion of My Youth (Izzy Stradlin x Reader)

Pairing: fluffy modern!Izzy x Reader 

Words: 1,413

Request: @thatcrazybandchick94 : “Hey I was wondering if you could do a imagine of present day Izzy and the reader looking back on memories of them being together. Sorry to bug you!!!”

A/N: Thanks for the request, lovely! Okay, literally I’m such a sap for sentimental fluff like this. Like the “Yesterdays” GNR music video could make me cry. Happy hump day, friends! xx

Taglist: @ubernoxa @the--blackdahlia @reigns420 @stradlin-cold-heartbreaker @rumoured-whispers @dustnbones

“Izzy! Babe, it’s almost three!” You called upstairs to your husband and frowned when you didn’t hear a reply; Izzy had disappeared a long while ago to go and grab a pair of shoes. “Babe?” You asked curiously from the door frame of your bedroom.

“In here, Y/N.” You headed towards his voice coming from your walk-in closet and found him sitting on the floor of your closet. There was a half-rusted metal box in front of him open, full of pictures, faded letters, ticket stubs, old flyers of yesteryear...

“Hey, I took that picture!” You grinned, sitting down next to Izzy and reaching for the large picture of him with his old bandmates from Guns N’ Roses.

“Yeah,” he remembered softly, finally taking his eyes off the letter he was reading and giving you a smile. “You liked my nail polish. You wanted me to paint your nails because whenever you did it, it got all over your fingers.” You laughed. To this day, he still painted your nails for you.

“That glam phase didn’t last long for you guys.” You said and Izzy chuckled as he nodded in relief. You smiled at your husband as you watched his eyes inspect the picture. “I had a crush on you for years. The more time that went by and the bigger you guys got, the less of a chance I thought I had.” Izzy raised his eyes to yours, smiling slightly.

“If you had said something sooner, we could’ve saved a lot of wasted time, you know.”

“You were too cool. You made me nervous.” You defended yourself before elbowing him. “You could have said something too!”

“You made me nervous.” Izzy argued, making you laugh. It sounded funny now; it had nearly been 30 years since you had married. Almost three decades. Izzy had now seen you at your best and worst. He was there for every job promotion, every birthday, every small victory. Better yet, he was there to catch every tear, to help you through every setback and illness and heartache. You both had created a life together. How distant it seemed that the mere sight of him had once made you nervous.

“I kept every letter you wrote me while I was on the road, you know. From before we even started dating.” He told you, shuffling over faded envelopes as proof. “I keep more of them in an old shoebox.”

“This was such a long time ago.” You murmured as memories of the Sunset Strip filled your mind. Loud, rowdy and raucous nights that leaked into early mornings, you and Izzy making your way to the apartment you had back then leaning on each other’s shoulders. The way you were always so proud to be seen with him, the way his eyes would seek yours out in every small LA club they played.

“It feels like yesterday, though.” Izzy replied, resting his hand on tops of yours. He smiled down at your hand, and you could practically see the memories flashing in his eyes. “I can remember everything.” If someone had told you back in your youth the life you were about have with Izzy, the happiness, it would have seemed unfathomable.

“Look at those!” You noticed, pointing to a stack of polaroid pictures hidden underneath an old Guns N’ Roses flyer.

“Jackpot.” Izzy grinned as he pulled out the photos. You scooted closer to him, clasping your hands and resting them on his shoulder as you peered down at the pictures with him.

They were precious; you hadn’t seen these in years. A picture snapped of the two of you by Steven the one time you visited them on tour somewhere on the east coast in a little Chinese restaurant. It was a candid; Izzy had his arm over your shoulders and you were laughing at something he had said, your hand against his chest, chopsticks on the table beside your half-eaten meals. You were both practically babies, your face youthful and your hair big, while Izzy’s was jet black from all the times you had helped him dye it. You reached up and ran your fingers through it. Now, it was dusky brown, and he had a few sparse strands of gray.

There were several pictures from your date at the state fair in Indiana. You had brought your camera along and asked strangers throughout the night to take pictures of the two of you.

“You hated taking these; you were embarrassed when I would stop someone and ask if they would take our picture.” You reminded him. There was one of the two of you standing beneath a glowing Ferris wheel, one of the two of you beside the balloon booth where you had popped enough balloons me that you won a teddy bear—Izzy held it for the photo. One where you’re grinning with your funnel cake while Izzy looked down at his critically—his was missing powdered sugar.

“You’re right,” he chuckled at the memory. “Well, I’m glad we took them now.”

The next must have been taken by one of your friends; you were standing in the crowd of an Aerosmith concert, neither of you looking at the camera or at the stage, but at each other. Izzy held your face in his hands and you stared up at him, your hands stuck down the back pockets of his jeans.

“I love this one,” Izzy said, staring at it the longest. “This is what I always felt whenever I’m with you. A crowd of people and it always just feels like it’s me and you. And seeing the way you’re looking at me…” You smiled at him, admiring the creases that had formed by the outer corners of his eyes and the lines beside his mouth—all evidence of the years you had played a part in making him happy. And he was still just as handsome today as 1987.

“Do I still look at you like that?” You asked him, affectionately teasing. He leaned his head back to kiss your cheek.

“Still do, and it still gives me butterflies.” His words gave you butterflies.

There were more memories, more recent ones—your honeymoon traveling the country in an RV, the time the Christmas tree had toppled on top of Izzy, your pumpkin carvings over the years, your vacation to Yosemite. Something with a dull shine caught your eye from the corner of the box and you gasped.

“I forgot all about that,” Izzy said, his eyes following yours as he reached and grabbed the small handmade ring. Izzy had broken a string on one of his guitars and had it made it into a ring as a present for your birthday one year.

“I never took it off.” You remembered as he slid it into your finger again. Somehow, it still fit. “...Until I got pregnant. Speaking of which, it’s almost three. You know your daughter is not going to be a happy camper if she has to stand outside on the curb of that high school a second longer than she has to.” Izzy chuckled—he knew you were right—and quickly gathered up the items in the box once more.

“She’s never seen these. Maybe now she’ll believe me when I try telling her that her dad used to be pretty cool.”

“Don’t kid yourself, babe. There’s a reason she prefers you picking her up over me.” Izzy reached forward and pecked your lips, his hand patting your leg.

“It’s because I let her play whatever music she wants.” Izzy stood, the rusted box tucked under one arm and the other hand reaching down to pull you up off the ground. The idea of going through the pictures with your daughter and telling her stories had you budding with excitement. You looked down at the handmade ring on your finger again.

“Maybe it’s time someone else get some use out of this ring.” You mused. Izzy smiled knowingly; your daughter loved vintage relics and clothes from the past.

“One of my guitar strings made into something you wore for years. A piece of me and you, for her.” He draped his arm around your waist.

“You know she’s probably going to be posting these pictures on her Instagram, right?” You asked. Your husband grimaced a little. “And me too, probably.” He sighed and smiled, shaking his head tenderly as he grabbed his car keys.

“Well…better you two than me.”

[wild-aloof-rebel]

Back in December, I took a pause on doing these round-ups all the way through the end of S6, so I want to go back today and highlight some of the fics I particularly enjoyed during that time period. This isn’t going to be everything I would recommend from that time period because the list would be obnoxiously long, so this is just some of it. (My masterlist is fully up to date and includes everything else that isn’t going to fit in this post.) 

Since I’m doing this list today instead of recs from the first half of June, all those fics will be included in one big June round-up at the end of the month.

1 - 3k words

All-Natural Care, Locally Sourced by Siria (rated T) In which care packages are given and received. Set after 5.11. 

Breakfast Can Wait by schittposting (rated E) Patrick's making pancakes for breakfast. David has other ideas.

A Face Mask by WellSchitt (rated G) “I want to look good for the wedding,” Patrick blurted out, then cringed. “I mean. Uh. I want David to think I look good.” “Ew, Patrick.” He rolled his eyes and plowed ahead. “But I'm not good at stuff like this. I mean, I have a moisturizer now, and conditioner. But I still don't do much, uh, grooming." "No, I know," Alexis said, matter of fact.

i fell in love (next to you) by patrickbrewer *Alexis/Stevie* (rated G) She’s a constant juxtaposition, a clash of bold personality and silky touch. Stevie is so terrifyingly in love with her. 

A Little Twitchy by modern_leper (Not rated) Patrick asks for Stevie's blessing to marry David, and it's only slight less nerve wracking than actually proposing to David 

Salve by agreatwave (rated T) “This is ruining our romantic eye cream ritual,” David mopes. “What, this isn’t romantic?” Patrick teases, moving on to David’s forehead. “It’s kind of romantic, I guess,” David grumbles. “Like as romantic as a rash can get.”

3- 5k words

It’s Coming on Christmas by MadAlien (rated T) David and Patrick choose and decorate their Christmas Tree

Kit Kat Girl Number One by unfolded73 *Twyla/OFC* (rated T) The story of the Schitt's Creek production of Cabaret told from the point-of-view of Kit Kat Girl Number One.

A Little Bit by returntosaturn (rated G) While packing, Alexis finds the DVD copy of her limited reality series, A Little Bit Alexis. A watch party ensues.

Mixtape by sunlightsymphony (rated T) For their second monthiversary, Patrick gives David a mix CD.

Taking Inventory by GCLane (rated T) “Shana tovah,” David remarks, turning off his phone’s screen and looking at Patrick. “I’m sorry? ”“It basically means ‘happy new year,’ except Jews don’t believe in happiness, so it’s really more about goodness? A good year.” “Say it again.”

5 - 10k words

A Case of You by DoubleL27 (rated T) Five times Patrick gives David an utterly ridiculous gift for Valentine's Day and one time David does something really romantic

Given Unsought by odofidi (rated G) When David gets sick, it occurs to Patrick that he's never seen David ill before.

In the Temple of Artemis by MoreHuman *Stevie-centric* (rated T) Of course she’s still in love with him. That part’s not a mystery. She got over it, she’d had to get over it, but no one falls in love with David Rose and falls back out again. Stevie’s pretty sure there’s only one other person who’s ever done it, and she knows he would agree.

Looking for Light on the Floor by nameless_bliss (rated T) After the barbecue, Alexis visits Rose Apothecary.

Odd Man Rush by samwahmbam (rated M) After the game, David intercepted Patrick on Patrick’s way back to the locker room. Stevie snapped photos as Patrick pulled David into a kiss. He held onto his stick in one hand, the wood precariously close to knocking David in the head, and the other pulled David into him by the ass, the glove lost in the blue and white of the jersey David was wearing, the name “BREWER” stamped loud and proud on his back. Or, David is a hockey BF.

one hundred micrograms by thingswithwings (rated E) It’s great; it’s wonderful. It’s great that David’s feeling so much better, just from that tiny pill once a day. But there’s a side effect that makes―that Patrick―there’s a side effect.

Tea-Kettle Love by ArabellaStrange (rated G) Patrick thinks about New York. How do you plan to be unhappy? How can you avoid it?

Time After Time by Sholio (rated T) Stevie and David get married on a whim during a time loop. It would really be a shame if the loop ended at that point, wouldn't it?

10k+ words

All The Roads We Have To Walk by MeadowHarvest (rated T) "I wonder what would've happened if we'd met in high school?" Patrick Brewer is ready to conquer the summer of 1999 at Camp Cedar Glade. He's in for a surprise, though, in the form of one David Rose.

All the Songs I Sing Are About You by missgeevious (rated E) “Does that mean you’re open to entertaining my offer?” And David can’t help himself, he leers at Patrick just a little bit when he says it. Patrick blushes and laughs, “Okay, David. Let’s write a song together.” Inspired by the movie Music & Lyrics.

The Best Man by barelypink (rated T) David is the best man at Patrick and Rachel's wedding.

A Fabrication of Appeal by saekokato (rated T) David was gifted a vacation from Wendy as part of his separation package. Patrick was going on the honeymoon-that-wasn't on Rachel's insistence. Neither of them knew what a little harmless flirting at the airport would lead to, but vacations were for adventures, right? It had nothing to do with the free upgrades or how attractive their 'husband' happened to be. Right? Right.

He Sees You by Distractivate (rated E) Patrick gets glasses and thinks about identity. David helps.

if not for you by goingmywaydoll (rated T) On a Wednesday he breaks up with Rachel. The next Tuesday, he leaves on a road trip with David.

maybe if by magic by earlylight (rated T) Some people bring in consultants to help get their new business off the ground. David Rose, entirely by accident (or so he claims) gets a fairy.

Pot o’ Gold by ahurston (rated E) The love story of a leprechaun and the guy who bought his magic rings. 

Romantically In Business by sullymygoodname (rated E) Starting something new, something you've never done before, can be daunting. It helps to find the right partner.

sustineo by rockinhamburger (rated E) An alternate universe where David is a famous, reclusive modern contemporary artist and Patrick is the art critic who is interviewing him about his new exhibition.

they paved paradise by blueink3 (rated T) Patrick wakes up five years in the past. He reacts accordingly.

Une très bonne table dans sa catégorie by cromarty (rated T) Patrick is a Michelin Guide reviewer and David is a Toronto chef hoping for the first Michelin star awarded in Canada.

wait for a slow song by wardo_wedidit (rated E) David and Patrick break up, learn to be business partners, date other people, learn to be friends, grow up, and get back together.

We Could Turn the World to Gold by middyblue (rated T) Nine weeks of following Patrick's c25k running app, picking up from where the Season 5 finale left off.

[fragmentedink-archived]

Hell to Pay: Part Forty-Six

I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV, XV, XVI, IX, IX, XX, XXI, XXII, XXIII, XIV, XV, XVI, XVII, XVIII, XVIIII, XXX, XXXI, XXXII, XXXIII, XXXIV, XXXV, XXXVI, XXXVII, XXXVIII, XXXIX, XL, XLI, XLII, XLIII, XLIV, XLV

cowritten by @lux-scriptum

A/N: trigger warnings for mentions of miscarriages

The pool had been exactly what Lev expected. Big, sleek, modern. Two diving boards, which Lev hadn't expected, one medium height and one close to the water, down at the deep end. Lev had curled up in one of the chairs and watched Nik sit on the edge of the pool, dangling his feet in the water.

Lev ate without complaint, even though he was back to broth. Being in the sun was nice. He meant to keep watching, but in the end he fell asleep. Someone had carried him to bed, which Lev didn't mind one bit.

When he woke up, though, he was sweating. Even just the little stirring of Lev waking had Nik waking up as well. Lev's head spun slightly, so he closed his eyes again and burrowed close to Nik, mumbling softly.

A hand ran through his hair. "You okay?" Nik asked. "You feel warm."

Lev shook his head. "I feel-" He considered that and then just ended lamely, "Off."

Nik sat up. "D'you want me to go get Ash?"

Lev considered that too. "Probably a good idea," he finally mumbled, not even opening his eyes.

Nik left, and Lev decided he would just wait, shifting uncomfortably. He felt hot. And cold. And just- wrong.

Lev rolled over as best he could when he heard Nik come back, Ash and Cameron both in tow. He stared at Ash as the angel checked him over. Eventually, Ash asked him, "Do you know what day it is?"

Lev blinked. "No one told me," he finally said, rubbing his face.

"Do you know who the current ruler of Liwen is?"

"Bay," Lev said after a pause.

Ash eyed him, and then, "How long did you have to think about that?"

"A little bit," Lev admitted. "I'm used to saying Mikel."

Ash squinted. "Fair enough. How do you feel? Is it hard to breathe?"

"Like crap," Lev muttered. "I just ache, and I'm too warm- and too cold."

"You should have let the heat take its course, in its entirety," Ash said irritably. "Your body is trying to right itself the best it can, whether you want it to or not."

Lev looked down guiltily. "Does that mean another heat?" he asked in a small voice. "And- do I need- do I need sex to make it work? I- we haven't talked about that. Any of us."

Ash wrinkled his nose. "Sexual intimacy is not an automatic requirement for heats. Intimacy comes in all forms, Lev. I'd have thought you'd understand this by now." He stopped; pinched the bridge of his nose. "No. You just need to let this run its course. You just need your mates' contact and closeness and to stop denying yourself what you need."

After thinking about that, Lev nodded, not even questioning Ash's inclusion of Cameron. "Okay," he agreed easily. At some point during this conversation, Nik had crawled in bed with him. Lev rolled over into him without thinking, sighing.

"Maybe next time you'll stop being so boneheaded and listen to me," Ash said.

Lev nodded against Nik's chest. Nik's arms went around Lev without hesitation. He didn't have to look up to know it was Cameron's hand in his hair.

"I'm assuming you're staying until his fever breaks," Cameron asked Ash, still stroking Lev's hair.

Ash must have said something, but Lev was too tired to care.

---

Amara shuffled back and forth on Cameron's porch. She'd already been to Ash's house, and Celeste had sent her here. Just seeing the pregnant healer had made Amara feel even more self conscious about her request.

She fled before Celeste could ask her why she wanted Ash. It wasn't that she didn't trust the witch. It was just that it was bad enough telling Ash she needed help, to tell someone she didn't know very well just was too much for her pride.

Before she could decide, the door swung open. "If you're going to sulk, come do it inside. I'm working on dinner," was all Cameron said.

Amara followed him without dispute. He wasn't wrong; she'd been sulking. Ash was waiting for them, though he narrowed his eyes, which were still glowing an eerie green, the moment he saw her. How he still had the magic to see was beyond her.

"Lev's not able to see anyone right now," Ash warned.

"I'm not here to see Lev. I'm here to see you." She stepped closer, and then went still.

Ash lifted a brow, giving a silent, well?

"I need your help," Amara finally said.

Ash gave her a sharp laugh. "Oh that is rich," he said. "First you and every single damned person I know go ahead and break nature after I beg you to not perform necromancy, and now you want a favor. Well, Amara," Ash said. "Seeing as how I am busy making sure Lev doesn't die again, why don't you go ahead and take a number and get back to me when I'm a little less busy trying to save your cousin. How about that?"

Amara opened and closed her mouth. He had a point. She'd put him through a lot, knew the damage it'd done to his body. The fact that he still had the magic to see, and heal, was amazing. She looked away.

"Ash, I..."

"No," he said, rubbing his temples. "What do you want? You clearly need me for some reason and I'd rather minimize whatever damage I can before you try to do something on your own and make it all the more worse. It is my job."

She lifted her chin stubbornly. "Cin and I have been trying for months to have a child," she admitted. "I- even before we were trying, I couldn't carry to term, but at the time it didn't seem to matter. I didn't want kids then." She pursed her lips. "I can wait, Lev's more important, but- I didn't know who else to ask."

Ash lifted a single, scrutinizing brow and clicked his fingers along the kitchen counter. "And why now?" he asked. "If you are trying to use a child to curb your impulses I swear it will be the last thing you do."

That stung, but- it was valid. She didn't have a response to that. "You don't have to help me," she said defensively, dodging his question. "I just figured you were the best person to ask." He was. He was the best, the safest course of action. And he was her friend, even if they both needled each other to the point of near cruelty.

"I am the best person to ask, but you didn't answer my question."

Amara could have drug it out, but Cameron didn't seem pleased. Not that he ever did, but- "I don't know," she finally admitted, defeated. "But plenty of people have had kids just because they were careless. I'm- I want this. I fucking moved."

Ash lifted a brow. "You moved?"

"I let Cin buy a house," Amara muttered. "We weren't going to raise a kid in that apartment."

"Congratulations on making one good move without help."

Amara grimaced. "If the answer is no, Ash, just say it. I'll figure something else out."

"What, you're allowed to torment me, but I'm not allowed to torment you?" Ash asked dryly.

To Amara's embarrassment, she could hear Cameron give a small snort.

"That's exactly what I'm saying," Amara snapped, before wincing. Putting two assholes with short tempers in a room was ill advised on a good day.

"Well, suck it up," he said. "If you want my help you're going to have to suffer a bit."

"Listen, I'm not asking for free. I'll pay you for your help, Ash."

Ash waved her off. "I don't want your blood money," Ash replied. "I have my own."

"I have my trust fund, if you don't want my money. I've not touched it. Ever."

"If you want my help, you're going to work for it."

"Asshole," Amara bit out, but- she'd expected that. And deserved it, if she was being honest. "What do you want?"

Ash gave a little smile. "Let me think about it."

Amara threw her hands in the air. Even if she did expect it. "Fine." She might have gone on, but- "You said Lev can't see me. Is he alright?"

"He's sick," Ash said with a sigh.

There wasn't even an ounce of accusation here, but Amara felt guilty anyway. "Is he going to be okay?"

"We'll see," Ash said tiredly. "His fever just started. His body is trying to go through another heat without actually going through it."

Amara closed her eyes briefly. "Okay," she said softly.

"Are you prepared for what will happen if this goes south?" Ash asked pointedly.

She stared at him for a very long time. Eventually, she said, "As long as I can say goodbye- I'll figure it out. But he's not going to die." She set her jaw stubbornly. "He'll be fine."

"And I will do anything in my power to make sure he will be. We're in uncharted waters; nothing is certain."

"I know," Amara said, looking away.

"Sit down," Cameron said, setting two plates down. "Eat."

Amara flopped down with a huff. "Thanks," she muttered. After a few bites, she added, "With moving, it's been mostly take out for a few days."

"Do you need leftovers?" Cameron asked.

Amara paused, fork halfway to her mouth. "I-" In for a penny, in for a pound. At this point her pride was already more than smarting. "Yeah. If you have some to spare."

Cameron nodded, and started reaching for tupperware.

"You can eat first, you know," Amara muttered.

Cameron ignored her, so she just turned back to her food, picking at it.

"I'll do everything I can to help Lev," Ash said, startling Amara.

"I know," she said, blinking a few times. "I trust you."

Ash watched her for a long moment, reading her carefully. "You know I didn't tell you no," he said. "I'll help you, I was just being a dick, which, you kind of deserved. I'll just need some time, especially with Lev sick and you being. You. But we'll figure it out."

Amara rubbed the back of her neck. "I know," she repeated quietly. "It's just been a long few months. I trust you." She went back to eating pointedly.

Ash poked at his food as well. "Don't I know it," he muttered.

---

A day and a half later, Cameron was still doing damage control and nothing seemed to be going well either. Nik was on edge and not leaving the bedroom unless Cameron forced him out and even then it hadn't lasted long.

Lev's fever only grew; the sheets and blankets damp with sweat to the point of needing changed every few hours as well. Cameron was in the process of bringing Lev broth when he heard Lev's voice from the bedroom.

Considering he knew Nik was currently sulking out by the pool, and Ash was in the kitchen, it suggested that Lev was talking to himself- or hallucinating, more likely. He turned back to get Ash and then pushed the door open.

Lev was still on his side, looking up at nothing through his damp locks. "I missed you," he mumbled. "Where have you been?"

Ash slid Cameron a concerned look before moving over to Lev's side. He pressed his hands to Lev's face and looked him over. "He's burning up," he muttered, more to himself than anything.

Cameron put the food on the desk and watched at the footboard in silence.

"I'm sorry you're alone," Lev said.

Cameron wasn't sure if he wanted the answer to whomever it was that Lev thought he was talking to. Perhaps it was high fever that manifested someone from Lev's past, or someone he just thought he knew. Delusions left no good answers.

"I always worry, Darius," Lev said, with hints of sadness to his soft voice.

Cameron was startled enough that he blinked. "Excuse me?" he asked, without thinking.

Ash looked at him, a little surprised. "You know who he's talking to?"

Cameron opened and closed his mouth, and then promptly walked out of the room. The iciness under his skin was momentarily forgotten when he nearly ran into Nik, who stopped short and frowned at him. "You look like you've seen a ghost. You okay?"

"Go see Lev," he bit out. "He's hallucinating."

Cameron didn't give Nik a chance to respond to him before shouldering past him and going to lock himself in his office. He stopped short at the doors and looked at the nearest sentry. "I am only to be disturbed for an emergency or if it's Ash about Lev or Nik's conditions. Anything or anyone else, toss them on their asses. If you do not comply, your job will be terminated effective immediately."

The sentry nodded stiffly and it was answer enough before Cameron disappeared inside his office. He had the tumblers locked in place when he crumpled into a corner of the couch as a fox.

---

Nik bolted towards the bedroom the moment Cameron was out of his sight. Something was bothering the alpha but he wasn't currently sick with a high enough fever to be hallucinating, which made Lev priority.

Ash looked up when Nik appeared in the doorway, already ready to give orders. "I need to regulate his temperature."

"What can I do?"

Ash hesitated only slightly. "I want to get him in a bath. Are you able to be in the tub with him? I know-"

Despite the stiffness in his spine, Nik cut him off. "It'll be fine," he said, already unbuttoning his pants. "I'll do whatever you need me to do."

Ash looked to Lev, and carefully tugged on his hair. "We're putting you in the bath, okay? Need to break your fever and lower your body temperature."

Lev looked through Ash, maybe to the hallucination Cameron was talking about? He gave a small "Okay."

Ash hooked Lev's arm around his neck and hoisted him up, following Nik into the large bathroom. Nik had started the water while Ash watched Nik hesitate. He looked up. "Do I need to take everything off, too?"

Ash looked him in the eye. "Take what you want off. You don't need to get undressed if you don't want to. It's your body."

"But-"

"But nothing," Ash said, sharply. "Decide now. We need to get Lev's temp down."

He felt the blood drain from his face, but he shut up and dressed down minus the shirt. He got into the tub, only seconds before Ash put Lev in his arms. It didn't take much of Lev's listless touching for Nik to get the hint. His arms carefully wrapped around them once Nik got settled enough Lev wasn't completely on top of him. He pressed a kiss to Lev's shoulder. "Don't worry we're gonna make everything okay."

He wasn't sure who, exactly, he was trying to comfort, but Lev looked up at him all the same. "Nik?"

Nik tried for a smile, even if he knew it was falling horribly flat. "Hey Princess. Talking to anyone interesting?"

"Just Darius."

"Oh?" Nik asked, having zero clue who the hell Darius was. "And is Darius more interesting than me?"

"No," Lev said, looking down. "But I left him alone, like I left you alone. And that's not fair."

"...oh."

What the fuck was he supposed to say to that.

"I'm sorry," Nik said, tiredly.

Wordlessly, Ash went about pouring cool water on the both of them. Nik was far less happy about it, though he didn't whine.

"I'm sorry too," Lev whispered. "I shouldn't have left."

He didn't know which 'left' Lev meant, and he was too afraid of asking.

----

Cin hated to leave Amara alone, but Ash had asked him to come, and after what Amara had gone to talk to him about, he wasn't gonna say no. He realized how much it'd taken for Amara to come, and he was proud of her. As prickly and bitchy as she was, she was making progress in just being a better person

Probably, anyway.

He didn't bother knocking on the door, and instead went about tracking Ash down. The angel had been around often enough lately he could remember his scent.

The office he found was quite fancy. Ash looked over at Cin, eyes glowing green with magic. Cin had always found it a bit eerie, but he just waved curiously at Ash.

"You wanted to talk to me?"

Ash gestured to the chair beside him and said, "Have a seat."

Cin flopped down gracelessly. "Seated."

Ash leaned back and flung an arm across the back of the leather chair with irritable elegance. After thrumming his long fingers along the desk, Ash finally said, "I am assuming you know that Amara has come to see me, and I am assuming you're aware she wants a kid?"

Cin nodded. "She's wanted it for a while," he admitted easily. "Before the Lev fiasco. But we were talking about it. It's how I managed to talk her out of living in that awful apartment. Though I think, to an extent, that it's empty nest omega instincts, just a little. I just don't mind. I'm thousands of years old. No reason not to settle down."

Ash seemed to consider that. "You realize," he said, "if I agree to help her, there will be caveats. I will help if I suspect there be toxicity or instability in your home. No kid deserves that. " he paused. "No offense meant. I guess."

"That's fair," Cin replied. "I wouldn't agree to have a child if I didn't think we could handle it. And as much as Amara hates to accept help, I'm sure my brother, her sister, and Levant will all be lending a hand at some point or another." He considered Ash. "Is that what you wanted to tell me? That you want us to be sure we're healthy enough and ready to have a child before you'll agree?"

"Something like that," Ash said, wryly. He watched him silently, before, "Is there anything that I need to know? Like maybe why she would come to me now?"

"Oh, she miscarried last week," Cin explained. "And that's not the first time, both intentional pregnancies and not." He looked down. "She doesn't want your help out of pity. But I didn't realize she hadn't told you yet."

"I am aware Amara doesn't do pity," Ash said, face drawn. "But this might complicate things a bit." Ash pulled out a notebook and scribbled something on a piece of paper, handwriting barely legible. "I'll have to ask her some more questions." He looked up at Cin. "Is there anything else I need to know?"

"Not that I know of," Cin said after a pause. "I don't know if the miscarriages are a- a genetic thing, or an old injury. She's plenty scarred, everywhere, but- again, I don't know, and I don't think she does either." He paused again. "I know she's asking now, but I don't think she's ready right away. And I don't think she expects your help right away. She'd rather Lev live if you can ensure that."

"I can't ensure anything," Ash said, sounding pained. "I can only offer my help and my best. I'll do everything I can for Lev and i'll help Amara. I don't plan on doing anything right away. Especially if she just miscarried and has a tumultuous history of pregnancies already. Her entire lifestyle is going to have to change. I cannot in good conscious help if she keeps going the way she is."

Cin gave a little proud smile. "She's working on it. The last job she took was for Destris. Letting me buy her a house was a big step, I think." He leaned back. "But we're working on the rest."

Ash's little smile came back. "Then I guess she needs a job, then doesn't she." He leaned back. "I mean, I'm joking. Mostly. Though I am glad she's not, you know. Killing people for a living. Not exactly conducive for a healthy home life. But what would I know. My parents were executed and I was raised by a glorified mass murderer. At least she has that going for her, I guess."

Cin watched him for a long moment. "We'll do our best. She doesn't want her kids to have the same childhood she did. Her parents died doing the same job she has. Tu killed my parents, but then again- that's complicated in it's own right." Perhaps that was a bit too blunt, but... "I don't want us to be like either of our parents. And she doesn't either. We'll be better."

Ash stared Cin down. "I'll hold you to that."

Cin shrugged. "Okay," he replied easily.

---

They had managed to bring Lev's fever down enough he wasn't hallucinating, though that small success did little for the anxiety clawing at Nik's insides. Still they also managed to get Cameron out of his study, at the very least so he could make Lev chicken soup. If only so he didn't kill Nik for cooking in his precious kitchen.

Ash ended up pulling Nik to the side once Cameron came in with food. "You haven't been eating," he accused.

"Excuse me," Nik said. "How would you even know that. You can't even see."

Ash's face hardened to the point Nik almost winced. Right. That was probably unwise to say to one of the two people with an anal need to mother him. Ash grabbed his arm and yanked him unnecessarily close. "You are pregnant," he hissed. "You need to fucking eat."

Nik flashed a quick glimpse at Cameron across the room, but his focus seemed to be fixed on feeding Lev. He let out a sharp sigh and glared at Ash, and shoved him. Hard. "You are not my damn mother, Ash. Keep your opinions to yourself."

He wasn't sure if he were surprised or not by Ash grabbing his ear with lightning quick reflexes and dragging him the rest of the way out of the room. He pushed Nik to the wall, but he did it with such calculated carefulness that it only made Nik more annoyed. "It is not a damn opinion, and considering you are pregnant and Lev is sick and Cameron is being Cameron but squared, I have half the mind to force you to come home witn me where I can keep you under my roof with me twenty-four seven so I can make sure you-"

"Okay!" Nik snapped. "Stars, you micromanaging dickhead. I get it. I've been a little busy. I didn't just go 'hey, I'm growing this weird thing so I'm just going to starve it out. In case you hadn't noticed, my boyfriend was hallucinating and my other boyfriend is being a nutcase, but hey, I'm the problem, right?"

Ash's finger dug into his chest. "Currently? Yes. Because I happen to care about you the most, but you are also the biggest suicidal, neurotic mess I have the misfortune of knowing during a good day. I just want to make sure you're taken care of because I will not have a repeat of breaking your ribs because you decided to go off the deep end again." Ash's voice dropped. "You scared the living hell out of me. Don't make me find you like that again."

Tears of anger and regret and shame burned in Nik's eyes. He rubbed them away with the palm of his hands. "It wasn't like I did it on purpose," Nik said, trying to keep his voice from breaking. "And I didn't not eat on purpose. I've been a little busy."

"Just. Be careful," Ash said, stepping back. "I'll help if you want. But you need to take care of yourself."

"Yeah, okay," Nik sniffled, under his breath. "Fine. Are we done now?"

"Yes." Ash sighed.

And on that fantastic note, Nik slipped past him and went to crawl into bed up behind Lev. He pressed a kiss to Lev's heated shoulder and snuggled up against him and closed his eyes. He could feel Lev reaching out for Cameron. "I can't find Darius," Lev was saying. "Will you find him for me?" Cameron's hesitancy was palpable. "Please," Lev said. "I can't find him."

Cameron sighed. "I will see what I can do."

---

Cameron found his way back to the witch's house in the woods when Lev and Nik went down for their nap. It wasn't long after Cameron giving Lev his word that the fever broke and some kind of clarity coming back to Lev's eyes. He didn't think too much about that.

He didn't bother knocking on the witch's front door and walked right in, heading back to where he figured Cyrus would be. The bedroom.

The demon appeared from the kitchen. "What are you doing here? He's sleeping." When Cameron kept walking, he added, "The spell he did for you wiped him out."

Cameron, once again, ignoring the demon's commentary, kept walking back to the bedroom. Cyrus managed to be roused by the bedroom door opening. He was clearly trying to be polite when he said, "Can I help you?"

"Lev asked for someone," Cameron said, shoving his hands into his pockets. "How much would it be to perform that spell one last time?"

Tagging: @incandescent-creativity @idreamonpaper @lil-mis-red @ @solangelo3088 @halstudies @littleyellowdinosaur @caelisis

[etn-story-archive]

Enter the Nomicon - Chapter 16: Dream a Little Dream of Me

.

It was almost dreamlike, unreal and light, like he would fly away into the endless abyss of the night. The entirety of the sensation seemed strangely familiar, yet he was unable to place it. The only true sign of the reality he was in came from what he saw and what he felt all around him.

The nightly air was thick and laced with a heaviness that rested at his chest. There were brief intervals of gentle breezes that carefully combed through shaggy, disheveled hair. Sadly, the airy waves did little to truly alleviate the foreboding sense of suffocation. Still, Randy appreciated the small comfort the breeze provided. It helped to calm his shot nerves, allowing him to think about more pressing matters at hand. Especially the ones that pertained to his current situation; Randall Cunningham was dead, or at least that was what he thought. But how else could he explain all of this--where he was, and the lack of remembrance as to how he got there?

Randy took a conscious step forward, before stopping to carefully eye his surroundings for, what he could only guess, was the uptenth time in the past several minutes. He was standing in the heart of what appeared to be a large village that practically screamed ‘ancient Japan’ with its charming and regal architecture. The large community itself appeared to be heavily inspired by Little Norrisville, but even then, Little Norrisville held a stronger sense of modernity compared to here, wherever that may be; it certainly wasn't from his time.

This had left Randy utterly confused, because how could he be somewhere other than his own time, and not remember how he has gotten there? 

Maybe he really was dead.

Regardless, none of this coincided with Randy's memories of the day.

The young ninja continued to march on, having no other idea of what else he should do.

Admittedly, some parts of Randy's memories were choppy, but there was just enough to paint a clear enough picture in his mind.

He remembered Nomi and himself charging headfirst into a sea of monster students and freeing them from the Sorceress's influence, before they had found themselves being confronted by the Sorceress and Mac Antfee. He could still feel the deathly grip of Mac's hand on his throat; the man had come dangerously close to ending Randy's life, and then just like that, he had been torn away from Randy. A nightmarish form of his teacher had seemingly come from thin air, and like some scaly, runaway freight train, bulldozed Mac away. It had not only saved him from dying right then and there, but it had also lead to the brutal end of Nomi's former student.

At that point, Randy was on the verge of passing out, but had forced all of his strength in keeping himself awake long enough to calm Nomi back down to his human form. The redheaded teacher had immediately scooped Randy up, clutching the teen close to his chest as he fell into hysterics, being reduced to a sobbing mess.

Nomi had felt so warm and safe, despite the fact that he had just murdered someone, and Randy could taste the words of a confession on the tip of his tongue.  Yet now, it was tasteless and lost in his mind. He could, however, feel a sense of regret, as if he had failed to let slip what he had wanted to say to Nomi.

Darkness had overcome him, but at some point he had become conscious again for a brief few seconds. Randy had found himself laying on a gurney inside a speeding ambulance, and Howard had been there, right beside him, screaming frantically into Randy's ears. However, the amethyst haired teen had been too dazed and confused to fully comprehend a single thing that Howard had said. Then he blacked out again.

Finally, the last time he had awoken, had been when he found himself in the midst of the ancient Japanese village, basking underneath the light of the starry sky and cradled by moonlight.

Once again the question entered his mind, "Where am I?” 

There was no answer to his question, or at least not yet, he thought, correcting himself. Seeing as he wouldn't find answers on his own, he decided to focus on walking forward. As he studied his surroundings for any clues of his whereabouts, Randy silently hoped that he would be able to find someone with answers.

Unfortunately, that didn't seem possible, as he noted the lack of light coming from any of the buildings. It was safe to assume that the village occupants were sound asleep. Well, apparently except for one.

In the far off distance, Randy's blue eyes spotted a small, humble home atop a lone, grassy field. The little home seemed less luxurious compared to the other buildings and was surrounded by Japanese maples, a trail of lanterns led up to the front steps of the home. It was almost like something out of a videogame to Randy, and it was silently calling to him, begging him to come closer.

Randy could hardly register his feet moving towards the little home, until he was standing at its wooden door. Hesitantly, he raised a fist and, went to knock, but instead of his fist coming to contact with the door, his whole arm phased through it. His eyes began to widen. 

The first thing that came to his mind was the dream Randy had had a few weeks back, back when he had first met Nomi.

“I’m dreaming?”

Randy could barely hide the shock and surprise from his voice; he wasn’t dead, afterall.

Tentatively, he stepped all the way through the door. A soft gasp escaped him, a strange sensation running through his body as he slipped through the door.

What he found inside was something he certainly had not expected to see.

A teen, perhaps around his age, sat at the very center of the room in a meditative position, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. The male bore light brown hair that was pulled into a high ponytail. A dirty,  torn shroud rested over his shoulders, and underneath the shroud, the teen wore a traditional Japanese outfit, which mainly consisted of red, white and black. However, what really shocked Randy was what sat right in front of the teen: the Nomicon.

Randy stared wordlessly as the brunette teen opened his eyes, revealing eyes the same color as his hair. 

He spoke in Japanese, yet Randy was able to understand his every word, as if he had spoken in English.

“Dear teacher, I may not know of your origins, nor do I fully understand your motives. I do, however, understand our common goal to rid this world of the Sorcerer. He killed my brothers, of whom helped defend our home to their dying breaths. I will do my part in doing the same, though I cannot do it alone. Will you teach me?”

The Nomicon seemed pleased with the boy’s answer, emitting a low buzzing hum.

The teen smiled and suddenly stood up, stretching his limbs, before picking up Nomi. The brunette left the room in silence.

At that, Randy snapped out of the awestruck stupor he had been in, and hastily followed after the two.

The whole world seemed to shift, and Randy had not noticed it, until he stepped into the room the teen had left to. There was only a single light source in the room, which came from a small lantern that sat idly on a wooden desk. Its owner, an old man, was quietly sitting beside said desk, with the Nomicon laying in front of him. He held a sad, tired expression as he spoke in a soft whisper.

"My time as the Ninja of the Norisu Village has long since been over, and peace has been since then achieved. I have completed my mission, old friend, and I believe it is soon time for you to choose another who must carry on the duty to protect our home. I am weak, ill; my time is quickly coming nearer.”

The Nomicon didn’t respond at first, but then red smoke seeped through his pages, and Nomi Conikos Norisu suddenly appeared. He sat on the edge of the desk, eyes red and puffy with large tears. 

Randy was shocked to see his teacher so torn apart, and he had to refrain from going over to Nomi’s side to try to comfort him. The action would be in vain, of course. He was nothing more than a ghost here.

Nomi spoke, his voice shaky.

”I-I know, but I cannot abandon a friend. You have dedicated your whole life to carry on the duty, a burden, that I could not. You sought no wives. You bore no children. You have given up the chance to live a long, prosperous life. The least that I may do is spare the time for you until you pass.”

The old man chuckled softly.

"I am simply astounded by your sentimentalism. The tough and stern teacher, showing emotions? Shock! Has hell itself frozen over?!”

Randy half expected Nomi to be somewhat offended by the old man’s words, but instead was met by a snorting laugh. 

“Or perhaps, my student has finally given me a reason to show emotion?”

The old man let out a resounding laugh, knowing full well that it was physically impossible to outwit and out sass his teacher.

Randy sensed this, and he found himself grinning. The forlorn mood in the room seemed to lift, and he quietly watched as the old man and Nomi hugged each other tightly. The amethyst haired teen shuddered. An odd sensation danced up his spine, like an icy hand, a gasp leaving his lips. 

The room then seemed to warp, and he found himself standing outside, right before the little house. However, everything seemed different. 

The comfy little home had become somewhat run-down. It was daylight, but deep, dark clouds hid away the sun. The air was chilling to the bone, and the entire atmosphere felt listless and depressing. Randy was standing beside Nomi, whose face was full of grievance. In his hands, Nomi clutched an elegant sword, its blade covered by a dark red sheath. The magical being wordlessly unsheath the katana, displaying a dark blade. Kanji symbols were eloquently inscribed on both handle and blade, which seemed to bear the semblance of the words ‘Goodbye, my friend.’

Nomi paused, before he suddenly plunged the great weapon into the earth. He clutched the handle tightly, hands shaking. Softly, the red haired ninja murmured out the words,

"You were a grand ninja, though you were an even greater friend.”

Nomi sat on his haunches and stared up at the home with a deep fondness, tears were beginning to form in his eyes, when another figure came to join him. A cowboy-hatted man carefully rested a hand on his back.

"Ya know, it is time for us to go.”

His voice held a thick southern accent.

Nomi simply nodded. The two glanced at the house once more, before taking their leave. It was not until the little house was a tiny speck in the distance that Nomi suddenly crumbled to the ground, onto his hands and knees. Loud, body wracking sobs left his lips, and his voice was hoarse as he shouted and screamed, cursing the unfairness of his life, because why him? He didn’t want to keep living in this miserable loop of existence, when all he could feel was pain and endless suffering.

“WHY ME!? I CAN’T DO THIS ANYMORE! I CAN’T! I DON’T WANT TO BE IMMORTAL ANYMORE!”

Randy rushed immediately at Nomi’s side, and he wrapped his arms around the sobbing teen into a loose hug. Any tighter, and he would simply phase through Nomi.

Even if Nomi could not feel any of this, it still brought Randy some comfort for himself. He buried a part of his face into Nomi’s back, tears beginning to form in his blue eyes.

The cowboy-hatted man noticed Nomi’s state, and instantly made his way towards the sobbing teen. He calmly lowered himself to Nomi’s level, and began to utter words of comfort. 

“It’ll be okay…”

Randy peered over to the man, and furrowed his brows. The man’s words were slowly starting to slur, becoming more and more indecipherable. Suddenly, Nomi and the cowboy seemed far away, and the world was beginning to disappear and fade into a void of emptiness. 

Randy began to panic. He ran, and tried to return back to Nomi, but the more he tried, the more far away they seemed until the dark swallowed them and himself whole.

…..

Nomi was thankful that Gene had given him the t-shirt and basketball shorts; it was unbelievably hot. Up until now, the days had been cool and wet thanks to the previous rains, but now the summer’s simmering heat had come back with a vengeful bite. However, there seemed to be only one down side to Nomi’s current apparel. The clothes did absolutely nothing to protect his arms and legs from the small thorns of the bush he was currently sitting in.

A pair of footsteps caught Nomi’s attention, but then they just as quickly faded off. Poking his head out of the bushes, Nomi was relieved to find that it wasn’t a doctor, just a regular person finishing up a smoke. The scent of the cigarette lingered in the air for a moment, eventually snuffing out.

It had taken Nomi nearly half an hour to get to the hospital, the only delays being caused by himself. He was still unsure if he was truly prepared to see his student, unsure if the teen was even alive. If he was, Randy would more than likely be in a less than good state of being.

It was after having taken another detour, this time through a park, that Nomi finally made his way to the hospital. He made sure to avoid any entrances, and stayed just beyond the hospital camera's line of sight. He also made it a point to stray away from any hospital personnel, such as the nurse who had spotted him earlier, and took to the side of the hospital. Then, Nomi had made a beeline for a nearby bush, the one he was now hiding in.

Nomi looked around to make sure there weren’t any other passerbyers, and after a moment of preparation, began scaling the hospital wall. He soon reached a window that was just a few levels above the ground. It seemed that no one had bothered to lock it, and it was never opened at any times, making the window a bit finicky. It took some fidgeting before Nomi was able to pry it open, and he wasted no time diving inside. 

Nomi landed onto vinyl flooring in silence. Shooting a brief glance in the almost pitch black storage room, it seemed that no one else but Nomi was here. 

Good. That made this all the more easier.

On a metal shelving rack, there was an old janitor’s jacket, a pair of musty looking pants and boots, and a black flipback hat. Nomi graciously took the items and slipped them on. Unsurprisingly, most of the clothes were far too big and baggy. Even the hat seemed to be a size too big, covering a portion of Nomi’s face. But he didn’t mind.

He sipped out of the dark room. Nobody seemed to notice or question him. More than likely, everyone was too busy to take a good look and see a kid wearing some old janitor outfit. Thanking every and any deity in existence that the disguise had worked, Nomi wordlessly made his way to one of the many help centers.

“Excuse me, I seem to have gotten very lost on my way to see a friend. His name is Randy Cunningham, do you know where his room is?”

The receptionist looked up from the computer and was a little startled by Nomi’s somewhat sudden appearance.

 “Oh! Well of course! Just give me one second.”

Turning back to the computer beside him, he instantly began typing with incredible speed and accuracy. He turned back to Nomi with a slight smile.

"Randy Cunningham is two levels above us, room 503.” 

Nomi nodded, muttering a soft,"thank you,” and was about to leave, when the receptionist called out to him.

“Wait, are you an unaccompanied minor?”

If the situation wasn’t so dire, Nomi would have laughed at the question; he was no average minor.

“Yes, I am.”

The man hummed, then turned his back to Nomi and began digging around his desk.

"Dahlia on the first floor should’ve given you one, really any of the other receptionists,” he seemed to find what he was looking for and placed it atop the desk as he continued. "Oh well, I guess they must’ve had their hands full. The recent monster attack at school left quite a number of people injured, thankfully no fatalities as far as I heard.”

Nomi thanked the male as he took the item (a sticker that labeled Nomi a minor) off of the receptionist’s desk. His chest swelled with absolute relief that no one else had died, and that Randy was clearly alive.

With that, Nomi bid the receptionist good bye, and ran towards the nearest elevator in sight. He nearly broke the elevator’s button, and was even tempted to ditch the elevator. It was going far too slow for Nomi’s tastes. 

After a mere few seconds passed, he was most seriously considering his alternative plan, when there was a soft ding, signifying that the elevator had reached his floor. He stepped inside quickly.

The doors had barely opened and Nomi shouldered past, ignoring any eyes on him. Nomi simply didn’t care anymore. He hadn’t even noticed that he had zoomed past a disgruntled and exhausted Ms. Cunningham.

It wasn’t until Nomi spotted the room that he slowed down.

The anxiety and guilt from before almost instantaneously resurfaced, and Nomi seemed hesitant to venture further inside. 

Was it too late to turn around? 

“Yes, yes it is.”

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes as he stepped inside the hospital room. As Nomi reopened his eyes, he wasn’t all too surprised by the somewhat ordinary setup of the room. The walls were a sterile white, the air in the room stale, and the soft steady beeping of a heart monitor. The only thing that seem to stand in complete contrast to the room was the teen lying in the hospital bed. Randy.

Nomi’s heart nearly jolted out of his chest as he took in the state of his student. Bandages were dotted all over Randy’s face, some were even wrapped around the amethyst haired teen’s throat. There were wires and tubings all connected to Randy. From an arterial line to an endotracheal tube which went through Randy’s nose, allowing the teen to breath. It seemed that Mac Antfee had done more damage to Randy’s throat than what had been expected.

Edging closer to Randy’s bedside, Nomi was thankful to find that Randy was asleep, just as he had hoped back when he was at Gene’s. Running a hand through Randy’s hair, a sad smile gently graced his lips. 

Without much thought, Nomi leaned down and pressed his lips against Randy’s forehead, and pulled away. As much as he wanted to savor this moment, Nomi was pressed for time. He already wasted a good deal of time working up the nerve to even come here in the first place. 

Now he needed to hunt down the Sorceress, before she did anything with the mask. 

Sighing, the redhead slipped away from his student, only pausing at the nearby window to look over at Randy once more. He hesitated, before finally forcing himself to leave.

What Nomi didn’t see was that his student’s eyes flickering open, wide and full of fear.

[concussed-to-pieces]

Devotion

Fandom: WWE

Pairing: Drew McIntyre/Named OFC

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Heard through the grapevine that my boy Drew might have done the Lord’s work recently. In honor of that momentous occasion, I dusted off what was originally meant to be part of @hardcorewwetrash ’s Summer Writing Challenge (because, you see, I am a terrible person and never managed to get my act together for that, I KNOW YOU’RE SHOCKED). So now for Valentine’s Day you get old gods, boardroom meetings, wilderness excursions and past life reminiscing. Basically, my brand. 

Enjoy!

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: For mild ’breeding kink’, graphic violence and death. Stay safe!]

[!WARNING!: Rife with historical inaccuracies. This also may be considered religiously offensive, for which I apologize and advise you to proceed with caution.]

.........

The devotion was what caught his attention in the beginning.

Truly, the fact that he had solidified on 'he' in the first place spoke volumes. Take one of the faithful. Always prodding at him, making him toss his head in dismissive annoyance. Take one of the faithful. 

The incense was lit in the chapel for yet another vigil, another plea. He tasted iron when he appeared, the atmosphere thick and stifling with the whine of the fair-weather faithful hoping for their fortunes to improve. Godhood was barely above a burden and the Higher in the pantheon well knew his grievances. 

He was Actaeon, ruler of forests and wilderness, his domain stretching from proud mountain peaks to secret moors that man had yet to tread. It fell on him often to mediate in this modern age, where the incense was few and far and boardroom meetings broke untold hours. Greedy men overreached again and again, hand over fist in a mad dash to their own demise.

He had settled on the name Drew McIntyre, and through it all Drew sat. Certainly, he had traded the gilded pauldrons and breastplate for a razor sharp suit, but his story was lauded as a cautionary tale and little about him looked tamed despite that. His piercing blue eyes still glowed when his irritation reached a boiling point, his mouth set in a grim line that was about as hospitable as a kodiak's roar.

I will give you nothing, said those cold eyes, and it will be far more than you deserve. 

Hunter, the man who had once been known as Hades, was at the head of most conference tables. Always clad in some kind of glamour that hid his true form, flanked by his loyal Persephone Stephanie and Cerberus split into three bodies. 

Back and forth they went, Actaeon halting progress and Hades or Zeus or Dionysus or whoever demanding more from him. More land, more resources, more more more. Drew took sadistic pleasure in entangling the god-moguls and their flunkies in red tape, dangling fertile rainforests in front of their noses only to snatch them away due to easily-overlooked technicalities.

After the Fyre festival fiasco at least Dionysus (calling himself Dolph these past few centuries, who knew what the next would hold) was humbled, twiddling his thumbs and staying relatively quiet during meetings. Drew got the feeling that it boded ill though, since it meant that the reveler was actually listening. Possibly. Cerberus, or rather, the three men that Cerberus had become, always confiscated all cell phones before their meetings commenced, so Dolph (and anyone else for that matter) had no distractions.

Whenever Zeus was involved, the shouting matches kicked off quickly. At Hunter's behest he grudgingly went by the name Vince, though even after all the years he still sometimes failed to respond to it. He was not nearly as powerful as he once was, of course, no one believed like they used to, and he clung to the old ways while Hunter struggled to reason with him. All the eldest god wanted to do since he and Hera had become estranged was lift weights and watch professional wrestling; it was a miracle that he even made appearances anymore. 

…

The ruler of Hell always put Drew up at the same damn hotel chain every time he managed to drag the belligerent patron into their meetings. Hunter didn't lack devotion. His contract with old man Vince involved such incredibly far-flung stipulations that for all intents and purposes, every exchange of goods in human hands netted him some percentage of adoration. Hades operated by the philosophy that 'absolute power corrupts absolutely, but slightly less than absolute couldn't hurt, could it?' 

The chain of hotels was one of those oxymoronic minimalist-yet-decadent types, decorated sparsely with furniture that boasted too many sharp edges. Drew always felt uncomfortable and he was certain that was the intention. Hades was all about subtle threats. 

You're on my turf, wild god. Better remember that.

Drew was on a first-name basis with most of the concierge staff in every location he frequented, accepting his room key with a roll of his eyes and some tired comment about how he was back in town for business. 

Running into an animal not in the lobby was...unprecedented. 

He stared down at the cat. The cat stared back up at him, licking her chops while she lounged in the middle of the hallway. Her muzzle was speckled with the remains of whatever she had eaten last and Drew immediately extended a hand for inspection. 

He wasn't as well-respected amongst the more domestic animals and the cat took her sweet time meandering towards his fingers. Once she reached them though, she was all purrs and apologies. Lost, she hummed, her whiskers tickling his arm. Help me?

"Where's your keeper, little miss?" Drew asked in a gentle voice that most humans hadn't had the privilege of hearing. 

The cat offered him a look that was a shrug, shaking her body to jangle the tag on her harness pointedly. 

Drew chuckled, picking her up and cradling her in the crook of one arm. "We will do our best then, won't we?"

…

They didn't wait in the lobby for very long. Fifteen minutes maybe, Drew sprawled indolently in a chair that wasn't quite large enough for him. The cat purred away in his lap, happily kneading and getting white needle-like hairs all over his expensive suit pants. Not that Drew cared, he'd sooner rip the whole damn suit off and saunter back to the wilds where he belonged. 

Patience, Actaeon, he reminded himself with a heavy sigh. A few more days in this brimstone nightmare.

One of Aphrodite's own appeared before him looking attractively distraught and his breath hitched, sending the large man into an embarrassing coughing fit. The woman gestured at the cat in his lap and Drew hurried to stand, floundering with the slumbering feline. "Ah, I had no idea that-" He began, somewhat confused that she didn't seem to recognize him.

"Thank you so much for finding her!" The woman said fervently, grasping his hand.

Drew received no supernatural warmth from her touch, just mortal worship so heartfelt it hit him square in the chest. She wasn't one of Aphrodite's? How could someone so beautiful simply...exist? Surely, there must be some mistake. What was this feeling of deja vu that threatened to overwhelm him?

"She was no trouble." Drew assured, "Came right up to me when I got out of the elevator. I'm Drew, by the way. Drew McIntyre." He raised an eyebrow pointedly. 

No realization of his true identity seemed to be forthcoming, the vision in front of him introducing herself in turn as Lyssa. The name alone sent another jolt through him, much to his chagrin. Her smile was like the sun and Drew wondered if she was possibly one of Apollo's creations. Apollo had no real touch for beauty, though. Hephaestus? 

"Can I get you a drink or something? I'm only in town for a conference, so I'm a little booked as far as breakfast would go." She sounded self-conscious, fidgeting with the cat's fur instead of making eye contact. 

"How about dinner?" Drew asked, startling himself with the ease of his own suggestion. "Maybe tomorrow night, depending on when you fly out of here?"

He needed to talk to Aphrodite. Immediately. 

…

Alicia took one look at him and tried to shut the door in his face. Drew barely caught the edge with his hand, giving her a smile that bordered on a sneer. "You've improved your craft, love." His tone was half impressed, half dangerous. "Setting one of your beauties on me? One who doesn't even know who I am?"

"You've got some real nerve coming here at this hour." Aphrodite muttered, the flawless woman clutching at her silk bathrobe. 

"It is noon, woman."

"Never mind that, what the hell are you talking about?"

Drew shoved his phone in her face, startled when she immediately looked (of all things) jealous. "I'm talking about this one. She's got a cat. And she's been crafted by you."

"She's not one of mine. Hera above, I wish I could take credit for that." The goddess replied crossly. "As far as I can tell she's the real deal." Drew was speechless and Alicia seemed to realize, a smirk turning her mouth up at the edges. "You're infatuated, aren't you?"

"No." Drew said firmly. 

"Mm, you're really going to lie to me about matters of the heart?" Aphrodite crooned. "It's been millennia since your little incident with Artemis. Still sensitive? I would have thought you'd forget."

"I was torn apart by my own dogs. Sensitive doesn't begin to cover it." Drew fidgeted with his phone, closing out the Instagram page. "I dinnae what to do." He admitted.

"Take her out, knock her up, tell her the truth or don't, and welcome another litter of demigods into the human world." Alicia said in a deadpan tone. "You really are so boring sometimes. It's no wonder you're the one who always gets your memory stripped, you're practically mortal levels of boring."

"I…" Drew hesitated.

Aphrodite softened, her sharp contours glowing ever so slightly in the dim hallway lighting. "You deserve adoration just like the rest of us, Actaeon. I know you've basically appointed yourself as nature's protector and as such have decided to distance yourself from humanity's praise, but humans need gods like you. Ones who don't play games with them." She said gently.

"If I do this, she...Aphrodite, mortals are so…"

"I know, they are short-lived. It's better to take your happiness where you can find it though. Don't live a lie, Drew." Alicia tapped her fingers to her lips and then pressed the kiss to his cheek. "For luck and nothing more. I know you wouldn't want my help anyways." Her laughter was a merry sound, bright even in its falsehood. 

…

It's better to take your happiness where you can find it.

The goddess of love's words haunted Drew while he prepared for this little...appointment  with Lyssa. 

Don't live a lie.

Was that what he was doing by shutting everything out? The whole debacle with Artemis, while indeed millennia past, still turned his stomach. His own fine hunting dogs tearing him apart would never leave his long memory, regardless of how many times Zeus humbled him and cast him to Earth with no recollection of who he was. Was he hiding? Was he really so afraid that something like that would happen again? He had traded his mutts in with his pauldrons, but he still occasionally felt echoes of their presence. As though he could turn around at any second and see them all eagerly awaiting his orders.

Drew huffed at himself, squaring his shoulders while he retied his tie and struggled with his top button. He wondered vaguely whether it would still be so difficult if he had picked a more feminine-presenting form as opposed to masculine, though he liked the form he had settled upon. Perhaps a bit too much. The broadness of his shoulders could be a little...difficult to fit into the dress shirts he was made to wear, so the battle of buttons was a familiar one. But that same broadness emphasized his physique and catered to his not-insubstantial pride. He had lasted this long, and what was the point of even having a form if you weren't content with how it appeared?

His reflection studied him from the mirror, blue eyes clouded with rumination on his past. His neck strained at the highest button with every swallow and so finally Drew sighed and left the offending button undone, carefully slipping his tie out of his collar after a moment of thought. Better to seem casual than tightly-laced. 

…

"So, to business, if this is something you want to pursue." Lyssa folded her hands. "I'm not looking for anything serious at the moment. If you're married or romantically involved, I'm not interested. I can't afford to be pulled into a pissing match, not with my career at stake.  That clear enough?"

"Crystal." Drew chuckled, appreciating her plain speech. "Games like that don't yield fruitful results. I'd rather be trusted." 

"Well my cat trusted you, so that's a step in the right direction." She smiled at him and Drew nearly choked on his drink. "You already have my number and I have yours from the cat debacle. What's your schedule look like?"

"I am free this evening, if you have the time. When does your flight leave tomorrow?"

"It's an eleven o'clock. I'm already packed, so I guess tonight will work fine." Lyssa sounded for all the world like she was planning a meeting. 

"Come with me?" Drew requested, rising from the table and offering his arm. She took it without hesitation or shyness, strolling to the elevator with him. "I understand the anonymity of this setup may be what you find most appealing. Rest assured, you will hear no questions from me unless you wish them asked." Drew deliberately kept his tone light. 

"I appreciate that." 

His own rising apprehension aside, Drew did his best to relax. It would do him no good to display the tension he felt. It was better to keep this as businesslike as possible, for his own comfort as well as hers. If they continued on in this manner, maybe he would learn why he felt like she was so damned familiar.

...

It was always attached somehow. He had never really noticed it before Lyssa, but now it gnawed at him. He wondered whether this hunger was why Aphrodite had been so glib about him spawning a litter. Did she know? Did she put the fire there to begin with? 

He knew he was being irrational. Aphrodite couldn't come close to his control, time beyond time having passed since the carefree days of his youth. Actaeon had failed, but Drew McIntyre would not. This arrangement didn't have to sour with reproductive ruminations. It didn't have to, but…

There was no harm in fantasizing about it. The desire to take Lyssa's unwitting worship and make it something...real.

She had, of course, been very up front with him. She was on medication, he would use protection, it was all standard procedure as they were both responsible adults. There was a relatively low risk involved and honestly Drew wasn't particularly keen on raising a brood in the first place, just being involved in the creative process. The notion excited him much more than it should have: the idea of coupling with her, breeding even, until she was overflowing. Being a god, it was far from an impossible task. Drew wasn't ashamed to admit he could behave more like an animal than a man, this fallible flesh doing him in time and again. At least she could keep up with him when it came to sexual appetite.

She would text him occasionally even if they hadn't planned on meeting up. Hell, even if they weren't in the same state. Just little snippets or questions about his day, maybe a picture of her cat.  Drew found himself slipping into the habit of checking his phone regularly, coming to learn that she frequently went hiking when she wasn't involved in business. She claimed to love the woods more than anyone and the God of the Forests had to suppress a roaring laugh at her declaration.

Not even Zeus himself could have rid Drew of his grin when Lyssa casually mentioned that she wouldn't mind some company on her next camping trip. He had been having a terrible day, but that message lifted his spirits instantaneously. He pondered at that for a split second, somewhat confused. Since when had he become so attached?

"Is that a smile?" Dionysus queried from across the boardroom, his eyes wide over the Greek salad he had ordered for the lunch break. "It is! What happened to brighten you up, Doomsday?" Dolph practically bounced around the table to plant himself in the currently-unoccupied seat beside Drew, batting his eyelashes at the large man. "Aw c'mon, you were so chipper a second ago!" The blond whined.

"I have a migrating headache." Drew said dryly. "It comes and goes. Seems t' increase whenever you're around." 

The reveler's response was an ear-to-ear grin and he leaned forward to rest his chin in his hand. "Do tell." He purred. Roman (the largest portion of Cerberus) looked up curiously, as if he sensed the shift in the atmosphere of the room.

"No." Drew snapped, already inches from wringing Dionysus' neck. "Whatever I'm pleased about has nothing to do with ye an' yours. Dinnae try my patience." 

"Psh, ever since Artemis you've been so-" Dolph didn't even get to finish his sentence before Drew was towering over him. 

"Actaeon." Hades' glare was smouldering at the edges. "Not in the conference room. You know the rules."

"Easy now, boys." Vince chimed in, clapping his son in law on the shoulder. "We don't want anything getting out of hand, do we?" Outside, the clear sky rumbled threateningly. 

Hunter sighed in annoyance. "Old man, you know you can't do that shit anymore. It upsets their meteorologists."

"I am Zeus! Why the hell should I give a crap about their silly weather men?"

"Enough. And you, Actaeon-"

"Dionysus never takes me up on my offers." Drew's teeth were bared in an infuriated grin. To his right, Alicia clicked her tongue as if to voice her disapproval.

"Whoa, whoa! I'm more of a lover anyhow, you know that!" Dolph looked wildly uncomfortable, like he had just realized that maybe pissing off a person who stood head and shoulders above him was a bad idea. 

Actaeon exhaled hard, forcing himself to take a step back from the situation. "Later." He said finally, entertained by how Dolph's face paled beneath his fake tan. 

…

"I needed this more than words can express." Drew breathed, his hands carding through her hair in an oddly affectionate way. Well, oddly affectionate when he considered the position they were in. Lyssa's nose pressed to his pelvis, throat flexing around his cock, every swallow making Drew grunt or snarl. "You are too good at this." 

He knew he had to keep his voice down. They might have parked the rental a good distance away from other vehicles, but it would do them no good if a passerby noticed her face in his lap. Drew half-groaned at the idea of being interrupted, feeling her tongue bathing the base of his cock as best as she could. 

"I'm close Lys, can I…" He trailed off, gritting his teeth when she pulled off his cock and started stroking his shaft with her hand. She rested the engorged head of his dick on her tongue, maintaining eye contact as she did. Drew had to remove his hands from her hair, one gripping his thigh and the other clenched into a fist so tight his knuckles ached. "I'm coming, love, I-" He choked his words off as best as he could, trying to stay silent. 

Drew was not a particularly quiet individual, especially during lascivious activities. He liked to think it was part of his charm, the blunt and brazen honesty of his own failable flesh. Lyssa certainly seemed to appreciate it, if the way she squeezed his thigh while she swallowed down his release was any indication. 

He went boneless in the driver's seat, panting a little. She rested her cheek on his thigh, smiling up at him in a manner that was wholly self-satisfied. Drew chuckled, running his fingers through her hair one more time. "How is it possible to enjoy you as much as I do?"

"You're just easy to please." Lyssa teased, giving him a soft bite on the inside of his thigh before beginning to straighten herself out. 

Drew followed suit and then stepped out of the small car, stretching his arms overhead with a drawn out hum. A deep inhale filled his lungs with the fresh forest air and he sighed happily. Nothing better than that smell. 

Her forehead bumped between his shoulder blades and she stayed there for a good minute, her arms around his waist. Drew felt something stir in his body, satisfaction, contentment and he cleared his throat, resting his hands over her own on his stomach. "Thank ye for invitin' me. I promise it'll be worth it." He murmured. 

"Mm, I'll hold you to that." 

After collecting their backpacks from the trunk, the two of them set out down one of the many trails. Not that Drew particularly needed a trail, but he knew that bushwhacking on their first outing into his domain might set her on edge. 

He let her lead the way and they made quiet conversation as they hiked, Drew keeping an ear out all the while for any nearby beasts. She seemed entranced at the way the birds drew close to them, a hummingbird boldly zipping back and forth in front of her nose at one point. 

Drew laughed at the obvious plea for attention, extending a finger to the tiny creature. "Feisty today, aren't we?" He asked softly once it had landed. "You eat well enough with all the feeders around." 

The bird voiced its grievances with hummingbird feeders, much to Acaeteon's amusement. In the meantime his hiking companion shrugged out of her backpack and shuffled closer, her eyes fixated on the complaining bundle of feathers. "How did you do that?" She whispered.

Drew tilted his head. "They come to me." He replied nonchalantly. "This one wants me to grow him more red flowers. I am no miracle worker, little one."

"Oh sure, yeah. He's talking to you. I'll bet." Lyssa gave him a smirk. 

"How else do you think I got your cat back to you so simply?" Drew asked, raising an eyebrow. "She is a headstrong beast."

"Well so am I, but here we are."

"True enough." Drew shooed the bird off and sidled up to embrace her from behind. A teasing finger toyed with the fabric of her t-shirt across her chest, making her laugh quietly and tap his hand away. "Not nearly stubborn enough to resist me." Drew continued, his voice low and gravelly while he pressed close and palmed her breasts. 

Lyssa gasped, her eyes darting back and forth as if worried that someone might see them in this predicament. "Drew-" Her indignant hiss of his name tapered off into something a little less stern than she probably would have liked. Her nipples woke under his circling assault, pressing hard against Drew's questing thumbs.

"What's wrong, Lys? You've gone quiet." Drew whispered raggedly, "Did you see something? A beasty, come to devour you whole?" His left hand slunk past the waistband of her hiking shorts, questing blindly downward for what he sought.

"You're not being fair, you got off in the car." Lyssa protested, her voice cracking slightly. "Don't tease me, Drew-"

"I'm no tease Lys, I intend t' deliver on any threats I make." Acaeteon mouthed at her ear and reveled in the way that she went pliant against his body. Her worship was sweeter than all the praise of humanity, her trust in him explicit and heady. "With just my fingers, lovin'? The first of many, we'll say." Drew promised.

"I'd love to see you try."

Drew's strong fingers tweaked one of her nipples at the same time that his other hand found sanctuary in her underwear. "Naughty girl." Lyssa sighed and writhed back into him, blissfully ignoring that they were still very much out in the open. "I love how quickly you change your tune when you want somethin'." Drew chuckled, fingers stroking and then spreading her slick folds open. 

When Acaeteon took on a task he deemed important, he poured himself into it wholeheartedly. Not many things outside of his interactions with Lyssa really warranted that level of commitment. 

"Lys." He breathed while she choked on her breath and shuddered through an orgasm. "You are not making this easy on me."

"I asked you to come with me for a reason, Drew." She panted when she could talk again, whimpering quietly after he withdrew his fingers and licked them clean.

Drew kissed her fiercely, tongue licking into her mouth to give her a taste of herself. "And what reason might that be?" He asked once they had parted again.

Lyssa stared up at him in a daze for a good few seconds before snapping out of it. "What? Oh! Oh God. Um, later. I'll tell you later. Look, we still have a long way to go!" She floundered, struggling to get back into her pack. Drew rolled his eyes but remained silent, choosing instead to help her put herself to rights and buckle her straps.

...

The campsite she had picked was conspicuously secluded, which Drew made a mental note of. Lyssa seemed excessively nervous for someone that Drew had already been intimate with, the young woman getting their tent poles mixed up several times despite her familiarity with said tent. 

"You seem tense, Lys." Drew teased once she had finally gotten everything squared away. "I hope I didn't wind you up too much."

"Drew, I…" Lyssa trailed off, sighing. "I want to ask you for something. And I'm sorry if you think it's weird or...like, if I make you uncomfortable. I promise I would never want to make you uncomfortable."

Drew raised an eyebrow. This sounded more serious than he had anticipated. "Speak your mind, love. Whatever it is, I'm sure I can handle it."

Lyssa looked so pensive that Drew was legitimately concerned, the smaller woman taking her time to settle into a chair beside the fire pit. They hadn't lit the fire yet as the summer weather was warm even in the evenings, but Drew had made certain to find a small amount of dry firewood for safety's sake. "This is super dumb and if you want we can just forget it." She announced firmly. 

Drew couldn't help but laugh, doing his best to mask the anxiety gnawing at his gut. "I think I'll be the judge of that, love. What's this turrible question of yours?"

"I kind of...I mean I've...look." She exhaled and glared up at him with a strange ferocity. Drew's pulse quickened at the intensity of her eyes. He felt like he was being appraised, but also, strangely, like he had done this all before. "I've got this...thing that I like."

"Ye. Bit difficult t' miss, love." Drew grinned and she buried her face in her hands, groaning loudly until he apologized and promised not to make any more jokes about his thing she liked. 

"This is hard to talk about so please, just let me talk." Lyssa said sternly. "This isn't something I've told anyone else and I've never acted on my...urges...before." 

Urges. Actaeon's mind raced. Mortals had very few urges that they catered to, what on earth could she be talking about?

"I've always had this...kind of...thing for. Um. Someone having multiple orgasms. I-In me." Lyssa had actually closed her eyes to say it, her knuckles white with the grip she had on her trekking pole. "Like sloppy, barebacking I guess? Breeding? I dunno. I've seen some stuff and I feel like I'd want to try it out, but I've never met anyone that I trusted like that u-until you of course and I really didn't want to get gangbanged so like it's really cool that you can do multiples, your stamina is insane-" 

She carried on rambling as what she said rang in his ears. Breeding. Drew was upright before he realized, stalking across their campsite with a certain, single-minded intent. "Lys." He said hoarsely, kneeling in between her legs. She kept her eyes closed, like she could ignore him somehow. Her face was all red and Drew wanted to laugh, to ease her worries and make light of this, but he couldn't find the ability. "I will do whatever you need me to, lovin'." He murmured. "If it's breedin' you want, it's breedin' you'll get."

Lyssa peeked at him. "What, seriously? J-Just like that? You don't think I'm fucked up for wanting something so weird?" Her faith in him was like warm sunlight after winter. 

"I wish ye'd told me sooner, truthfully." Drew admitted, "could have saved a bit of trouble for the both of us." He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. "How much preparin' do you want?"

"Pre...Preparing?" 

"Ye. Do y' want to eat? It'll be a long night. "

"I-I mean we already ate lunch--" 

"That we did." She was adorably flustered about this whole thing. "What will you say when you want me to stop, love?"

"I'll say...um, I'll say." Lyssa glanced around. "Tent?" She suggested.

"It has to be somethin' you'll remember. If you'll remember that an' use it, absolutely." Lyssa nodded jerkily and Drew exhaled hard, rising to stand once more. "Alright." He muttered, stripping off his shirt. "Up."

"Up?" Lyssa squeaked.

"Ye." Drew lifted her from the chair, her legs instinctively wrapping around his hips. The large man buried his face in her neck, littering the sensitive skin with kisses and chuckling as Lyssa squirmed in his arms. Her little gasps spurred him on and he fought with the drawstring of her shorts, settling for lacing his fingers at the small of her back to support her while she struggled to undo them herself. 

"Drew, you gotta' put me down-" Lyssa began. 

"This is takin' too long." Drew interrupted, itching to rip the shorts clean off. He sulkily dropped into a crouch, letting her stand so she could actually slide the shorts off and save them from the terrible fate he had planned. "Underwear too, come on."

"So impatient! Guess I should be happy I'm not the only weirdo around." Lyssa teased breathlessly, obliging him with the underwear.

"Bra. Unless you want it ripped."

"Don't you dare."

"I will. Get it gone, love."

Lyssa grumbled, "fine, but I'm leaving my shirt on. Last thing I need is someone coming across us totally naked."

Drew was relatively certain that he was sliding into an Old God headspace, his mind running wild with the idea of reveling naked in public like Dionysus. In the meantime, Lyssa put her hands on a nearby tree trunk and just looked back at him as if to ask what he was waiting for. Drew growled a little louder than he meant to, the telltale sheen of slick on her inner thighs more than enough to stir his blood. 

"I will fill you until I'm empty." The wild god assured softly, fingers dragging through her hair. "Until I am entirely spent. Over and over until your hunger is satisfied."

"You sure do make a lot of nice promises." She replied faintly, arching her back. 

"I'm going to breed you, love." He warned. 

"I certainly hope so?"

"Excellen'." Drew unzipped his jeans and freed his cock, loving the way she shivered. "To business. You remember what ye say if y' need me to stop?"

"Y-Yeah, yeah, tent." Lyssa nodded.

"Very good." Drew slid his cock along her entrance, the heat of her taking his breath away. She was already soaked, ready for him, and he permitted himself a momentary loss of self control. Drew kicked her legs a little further apart, roughly shoved his hands up underneath her shirt to cup her breasts, and then sheathed himself in one steady motion.

Lyssa panted out his name as he started to move, the wild god feeling her worship wash over him. It had never been like this before. There was always the catch, the desire to be granted something in exchange for their meager adoration. But here, now, in the sanctuary of the wilderness, Lyssa gave freely of herself to him out of sheer faith that he would be able to fulfill her.

It was intoxicating, heady and rich like his first breath of mountain air atop Sgùrr Alasdair. Drew inhaled sharply and proceeded with his task. He had promised to breed her, and so he would. 

"Lys," he murmured as he sank onto his haunches and took her with him, settling her into his lap more firmly. "I will need you as close to me as possible, love. Don't want to waste a drop."

Lyssa barely managed another nod as his hand wrapped around her throat to hold her steady, her own hands grasping hungrily at his still-clothed thighs. Drew rocked his hips up against her, jolting her entire body with every thrust. His other hand yanked her shirt up over her breasts, baring her to the world. He was enjoying this, he realized dimly, this salacious act stoking something long dead in him back to life. 

His first orgasm struck at the same moment as hers, Actaeon grinning fiercely at the way she arched and crooned to him. But he ached for more. She had asked to be bred and Drew would oblige.

"I want you to grind against me until I paint your insides again." Drew snarled, his shoulders taut. "We will sire demigods, lovely and terrible as the sun."

"You say such nice things it's not even fair-" Lyssa protested, making him laugh breathlessly. His release trickled down his shaft, further slicking her needy body. Lyssa's moaning rang in his ears and Drew bit down softly on her shoulder, laving the spot with his tongue afterwards. 

He would give her exactly what she had asked for. Until he was spent. Until he gave out. In the face of such freely-given worship, what else could he offer?

...

The dream bled in slowly, firelight the first thing she noticed...

"Lady Lyssa?" The voice of Sir Drew roused Lyssa from her musings and she looked up from the fire. The large knight was studying her, his curiosity bordering on impertinence. "Pardon me, Lady Lyssa, but yer hem is smoking."

Lyssa squeaked and frantically floundered back a pace from the small fire. Digging her fingers into the dirt beside her, she smudged out the lazily-smoldering lace on her skirt's hemline. "Thank you, Sir Drew." She sighed sadly, holding the now-ruined lace up to the light of the fire. "Just one more thing I've lost, I suppose."

Drew bowed. "I am n' longer a knight in your father's employ, m'lady. I have nae such title." His rich brogue washed over her, giving her the peculiar feeling of being warmed from the inside out. 

"You're leagues more of a knight than that scum my father was willing to sell me off to." Lyssa huffed in aggravation, hugging herself for warmth. "You're still Sir Drew to me."

"Your kindness is, as always, a beacon of light in dark times." 

"I'm not being kind, I'm being honest." She muttered. 

Drew fidgeted with the penannular brooch on his shoulder, sliding the ring to loose the needle and unwrap the thick folds of his tartan. In a few moments, the heavy woolen garment was draped over Lyssa like a shawl. "There's no need for you to be close 'noigh to the fire that y' hem is burnin'." He said gruffly, now clad more plainly in his armor alone. "I can't have you catchin' your death."

Lyssa buried her nose in the tartan, the durable fabric worn soft in patches from years of use. "Thank you, Sir Drew."

"I am sworn to keep y' safe to the best of my ability, Lady Lyssa." He puttered around the fire, snapping a few branches over his knee to feed the small blaze. "The chill from the moors can get into a man's bones. God-fearing country it might be, but I wager that there may be older gods roamin' these lands at night." Drew mused quietly, almost as if he was talking to himself.

Lyssa pursed her lips and clutched the tartan a little tighter. 

Drew seemed to notice her discomfort, turning to offer her a quick grin. "Afeared of the dark, m'lady?" 

"Not of the dark, but what's in it. And you saying unsettling things like that is hardly helping." 

"You've naught to worry about while I'm here, Lady Lyssa. I'm much more fearsome than whatever ye could think up." The knight assured her, his eyes unnaturally blue even in the golden light of the fire. 

Far off, a wild creature howled. Lyssa tried not to jump, she really did, but there was no hiding her flinch.

"It's just a wolf, Lady Lyssa. They'll stay away from the fire." Drew soothed, one large gauntlet hovering above her shoulder. She found herself wishing that just once, the knight would drop his polished veneer and hold her.

"I'm sorry, Sir Drew. It has been...these are trying times. I don't mean to be so fragile." Lyssa mumbled, shame catching her words in her throat.

"It is nae easy feat t' leave hearth and home behind. There is no need t' apologize." Drew assured her. "I only hope we can get y' safely t' the coast."

"I have no doubt of that with you at my side, Sir Drew." 

"I must confess, I am a bit concerned about what y' father and betrothed will do to me once yer safely away, m'lady." Drew placed his hand over his heart. "But my own fears are naught in the face of yer peril, and so they will be laid to rest in as timely a manner as I can manage when yer safe." 

"Drew, do not say such terrible things!" Lyssa protested. "As if you would not be accompanying me!"

"Yer father took me in when I was but a lost stripling wanderin' the moors, Lady Lyssa. He gave me a purpose, a goal. I cannae easily forget that." Drew murmured. "Not even for you."

Dismay gripped Lyssa's throat like an iron claw. "Surely after all these years of faithful service, you've earned a moment of selfishness?" She felt at that moment as if she would have made a deal with the Devil himself to keep her devoted knight by her side.

"Aye, true enough that might be." The blue-eyed man allowed, a rueful smile touching his mouth. "But one often leads to another, as the sayin' goes. I'm loathe t' leave ye all the same."

"Is what I want not part of your plans either, Drew?"

"Lady-"

"It's bad enough to be treated as if I am being unreasonable for not wishing to be auctioned off with the summer home as an attractive virginal decor piece, but to have you spouting such ridiculous platitudes is-!" Lyssa sputtered furiously, her words failing her in her rage. Drew merely sat there in silence while she stomped her feet. "It's outrageous to assume that I could get far on my own. I've barely ventured off the estate since my father acquired his lairdship."

"Are y' sayin' ye would go willingly to that mon, trot yerself off t' market?" Drew challenged, "If I wasnae here, ye'd lay down for some elderly laird to further yer sire's plans?"

"Never." Lyssa barely suppressed a horrified shudder at the notion of sharing her wedding bed with the repulsive man her father had chosen for her. Drew's blunt, honest way of speaking had her all flushed in the face. "I don't know what I would have done. Perhaps I would have died." 

An ugly oath left Drew's lips at her flippant words, the large man muttering an apology for his rough language. "'Fraid I'm showin' my hand a bit, Lady Lyssa. Y' shouldnae say such turrible things." 

"Would you miss me, Sir Drew?" She teased, the laughter leaving her tone when she saw the way he was looking at her. 

"Like the moon misses the moors, Lady Lyssa." Drew had never been one to use flowery terms, so this unexpected foray into almost poetic territory left her a bit breathless. 

Lyssa clutched the tartan, his tartan, even closer. "It is rude to jest so, Sir Drew."

"I am not a jesting mon, Lady Lyssa." Drew's eyes had softened. Normally they were sharp and calculating; the knight took his duties very seriously and it was rare to see him at ease. Not that he was particularly lax at this moment. His sword was still belted to his hip, though he had left his claymore on the ground beside the fire.

"I know. I am grateful for that, Sir Drew." 

He leaned in closer, improperly close, and yet she felt no need to scold him. He often wore his long brown hair braided while he rode to keep it from impeding his vision, but a few enchanting strands had managed to work themselves free during their hurried flight from her father's estate. They gave him an air of dangerous sensuality, the unfamiliar sight of him even slightly unkempt enough to send Lyssa's imagination running wild. 

"I would miss you more than I can articulate." Drew sounded sincere, his voice dipping slightly. "The idea of...the idea of you sufferin' under someone y' do not love and didnae even choose, it is." He paused, obviously searching for the right word. "Intolerable." His burr rolled the word thick, sending an indulgent shiver down Lyssa's spine. "I am naught but a lowly mon who's broken his vows of service t' yer household, Lady Lyssa. But I swear on my life that you shall be free as a bird from this," He gestured vaguely, "nightmare y' been trapped in."

Lyssa rested against his shoulder, the firm press of his armor cool on her burning cheek. "Sir Drew, you are no longer in service to my father. You agree, yes?"

"Aye. Much as it pains me, I've betrayed my master." Drew sighed. 

"And I am fleeing from my title, my lands, everything I once held dear, yes?" Lyssa's grip on the plaid whitened her knuckles. Drew's reply was a slow nod, the knight's brow furrowed in confusion. "I would very much like to do something then. As one soul to another, without the concerns of titles or birthrights getting in the way." Quickly, Lyssa leaned upwards and pressed her lips to his slack mouth. 

Drew started, grabbing her arm to prevent her from retreating after her unwisely bold choice. Lyssa was certain her cheeks were even rosier than before, squirming under the intensity of the look he was giving her. "Y' can flee from yer title an' lands, but I willnae let ye flee from me." Drew murmured finally, cupping her face. "Why would ye torment me so, Lady Lyssa?"

"Just Lyssa, my dear Drew." Lyssa took a deep breath, "I can think of no other way to convince you to stay with me. I have no dowry now, no land, no-" Drew kissed her roughly, the fondness in his expression when he pulled back catching Lyssa even more off guard than the kiss. "Drew, I…" She swallowed hard, nerves twisting her words into a tight little ball. 

"The kiss wasnae t' yer likin'?"

"No! No no, the kiss was perfect. I'm all out of sorts." Lyssa confessed, "I had not realized that you, er, reciprocated my feelings. That should make what I'm about to ask of you a little simpler, but…oh dear, I had not thought out how I would do this."

"I will do my best t' aid ye however y' need, my lovely Lyssa." Drew replied firmly.

"I'm certain you will, and from what I've heard this is not a particularly unpleasant task. F-For someone like you, anyway!" Lyssa felt like she was drowning. "Drew, I would implore you to grant me this one request. I will never ask for another thing as long as I live."

"Speak your mind, Lyssa. Whatever this request is, I'm certain I can fulfill it." 

"I need you to deflower me." Lyssa blurted out in a rush, then buried her burning face in the tartan spread across her lap. "If that...issue is removed, I'll be of no real use to my father and he may let us continue in peace." She soldiered on, her words muffled by the fabric. 

Drew made a sound in his throat that was distinctly foreign. "I...dinnae think I heard ye right. Did you say-"

"Oh, don't make me say it again!" Lyssa begged, thoroughly humiliated. "This is all so embarrassing, Drew, please-" 

The tartan was tugged from her unwilling grasp, Drew's heavy gauntlets somehow deft enough to fold the sturdy fabric. "Many's the night I thought of such things, Lys. 'Tis nae shame in it." He assured her, a teasing smile on his mouth. 

"Maybe not for you." Lyssa retorted. One of the aforementioned heavy gauntlets tucked beneath her chin, tugging her eyes up to meet his own. 

"I am deadly serious, Lyssa."

"Yes, well, so am I." The young woman huffed, feeling thoroughly foolish and exposed without the warm drape of his plaid to shield her. 

"I hate that y' come to me with this request out of necessity. I had hoped…" Drew trailed off, shaking his head. "I suppose it doesnae matter now. I will serve ye in this manner as well, my love."

"Love? Drew, this i-is a matter of...you don't have to--I assure you I don't need to be coddled-"

"Hush, Lys. I want to." He murmured. 

His enthusiasm was evident in the way that he swept her up into his arms and carried her to their humble shelter, in the way that he didn't seem able to stop kissing her. The large man appeared to get himself out of his armor by swearing alone, his mumbled apologies doing wonders for Lyssa's nerves as he fought with the various buckles and latches. 

She couldn't help but get caught up in it all, hungry for the new sensations he graced her with after he abandoned removing his greaves in favor of other activities. Drew was, of course, miles more experienced than her, his rough touch equal parts soothing and maddening.

Lyssa had been warned about the pain by well-meaning housemaids, unable to keep from cringing when Drew finally settled in between her legs. "I...Drew, please just…" She struggled to get the words out, making him pause.

"Shall I stop, Lys?"

"No, no. I have to do it. I just know it will hurt." 

"You could lie to yer father, if ye are truly afeared of this. I willnae do anythin' without y' wishes." Drew assured her, smoothing her hair away from her face. "I won't tell a soul about what has already happened."

"We must do it." She insisted, frowning fiercely. Her hands clenched into fists on the sheepskin beneath her. "I am prepared, Sir Drew."

"I would give my damned life to have our first time together be out of newlywed affection, Lys. It wounds me than I cannae give y' any better than this." Drew sounded distraught about the whole thing, and that was enough to get Lyssa's undivided attention. 

"You...want to marry me?" She asked softly.

"Christ woman, I don't know how much more plain I can be." Drew shook his head, smiling sadly. "I would marry ye in a heartbeat. Tis' bittersweet, this act, stealin' away what I would have wanted y' to give to me willingly."

Lyssa sought a kiss which Drew gladly delivered, the young woman whimpering into his mouth. "I will be brave for you, Sir Drew." She gasped, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I leave myself in your care."

Drew returned her embrace, sliding one hand beneath her body to cradle her against his chest. Lyssa felt him prodding at her entrance and she turned her head away, too scared to watch. He was patient though, gently coaxing her to ease into the motion of it so that when he did finally breach her, it was as if he was coming home. "Gods, Lyssa." He choked, shifting his hips to settle himself. 

Lyssa felt hot all over her body, the pain melting into pleasure that seared her core and left her panting for breath. She was wet enough that her slick ran down her thighs, coating Drew's groin with her arousal. The knight groaned. "Is it alright?" Lyssa asked shyly, her fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. In reply, Drew exhaled an oath and she felt him tense.

"Perfection, Lys. You are Gods-given perfection." He said hoarsely.

The distant sound of an approaching horse was what roused the two from their post-coital drowse. Lyssa was unsure if she had truly been sleeping, or simply lazing beside the large man. The contentment leaked away, leaving her cold and wishing wistfully for more time. 

She rolled onto her stomach, stretching. Drew kissed her forehead and then draped his tartan around himself, securing it with his brooch at the shoulder. He had never actually removed his greaves; they rattled slightly when he stood. "Stay here, my love." His smile was tight.

The instant he left the tent Lyssa was hurrying to redress herself. A terrible feeling came over her, almost as if she was having a premonition. Fear and despair waged war in her heart while the galloping hoofbeats grew ever closer. 

"Ho there, Drew of McIntyre!" 

Lyssa squeezed her eyes shut in dismay. That voice belonged to the son of the laird she had been promised to. The flaxen-haired man was not an overly intelligent individual, as made abundantly evident by his lonely arrival. 

"Greetings to ye, Dolph." Lyssa was immensely jealous of how calm Drew sounded; why had she not insisted that he gird himself properly in all of his armor? "What brings ye to my humble hamlet?"

"You can drop the act, you shameless Scot." Dolph announced pompously. "The very notion that you thought you could get away with this-"

"I'm afraid I've no idea what yer on about, Dolph." 

"My father's betrothed! The audacity of you, stealing the poor girl away in the night like you're a damned highwayman." Lyssa lifted up the rear of the tent and slunk out, risking a peek around the corner. Dolph had dismounted to thump a finger into the center of Drew's broad chest, the blond looking disheveled and annoyed. "You must return her at once, or I'll-"

"Aye? You'll what." Drew growled. 

Dolph squinted suspiciously up at the taller man. "Drew, I see no reason for you to be so heinously uncooperative. Unless…" The blond trailed off. "Oh. Oh ho, McIntyre! It's to be like that, is it?!" He yelled, his hand flying to the guard of his rapier. "Your crimes will be punished tenfold, baseborn, if you do not produce Lady Lyssa!"

"Ye would attack an unarmed mon, Dolph? I knew ye were a coward, but this is a bit too rich for me." 

"Pick up your blade then, you cur!"

Lyssa inched backwards to the small copse of birch trees where their horses had been secured, her hands shaking nearly too hard to untie her mount. The gentle mare nudged her sleepily, nosing at her dress' pockets for a treat. Lyssa pressed her forehead to the animal's side, inhaling deeply in an attempt to calm her frantic heartbeat. It will be fine.

The ringing of steel on steel and a scream of outrage from Dolph shattered her attempt, the young woman wheeling to face the campsite. 

Drew and Dolph were trading blows beside the fire, their swords gleaming in the hellish light. "Drew!" Lyssa cried before she could think better of it, covering her mouth a second too late. 

The larger man glanced towards her, distracted, and Dolph seized the opening. The blade of his sword pierced the unarmored man's chest and stabbed deep. The two men froze, Drew staring at Lyssa and Dolph staring at his sword as though he couldn't believe what he had just done. 

"I…" Dolph began warily, jerking his rapier free and taking a step back. The blade was brilliantly red. Drew collapsed to his knees, dropping his own sword to press the folds of his now-ruined plaid against the mortal wound. Dolph's face hardened and he readied his blade once more.

Lyssa bolted forward at the blond man, not entirely certain what she was about to do. She had no weapons of her own. All she had was her body. "No!" She screamed, flinging herself between Dolph's sword and Drew's hunched form.

The pain was real, tangible, no dream. It stole the very breath from her chest. Yet she clung to Drew even as Dolph's blade slid home between her ribs.

"Lady Lyssa…" Drew whispered, a shaking hand coming up to tenderly cup her face and wipe away her tears. "Dinnae fret, my love. We will meet again." His other hand grasped in the disturbed dirt around the dying campfire, landing on the pommel of his faithful claymore. "I swear it."

He gripped her tightly and with a roar of exertion, he swung the large blade one-handed. All Lyssa could recall was his eyes, fearsome and brilliant in the dark of death that enveloped her. 

God-fearing country it might be, but I wager that there may be older gods roaming these lands at night...

…

Lyssa jerked awake, uncertain of her surroundings. For one terrifying moment her dream seemed like reality, the tent overhead the tent that she and her knight had-

"Drew?" She called, fumbling out of her sleeping bag. "Drew?" He wasn't in the tent beside her. Lyssa rushed to pull on her socks and boots, half-frantic now. 

She poked her head out of the tent, squinting in the pastel blue light of dawn. The forest was lively around the tent, birds having their morning chatter. Drew's boots were missing from the shelter, as well as his towel and grooming kit. Perhaps…

Lyssa struggled upright, flushing a little at how difficult it was to just move. Delicious memories warmed her from the inside out, stirring her blood. She felt almost guilty, giddy and still panicky at Drew's absence. 

It turned out she hadn't needed to worry. Drew was perched on a smooth rock beside the river, tiny travel mirror in one hand while he carefully shaved. A small turtle had taken up residence on the rock as well, basking comfortably in the first warm rays of sunlight. 

"...and I said that of course, of course I'm goin' to have an issue with him litterin', it draws the bears in. And do ye know what that fuck said t' me?" Drew paused, like he was waiting for a response. "Nae, he said 'why should I care, I'm here for a day hike and bears only come out at night'. Truly, the mon wanted to die." The large man sighed, another sure stroke of the razor ridding his neck of stubble. "So then-" 

"You two enjoying your conversation?" Lyssa teased, deja vu striking her hard when Drew turned to give her a quick smile. It was as if she had done this all before, but how could that even be possible?

"Ah, I see I'll have to work harder next time. Ye can still walk!" Drew jibed, making her blush hard.

"I had the weirdest dream, then I woke up and you weren't there."

"Oh? Do tell, love. I'm not quite done here anyway."

Lyssa settled onto the riverbank alongside the rock, pulling off her boots and dipping her feet into the chilly water. She didn't speak for several minutes, just listening to the river and the quiet scrape of Drew's razor on his throat. "I dreamed that we were in Scotland."

The razor noise stopped abruptly. 

"Old Scotland, though, not like modern day. You were a knight and I was some sort of nobility. I guess...I think I'd been promised to an older guy? Like an older guy wanted to marry me and you were helping me run away because I didn't want to marry him." Lyssa hugged herself, pointedly staring down at the water in an attempt to avoid the look she was sure Drew was giving her. "It was so real, less like a dream and more like a memory. I could feel it, how scared and uncertain I was, as though I had really gone through that experience."

"You dreamed of Scotland?" Drew's chuckle sounded strange, forced. "Dinnae realize I had that effect on folk."

"I don't think I've ever even seen a picture of Scotland, but somehow I know that's where it was. I'd bet on it, I'm that sure." Lyssa insisted, still staring at the water.

The large man cleared his throat after a minute and moved to splash some water onto his face. Lyssa noticed that he had nicked himself while shaving, the blood blotting his neck. Drew didn't seem particularly concerned about it though, scrubbing roughly at his face to rid himself of any leftover residue. "In your dream, was I still Drew?" The question was posed casually, like he was asking whether she had seen his keys or phone.

Lyssa smiled, feeling oddly wistful. "You were, one hundred percent."

Drew's shoulders relaxed slightly, the planes of his back becoming less pronounced. "Good."

…

McIntyre.

Lyssa's heart sank at the list of pages that came up just by searching that one name. Motto Per Ardua, dominion over Glencoe, Hebrides, a clan that kept to itself for a majority of history...maybe she would have better luck researching their tartan. Something to confirm her suspicions.

However, the very first image had her staring wide-eyed at the screen. There it was, plain as day, a background of forest green and navy shot through with bands of red and white. She remembered the rough and worn patches of it, the way the white bands were more prone to snags than the red. How could she have known that was their plaid?

She reached for her phone, but then paused. Drew had been strangely standoffish since they had returned from their camping trip, still eager to engage sexually but not so much in conversation. If anything, it was almost as if he was sexually frustrated. Lyssa felt weird about the whole scenario, flattered by the attention but unable to forget that incredibly realistic dream…

Speak of the devil, her phone vibrated. 

-I know this is tactless of me, but there's rumors of a spot opening up at HHH. Still looking to jump ship from your current endeavor?

Lyssa laughed aloud, picking up her phone and typing out a reply.

-Gods you're mean. I miss you too.

-im serious Lys.

She raised an eyebrow at the missed capitalization. Normally Drew was fastidious about his texting. 

-I think you'd do well in this position. When can I see you again?

-Why? Is it because you liiiiiiiiike me? Do you miiiiiiiiss me?

-I thought THAT was fucking obvious.

…

"Dolph!" Drew roared, his hands around the reveler's neck before he had finished saying his name.

Dolph squawked, eyes bulging slightly. "What?! What did I do?"

"You killed her, that's what you did!" Drew snarled. "Ye miserable, low-lyin' scum!" His blood was boiling, brogue tar-thick in his mouth. He was certain he must sound like a raving lunatic.

"Drew, please." Alicia said quietly, touching his shoulder. "I didn't explain things so you could fly off the handle-"

"Trust me, love, this ent flyin' off the handle." The large man seethed, "you prick. You prick!" 

"I'm still very confused-" Dionysus managed to say.

"Actaeon, he wouldn't remember either. Both of you had been tossed for some crap you pulled. You were just acting out your mortal roles, it's no one's fault."

"He's about to shuffle me off the mortal coil-!" The blond squeaked, thrashing in Drew's iron grasp. "Aphrodite do something!"

"What the hell are you idiots doing?" Hunter asked incredulously as he emerged from his office. "Can you two stop fucking with each other for five minutes?" 

"I am about to make an opening in this company's ranks. We could use a new social media director." Drew replied curtly, as though he wasn't choking the current social media director to death.

"Not like that, you're not!" Hades snapped. "We have interviews, paperwork. That kind of shit. We play by their rules, Wild God, otherwise we get pantheon gaps and that crap ends well for no one."

"I resign--!" Dolph gasped, waving his hands in the air. 

At those words, Drew slacked his hold slightly. "Swear it on yer soul." He demanded. 

"Yes, absolutely, whatever you want." The blond wheezed. "I'll fill out the forms Hunter, I don't care, just get me the hell away from him!"

Hades sighed, rubbing his temples. "Dare I ask who you have in mind for the position, Actaeon?"

Drew's grin in reply was slow to come, his dimples displayed prominently for a brief moment. "Oh, ne'er ye worry. You'll meet her soon enough."

…

“You've got some explaining to do, McIntyre.” Lyssa said firmly, her hands on her hips. Her cat undermined her authority thoroughly by winding around Drew's ankles, purring loudly. “Why am I having Renaissance faire dreams, accurate ones?” Your family plaid, the moors... She bit her tongue and waited impatiently for his answer.

“Would that I could explain, Lys.” Drew looked pained, “I doubt that ye would even accept the explanation if I gave it.”

“If I'm going to be working at the same company as you-”

“Ah, ye. See, I'm not the only one there with a little...oddness about them, love. I'd warn ye not to pry, but I know that's a damn lost cause.” Drew rested his hands on her shoulders, blue eyes searching her own. “All I ask is that ye are careful. Old...older...er, people work with us.”

“Just like the old gods that wandered the moors at night?” Lyssa challenged. Drew closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose in an exasperated gesture. “How long are you planning on lying to me, McIntyre?”

“Christ woman, I'm not lookin' to get ye killed again!” Drew snapped, then swore under his breath. “Look.” He finally said fiercely, “You died in my arms once. You gave me everythin' you had, down to lettin' me thieve yer fuckin' innocence away on a filthy sheepskin. I was supposed to keep you safe. Instead, we bled out together, 'twined in plaid and cinders.” Drew pressed his forehead to hers. “I can't do that again. Please...don't make me.” He begged, his voice cracking.

Lyssa sighed, folding her arms but not pulling away. “Am I going to regret taking this position, Drew?” When he hesitated, she puffed out a breath. “Okay, fine. At least answer this: are you planning on telling me what's going on?”

“Gods, Lys, you have no idea how much I want to.”

She patted his elbow, then pulled away. “Great! I'll make us some tea and start to fill out that transfer paperwork. In the meantime, you can get started with that explanation you owe me.”

“Now wait a minute,” Drew began to protest, catching her hand before she left the living room. “Lys, ye know I cannae-”

Lyssa tapped his nose, barely stifling her laugh at how his eyes crossed momentarily to track her finger. “You can, and more importantly, you will.” She gave him a peck on his slack mouth and then slipped free of his hold to head for the kitchen. “Love you!” She sang.

...

After she left the room, Drew touched his lips, the dark-haired man still a little bewildered at the abrupt turn the day's events had taken. “I...I love ye too, Lys.” He said softly, probably too softly for her to hear.

It was better that way. Less complicated. Yet as she pored over the forms he had brought and attempted to pry scraps of information from him, Drew couldn't help but feel at peace. Brittle, fragile, intoxicating in its novelty, her trust in him stole his breath and her questions kept coming.

He would tell her the truth in its entirety someday. For now, however, he would let her spin whatever wild ideas she wished. It was better that way, after all. Mortals were so short-lived, and it was better to take his happiness where he could find it.

[wintersweetbou]

Glaiveweek 2020- Day 5. Chicken Soup Solves Everything

Day 5 of Glaiveweek 2020. @glaiveweek I’m a bit late, but here it is!

Prompt: Angst, Fluff and Smut- Hold On, Time of your Life, Its Warm and Peaceful

Summary: The last wave of winter has a bad case of the flu bringing the glaive to its knees. Luche sneaks off to the kitchens, and finds help in a young adviser. 

Spring rain pelted the city, washing away the remnants of winter. However, the two seasons mixed first, bringing icy rain and grey chill to Insomnia. People trudged to work and then ran home. It was too messy to do anything else- and running about in sleet was not the best of ideas. The kingsglaive continued to run as always, but incurred some losses to the flu making its final rounds as the winter heaved its last breath. Luche warped from the parking garage into glaive headquarters. He bustled forward, trying to shake off the cold. He was on requisition duty today. Axis was out sick, so he needed to inventory the armory for potions, munitions, and weapon stocks. Asking the others about the state of their weapons for inventory might not be a bad idea either- the new forge order for custom weapons was coming up. Best to get ahead before anyone else got sick. Luche smiled to himself. Best to stay ahead of the game. The offices held the requisition tablet, and the forms needed to be filled out upon application...Someone sneezed. Luche turned to see Pelna making copies, looking absolutely dreadful. His usually warm umber skin looked kind of pale and sickly, his dark hair slightly plastered to his forehead with rain. Luche noted his state, and internally decided to make orange tea later for him. “You feeling ok, Pels? Looking a little pale there.” “Yeah...just tired...and achy.” Pelna seemed to droop a squidge more at the admission. “Take it easy today then. Do you have any custom armor or weapon requests? The forge order is coming through soon, and it's a good idea to check beforehand.” Luche murmured, adjusting the wayward hair on Pelna’s forehead. Pelna nodded, looking thoughtful, before shivering and turning away with his copies. Luche raised a brow, and changed that internal note to include soup. Charming citadel staff could sometimes beg treats from the castle kitchens. Maybe he could snag something hot- the dark haired glaive looked dreadful. Luche sighed, turning to check in with the captain before going off to the armory. The captain looked more haggard than usual, dark circles under his eyes. Luche glanced at him from the side, suspicious. “Here’s the list of things we definitely need, and as for the forge order, I am covered. Very thoughtful though. Recheck the armory and transport vehicles, especially the first aid and potion stocks.” Drautos grated, voice rougher than usual. “Yessir. You feeling ok? Sound a little scratchy there.” Luche watched, noting some stiffness in his movements. “I’ll shake it off. I’m fine. Dismissed.” Touchy, too. That meant the captain was solidly out of sorts. Luche saluted, and spun about, wondering if he was the only healthy glaive left. The armory was peaceful without the music that Axis liked blasting about, but also seemed colder for the same reason. Luche tucked his coat tighter about him, swearing about getting some citrus later. His work passed smoothly, even if the glaives were disasters on a personal level, they kept their gear organized. Arms noted, potions counted, bombs recorded...it had only taken an hour. Six, that was quick. Oh well. Perhaps he could check on the glaives training for possible forge orders. Luche shifted the tablet, making one final note, before heading off for the arena and weight rooms. Glaives warped and practiced magic at regular intervals in the arena. It was nowhere near the level of energy that was normally used. The sight of half-assed combat drills slowed Luche to a stop. Concerned, he turned on heel and made for the citadel. Whatever bug or fatigue was working through the ranks, he had to do something, else the glaives would start to drop like flies. And yes, this was a common occurrence throughout any historical militia, but these were modern times godsdamnit. Luche would make sure something was done. It was a quick walk through the hallways that connected the glaive headquarters to the rest of the citadel to gain access to the main keep. His status as a glaive gained him access to the servant hallways, normally only used by crownsguard and castle staff. Luche passed several guards, who raised eyebrows but said nothing. The kitchens were below the main floors, along with the boilers and other service hatches. It was just a few stairs- the elevators were packed with maids bustling with food for the council. Lunch was almost here, they needed to serve early so the council could eat and clean up before the session resumed. It was a tight schedule, but worked if he timed it right. Which was why Luche walked in when he did. The main meal was already measured out, so any leftovers could be served to friendly faces afterwards.  Smart guards and glaives made friends with the cooks, because royal leftovers were divine, even when microwaved.   Luche rounded the corner, and put on his best puppy eyes. Single rations were easy to get, but enough soup for a squad of glaives? He would need to charm it up...and stopped at the sight of a kid, perhaps ten, struggling to heft a huge bag of potatoes. The kid panted, teetering,  and Luche warped to steady the lad before he fell and hurt himself. The boy peered up from behind thick glasses, auburn hair combed neatly, uniform pressed to perfection. While his appearance was immaculate, his speech was not. A slightly accented voice stuttered apologies and thanks, blushing fiercely. Luche slung the sack over a shoulder, smiling gently. The kid was cute. “Be more careful, you could pull something by lifting too much at once. Luche Lazarus.” The glaive grinned, offering his hand. “Ignis Scientia. I will be more careful, thank you.” Ignis shook his hand, and pointed to the high steel countertop where he was trying to put the potatoes. “What is a kid like you doing in the kitchens?” Luche plopped the sack on the clean metal. “The cook said if I helped do some chores, he would teach me how to cook.” Ignis stated shyly. “Oh? Anything in particular?” “There is a dessert I’m trying to recreate, but I can’t get it to turn out right. I figured asking for help would be better than wasting more ingredients.” Ignis stared at the floor, the tops of his ears burning. “Practical.” Luche nodded. The both turned as head chef Brusa bustled forward, a large, jolly man, handing a peeler to the kid, and clapped Luche on the back. Luche smiled, accepting the affection. Showtime. “What can I do for the kingsglaive today?” The chef grinned, smile softening as Luche explained his plight, working his best sad eyes. His friends were getting sick, and he hoped he could please have some leftover soup to soothe their sore throats, whatever they had, pretty please… The Brusa was a major softie for the guards and the glaives. He announced that he would not stand by while those so nobly training to defend Lucis suffered. Ignis watched with wide eyes as his first lesson in pastry making  was hijacked into a lesson on making soup light enough to soothe troubled stomachs, but hearty enough to sustain soldiers. The young adviser took careful notes- even if this wasn’t pastry lessons, it would still serve the prince if he knew how to prepare foods for illnesses- and helped with the preparation of a huge, several gallon pot of stew. Luche watched, entranced at the controlled chaos enfolding before him. The chef whirled gracefully, preparing ingredients while lecturing about proper food safety. Clean the carrots, chop the celery, warm the leftover stock, measure out the noodles, the thick ones- these are for the glaives, Ignis!- set them to boil...Luche flicked open the notes app on his phone, quickly recording the recipe, for future use. The chef’s food was never ever a disappointment. Luche had to subtly swallow back some drool as the scent of something scrumptious began to waft through the kitchens. Ignis carefully added diced chicken, dripping some of the fat into the bubbling pot, listening to Brusa chuckle about how noodles soaked up that flavor, making it heaven. “ A bit of salt, thyme, rosemary..and heres the secret, Ignis, mint. Just a squidge- the camphor in the leaves has been used for ever in cough medicine, chest rubs. Not too much, it is dangerous in large amounts, but just enough. The broth will break up the mucus of the throat, but the mint is what soothes the flesh after.” The head chef beamed, sprinkling a handful into the monster of a pot, stirring excitedly. Luche typed furiously, feeling his own stomach start to grumble- loud enough for Brusa to hear. “Sounds good, right, glaive?” The chef chuckled, glancing at the sheepish glaive. “Sounds good, smells amazing. Thank you so much, chef. My compliments.” “My, my. You haven’t even tasted it!” The chef blushed, still stirring. “I have to compliment it now, while I still have words, for I’m sure your stew will render me speechless.” Chef Brusa flushed deeper, staring into the pot, before slapping a lid on it. “Give it ten minuets to boil together, then pour it into one of the travel warmers over by the sinks. Ladles are above. I’m afraid we are low on disposable utensils and bowls, but there are still an abundance of paper cups left over from the prince’s birthday celebration.” Luche bowed low, thanking the chef, and turned to haul down a warmer, and Ignis scrambled to find the cups. Fifteen minuets later saw the glaive and adviser-to-be turning the corner to the glaive headquarters, leaden with food. Ignis worked hard to match Luche’s stride, fueled by the promise of all the pastry lessons he could want should he help ladle out soup for the glaive. Lunch was about here, and if they worked fast, they could warm up everyone all in one go, as they convened in the common room for break. Luche and Ignis worked in tandem, handing out cups to exhausted, sniffly glaives. Snacks were always the secret to a soldier’s heart. Libertus tried to be gruff, but at the first sip his eyes glowed, and he mumbled thanks around a mouthful of noodles. Nyx grinned, warming his hands on the cup, sipping slowly, savoring. His eyes slid closed, and he breathed gratitude for the shef. Crowe nibbled on a noodle, pestering him for the recipe, warmth filling her. Tredd took the soup without a word, happily chugging it, giving a thumbs up as he retreated into the common area. Sonitus smiled, seeming the only one still healthy, accepting his share with gratefulness. Only Pelna and the captain were not present, and Luche loped off to the offices. Pelna typed absently at his desk, clearly in a fog. Luche cocked his head, noting how glassy his eyes were, setting the cup gently in front of the glaive. Pelna seemed to notice the movement, and glanced blankly up. Luche frowned, ignoring personal space, feeling his forehead. “Guess I’m not doing so hot.” Pelna sighed, picking up the soup, testing the temperature. “You are doing very hot. That seems to be your problem.” Luche pulled back, concerned by the fever burning under the tanned skin. Pelna grumbled absently in response, chewing slowly. “Go home. Take care of yourself and don’t spread this around. There is more soup- eat this, then meet me in the hallway. Pack up and go home. I will tell Drautos. Rest.” Luche squeezed his shoulders, and smiled at the sheepish mumble of assent. With that out of the way, Luche turned to check on the captain. The captain was borderline incomprehensible, his scratchy voice now almost gone. Luche leveled a glare at Drautos, before setting the cup on his desk. “You sound like shit, captain. With all due respect, get out. Go home, and sleep this off.” Luche growled, not liking the stubborn set of Dratos’s eyes. “I don’t care. I just sent Pelna home for the same reason. Rest now and heal early, or suffer longer. Choose.” Drautos glared down into the soup, then slumped as he picked up the steaming cup, trying a few drops of broth. His broad shoulders loosened, and he took a larger draught, unable to hold back the hum of appreciation. Luche continued to glare, until the captain grated out some sort of submission, standing to gather his things. It would do no one good if he was out longer then he had to be, it would be more efficient to nip this in the bud. Luche waved as the captain and Pelna ambled out into the rain. Mission accomplished. The glaive found Ignis stammering, ladling second helpings to appreciative glaives. The kid looked like he was about to combust under the compliments on his cooking. Several looked better already, Libertus loudly bickering with Nyx on traditional stew ingredients, and Tredd adding his own experience into the mix. Luche smiled, sidling up to the young adviser, helping him dole out more liquid happiness. “You did really good, kid. If you ever need help, we take snacks as payment.” Luche whispered. Ignis nodded, promising himself to learn more recipes under his breath. Maybe the crownsguard could be bought into favors with snacks too. The marshall’s sweet tooth was legendary. Ignis grinned, and Luche watched with no small amusement. A young adviser, already being taught to bribe glaives. He was proud. A glance around had Luche affirming that everyone had been served, and poured a cup for himself, gesturing for Ignis to do the same. The soup was heaven, noodles thick, celery and carrots crunchy, chicken hearty...Luche hummed deep in his chest, drinking deeply. The soup warmed him from the inside, sating the hangry festering there, A look about confirmed the other glaives felt the same. Warm, sated, and peaceful. If, later in the week, Luche awoke to a sore throat and aching body, well. He had the perfect recipe for heaven in a pot.

[aliceslantern]

Heartlines, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 8

Twelve years ago, Xemnas betrayed the royal court of Radiant Garden to his father, Xehanort. Prince Ienzo flees to another city and begins university in the aftermath, hoping the anonymity will protect him from eager eyes with ill intent. The darkness spilling across the country, as well as an individual from his past, cut short Ienzo's new beginning and bring new conflicts to light. Strained between the desires of his magic and his heart, Ienzo's choice will change him forever.

Modern Fantasy AU, Soulmates, Zemyx. Updates Fridays until it's done.

Chapter summary:  Ienzo reveals what he's learned to Demyx, who begins to remember. They decide whether or not to act on the bond.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

They walked back mostly in silence. By the time they finally got back, it was very late and Ienzo was exhausted, his feet hurting awfully. The light in the window of the townhouse was on. Ienzo took a moment to compose himself. “Are you going to come in? Visit old friends?”

Dilan chuckled. “Maybe another time.”

“So leaving me to explain this on my own, then.”

He smiled. “Oh, I know you can talk your way out of it. Until we meet again.” He disappeared almost soundlessly into the night.

He hadn’t fully opened the door before Even was on him, grasping his shoulders. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?” All the anger was gone.

“I’m fine. I’m simply--very tired.”

“Where were you? Do you have any idea how worried I was?”

“I needed some air.”

“It’s after dark--you could’ve gotten hurt, or worse--”

“I was fine.” He started towards the stairs. “Even, I can… defend myself.”

“At the cost of setting a beacon for all Xehanort’s many eager ears.”

This felt like a conversation he’d had many times. “We can argue about this in the morning. I need rest.”

He sighed. “Very well.” Even shut the light.

Ienzo took a warm shower. Once he was in bed, despite his exhaustion, he struggled to sleep.

Meet the resistance. Be the face of it.

To do something. At last.

What about Demyx? They were… quite literally… soulmates. Ienzo felt that rush of heat in his magic again, but it wasn’t lust. At least, not entirely. Had Ansem truly not known about this? Even seemed to think so, Dilan didn’t. Who was right?

Ienzo wished he could ask him. If Ansem had known… why had he made this decision? He, who openly encouraged Ienzo’s willfulness?

(Or was that encouragement all an act?)

He began to understand what Demyx had meant when he said he wasn’t sure if anyone in his life actually cared for him… No, Ienzo, stop being dramatic. If Even and the others didn’t care about him, they could’ve abandoned him, or worse, long ago. They did care--even if their care was smothering, misguided--

He took a deep breath, and then another, and another. No use getting worked up.

He wished Demyx were here with him.

Ienzo sat through class in a haze the next day. He had Demyx’s pendant, as well as the other, in his pocket (he refused to think of it as his , but yet also could not bring himself to put it back in its little silver box). He’d only managed to sleep for a few hours, too wound up to do anything other than fret and toss and turn. His calves were aching from the long walk both ways. Had he always been this physically weak? Maybe that should change, especially if he were considering meeting this aqueous resistance. There was a gym on campus, free to use with his tuition. Might be worth scouting out.

He again had the class Demyx TA’d for. He couldn’t help the small smile seeing him, and found it returned. But then, with a flash--he was going to have to tell Demyx what he’d learned. A wave of anxiety made him physically dizzy, and his magic threatened to wake up. He held it at bay and tried to focus on the lecture, about the neoclassical movement. Instead he found himself scribbling in the margins of his notebook.

This was all so bizarre.

He barely knew Demyx, yet here their lives were intertwined. Perhaps the rushes of feeling he was having were predetermined. He tried to hold onto that rage of having this choice taken from him, yet, it was so soothing . So almost instinctive. He hadn’t even known he was gay prior to this, had perhaps thought he was nothing . Was he even meant to be with anyone else? Perhaps this was what was called "demisexuality", something he'd read about aqueously when he'd researched gender all those years ago--

This romanticism was somewhat pathetic.

Demyx immediately joined him after the class was over. “Hey,” he said. “How are you doing?”

“I am… tired,” he said. “And yourself?”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about… stuff,” he said evasively.

“Do you have a few moments?”

A small smile. “For you? Any time.”

And he knew that the simplicity of this phrase should not have made him melt --gods, Ienzo hated this. “Is there somewhere private on campus we can talk?”

Demyx pursed his lips. “Sure. Come on.” He led him to the older section of campus. Despite the dreariness of a sky threatening rain, the light still seemed rosy, warm. This time, when Demyx slid his hand into Ienzo’s, Ienzo didn’t pull away. He liked the way the calluses fit against his own soft skin.

They approached one of the ivy-covered structures. Its face had a sandstone arch, and old glass doors. Ienzo saw closed doors leaving to what was presumably an auditorium. Demyx took him to the left. “Music and music ed have most of our classes here,” he said. “It’s kind of… old, I know.”

As they passed classrooms, Ienzo saw what Demyx meant; the whole building had that slightly sweet smell of old wood. The empty classrooms had blackboards instead of the smartboards Ienzo had seen elsewhere, and the desks were mismatched. Some doors were propped open with doorstops where their hydraulics had failed. A few wooden upright pianos were scratched, their finish faded.

“It’s funny,” Demyx continued. “The concert and recital series bring in a ton of money for campus, and they can’t even bother to remodel the place.”

“Where does it go, then?”

“Did you see that fancy new engineering building?” He sighed. “Listen. Science? Is great. But people aren’t going to listen to science on their commute and they’re not going to see it when they turn on their TV. Science won’t help you through the bad times.”

Ienzo bit his lip; it had been Ansem who steered them culturally towards the sciences. “It’s a shame,” he said instead.

Demyx took him up one more flight. He took a keycard out of his wallet and tapped it on a closed door. “Et voila,” he said lamely. “One of the only real perks of being a TA.”

It was a small, square room, with black soundproofing foam mounted on the walls. There was an electric keyboard, a few black metal music stands, and a chair or two. “A practice suite?”

He nodded. “We’re supposed to do lab hours, but… honestly a lot of us just use them to hang out. Or… other stuff.” He winced. “Not that this is why we’re here.” He pulled two chairs over from the wall. “So… what did you want to talk about?”

Ienzo took a deep breath. He reached into his pocket and pulled out Demyx’s pendant. “I wanted to give this back to you,” he said softly. “Moreover…” He took out the second. Unceremoniously, he fitted the two together.

Demyx’s expression had gone blank, his eyes wide.

“We’re not just pairbonded,” Ienzo began. “We’re soulbound. My… guardian told me about it. Apparently… your people offered you to me… as protection, and in a wayward attempt at peace. That all of you might help pacify the unrest in Radiant Garden, and stave off revolution during a period of reform.”

Demyx’s hand snapped to his mouth.

“And allegedly, this was done because of the ways our souls resonated with one another. So this half… is mine.” He offered it back to him, but Demyx didn’t take it. “I know this is a lot to take in--believe me, I didn’t react half as well.”

His hand shot from his mouth to his temple, and he let out a pained gasp.

“Demyx?”

“I--I, um…” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I think I… remember--”

“Remember what?”

“God, it fucking--” He rocked back and forth slightly. “Oh…”

“Are you alright?”

When Demyx finally opened his eyes, they were wet. “Got it,” he said simply. “I was… picked.” He said it with the air of something new and yet known. “My parents… my mom was really sick, and… they would be provided for if… I went with them.”

“With who?”

“The… choosers, the chief of our… colony.” There was something distant and horrified in his eyes. “I was… sold? So my mom could get medicine?”

“They were pairbonded,” Ienzo murmured. “Easier to lose you than her… I’m so sorry.”

“And then, I…” He stood up suddenly, and went over to the window. “They took me, said I had somewhere important to be, and then I saw you.”

“That was when you saved my life,” Ienzo said.

“Yes, but… after that…” He tapped his forehead. “They… cut off my form, and they were going to… send me to you, I think, more directly, but…” He leaned heavily against the sill. “All of sudden the colony was being sieged, and everything was being…” A moan. “I just ended up on the beach… and I forgot.”

“And then someone found you.”

“And adopted me. And I lived normally, and Riku and I looked into it when he started getting magic, and then… is now.” He turned to face Ienzo, tears running freely down his face.

“I’m so sorry,” Ienzo said. “I’m so--” It didn’t feel awkward or uncalled for to go over and draw Demyx into his arms, to comfort him as he cried and stroke his hair. Like they’d done it dozens of times before. Ienzo had never been able to make a choice before, and yet still his existence was hurting people.

After a while, Demyx calmed down. He wiped at his eyes. “This is all so weird. Why did they do this to us, Ienzo?”

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. You didn’t ask for any of this. You were just a kid.”

“So were you.” He took a deep breath and realized he, too, was upset. “All along our choices have been taken away from us, and now--” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “There has to be something that can be done. There has to--” In it, a certainty.

He was going to go to the resistance.

“Demyx?” he asked softly. “I think I know a way to stop all this. To give people choices back. Will you help me?”

He bit his lip. Then, “Yeah. I will.”

Ienzo leaned forward and kissed him. Too quickly it became hotter, more intense; Demyx still tasted like salt, his skin damp. Ienzo drew his hands up through his hair. Demyx’s hands trembled where they rested on his back. He ran his tongue along Demyx’s lips and felt them part.

He hated how natural this felt, how good, his magic waking up, his nerves all too raw. If he’d had a choice, would he have chosen Demyx?

Almost at this thought, the other man pulled away. “Do you want to…” He began. “Do you want to go back to my place?”

Ienzo felt the blood rush to his face. “Yes.”

Demyx picked up his pendant from its place on the chair and slid it back on. Ienzo couldn’t help but stare at the other. “You don’t have to,” he said.

Ienzo nodded, and put it back into his pocket.

They walked off campus together in a sort of silence. Anticipation had his heart racing. He had no idea what he was about to do, if anything, but this resolve made him eager to explore. They were going to get through this together . Demyx’s hands, when he undid the lock, were still shaking. “Um, it’s through here,” he said. “My room. I mean.” The color in his face warmed his tan skin. They took off their shoes at the door.

Ienzo followed him in a haze. The room was relatively small; it barely fit the double bed, the desk and dresser, and a bookshelf full of CDs and records. Ienzo wasn’t sure why he was surprised it was clean; in fact, he could smell fresh laundry and floor cleaner. Blinds made the light even rosier. He noticed, out of the corner of his eye, an instrument--he guessed it was Demyx’s sitar. It was clearly very old, and well loved; the varnish worn off in places, though it had a place of honor by the window on its own stand.

“Oh yeah… there she is,” he said softly. He sat on the bed.

“Perhaps you’ll play for me sometime,” Ienzo said. He turned back to him.  It took a moment of culling his nerve before he was able to sit down next to him.

Demyx touched his cheek. “So,” he said in a low voice. “Look… if you ever feel uncomfortable with anything, at any time, just tell me.”

He nodded. It was hard to breathe, and he was sweating under his cardigan.

Demyx leaned in to kiss him, gently, softly. Ienzo kissed back a little more deeply, reaching over to feel at his back, finding his suspicions were right; Demyx was wiry under that loose shirt.

He pulled away and kissed at Ienzo’s jaw, his throat, so slowly , the feel of it making him gasp for air. He could hear Demyx breathing quickly, unevenly, his hand sliding up under Ienzo’s thigh, bringing with it a rush of goosebumps, the magic quivering around him in little waves. He let himself be eased back onto the bed, which smelled so like Demyx. Suddenly Ienzo was feeling at his arms, his sides, his chest. His hands were so much more sensitive now.

He should fight this. Wait, as they’d said. But would it really be so awful to see this through if it were unbreakable anyway?

For a moment they broke apart. Demyx brushed away Ienzo’s bangs. “That eye’s blind,” he said, as explanation. “Too much… magic use, at one point in my life.”

“Oh.” He traced his finger along Ienzo’s lip, making him shudder, and kissed his eyelid. “Would it be okay if I--” He reached for the hem of his own shirt.

Ienzo’s heart just beat all the harder. “Yes.” Even in this dim lighting, he found himself caught staring at him, his lean toned body. Ienzo longed to taste that skin, so he did, pressing his lips Demyx’s shoulder, his collarbone. He breathed that salt, that sweetness. Demyx pressed him down against the bed a little more, close enough that their bodies were touching, that he was certain he could feel Demyx’s dick. It was rubbing up against him, not quite between his legs, making his clit throb. Ienzo pushed up, wanting to feel more of it. Demyx slid an arm under him to help.

He hadn’t ever quite felt like this before. It was a feeling that was somehow so new and so old at the same time, familiar yet not. They drank each other in with a sort of urgency. Demyx’s hand slid up under Ienzo’s shirt. “Can I--take this--”

“Yes.” Ienzo struggled out of the sweater; the cooler air of the room was welcome. For a moment Demyx just looked at him. Then, he traced one trembling hand along Ienzo’s side, running it along his flat chest. Ienzo gasped a little.

Demyx leaned down and kissed his nipple, teasing it gently, and Ienzo nearly swore out loud. He’d never wanted so hard, not even as a hormonally confused teenager. “Is that good?”

He could only nod. Demyx kept at it, moving all along his skin before so tentatively sliding one hand up along his inner thigh between his legs. Ienzo thought he might faint.

“You’re alright?” Demyx asked.

“Yes.” All he could manage; not exactly eloquent.

Demyx touched him slowly, and having it muffled through the clothing was almost more than Ienzo could take. He had to either stop this now, or let it run its course; he was on the verge of falling apart completely. At least this was a choice he could make.

Ienzo pulled his hands away from Demyx’s hair and reached for the button of his jeans, startling him. “I don’t think I can… do the whole thing,” he said thickly. “But perhaps we can--”

“Right. Yeah. Sure.” He laughed a little and helped Ienzo out of his own pants. “Little too hot under the collar?”

“I feel I may combust.”

Demyx pressed a kiss against his cheek, his jaw, his throat. “Maybe I can do something about that.”

“Alright.”

“Alright?”

Despite being in this heightened state, it still took a moment or so of finding the nerve before Ienzo was able to touch Demyx too, wondering along the shape of his dick. Demyx gasped. The skin was feverish even through the fabric of his boxers.

“Fuck,” he spat. “Ienzo, I--” His hips strained a little. “Could I--touch--”

“Just do it already.”

Another small laugh; Ienzo did too, despite himself. How strange, to be so comfortable with a near-stranger, to open this part of himself to him. Demyx kissed him on the lips, teasing him once or twice more before finally sliding his hand down Ienzo’s waistband. Ienzo couldn’t quite breathe. The moment was so surreal as to be vaguely nostalgic, like it had been done before, the magic making every nerve feel almost twice as much. This is what you wanted, he thought towards it. Well, here.

Demyx felt at him for a moment before he found the clit, almost making Ienzo moan out loud. “God, you’re wet.”

Ienzo just grabbed him and kissed him. Demyx began to stroke him in earnest, a steady, smooth motion, which did not provide relief so much as turn him on more. “I feel so much,” he muttered, without meaning to.

“Me too.”

He couldn’t quite reciprocate as much as he might have liked, only able to fumble at him a few times. Even his most intense personal sessions could not compare. Ienzo was acutely aware that it was the soulbinding making him experience this so strongly.

“Relax,” Demyx whispered.

He tried to listen. He was shaking. Demyx moved his hand a little faster; Ienzo could already feel the tightening beginning in his stomach, his thighs. He resisted it. He felt both out of his body yet so in it, in awe of the soft sounds they were both making, the way it tasted to kiss him. He pressed harder against Demyx’s hand. The subtle scratch of the calluses along the too-sensitive part of him became all he could focus on.

This really is happening, he thought dazedly.

“Does this feel good?” Demyx asked him, his voice somewhat distant.

“Don’t stop.” So he was capable of speech.

Lips against his throat. He could hear his own breath, heightened and strange. He felt Demyx tease the actual opening, and after a moment, slip a finger up into him, causing him to spasm. “Does that--hurt?” Demyx asked. “I--”

“No. It doesn’t--” He bucked his hips against it, and feeling the push and pull, Demyx still working his clit with his thumb. “Oh…” Not so much a moan as a sort of realization.

Even after so much buildup, it came as a shock to him, little waves breaking over him. Ienzo wasn’t able to do anything but let it happen, a warm release in his magic making the world fuzzy. Demyx pressed a kiss against his forehead. “Did you just--”

“...Maybe a little.” He swallowed, feeling tears in his eyes, of all the things. The sensation of warmth hadn’t faded, and again all his senses felt raw, as though anything insignificant had peeled away.

“I thought I felt it.” He squirmed a little. The color on his face had reached his collarbones.

“Lay down,” Ienzo said.

“You don’t… I mean, it was your first time ever , so--” It seemed difficult for him to speak.

“I want to.”

Demyx complied. Ienzo eased off his underwear and took his dick into his hand. Demyx moaned. “Just kind of--here.” He adjusted Ienzo’s hand.

A sort of embarrassment almost broke the pleasure he was feeling. How often had he fantasized about having one of these himself, only to not know how to properly deal with it? But after a moment or so, Demyx was making these small beautiful noises, his eyes shut tight. Ienzo tried to kiss him too, to find the spots that excited him. Doing this flooded the magic with another sort of pleasure. Demyx clutched the sheet with one hand. He felt Demyx’s cock tense a little, and he moaned, and Ienzo felt the sticky heat of it against his palm. A heartbeat after this, he thought he felt Demyx’s energy brush against his, that same moment of release.

Oh.

For a moment they both struggled to catch their breath. Ienzo knew without being told that his hair was again glowing; he could feel it on his scalp. “Are you alright?” Demyx asked him. Then, “here.” He handed him a tissue to wipe off his hand.

“I’m… fine.” Demyx threw it out for him. “I feel like we’ve… done this before.”

“Me too.” He settled more naturally against the sheets and drew Ienzo against him.

“You’ve had sex with other people. Does it feel like that?”

He laughed. “No. Not even close.”

Ienzo did not know the feeling washing over him. He rested his head against Demyx’s chest. The other man began to play with his hair.

“Does this happen every time you come?”

“I don’t think so. I’ve never particularly noticed. I think this was… special.” His lip curled.

Another laugh. He took one of Ienzo’s hands into his. For a few minutes they just enjoyed each other; it took Ienzo too long to realize that what he felt was safety . He did not have to worry, right now, about consciously reining the magic that always threatened to explode from him. Demyx took care of all that. “You know…” He began. “This… soulbond stuff. Do you think you and me would have picked each other otherwise?”

“I… am not entirely sure,” Ienzo said. “But… if any of what they’ve told me is true, then… we were chosen because our souls resonated , not because we’re two powerful people. That means on some level… we must be intrinsically compatible. Better to think that… than the alternative.”

“I still don’t really know you,” Demyx murmured. “...And so much for waiting.”

“Quite. Well.” He took a deep breath. “We’ve got time… relatively speaking.”

“And I should actually buy you dinner.”

Ienzo chuckled a little. “That would be quite nice.”

[azrcxlfatale]

under the cut you’ll find saint’s intro, its just a brief run down for now until i get bio pages up but it should help get a sense of the boyo all the same !! he is gentle and friend shaped is all i can say ajjdfg. THIS HAS NOW BEEN UPDATED WITH LIKE FIVE EXTRA LIL MORE CURRENT HEADCANONS! [ they r just like for his own growth nothing major has happened with saint and he’s still fundamentally the same as he was bc he’s always been a more laidback and less tragic muse but feel free to read em bc they do help contextualise how he’ll be career wise and with grandmami] : 

   CHWE SAINT: 

so for the best part of his life saint was raised with his ‘grandmami’ as he terms her, but she’s better known to the whole island as ajumma solmi. for this reason he’s very doting toward her and a real grandma’s boy. he bakes with her often and they can often be found on street corners selling cheap priced but some of the finest flowers to the citizens because it’s grandmami’s tradition and its mostly done in hope to uplift the islanders and bring joy to their day in a small way and act of love. 

when i say doting i mean doTInG, he will help her in and out of chairs, help her cross streets, hold the groceries for her as she crosses, open doors for her even if grandmami insists he stops fussing because ffs saint ur making me look ancient and i’ll have u know i am still fighting fit and could knock any idiot on his ass with a fliCk of my finger. ajdhf. she is v fiery, if saint is like the picture of elegance and good manners then grandmami is the sTARK contrast. she has one hell of a potty mouth and just a no time for ur shit attitude. if anything saint is keeping her in line, not the other way around. 

his quirk is warp gate. he rlly just uses it to entertain himself mostly and help give his pals quick escapes when a prank of some sort has gone wrong. he can basically create portals out of a dark fog which can either be emitted through his breath or openings at the end of his fingers which he can activate, anyone can also use his portals to travel so long as he’s given them permission.

he just exudes sunshine rlly. is well known round the island for his out of this world smile which has been known to charm many. he is a very eligible and sought after bachelor but saint is like...not interested mostly bc he just like has no romantic awareness ahdhfhf not bc he doesn’t want it. and also bc he doesn’t like the way it’s mostly super young girls and guys just like awestruck by him. it feels a little too much like he’s a collective childhood crush by his groupies so yeah he is OBLIVIOUS. 

very humble and incredibly polite. just really down to earth whenever spoken to but being raised by an elderly person kinda makes u a little outdated, for this reason saint is kind of demure and bad at conversation mostly due to the fact he can easily talk for hours about his plans for baking with grandmami later, the book he read her this morning, the lovely walk they took in that gorgeous spot which he rlly recommends etc but he is god awful at talking about like typical young people stuff. 

lot of ppl think he plays hard to get, this is not true, saint just fr does not know how to fuckin speak and is the most oblivious person in the world to how to flirt, he’s easily flustered but bad at knowing when he’s being flirted with or if this person is just rlly nice and is usually too shy and respectful to rlly push luck by flirting in response hfhfjkg. USELESS. 

very 70′s/80′s aesthetic bby boy, sweet summer child. he is obsessed with old classic black and white films, had a collection before he moved to the island which he misses like everyday but luckily he has memorised ten million quotes. also collected records. obsessed with anything retro, is a collector of gaming merch. but he didn’t get to sneak much to the island :-( the only thing he rlly snuck was a small record stash. liked roller skating, bowling, drive in movies. dresses very retro but refined and classy with lots of layering. rlly good knowledge of classic literature. 

most likely to find him at the arcade in the funzone now on the island, he is a master at all the games but esp the old retro ones, usually goes early morning or late evening so he can spend hours uninterrupted on them and beat his high score everyday a bit more. if not there then he’ll be at zen’s computer gaming instead. he likes all tech really but prefers retro, he’s still figuring out modern. before coming to the island he was rlly getting into VR. if he’s not in either of these places, he’ll be on the beach in a volleyball match or doing a jog. still v much into his sports. 

ultimate sike power cause people think he looks like ur typical jock fuckboy but jokes on u he is pure of heart and dumb of ass himbo just blessed with ethereal looks, he is the breed of good lil boyo and that is all. 

obsessed with milkshakes and popcorn at the diners if he’s ever there u can guarantee that is what he is snacking on or treating himself to. his weakness is churros he fucken thinks that shit SLAPS. he’ll do anything if the prize is churros.  sMH someone help his diet. also loves fiddling with the jukeboxes there ajdjd. 

has two pet geckos one is peach colored and called zelda, the other is black and white leopard spotted and named zeus and he also has a chonk of a fluffy grumpy white cat called yoshi. he is the best. saint is a huge animal lover but probably still not on nyx’s level of dog worshipper. 

weeb. not as big of a one as nyx but he likes haikyuu, kuroko no basket, given, fruits basket, free! and yuri! on ice. he is very into anything that is slice of life or sports anime. 

has the nickname ‘koda’ bc of the movie brother bear, nicknamed after the lil baby bear cause he just reminds people of a baby bear ahdhd. 

he studies art, spends half his life in the studio working, big art nerd. once he gets in the work mode, he just does not stop for anything but water and snacks and goes at it all day into half the night. usually does big projects bc he loves a challenge. mostly paints, sometimes sketches. u know those vids of people mixing paint colors like a swatch of gold and turquoise? saint fuckin loves those so bad unf he does that all the time to calm himself. 

still lives with grandmami currently, he’s looking at getting his own place bc everyone tells him if he ever wants to have his own life then he needs to but he’s just v anxious about leaving grandmami on her own bc she getting older by the day and she’s all he has sO she cannot get hurt!! 

also in a bit of a dilemma with his art bc he kinda wants to make something out of it, like maybe teach some classes sort of thing and use it more as a career but right now he does not have the confidence in his ability and is mostly just doing it for fun and as a calming thing ( he’s an idiot he’s rlly fucken good pls someone make him take himself seriously )

never cusses but does say bitchin a lot, only ever uses fuck in bed basically so if u ever hear him say it then u know something next level has gone down bc saint refuses to swear even if he stubbed his pinky toe.

looks like a cinnamon roll but HE FUCKS!! boy is a kinky freak however saint has no shame or embarrassment like he will discuss it as casually as a discussion of what to have for dinner not bc he is like lewd but purely bc to him its rlly natural and like another form of art and he does not get the embarrassment or secret nature of it all like it is just factual to him that we come into the world like that and ppl enjoy it sometimes ajsj. 

gardening enthusiast!! has a fascination with studying plants and insects tbfh. still uses 70′s and 80′s kewl kid slang like unironically someone help him pls. sjjdjf. cute bonus fact: has freckles all over his shoulders and down his back. UWU. 

COUPLE OF CONNECTION IDEAS OFF THE TOP OF MY HEAD??: 

i would love for him to have a muse for art and/or to be someone’s muse. also and maybe interchangeably someone to kinda be his art mentor and be like saint u could pursue this fr if thats ur dream, then do it pls share this talent dont let ART DIE!!

someone he does gardening and insect studies with who gets his nerdy enthusiasm over it. 

a regular who gets flowers from him and grandmami, maybe he makes a special bouquet for them every day which always has a different meaning in the flower language bc he is soft like that ajjfl

someone who he can take on loads of cute lil platonic diner dinner dates bc he is a huge foodie as we can tell. this one is super fun like I imagine they scam tf outta restaurants that are over priced and for the elite by being like we all kno married couples or people getting engaged, celebrating anniversaries etc tend to get better deals on their meals. so he’s essentially doing this one bc he likes ur muses company and enthusiasm for food but also bc it means cheaper high quality meals for both and a guaranteed good time.

someone to nerd out with him over classic literature or films bc that would be hella cute

maybe someone who is also close with his grandmami and rlly loves spending time with her as well so he kinda trusts them to take care of her and trusts their judgement when they r like saint chill let the lady live okay go and do ur own shit akskf

he usually jogs alone but it would be cool for him to have someone to do that with and like table-tennis and shiz cause he just loves fitness activities and active leisure stuff too. 

maybe someone who is tryna teach him a little more about how to uH TALK LIKE SOMEONE HIS DAMN AGE AND STOP BEING SOME RETRO MAN STUCK IN MODERN TIMES AJDJD

UPDATES:

so a lot about saint hasn’t overly changed because like he just is and has always been a very wholesome laidback boyo but just a few bits of like additional info for his personal growth can be added:

he’s owner and manager of the florist now, grandmami is also there most of the time and handles a lot of stuff when she’s feeling up to it but with her getting more tired more easily from her illness saint needs to head everything really.

he grew up in a neighbourhood on hosu which like consisted of his entire street pretty much being full of his aunts and uncles so now like it’s a street just littered with all his tiny cousins who like to follow him about everywhere and play ball games etc on the street with him and kinda take it over shs. you can hear their joyful playing from like streets over it’s very cute.

his mother gave him up when she realised she was pregnant with him and too young to raise him and that it would hinder her from pursuing the life she wanted with his father. saint doesn’t hold any resentment for her choice, it only bothers him that his grandma has always had a serious illness since the early days of talks of her having no choice but to take him on and that despite this his mother allowed him to be left to her care and another burden on her when she was already so ill.

grandmami is now at a point where she’s hanging in there but she won’t have long left and saint is essentially now her live in carer till her final days which is hard af for him but he refuses to let it show. he’s not sure how he’ll function when he loses her. right now he’s trying to extend the florist business into a wellness one as well and more of an apothecary so he can keep himself stable and busy.

this is more just a cute fun fact but he’s a Christmas Eve baby. uwu lil boyo was born on the night before Christmas bc of course he was sdjdj.

[korra4321]

Epiphany (Gifts sequel)

Word Count:14.5K

Trigger warnings: Violence, strong language , yandere themes 

Teaser :Epiphany is a moment of sudden and great revelation or realization.

Fate really have it twisted way of bringing two broken souls together, the said souls share the copy image view of the world not only mutual understanding but bring out the best in his other half , understand one another with the simplest move , love unconditionally and care for each other like there is no one but them. Soulmate bond that unbroken, soulmate was a whole being divided by two , one soul in two separate bodies.

Korra found on him the companion that she was seeking all the time , someone who understands her no matter how massed up and fucked up she was , the later always understand her , someone who view the world just the same like he was seeing it through her own eyes, he was magical too and he brought a new purpose to her life , he saved her from the bottomless loneliness. Tom found on her everything literally, a savior, a companion, someone like him with extraordinary abilities, she showed him how special he was , cared for him like a human being that he was, he felt gratitude for her first , he wanted to give back to her and protect her that feeling slowly developed to a youthful liking that took an expected turn to become an endless obsession that growth worse day by day.

He called it love and soulmate decided by fate. She called it companionship of no more or less then best friend platonic love.

Korra laid down on her bed, no there bed now that her massed up besitie claimed it as theirs , he was taking a bath in the exact same water she just bathed into it.

She heard him humming a song that she always listen to when she was working and she let her mind roam for a second debating if he always did that in his time in the prison , she though that leaving him there will help him realize that she doesn't have romantic feeling toward him , the only emotions her heart hold for him was platonic one .

But unfortunately it did not help at all, it made him believe she was either :

A)giving him time out as a punishment of not telling her he was Lord Voldemort and not making her involved in the purge as her right for being his soulmate

B) transferring there relationship to the state of long distance one to taste his ability for it which he proved to be idealist one

Even direct method of communication like talking her feeling toward him to make it loud and clear made the latter believe she was denying her feeling and too afraid to let herself being loved and love someone , loving her soulmate, he claimed that she have Philophobia . He called himself her medicine that will cure her of that phobia.

She sighed making herself in the fetus position , as she deeply analyzed trying to see from when and where he started loving her and having that 'we are soulmate' delusion .

Usually adolescence start having crushes around fourteen years old the average age where puberty happen , the awkward stage of leaving the childhood and entering the mystery land of teenage years that will be the gate to adulthood the current state of which both of them where now , they are doomed to stay in it for evermore .

"Fucking horcruxes" Korra scowled her tone dripping loath for whoever had a hand in letting him know about it , she never felt the desire to rip one throat with her bare teeth or the desire to curse him down with all the unforgivable curses respectfully in sequence .

In her fetus position she froze down at the idea, at the train of thought and where it landed her. She was thinking just like him, the ill intention to cause harm and unmentionable thing to an innocent.

Maybe just maybe they were .... alike?

‘No...I am not the same as someone who torment ,kill and destroy pure people life .’ She buried her face in the pillow deeper , letting the soft cushion consume all of her face , needed to let it block her though

How dare she let herself to even think they were the same? Next thing she knew that she would believe that they were product of fate design, the two shards of the same entity... soulmates.

Whoever said that one mind can be it worse enemy is truly man of wisdom. Even if the said wisdom applies to her right now, it's a sword with two different blades, her ally and her foe.

She could use it as weapon if she played her cards right. She can be free in no time and she could run away from him if she pretended that his ' treatment ' is curing her of her blindness of the indisputable truth.

'and then when he see I view him as a soulmate, I will run away when he give me freedom, when he trust me blindly ' Her mind was being her ally right now , Lady luck was on her side , her lady hope persona may lost the battle but there is war left , there is fire left on her that didn't die .

The door of the bathroom slightly opened leaving a crack that let the steam escape and the scented candles with lavender to spread into the air. And his humming stopped.

"Korra dear? Is everything alright there?" His voice was worried with no other trace of emotion there, just filled with worry.

"Yes Tom, everything is right, did something happened?" She matched his voice.

The crack spread more allowing for his wet head to be seen, and that smile to be fully displayed on it glory ,"it just that I heard you saying, " he paused for a few seconds allowing himself to perfectly mimic her words like a passage of speech from president himself. "Fucking horcruxes" his smiled forsaken for a smirk . "Darling you can't ..have an intercourse of that type with a container ...but if you feel...." Korra who's face exploded with red had avoided eye contact with him and rushed to cut his sentence. "No! I..don't want that ..." He chuckled softly , like she made an inside joke . "I know you don't want it ....now ....you are just saving yourself up for our wedding" His eyes had hunger look into them as he slowly closed the door.

Leaving her a mess of red and heat, while he returned to his humming that followed by more tone of euphoric.

She really needed to get out of that place.

As a mocking from fate her eyes landed on the pillow form the living room, she didn't know why it was there but the writing on it mocked her

{HOME SWEET HOME}

It's like a butcher welcoming a livestock before ending them for good.

She stepped out of the bed, but remembered the masks, she looked at them.

Lord Voldemort persona was staring at her with unforgiving stare promising chaos to whoever breathed an insult directly or indirectly to her or him, to any and every no magical human to make them existent from the word of living.

Her eyes drafted slightly to the right.

Lady Hope is antonym of her counterpart, her eyes brought mercy and hope to the suffering survivors, a reminder of the light side that still exist.

Anyone in their right mind will see that they were the opposite, foes made to destroy one another. Light vs dark in their form of materialistic.

But not to him of course.

Tom Marvalo Riddle was soaking wet in the bathtub He couldn't help but to feel rush of adrenalin through his vines.

That smirk was still in his lips. The masks were even more proof of their love.

Lord Voldemort destroy the enemy while Lady Hope cure the falling of their side both mentally and physically like the ancient Yin and Yang, one can cease to exist without the other, they need each other to survive.

Why she was so confused and misguided by those muggles ? His teeth chatting and his jaw clinched. The rotten muggles made her filthy . How dare they firstly to drive her away from her world that rightfully belong to her by their nasty spawn of Satan that doesn't have the ghost of claim to magic that preserved only for pureblood no they stole magic from them no claiming to claim something is to have an ownership right for it ,secondly they made her live among them doing low job that barley cover the bills ?

In infuriating he ran his hands through his long hairlines, he recalled that she would return them to their original length just the same length she putted will he did what he always does, impressive her.

He breathed in more of that scented smell of lavender, he noted to himself that in the manor he bought for them and just them he will grow lavender in the garden and more lovely flowers so when she walk the pathway it always have a scent she liked.

He has millions and more scenarios of their eternal life together, he had one year of isolation to plan it and write it down on the diary, even living them in his slumber.

He heard the sound of a door opening and he was half expecting that she will be joining him, he embraced himself to feel her body heat against his and move his body to the side of the bathtub making space for her and he moved a finger and music began a pleasing song filled the atmosphere but the bathroom door was not the one who opened that the bedroom one .

Korra was on the hallway , it was still Halloween night she called hear children screaming with enjoyment "trick or treat", she looked at the window and saw youngsters wearing cosplays of their favorite characters even that one of them even wore a suit and claimed to be bodyguard for his sister that wore a simple regular custom resemble modern princess. she got an instant flashback at the sign of the two.

It was Tom first year Halloween with her and she wanted to give him as normal childhood as someone like him called. Blaz was waiting for them at the living room to get ready for the ancient act of trick and treat.

"Are you sure you want to be wearing suit? I don't mind it but it's your choice " he simply nods and flashed her a lovely smile. "Yes bestie, I am really sure also I read in a book that cliché is overrated so why not use something new?" The boy that too mature for his age said , Korra theorized that his suffering and tormenting that he faced in the orphanage led him to be this developed in his mind but they say that trauma build the character ,it's a sacrifice of innocent for the gain of knowledge.

Korra left him to change to her custom in her room . the boy mentally scolded, he never liked this 'Blaz' , but for her he will pretend that he tolerate him until he find the perfect method to get him to leave them alone .he looked at himself on the mirror .the reflection showed his dark hair gracing his childhood feathers and his dark eyes matched the occasion and the suit that he insist on wearing will give an effect on anyone to not talk down to him.

After couple of minutes Korra come back wearing regular clothes that was not addressing the holiday at all, he extended his hand to her like a young gentleman , korra though he was being in the character so she took his hand into hers and they wordlessly went downstairs to join Blaz . The man jumped to his feet from seeing that she was not dress up and he was wearing skeleton custom . "You...you didn't dress up?" Blaz voice filled with disappointment as his eyes traveled between his custom and her regular everyday clothes . She shrugged "I am going in as a background character they don't dress shiny like the protagonist and antagonist, just normal to blend in" she took a good look at his custom and an idea popped into her head ." I can be the previous you ... Living just before death" Tom hand on her squeeze and he bite his lips making them thin line, just the idea of losing her to death was unbearable , he hated how death means separation of loved one, in his orphanage days he was starved out of love and caring that he craved so frantically, just because he was different than others doesn't mean he didn't yearn for his basic human right of emotional containing. That made him attached to her as she was the sole survivor with him after the apocalypse.

"And Tom? let me guess a high lord of a previous lifetime?" Blaz voice may come as cheery for others but to him it's as irritating as sharp nails on a chalkboard. He just couldn't wait to get him out of the picture. It took Tom a maximum of five seconds to put his fake tolerance for Blaz to display. His vocal was so calm and soft as his dark eyes held warmth of the sun in a winter morning "You can say so , but in fact I am korra's bodyguard...she may say she's a background character for someone story but for me she’s the heroine in my book" his eyes captivated with real emotions of gratefulness as he continues with charming tone ." She's my savior" with a kiss on her hand he finished.

"Tom....that’s too much .... You are too much of a true gentleman now " Korra who can't remember the last time someone made positive remark on her maybe it was when she worked in the ministry when Jonathan Morgenstern an aurora made a mistake of practicing magic to let out a fire when he was camping during his vacation unaware of unwanted attention of a muggle who was hiking which led the wizard to ask the ministry to send an obliviter to fix his undone, he called her in a friendly comment a light giver due after obliviating the muggle she didn't forget to bring with her a light to help him start a bonfire. That nickname become her code name after the accident .

"No bestie I am telling the truth....is that a tear?" Indeed she had a silent tear on her eyelids , "yes, something went into my eyes I think it was an eyelash" she was not lying completely since one was on her eyes and she had a tear because of the impact pf his words on her , it was fate giving her a merciful look.

"Let me rub it out for you" before she can protest he reach out his hand that she knelt to his head level allowing him to get the stubbornly eyelash for her but instead of dismissing it with his hand the boy put it on his hand palm . "Bestie what are you doing?" Korra was concerned that he will practice magic Infront of Blaz. "It's a saying in a folklore that if you put an eyelash on your hand and made a wish it will become true , come one bestie make a wish for me"

The woman mumbled lowly out of Blaz earshot but in Tom's one "I wish that we will stay best friends forever " and then she bellowed. ----- When they walked from house to house that was decorated for the night of the mythical creatures, enjoying the peaceful night without any accident until one that nearly ruining the night for them had happened . They were walking to the last house of the night when the one responded to the door ball was an obese man with his double chin and obvious vines that was nearly everywhere and his smell was straight out of butcher as he smelled of livestock fat and tissues , his eyes was too inside of him that he had to widen them to get great view opened the door. "Trick or treat" Tom said as he felt the weight of his bag full of sweets from the night . The man that awfully reminded anyone looking at him of a pig grinned as he looked above and behind Tom shoulders to Korra, his hands around the glass bowl he was holding tightened while colors of deep red exploded on his face he licked his lips as saliva escaped his mouth . "Oh dear lord knows I don't mind trick ...private trick from her " his tone heavy with unmistakable lust as he made clear with his eyes what type of tricks he seek from her . Blaz didn't get the time to respond to the direct verbal sexual harassment when it happened.

The bowl in the human pig hands exploded candies falling like tiny rain of child dream on the small area between them ,shards of glass entering the man body piercing his skin do deep that it surprised Blaz with how deep the shards buried into the man that they disappeared in him like pins hanging on a jacket not a living body , but that didn't shock Blaz more than the fact that in nothing but a miracle when the bowl exploded a wind blowing from behind them protected them from the shards . The pigman face was stuck on shook as he shaking tried to take out the shards with his fat fingers but in pointless efforts he failed , then his eyes widened even more that it was semi cartoonist as his bloody hands went to the place his heart was and it looked like he was having a heart attack but in fast and extremely misery and just like a pig he made a final cry that literally sounded like the said animal and he dropped dead.

What happened after it was the classic of making sure that Tom was fine as the later took the opportunity to hug her and bury his face into her claiming to be shocked by the tragic and trauma death that happened before his innocent child eyes, as Blaz dialed the police and ambulance informing them of the accident ,Tom was glad that the hug give him the cover for that dark grin on his face . He was wearing the suit suitable for a bodyguard...savior his extraordinary abilities helped him to live as the role ...her savior and not just for one night for all their life together.

Korra was back to the present time with feeling of his arms around her torso and hot breath on her ears as he whispered" do you remember that night? That pig of a man ...?" The edge of his voice was merciless ,his arms stiffed but didn't feel like the force that will case a break more like borderline feeling of a snake closing itself around her waist in a light hug . "Now that I think about it his death was....easy , I should have tortured him more , by that time I didn't realize the disturbing truth of his words I thought it was just trying to make you do a trick without me , I got this feeling of heavy burn inside me and then you saw what happened, if that happened now... " Still he didn't press harder on her torso but his chin rested on her shoulder and she saw scarlet on his orbs , mad with rage at the mere thought of dead man. his eyes softened when he saw that she was looking at his reflection. "Sorry love for that " he let her go only to take her hand and led her to the bedroom where a scissor lied on the table waiting to be used , a faint glow on the edge told her it was magical enchanted just like everything else in the house .he sat on at the chair and she knew what he wanted , that damn hair.

She realized a sign if she wanted to gain his trust and escape to the ministry of magic she will have to play the role . ---- "I am never a chief but at least let's try it" He made for them a dish that she didn't bother to look at it but when he sat the plate to her with a wave of his hands she saw it was a simple parmesan chicken . "Bone Appetit" he said as they began their meal, Korra found it mystery how he was still having a appetite after ordering Nagini to eat the shop owner but again that was just a drop of the black sea of his mistakes that she wanted to fix, she refused to accept the fact that her bestie is now someone that obsessed with her and claim it as love , for a second she paused as she realize that it was love and she knew it but he have his way of showing it that made the line between friendship and romantic relationship to be questionable. She forced herself to eat not wanting to know what he will do if she didn't.

Being done eating he waved again but this time the dishes disappeared in favor of bottle of wine and two glasses. "A toast for our eternity together" he raised his glasses and she knew that she have to do her part of the tradition. "For our eternity" 'until I escape to the ministry ' and there was nothing but the sound of their glasses cracking .

---- They were laying on the bed with a book on her lap as she was reading and he was following making comments on how the characters were predictable and nothing new happen. As if he's complaining was a cue an owl dropped a letter to his lap. He led go of the hand that was holding his before flashing her an apologetic smile and opened the letter.

{Done} with no sender information at all.

Korra didn't remove her eyes away from the book "you are right they are so foreseeable" he kissed her head ,"I love when you admit I am right ....maybe that's will make you see how deeply I am willing to go for you , purging the wizarding society is just a tip of what I am capable of and how far I will go for you" his voice was one of those who have a sugar rush . "Muggles need us the same way we need them..."she firmly said ,he took a deep breath "we don't need them at all, they can't use magic to safe one of their loved one dying or even to simply left an object ....they drove you away from where you truthy belong " his tone hold grudges as if he was born for it . "I left because it became toxic with all the pureblood maniacs " he paused looking at her in disbelief. She took at as signal to continue " I mean I know a lot of muggle born who are brilliant with a lot of potential unlike some purebloods who have squib in their family " she grinned falling victorious . "The only reason for squib to happen is because a mudblood took the said squib , muggles are nothing but kelptomaniacs that need to be punished for the crime of taking what not belonging to them" that victory in her died at his reply, she knew that there is no point on keeping this conversation going. "Five" he said with a silky voice . In puzzling state of mind she looked at him . There is no need to ask as he understood her without talking . "Each single time you defend those low life of mudblood and muggles I will end five of them, the ratio will vary it can be five kids , five men, five elders , five women , a twin child and woman and two men , or to make the odd preferable five pregnant women so that bonus " He said that with a teasing amount of causality like he was reading a newspaper . "You can't do that....think about how Blaz will feel" a finger on her chin forced her to have eye contact with that flame of hell . "Don't you dare to say any male name around me .... especially Blaz he was the worst , really he need to be learn to mind his own business and he had absolutely no respect for personal space " he silenced himself to collect air in his lungs. "He was my secret keeper and you know what his death did , it was what made my existence return to the wizarding world " hint of regret was on her voice but she didn't take her eyes of his bluntly to keep that fact buried into his mind.

"You do realize that they have a shorter lifespan then us, why not choosing a wizard to be the secret keeper? “he was not complaining but did she really disliked to that level how toxic the situation of blood state was? This time she avoided eye contact with him "it's felt the only way to truthy have nothing left to come back to that society" What do they say about anyone who avoided eye contact when he in the middle of a conversation?, Clear sign of a lie . He smugly grinned at the conclusion that she had something that will always connect her to the that world. He just needed to find it, he had that ambition that he wanted no, eager to clarify the fog of mystery surrendering his soulmate past. "You know , lovely angel , you never told me about your time as a witch save being an obliviter I want to know facts like your magical state , what you did in Hogwarts ?, If you had any childhood friend or took solace in being friends with books?" He freed her chin of his finger to lean back to the head of the bed to observe every single move she makes. She felt a knot in her throat, her past was nothing, but song of loneliness played with melody of tragedy. She was a love child of misfortune and loss,

"At a very young age I learned that nothing good last forever "

Her very first memory is this, It was her seventh birthday with her parents they were celebrating it in the forest surrender by a lot of creatures, her father holding her to reach a tree branch where a small nest had bird that was too shy to go and see what the world have to offer, "daddy he is so shy , he won't take the worm from me" her tiny voice hold disappointment, her father slowly lowered her back to the ground fearing that a rush will harm her , "sweet one , it's too early for him to step out of his safety shell to the outside " he kissed his daughter head. Her mum was setting on a rug that they brought with them that on it their lunch and a simple cake for three , her skin glowed attractively in the sun light her brown hair gracefully freefall on her without any style to keep their beauty away. The little girl walked to her mother that embraced her so tightly as she whispered to her "Happy birthday" her father who had black hair and heterochromia eyes , one was grey the other hazel, he was watching the scene with butterflies on his stomach, how lucky he is to get both a beautiful wife and lovely daughter it was so contiguous euphoric like a scene a painted by an artist of what the first minutes in heaven like. The girl remembered a trick she can do but it required a baby animal such as a bunny or hare . "Mommy , daddy I am going to show you something really cool just wait for me" Her mother had a book in her lap and her father laid down looking at the clouds telling his wife the shapes they remind him off , her mother extracted her wand from her pocket. "Expecto Patronum" from her wand busted a silver ghostly runespoor, it's three head tall with pride and in that sunlight it give him a glow of grace . "I will protect you " it was awkward to hear her mom voice from the Patronus but she got used to it from the second time , Patronus are meant to be guardians even companions for the lonely souls, never she felt the intense feeling of her blood turning ice on her vines from the terror of the runespoor Infront of her , she found him comfortable and favorable to have around when her parents where working, call it a questionable choice of babysitter but the three head serpent was her only friend ,they were living on a shack in the forest it was not fancy neither in poor condition but perfect for the small family with no civilian only for a small town that was miles away what was it name? Little Hangleton.

It's a small town actually with nothing of interest, the family lived in peace away from the anything that was civilian, self-sustaining themselves form the little garden they have and a nearby river. They had jobs small one in the town enough to get them by and never to let them feel short hand and waiting from pay check to another . It's was all so peaceful and paradise like. It was too good to be truth, too good to be left without darkness tinting it .

Korra went deeper to that forest not lost due to the the patronus keeping a clever watch and map of the soul to its caster ,when she didn't only find a bunny but a wounded child around eight years old . "You don't look so good " she draw closer to him , now that she was closer she took a good look at him , curly platinum hair and strange purple eyes , albino?, And a gashes covering his body he was bleeding heavily. "I am on my way " again the patronus spook with that voice . "What happened to you?" Her curiosity was over the roof . "I...I was attacked by a wild creature I don't remember it's shape it was fast...so fast and brutal he left me to die as you see “the child spook with wary voice . "My mom is coming to help, my name is Korra" all what she can do is to speak to him to keep him awake. "Nice name for a nice child, mine is Godric, tell you what we are going to be friends , actually we already are "he give her a little smile as his lips managed to part. The girl eyes widened , "friends ?, Really ...I have no friends like living flesh and bone one" she didn't have any at all the town people didn't have any child as if they were so afraid to bring any to the world due to the economic crisis that was going on yet they give her parents looks she didn't understand and her looks of discomfort and pity but to finally have a friend it was an experience that she longed for , she read about it in books and always longed for someone to call a friend other than runespoor . "Korra dear , step aside I want to aid the child " her mom took out her wand and the tip of her wand touched the child body. In a blink of eye, a heartbeat ,the boy vanished , long gone his aurban locks and purple eyes , now standing on all four a creature of darkness and eyes of the devil , lava like eyes glowing with bleeding red , and his voice bottomless hole it must be what an vengeance will be like if it had a voice , his teeth so sharp it was surprise it didn't cut that long tongue . "I knew I will find a Huffman here ...not one but two my dark lord Grindelwald will be so pleased " he snicker , her mom come in front of her shielding her . "Go and tell your lord that he can make love to himself that all I care about " her wand never left her hand as she throws a hex at him , he judge with a jump upwards , it was thing of wonder how a being of that mass is able to move with such agility and in a blink of eye landed behind them , the patronus sprinted attacking at the same time that her mother made a protection charm to her daughter not caring for her safety , the creature went invisible the same minute the patronus hit him and dismissing into thin air .

"We are friends korra just you and your mommy come with me to the dark lord" he mocked ,voice coming from everywhere and nowhere . "Think about what your place will be with my Lord , your daughter too, you are wasting away all your potential and abilities here " a shift in the branch of nearby tree made her mother send a hex at it . The jinx hit the tree with but no monster was on it . It was right next to her child, who was shaking . 'f....friend .monster. They do this...trying to kidnapped their friend to a bad guy....I don't want that ' Her daughter magic core what in chaos and the aura around it growing viciously , repealing against the protection charm , creating an orb of gray cocoon . Her mother was torn between keeping her daughter save and calming her and defeating the monster. The creature open his mouth so wide but it was not the teeth to be terrified off, it's spitted a texture liquid and sticky it rained from his mouth like riddle of bullets at them , but before it can touch any one of them it froze . His body abruptly vibrated brutally , and like a fireworks it explode . Korra magic murdered him. Her mother was caught off guard, her daughter was more powerful then she thought she need to learn to stabilize that magic before wrong hand find her . She rushed to her hugging her , " I am so sorry you had to witness that, so sorry for what happened , you are alright right ?" She briefly scanned her daughter, wide teary eyes, and shock on her face. "Mom is that what friend do..." It was not a question, a broken statement. "No.....they do this " the monster voice raged again with a tone that will hunt her for the rest of her life . Her mom eyes froze when she realized what the creature actually was .... It was ultio. Ultio was the worst ever, it should never ever be killed, once he is dead, he literally brings his murderer down with him to the grave. There was only one way to survive. "I love you " she kissed her daughter check and hugged her so tightly shielding her from what was happening . She heard to sound of blood spilled and tissues of body ripped off as the creature killed her mom and was gone with her. One Huffman was gone , another shocked to the core . Her mother sacrifice made the girl to be invincible and untouched by any dark force.

Her father grows worried from not seeing anyone return as he felt heavy silence, even the birds were silent, he just woke up from a nap. "Love, Korra??" The cake and food were left untouched, again no answer. He felt string leading him forward to the deeper part of the forest. The deeper he got the more the lack of sound become ominous. Until he saw the scenery.

A bony body hugging a frozen bloody living one , and the hair covering the girl become red with blood . He lost it. ----- "Daddy I am so sorry...I wanted to show you and me....why aren’t you looking at me?" Her father was gone in his mentally and it had been days since that cursed day, be barley ate , slept that was when he was home , when he was not he drowned himself in work ,locked the house on his daughter who desperately needed someone to calm her from all the mental attacks she have , there was no runespoor anymore to keep her company, no friend , not a soul but her and his dad who is mentally dead ,refusing to accept it , part of him died with his wife he couldn't bear to look at his daughter she was the spilling image of his late wife, not acknowledge her , like she died with her mother. For four years she didn't hear her father voice at all, just crying and ugly whining. She never spoke during that four years at all , so when an owl appeared dropping a letter of acceptance to Hogwarts ,like a robot her father moved his eyes hallow and took her to get her things for the school . --- Now they were at the train express , families where hugging their children goodbye promising to exchange letters , her father gaze to the unseen as he just waved goodbye. She didn't bother to wave back at all.

"Salvatore ,Korra Salvatore" the sorting hit said her name , she walked toward it ,not caring which house she will be into , the hat was putted on her head . "You are unique one here, not many like you , I can name very few who share the same magical core like you ...I see intelligence and bookworm Ravenclaw will be great for you... But you are loyal and love fair play ...it's equal the traits of the two houses on you hmm it's difficult for you ...is that a trace of .... oh, my let it be ... Hufflepuff!" The said house clapped and giving her a warm welcome , she didn't feel a string even when curious eyes looked at her wondering what the sorting hat was going to say as he cut himself off before announcing her house . Time passes and she never gained any friend , she didn't want another Godric she wanted her mother back she wanted her father back from the dead , it's like she become orphan losing them both . Soon even her house learned to leave her alone she was shut down of the world it's all black and grey no white that white left along with runespoor that patronus friend , she never spoke a word unless it's absolutely necessary and to cast a spell other time they thought that she was mute , but as more news come by about the dark lord and people more and more terrified, her sleep had a lot of nightmare surrounding by one word Grindelwald, what was that wizard and why he wanted her and her mother so badly ?, It's definitely have to be about her family from her mother side. In one evening her mother made her promise that she will never ever tell anyone she was Huffman rather than she was a Salvatore from her father side , she didn't know why but she made that promise without asking . Her father had no family at all, he was orphan didn't have a foster family. Her mother never told her about her family or even if she has one . Still the mystery around that Grindelwald and her family hunted her , she wanted answer and a book in the restricted section will contain the answer. But all what she had to do is to one of the perfect students to be able to get access there. So becoming teacher pet and bookworm she was her approach .around the time that her pairs where getting hormonal she was ignoring all the looks of admiration that she got from boys , she felt gross by it , no one will deny that she was beautiful .she never let herself feel the need to have a friend let alone lover .was she asexual aromatic? She didn't care at all to leave her heart open to anyone . she found solace in the darkness , in the middle of the night one day she realized she was nyctophile , that was when a teacher asked randomly if a student preferred light or darkness more if they preferred sun time or moon time since that cursed day of her mother untimely passing and she avoided everything that reminded her of it , even light .she felt her light wither fading more into a grey one .

"Listen today lesson is about casting a Patronus " she temporary froze as if she was stunned by stupefy, the others didn't give her a mind . "To conjure it you have to think of a memory that make you happy , feel you with joy " she felt sick on her stomach .

"Good job Felix of Slytherin. Your Patronus is a stage that quite amazing...Miss Salvatore you are next " Korra knew what will happen before hand , she rise her wound looking at her wand tip and said the spell, nothing at all not even a spark or pity excuse of smoke. "Thing of a happy memories dear " then she doesn't recall what happened but when she come by her class was terrified and she was quickly dismissed of the class.

----- It's he fourteen birthday, she was setting with a teacher in her office. "I am so sorry for your loss dear , you must have been so close to him that his loss affected your magic that day" she felt her teacher words of condolences . When she got that letter that day she didn't feel anything negative more like relief that her father joined her mother , at least he was happy there and content . Not her , she never smiled at all , she looked to be more suitable to be Lady of darkness then light .

"......" "I understand your grief I am here for you " "He was dead long time ago" her tone was colder and lack the care. She left her teacher stunned as she exists the room.

Korra was not completely unaware of her surrounding she just knew the elephant in the room when it comes to wizarding society was always blood state . She was half blood , she didn't know about her mother blood state if she was pure or not , but it was unfair that a teacher will be extra careful marking muggle born and careless when marking pure blood, and the bullying was so unbearable for those muggle born , from calling them mudblood to physical beating . It was unjustified at all, it had to be stopped no one was doing anything like it was the norm , even when a first year was being cornered by a pack of fourth years . It's the harsh reality of that world, she told herself that she will try to make them say what they were doing was wrong but the only way for it was if she had a high position in the ministry of magic.

On her sixteen birthday she found the answer, the restricted section illuminated by her wand the light casted shadows in her face among with the darkness of the night made the scene to be out of a mystery movie , the book of about every magical family that existed. 'H for Huffman ' she found her family from her mother side . 'Huffman have a long and interested origin , they began in the early dawn of the magical history ,legend says this that a Huffman witch found an injured animal(tale varies about the animal type some says it's a dove , dire wolf, phoenix, cat or another animal )  on the blink of death ,no passerby spare the dying animal any glance , the Huffman witch who had heart of gold took the animal in and spend countless of night nursing it back to health in the expense of her what little of supply she had and time , once the animal is back healthy , the unexpected happened , it's turned out to be an divine being. "Congrats dear witch , you are the only one who passed the test" the holy creature said his voice was so captivating and delightful. The witch was catch up by the creature ethereal beauty and light . "You and your entire bloodline will be blessed , you will have the full package, beauty , wealth , talents, abilities and luck, I have been testing witch community to see who will earn my blessing" the witch didn't approve or disapprove she tough that she died nursing the creature and this was her going through the afterlife ,but a light touch on her check told her it was real ."thanks but I was doing the right thing ", the angelic beamed. "It's a gift ,pure lady ". Korra couldn't finish reading the rest of the tale . She just closed it , tears on her eyes and onerous in her stomach. Her mother died because of a legend , and she knew that Grindelwald won't rest until he get a Huffman to join him but why he couldn't get another one or went on a hot pursue for them earlier ? If her bloodline was that of a jewel for a crown, why no one mentioned them earlier? What she believes will answer her questions have risen more questions than satisfied her. She closed the book and returned to her dorm.

The next morning she found a ray of hope when she heard that Grindelwald was captured and for the first time since more than half her life she smiled and the words that lift her lips were one of kind . "Fuck you Grindelwald" and a sea of shocked wizards and witches looked at her . ----- When she graduated from Hogwarts she got a lot of work offers from everyone who had a high position in the society , the thing is she never learned how to use that 'blessed' side since her mother didn't tell her how to use it , the only thing that was default was the looks . She didn't care about wealth since she was not one to spend it on trivia things. The only job she accepted was the obliviter position in the ministry of magic , she became obliviter for the hope to be promoted to higher position that will let her voice be heard about the racism unethical practice . It's funny to be memory wiper when you are yourself hunted and broken by your past . But as time process by and more years flew by that hope died on her , it transformer into dark void in the black hole of herself, they didn't care , they accepted the fact that it's written on stone , you see when generation rise a generation it's rise them on the previous learning that they got from the generation who risen them and the generation that is being risen will sink in the learning in like a sponge in its mindset and being risen to care more about blood state then potential is one of those things. So it was no surprise when she quit her job and moved into muggle world .

She never realized just how lonely she was until one day when it was December and numerous people pass by congratulating each other for the upcoming Christmas , a child walked to her being so full of the spirit and congrats her for it . "Lady, I hope you have a Joyful Christmas with your family and friends" Friends....she had none she couldn't even conjure the spell that heavy emphasis on happy memories. Friends were not for her , ' they either turn out to be server of the dark or one that prejudge so much ...they are risen like this ......risen wait ... Why not adopt one and mold him into a friend that is what I seek for , what I lost, who accept me for being who I am ?' It was the only option she had , all the others was unfavorable as the old saying say beggars can't be choosers. Desperate time lead to desperate methods and outcomes. Before she knew she was standing in front gates of wool's orphanage.

"And that lead us to where we are now, bestie " she dropped the last word like a spokesperson dropping the mic after victorious speech.

The dark lord was in utopia , it just couldn't get any better, every single peace for the puzzle fall together creating the perfect picture, fate really outdone herself in this love story it’s a masterpiece , he was broken by his past just like her ,he saw how the society was toxic ,they were half-bloods her family from her mother side was pure blood descended from the origin of Helga Hufflepuff  his from mother side rooted from Salazar Slytherin , both of their fathers were unfortunately muggles , he will forgive fate for making them muggle , also they come from the same village, what a wonderful gift to have two decedent from two out of four now dead houses to be soulmates? it must be that their ancestors were one too, and that the great Salazar went mad when a muggle tried to take his other half away from him, it all fit perfectly fine, she was expert in advanced level of magic just like him , safe that she is so shy to show it off.

Korra knew from how she found his arms around her waist and his lips on her that his obsession have grown worse , she told him her entire background to give him window on herself a chance to let him see that she’s beginning to heal and see him as what he saw her, a step to her freedom.

so, when his kisses become more demanding and hungrier, she gives in.

----

its bright afternoon when his hand sneaked like spider legs from her back to rest at her shoulders and he printed a kiss on her cheeks before saying in nobbling words "love its time" she nearly dropped her calm facade, time for what? there weeding or to do the traditional purposing to her?, only one way to find out.

"what is it time for? Beloved one" she forced the words out of her lips, its worse than the fresh memory of that creature and its acid rain.

"to move to our new home" she looked at him like he was having a second face behind him , he adored every single expression she was making except the painful one , a pure lightness like her way not allowed to have a painful look, it's ruin that perfection on her esthetic face , he careless toyed with a hair lock , speaking about expression he was lately wondering about the type of faces she will be making from the gift he got for her. "But our belongings, we can't leave them" ‘oh sweet angel you really are worried about muggles devices  aren't you.’ "I took good care of them " As they existed the place Korra with their luggage that was magical transformed to their new home , he just had to be extra dramatic and burn the house down, he smiled as he cut down the last string that pinned her to the muggle world, there was truthy no turning back now, not when the orphanage that they crossed by was with ear tearing screams of agony. -------- The marble floor felt pleasing against her bare feet , in other life she showing more awe for that manor or mansion that was her new home ,every single detail was phenomenal , what is it with dark lord ,heir of Slytherin and incredible taste? , It's like she was in heaven. Heaven..... No heaven was worth the price of one freedom and free will.

"I told you I can give you the world and more , here it is, just name the thing and in a snap of a finger it's yours" he purred seductively. She had to remind herself to earn his trust to get a chance of that sweet freedom . She run her finger to the outline of his sharp jawline and stood up on we toes the same way he was kneeling to her level , arms around her waist to give her access to his ear . "I already have everything I want " her whisper send shiver to his spine and goosebumps to his skin . "Precious one , you don't have the tinniest idea of what you are doing to me now " his dark eyes landed in hers as his thumb found her lips gently running to her upper one . --- As she took a bath , it was out of blue , a lightbulb opened in her mind and then Epiphany happened , her heart nearly stopped when a sense of revelation washed on her .

He needed her more than air , his soulmate She needed him her one true friend , obsessed and all but he understood her at the bottom of his heart. Messed up relationship but fate granted her that wish. They were part of each other that forever intertwined, tangled and become one.

Speaking about fate she wanted to know why her out of everyone had to be his....

A knock on the bathroom door made her flinch , the level of the water that was crowned with petals of rare flowers rose higher then it's container level. "My lady I am so sorry to disturb you in your  time of showring but he told me he have present for you " she was glad it was not Tom voice rather a house elf one ,if her memory serves her right she will safely recall the name of Delphine for the voice owner . "It's alright Delphine thanks for telling me that" she knew that he send her to send curiosity in her to see him and know what is the present was, sneaky one isn't he, she got dressed he made sure that all of her wardrobe had luxuries clothes from every item manmade ,they had to be highest of the high end or else in his eyes it will not do her right, his wardrobe is not of a differ from hers , she settled for a simple yellow summer dress and a high socks to cover her knees , she will never wear anything short when he is in her radar.

"Precious one, you don't have the tinniest idea of what you are doing to me now "

his voice sink on her, she will never wear any short that exposes her skin, not that she was a fan of short clothes to begin with.

the marble floor welcomed her feet as the house elf led her to the garden, more accuracy one of the gardens. The ridiculous size of the land was as if it was a small country of its own and here is, he the man of the question standing and giving her a bow before claiming her hand and planting a kiss on it.

"I missed you" 

"I was in the bath for twenty minutes, Riddle" his lips twisted.

"lovely angel, you don't have to remind me of the agonistic amount I was not around you" there is a lock for doors for a reason and it’s to keep the lovesick away.

she saw a box, its green color had yellow ribbons on its surface cycling it like a snake, even the house elf can tell why he chose those colors. His thumb flirt with her hand as he rubs on them, liking her body heat.

"I love the feeling of our skin together its feels right" and she longed to be contained but not like that, it’s wrong on all the right places, right on the wrong reasons.

"I am here for the present, curiosity is killing me" god by the time she escapes she will have a lifetime to spend on therapist and that therapist will need another one for himself after every session with her.

he give her a worried glance and his tone heavy with concern "my one, don't you say or suggest something like that ever again, I can’t live with the idea of losing you " she was not imagining the wet tear on his eyes , out of habit she put her hand wiping it out, out of nature he take that hand press it on his cheek before leading it to his lips and kissing it. with his extended long arm he retrieve the box, when she put distance between them he gesture for her to open it , and when she does she is captured by the present beauty.

Salazar Slytherin locket had never shined so brightly like it did in that light "you like it don't you?" her eyes had been captured by the locket and he took his sweet time glancing at every detail of her face, "its mesmerizing"

"just like you" lord have mercy, smooth one she will give him that

"turn around" he ordered.

she obeyed and his long thin fingers skillfully opened the lock and he putted it on her, it felt so right and marvelous.

"I have another present for you".

----

Azkaban eerie atmosphere screamed death and doom, it was home for him, forced to call it home after spending more than decade in it he felt strange link to it ,Grinderwarld face has aged but his feathers was still identifiable as what he was. A dark lord.

memories of his region of terror hang beyond his inner mind, his goals of making wizards and witches a superior to muggles as if it supposed to be, his only key to make that noble dream to come true lay no other than Huffman's ,this unique and sacred bloodline have unimaginable powers that no warlock or the darkest wizards could even dream off, but the dispute pose within that they are cleverly vanished from the history like they were a myth, a fragment of one imagination or even made up legend of a story to be told in a lazy winter night to children.

when he finally discovered how they managed to remain under the radar he wanted to slap the back of his head in shame, a secret keeper that pass before death the secret of the bloodline existence to another secret keeper ,foxy way to disappear but it’s not safe from the short stick of the said secret keeper untimely death, this is how they returned to existence, all what left was to find only one of them to join him, he place off lots of his followers to different places in hope to catch a wind of one of them, the more time it took the deeper his desire turned deadly , forget deathly hollows ,Huffman were the real deal, soon his fascination turned into obsession ,its forbid him from resting until he got one Huffman into his army , no it didn't matter the age , gender or blood state of the said Huffman.

He have two different aims to fulfill , firstly to get Lady Macy Galen (Korra mom) as his wife and queen, secondly to make wizards superior, ever since he met her and all what he could think off was her, his time with her as her fellow student of Beauxbatons academy of magic and they could get a future that will be envied by others, all was good until she fall in love with that muggle , he went basilisk and nearly killed him if it was not for his best friend Dumboldore stopping him, Dumboldore who is now six feet under the dirt and dead ,just like Macy .

he felt a stub of pain in his chest at that though, he waited and longed for death to get him save out of this world to her, she will always hate what he become , cant she see it was all for her?, he become dark lord to get her to notice him, why did a muggle stole her from him, he will never forget his elation when he discovered she was a Huffman ,universe love to throw every single twist at him.

he heard two footsteps walking toward his cell, one was so light like bunny, the other was balanced like a model on runaway ,the two walked in symphony that if he didn't gain acute hearing from complete solitude he will mistake them as one. He felt a wave of magic consuming all of his sense and then when he come by he found himself pined to the wall of his cell with chains, Lord Voldemort himself was honoring him with his visit and he had a women with him ,two dark lords in the same cell and a light being trapped with them.

Grindelwald looked at the women and he froze, "Ma. Mancy you are alive?" he visited her grave even digger it himself and he felt the corpse, she was truly gone, that leave one possibility. "you are her daughter" he jabbered, "Huffman, blood and soul and everything in between " the falling dark lord cooed, not believing that his dream walked to him literally. "yes she is , and keep that dirty toughs to yourself or else you want to test crucia on you " never Grinderwarld felt that the other was using legilimency  on him, he didn't even make eye contact at him or felt him invading his mind, he was as good as the rumors had him to be.

"on what honor you two are visiting me for?" 

it was kora who spoke "answers ", he noticed that Voldemort had his hands on her waist a clear sign of relationship and saying that she was his ,he couldn’t help but to imagine him in the other position and the daughter as her mother, it will be flawless world to make that imagination see the light , Voldemort growled and then there was nothing but the feeling of his bones turning dust through unmistakable penalty of the crime of imagination, he was being cruciaed .

he didn't know the duration of it but when it was over he found himself on the cold floor and panting like a thirsty dog, “hope that enough to make you cooperative " Voldemort voice white noise compare to the main attraction of the Huffman.

"Tom , the sooner that I ask the questions the sooner that we get out of here , it’s depressing to be here" her tone was so sweet he wanted to hear every day, if only she was Mancy,"as you wish love , I don't have a string of like in my heart for a lich like him" the gentle manner that he was speaking to her was of one of those movies about purest form of love.

"firstly, why starting the entire regain and why my bloodline of every other, I know of the powers but still get a life "

"my life ended with your mother death, I tried to commit suicide on her grave holding her corpse, but the auroras found me and now I am here “she was stunned by his answer.

"didn't anyone tell you that you are creepy obsessive lovesick specie? “he chuckled, her mother told him that a lot, but he was being her soulmate and where is the crime to love your soulmate?

"darling, do you mean me?" Voldemort asked not being sure if she was speaking to him or the falling.

"no , Tom you are my soulmate “she had to fight off the urge to choke herself , he was her bestie not lover.it had magic on him as he kissed her lips quickly .Grindelwald smirked "you don't know about the rest of the story of your bloodline do you?", a sense of dread fall on her heart , his tone had no good news on it ,he took the silence as his que to answer, “the brighter your light shine, the darker your shadow become, your bloodline have a quirk that no one will wish for on their worst enemies , to attract darkness to you , to make dark lords desire only you, yes ..to have a soulmate of darkness obsessively over you "

there is it, that cursed word that doomed her from the dawn of time, the word that awaken the devil himself that was Tom Marvalo Riddle,the delusion that in a twist of fate become truth , become her reality.

"even you know that me and her are soulmate its must to be one of kind bond that others envy us for" Tom arms caged her waist even more , "but still I can’t alter my mind of your fate " Grindelwald felt confused by Voldemort words.

before Tom could do the signature move himself korra pointed a finger at the gray-haired dark lord, infamous green light brushed from her finger illuminating the room with deadly green.

one dark lord was dead, the other having his body pressed against hers

----

"why are we in the chamber of secrets" she asked feeling a sense of raw confusion, “love , to meet the legacy that Salazar himself left as a prove that he will always love Helga at the extend of passing it to all the generation"

"a chamber that its only accessible through girls’ toilets, pervert" he laughed "I love that sense of humor of yours "

he hissed in parseltongue and the basilsilk merged in, with his eyes closed, “that it’s the legacy, touch it dear, its smooth right? but it’s no match to your skin" he flirted 

indeed it was smooth and left pleasing feeling in her when she touched it ,but her mind was occupied by what she did to Grinderwarld, she didn't know what she was doing it’s like her body took matter into itself and acted up, she didn't know if it was part of the powers or not ,she had not felt that feeling of raw power before its felt so natural and deep within her soul , buries and left unattended until that moments its awaken itself .

 music fall on her hearing and Tom bowed to her like a gentleman and then they danced there ,she had to act the part , after all there weeding is months from now and her only chance of escaping is the tradition of the groom leaving the bride for 24 hours that due there weeding, until then she will act , act , act until then.....

"he made the basilisk to be protector of her bloodline against mudbloods "his voice will be great for narrating any story, engaging anyone to it ,he span her and when her wrist found his , something magical happened .it come like streams of raw cosmic energy , ancient language that manifested itself within and settled there , a feeling of liquid ink of the stars themselves being written on their waists , when it was done its left words that was solid truth.

I can’t live without you

he hummed that song in relish and a long finger touched the words on her waist, it was so ghostly that his finger can be a breeze of air in a summer night ,she saw her counterpart on his waist the exact same words that can summarize there entire being.

-----

the manor felt oddly like something changed within it that matched her change , when they returned there were as always bowing death eaters to them and sentences of compliments as if both of them were a personified version of an answered prayer , till this day she couldn't get used to it , she found appreciation that he was born for the spotlight and she was born to shy away from it .

so, she failed to notice a follower mumbling to him words of approval of a delivery.

"why are we heading down?" she had never been to this part of the manor before in matter of fact she hasn’t seen all of it.

"It had failed to my attention that there is something I turned blind eye on and its should be done long time ago but you know ,my angel, that I was busy with a lot of important business to give that thing its attention" he bubbled hands holding her , leave it to him to give a speech that indirectly answer her. he loved to hear his voice, didn't he?

the door opened and what lies behind that closed door should stay behind it.

Tom riddle was being bonded by unseen robes to his rusty chair, it was not her Tom that she knew , it was the forty something version of him , what he will look like if he didn't do that deed ,if he was remind mortal and aged gracefully, his muggle father held there and completely helpless.

"why is he here?" it’s the only thing in her mind that buzzed louder then thunder.

"you mean dear, why is he still alive till now? don’t worry he won’t be" the senior made a gagging sound in response to his son assertion.

 "ohh does my fool father have anything to say?, what a low life that carry made blood in his vines , a beetle that only purpose in life is to be lab genie for the wizards to test new research on" he paused for a minute to inhale a breath .

"you left my mother knowing that you are unworthy of her, she was larger than life and you were lower than the dirt" the senior again made a gag sound.

"Tom can you ungag him I want to know what he will say" she didn't care what the other will hay but she knew that her Tom will never stop talking if it was about his loathing for his father his grudge for him was undying , just like his obsession with her.

"as you wish, soulmate" with a lazy wave of his middle finger to his father, he could talk now, and the very first words were....

"Fuck you son" 

what a classic, its run on the family, touché.

the junior giggled, " I am not interested on you, only in your bloodlust death, actually it’s her who should I fuck"

one thing that both of she and her father had in common, both had disgust look on them, she was glad that his attention was on his offspring and the later was glaring daggers at him to notice her greenish skin.

"now now don't you dare to get any idea of yourself in my position, you mud scam" the junior harshly said ,jealousy of something that never happened burning him, just when she tough that his condition couldn't  get any worse.

"I will never think of a lady of the street like her in that way, I , who have the blood of Riddle in my vine , the heir to all ...ohhhhhh" his scream of agony nearly tore down his throat  and korra found herself again in that rotten cell in Azkaban and the dead dark lord Grinderwarld dead eyes looking at her , empty with no light, he was in the afterlife now, but Crucio curse had one thing that its due to the miserable receiver, they cry sound exactly the same, that why in her mind both screams of Grinderwarld and Tom senior merge as one.

the junior sound as he stopped the curse brought her back to the present, "I am the hier of slytherine , blood of ancient pure blood run to my vine with magic you cannot imagine should end you, for this crimes, being mudblood , daring to think of marking my soulmate as yours and finally abounded my dear mother who died of a broken heart , you were never the man to stay there by her side when she needed you the most"

korra looked at the senior ,she was astonished to see the face two halves now, one for the for his father, the other for hers, she saw the similarities , both of them were never there for them leaving them to the dark , to suffer burdens that crashed them, there innocent is gone.

she felt wave of void consuming her, "kill him, he is waste of space " she was hissing, the senior looked at her as if she was the bogyman of his nightmare, Grim the ripper come for his soul.

"love!! you are truthy amazing aren't you, the reason why I remembered him was when I visited my mother grave that day and your too" 

that glorious green light showed up and her father died again.

-----

its white and wonderful, her dream was miracle of light, pure in it natural form, if it not for that old man of infamous long beard and half-moon shaped glasses. They stared at each other for a very long time before he began.

"Korra Huffman or Lady Hope, I am quite disappointed in you" no hello?

"why?"

"you are literally the only one who could stop him, the prophecy was fraud to get you some time to act and be Lady Hope, he only answers to you, his soulmate" 

"I am traying to bid my chance, but it is getting worse, he even threatened to kill five muggles each time I defend them" at her answer Dumboldore shrugged.

"it’s for the greater good, there death among Harry and Neville just like your mom"

time froze in that dream if that possible and so her mind, did he just....

"you are the one behind the certain, the one who send Ultio, but why"

Dumboldore began his speech and his task of explaining his deed.

"you believe in the butterfly effect don't you?, I know about your bloodline, I know that my Grinderwarld only weakness was your mother, his soulmate ,he only cared about her, I know about the quirk of your bloodline so I did that , I killed her by sending that Ultio, I know that your magic will act up killing him and triggering it all, then when she sacrificed herself Grinderwarld died with her so he tried to be physically dead to join her , and her death send your father to the state of numbness which made you what you are today so you could stop him, stop Voldemort make him see that killing muggles is wrong"

she shut down.

"YOU RUINED MY LIFE, DISTROYED ME WITH NO REPAIR, MADE MY LIFE LIVING HELL, MY PAST IS KILLING ME, MY PRESENT IS UNCHANGING, MY FUTURE IS DARK, ALLL FOR WHAT?"

Dumoldore didn't flich at her breakdown, he softly answered with voice clam and solid with no doubt even a hint of it.

"it’s for the greater good"

her mind showed her the alternative of the light lord action "if only you didn't do it I will never met him and he will never believe that we are soulmate, he will never be obsessed with me"

"oh dear child of light, it’s true, you are soulmates , there is no avoiding it , even if I didn't do what I did, he will still find you , still get you, even if he burned down the world to claim you from its ashes , there is no running from it, never"

"you are crazy you are just as dark as him, are you truthy in the light side?"

"yes, I died as I lived..."

"completely mad man"

"there was only one way to stop him, but you didn't take it that what disappoint me "

she woke up with cold sweat on her and her heartbeat so loud in her ears but it was nothing compared to her nightmare ,she found Riddle legs closing around her legs and his arms caging her torso ,like the symbol of his house he was embracing her in a snake like manner needing her body heat but it was more than the heat , she was in top of him so she felt it ,his heart beat matched hers in it racing he was still sleeping and he had heavy blush on him  , she looked at him and his face was peaceful like he was light lord not the most darkest of them all  if she didn't know she will be taken back by that face but again even the devil was once an angel, now cold blooded murderer, and so is  Dumbledore.

she saw her waists and that words on them, in that state of mind all what she saw was the word (out)  she really needed to get her nightmare out of her mind , so it’s no surprise when her nails scratch the word out .

again, and again, stronger with each turn.

'get out, get out, get out'

that nightmare is a new demon on her collection among with the epiphany of everything that had happened to her.

Where there is truly light side and dark side? she belonged to none, the light side forsaken her after its destroyed her, leaving her to be claimed by the dark side, sacrificing her like a lamb.

she smirked; she was going to show them wrath of the lamb.

her blood fall on his shirt.

-----

she was at the library with a book titled (all about soulmates) by a bitch of a witch that she didn't care about, she was now at the section of signs of a soulmate. ten ill signs.

1. You just know it.

'nope, but everyone said it'

2. They're your best friend.

' unfortunately, yes'

3. You feel a sense of calm when around them.

'before the storm, yes, I did feel calm around him when they lived at her house of the muggle world, now I still do because I am allergic to death eaters' 

4. You have extreme empathy for them.

'it’s every Hufflepuff thing, it’s my thing to be empathic'

5. You respect each other.

'it’s true we do respect each other'

6. You balance each other out.

'he is the dark, I am the light'

7. You share the same life goals.

'to get rid of toxicity'

8. You challenge each other.

'Lord Voldemort and Lady Hope' 

9. You can totally be yourself.

'yes, yes'

10. You fight for the relationship.

'w.....no comment'

why was she reading it? to feed the image that she was believing and feeling the bond, he was having a nosebleed there while pretending to read another book.

----

she was at the garden during that dreadful and 24 hours of being without  him , yes she was completely without him for the very first time in forever, he left her to attend the last bit of touches before there weeding ,she was with both Regulus and Snape acting like her bodyguards.

Regulus was called back to do a final check on a package, that left her alone with Snape, he had that aura of hate around him and dead inside more and more.

so, it was not the wind that spat and snapped.

" die, die, die "

the dagger that he was hiding in his robes rose shiny silver dry  and went down red and wet with her blood, she barley saw the light reflection and managed to judge nearly unscratched safe for a  wound in her arms  ,how does a tiny dagger cause sharp burning pain?.

"why you are alive when Lily is dead, I will make him feel what I felt when he killed her" he snapped voice echoing in the open space , he rise that wet dagger again but this time she was ready her survival instinct taken over her blocking everything ....even the stunting jinx that Regulus send to Snape.

"my lady I am so sorry let me check the wound " when both looked at it, it was healed not even a scar left.

that's the second sign of the said powers.

Regulus didn't question it , he just rose his wand and cast the lavation spell lifting up the body , when they walked back korra knew that her window of opportunity is gone , if she run now he will kill every single muggle till she return to him or find her  , burn villages down, do unspeakable things to people, but there was another chance it was named Regulus Black. 

------

she was wearing the wedding dress, she requested no help in getting ready she didn't want anyone to see her nearly breaking down, Snape died in a horrifical and what left of his body was giving to werewolves to feast on, but she didn't feel sympathy for him. he got what he deserved, Regulus Black was immediately having the title of Tom right hand, so he was using it right now, to give her personally one last present before the weeding.

"you know that I like you a lot, if we met in a different circumstance, we will be ...."

Regulus said shyly looking down toying with the package that he left to take yesterday when the assaults happened.

"we will be f... friends or even siblings like" Korra said " you know Regulus you are too soft to be death eater, too kind to be a Slytherin, too humble to be a black" he blushed at her words.

" you mean I should be in your house? both of our houses are extremely loyal and curious, my lady but have our differences that shape us "

now his tone become warry.

"I will help you escape "

---------

The door opened and korra walked in her white dress to the aisle ,she was breathtaking beautiful ,even few witches looked at her in awe , her soulmate was in more than awe , envying his own luck with her , and then she stopped next to him .

" you are taking my breath away love, black is your color "korra told her soon to be her husband. The priest began the classical vows ordering both to repeat them. 

------

She felt the silky texture of the fabric of the invisibility clock in her hand awfully reminding her of the basilisk skin but she shook that memory away as she sneaked out transporting herself to the second nearest ministry of magic beside the British one ,the Italian one, she couldn't risk to go to the British one since it was under his control, France one was too close so she choose the Italian, its ministry is as what she heard extremely kind so it’s her only chance.

when she settled in the minister office and by sheer luck, he was alone she removed the clock throwing it away in desperation to be seen. The poor mistier nearly had a heart attack but before he called say anything she spoke.

"please help me I want to be away from him"

he looked puzzled, like he couldn't understand her, so she switched to Italian her father native language.

"I want your help in shielding me from him "

"I know you .... Lady hope" hope is still alive, so naturally good deed is being rewarded,

"Yes, I am"

"you are my lord soulmate" not only it was in English, but it was a settlement that meant .... all hope is gone.

"m.....my Lord?"

"yes, my lady ....and my lord" he bowed, he was there right behind her, the smell pf blood hanged on the air.

his arms left wet mark on her shoulder as he settled them there and then that manic laugh echoed through that massive office, the sound waves come back to her ears from them it entered her body settling in her broken soul.

"you ,my soulmate ,wanted to personally see the extend of my control so much that you abounded our weeding for it making Regulus Polyjuice into you , he is dead now ,red his coffin ,I will give a hint all of the magical society in the world is mine , I am sorry ours a mate is an equal"

he spans her around facing him, facing red eyes of the devil, finger under her chin and he left her head to take a good look at his bloody suit.

"I am sorry Korra , the wedding must frightened you but you didn't want to break my heart so you send him as you "

he kissed her and she tested blood on his lips, he broke apart to laugh again that maniac psychotics laugh, it didn't have to be echo through anything as it directly invaded her soul.

"'and then when he see I view him as a soulmate, I will run away when he give me freedom, when he trust me blindly " he recited her though of that night that he escaped and got her , which meant...

"you were in my head but ...."

"how?, you see love , when I knew we were soulmate I didn't want it to be like another soulmate bond I wanted it to be more symbolic and unique so  I took part of your soul and putted it in me and part of mine and putted it in you "

he toyed with her wrist before capturing them with one hand of his now his eyes returned that dark color.

"we are each other horcruxes" at her word he jumped in joy.

"yes , one of the things your shard did to me made me lucky in achieving it in a very short time , one of mine did to you is it made you parseltongue it was quite the romantic move when you spoke it to me ordering to kill my fool father when you hissed it at me and again you spoke it again in your sleep that day   "

this is it , her mind being her enemy, so now epiphany happened what Dumbledore told her by that she couldn't use that only way to stop him, he meant to kill herself, but since their souls is forever intertwined as one, it’s impossible he won completely.

"now now, dear soulmate since you didn't do the weeding it’s time for those to pay the price of your defining me since there movies made you so blind to see that we are meant to be together, we are soulmate "

more than five muggles died that day, and he have won.

Lady hope is no more.

Trivia facts:

this actually started as a drabble discussing both OC and Tom’s relationship but it ended up as a sequel

Kindly leave comments and feedback , ask any question you would like me to answer, I am doing an ask event for gifts you can ask any character anything and I will answer as them.

[empaths-hsp]

10 Tips for Surviving an Outrage-Fueled Internet as a Highly Sensitive Person

Like it or not, we’re all in a long-term relationship with the internet. Here’s how to make it a peaceful one.

While the internet can seem like a dream come true, it’s also a big, scary digital world, and most of us can’t afford to go completely off-the-grid to avoid it. On the one hand, I personally love doing research and exploring new ideas — and the internet is like an endless buffet for doing exactly that. It feeds my mind, and since I’m a journalist, I use it often when I’m hunting for new sources or digging up truths.

But as a highly sensitive person, the internet can also be… overwhelming. Exhausting, even. Highly sensitive people (HSPs) are the twenty percent of the population who process information very deeply — which makes us both insightful and empathetic, but also easily overstimulated. As an HSP myself, there are days when I want nothing more than to chuck my phone and computer into a river and run away to a cabin in the woods, where the WiFi signal won’t be strong enough to load Wikipedia or Gmail even if I hadn’t gotten rid of all my devices. 

Escaping the hustle and bustle of modernity might be a common daydream for HSPs, but it’s not a practical one. Most of us need to go online for work, to stay connected with loved ones, and do basic things like banking and grocery shopping. 

10 Ways I Survive the Internet as an HSP

1. Know where to find “feed-your-soul” content — and go to it regularly.

Sometimes, even with the best intentions, you can wind up feeling completely burnt out just by spending a few hours online. When that happens, I like to turn to my collection of  pick-me-ups. Sometimes, that’s visiting YouTube for inspirational videos, like the pep talk from Kid President (an oldie but goodie). Other times, I might look at the work of some of my favorite cartoonists, like Sarah Scribbles or XKCD. Similarly, everyone has different taste in art, so take some time to find work that feels like a warm blanket. Have this “comfort food” bookmarked or saved somewhere, whether on a playlist or in a folder, so you can quickly turn to it when the internet — especially news — is just too much to handle.

2. Make sure your music is working for you, too.

I love listening to music while I work, but sometimes even my favorite albums can feel overwhelming when combined with everything else that’s happening on my screen. When I need a little more mental space to process whatever I’m reading, I turn to nature sounds or white noise tracks. My favorite is the Spotify playlist “Birds in the Forest.” It’s incredibly soothing and helps me concentrate when my attention feels scattered. (You can also try this HSP playlist curated by a fellow highly sensitive person!)

3. Turn down the lights — or your screen’s brightness.

Since we HSPs are sensitive to any stimuli, that includes the level of light our eyes are taking in. Computer and phone screens are perpetually glowing beacons, and plenty of people have written about how that blue light can throw off our circadian rhythm before bed. But it can also be hard on your eyes to look at a bright screen with small font all day. 

If you need the internet for work, try using apps like QuickShade to further refine the brightness of your computer screen. And if at all possible, stop looking at screens at least half an hour before bedtime! But if you must, make sure your screens are in night mode. These days, a lot of devices have dark mode capabilities and it’ll take you just a few minutes to adjust them. If you’re an Android person, you can also download an app like Dark Mode, and if you’re more an Apple person, you can try an app like NeuralCam NightMode.

4. Limit time on social media (and avoid doom-scrolling)…

We’ve all been there: one minute you’re checking Twitter for the latest news updates or to find something interesting to read, and the next thing you know, it’s been half an hour and you’re feeling shaky with the deluge of information. And it’s not just Twitter that pulls us into this endless vortex: it can happen on other social media platforms, on Reddit, and even on news websites. Yes, you’ve been trapped into doom-scrolling. 

The internet — and especially social media — is designed to suck you in. Once you know that, you can plan strategies for protecting your time and energy. Set a timer whenever you go on social media and don’t let yourself stay there for longer than that time. Or, if your willpower isn’t strong enough, you can install browser extensions that block certain websites after you’ve been on them for too long — check out Limit for Google Chrome and FocusMe for an app that works across browsers and devices. 

5. …But when you do go social media, make it meaningful.

Of course, social media isn’t inherently a bad thing: It can be a great way to stay in touch with friends, learn about new job opportunities, or simply socialize when you aren’t leaving the house. To get the most out of social media, invest in real relationships — use WhatsApp or Facebook Messenger to ask friends about their day or share memes or GIFs. Or, curate your Twitter account so that it shows a variety of perspectives and voices that you’re interested in hearing. For myself, I look for specific hashtags so that I can easily follow scientists, writers, and people in the chronically ill community. It has made my Twitter scrolling a lot less unpleasant. 

6. Be intentional with how much you share.

We’ve all heard it before, but it is largely true: The internet is forever. And as much as we may want to assume people are acting with the best intentions, that’s just not true of everyone. “Mobs” form quickly, and just about anyone can end up being doxed or harassed. So be mindful of what you’re putting online. Share only as much of yourself as you are comfortable with strangers knowing. It can be a wonderful experience to have an intimate connection with someone you’ve never met in person, but make sure those conversations happen privately. 

Like what you’re reading? Get our newsletter just for HSPs. One email, every Friday. Subscribe here.

7. Understand your capacity for news media and set boundaries.

Similarly to setting boundaries in how much you reveal about your personal life, you also need to understand your mental and emotional capacity for news, be it sad, dark, or uplifting. Because HSPs feel everything so deeply, even an innocuous story about the things scientists still don’t understand about pregnancy can lead to overstimulation (yes, this has happened to me). Once our brains get revved up, it can be very hard to calm them down. 

To protect myself from being emotionally overwhelmed by bad news or overstimulated by some exciting bit of research, I try not to read any news after 5 p.m. I also limit how much I read about particularly dark subjects, the coronavirus pandemic being one prime example. I do want to be informed, but I stick to things like daily newsletters rather than reading every single piece of news I come across. 

8. Take breaks.

This sounds obvious, though it can be hard to put into practice. But no matter what you’re doing online, whether it’s for work or for fun, be sure to spend some time away from your screen: go on a walk, play with your pet, play a board game, simply sit and stretch — the options are endless. You just need to be sure that you have those options in place so you don’t end up spending hours mindlessly going from one tab to the next online.

Need an extra-restorative break? Try a little time forest bathing.

9. Build “phone-free zones” in your life.

Smartphones are great in many ways, but they also mean you’re carrying a little computer with you wherever you go, which makes the temptation to hop online almost impossible to resist. At the park and see a cute dog? Post a picture to Instagram! Spending time with friends and you can’t remember the last movie some celebrity was in? Hop on Google! 

We’ve all done it, but that doesn’t mean we can’t break that permanent connection we seem to have with our phones. Create phone-free zones in your home and life. Maybe it’s a no-phones-in-the-bedroom rule, or no-phones-after-a-certain-time-of-night. Since the internet is built to make us reliant on it, we are the ones who have to set rules and boundaries for when it is allowed to engage us.

10. Acknowledge and embrace the internet’s limitations. 

In a lot of ways, the internet can be a sanctuary for HSPs: We are in control of the sites we visit, the time we spend on them, and the amount of information we absorb. It’s easy to think that if we curate our online experience perfectly, we’ll be in a safe bubble where we don’t have to deal with other people’s emotions. However…

That doesn’t mean being online is a substitute for life offline — we still need in-person experiences, whether it’s walking through a forest or having (socially distanced) dinner with friends. That’s just part of human psychology.

So it’s important to understand what the internet gives you, and what it doesn’t, as well as to understand how it can both help and harm you. The more you know about your relationship with the internet, the better you’ll be able to navigate it. 

You Might Like:

News Overload Is Real. Here’s How It Affects Highly Sensitive People.

This Is What Overstimulation Feels Like for HSPs

7 ‘Rules’ for Highly Sensitive People to Protect Their Energy

The post 10 Tips for Surviving an Outrage-Fueled Internet as a Highly Sensitive Person appeared first on Highly Sensitive Refuge.

from Highly Sensitive Refuge https://ift.tt/3gcWYDM

[premiumappapk]

The PROS And CONS Of Marriage In 2020

Marriage bureau Fewer and fewer men are looking to get married. These days the Pew Research Institute recently found that the number of men ages 18 to 34 saying. A successful marriage is one of the most important things that dropped from 35 percent to 29 percent since 1997. The number of young adult women saying the same thing has risen from 28 percent to 37 percent in the same time. This statistic made me wonder why so many guys out there are saying. They don't want to get married there seems to be a growing subculture of guys. Who says they'd rather avoid it altogether? I grew up thinking that marriage is just what you do when you hit a certain age now.If any want to marry then visit Pak Marriage Bureau Happy married life I'm questioning why do we get married, where did the tradition come from and what are the pros and cons. This article will aim to answer these questions and see how marriage fits into the modern-day culture. But first, let's take a quick look at the history of marriage. The first humans who lived about 5 million years ago had very little use for marriage using the behavior of bonobos is the basis for how early humans would have behaved. It is presumed that early males and females had sex with many partners. They lived in open polyamorous communities where food was exchanged for sexual favors. Couples therapy Because females could collect food fruits nuts and insects while still caring and protecting their baby’s males were not needed as protectors or providers. This meant that neither partner gained from being in a committed pair as the climate heated up the forests receded and humans ventured out into the savanna. We began walking upright hunting with tools and our brains got bigger our large brain sizes. The reason human babies are born so helplessly early and require constant care from their mothers. During the period of 1.8 million to 23,000 years ago survival was hard and the offspring that had the best chance to reach adulthood. Divorce Those that had two parents that work together to raise and protect them. This survival strategy gave birth to first marriages. These were not quite like the marriage as we imagine today couples. In this period would stay together for about three or four years. Before one or the other would wander off to start another family. Perhaps this is why divorce rates peak between three to four years and modern-day marriages relationship dynamics completely changed. When humans began to grow their own food, agriculture meant that humans were permanently tied to the land. The most productive household arrangements were ones in which men and women divided their tasks men, who were physically stronger worked the land while women stayed closer to home and cared for children. Love marriage This is the era in which marriage became a lifelong union between two people that was recognized by their community. Agriculture tied people to their land meaning that at the end of the four-year period. Neither men nor women had any inclination to wander off and find a new family. So, they stayed together and worked as a unit to feed and care for their children. The creation of marriage is a legal contract between men and women came into being over time. As communities settled and monogamous relationships became a necessity for long product life. So, the real origin of marriage came from the biological desire of both men and women to see their children survive. Marriage It was the evolutionary dominant strategy in the last few thousand years marriage became less about a survival strategy and more about a way to control power. It became a tool to strengthen alliances maintain wealth solidify social class control female sexuality and fulfill religious duties. Arranged marriages were the norm around much of the world up until the mid-20th century. So now most of us watching this live in a society filled with abundance. We're at the top of the food chain and we don't have to defend ourselves from saber-toothed Tigers. Anymore many of us are not strictly religious or rural farmers our parents aren't arranging us. New marriage We don't need to form an alliance between kingdoms like in Game of Thrones. So, you may be wondering, why are we still getting married. We no longer need the institution of marriage to ensure the survival of our species live doesn't have to be a conveyor belt of common events. Where you graduate at this age start a family at that age and retire at this age. These are ideas that many Millennials are discovering and are a primary cause of the steady decline in new marriages. Each year about 5% it's beginning to be seen by many as an outdated restricting institution that simply not worth it. People keep getting married at older ages in the 1960s. Best age to get married Over half of Americans under 30 were married the average age of marriage for a woman was about 20. The average age for men was 23. Today only 20 percent of people under 30 are married and the average age for women is 26 and a half and for men is nearly 29. So, let's take a look at some of the pros and cons of modern-day marriage. First, the pros of marriage are the ultimate showcase of commitment an unbreakable love bond through sickness and health. But there are numerous legal financial social and health advantages to getting hitched. for more details about marriage click Pak marriage bureau Marriage benefits The legal benefits a married couple is seen as a single taxable unit in the eyes of the government. In most cases, this will save money on taxes when you claim your spouse is dependent. There are estate planning benefits including inheritance rights government benefits in receiving Social Security Medicare. Disability benefits for your spouse employment benefits such as obtaining health insurance through your spouse's employer. The right to take medical leave to care for a spouse who becomes ill decision-making benefits including the right to make medical decisions. If your spouse is incapacitated consumer benefits such as family rates for health homeowners auto. Other types of insurance financial benefits financial benefits a 2005 study at Ohio State University found that after getting married people saw a sharp increase in the level of wealth. After 10 years of marriage, the couples reported an average net worth of around forty-three thousand dollars single people. At the same age had a net worth of only eleven thousand dollars. However, people who got divorced were worse off than any other group. After a divorce, the average man was left with $8,500 in assets. While the average divorced woman had only $3,400 health benefits health benefits research has continued to show that married people live longer. The stability of a long marriage can act as a support structure throughout life. When one spouse is weak the other gives care happily wedded patients. Who undergoes major surgery are more than three times as likely to still be alive 15 years later? When compared to their unmarried counterparts. There are also many perceived social benefits married people appear to be more stable committed and reliable having a long-standing marriage shows. The world that at least someone can tolerate you in the history of America. There have only been two unmarried presidents. The last one was Grover Cleveland in 1886 and he got married shortly into his first term. So, a successful marriage can certainly lead to a happy healthy long life. Divorce They're fun and we all like cake but the average wedding costs about $30,000 over a third of married couples go into debt to pay off the big day. Half of those newlyweds are still paying the tab five years later chances are by the time. You're finished paying off your wedding. There will be time to start paying for your divorce roughly half of all marriages in the US and in divorce. This is another big reason Millennials don't see the value in marriage anymore. Why start something if it's probably going to fail much of the millennial generation grew up with single or divorced parents. Their entire youth was back and forth between bickering parents overhearing never-ending conversations of legal disputes and custody battles. Another huge factor contributing to men's disinterest in marriage is the fact that marriage isn't. Late marriage What it used to be a hundred years ago having a wife meant having someone who would raise your kids, clean your house, and cook your meals. This may not be an ideal dynamic for everyone. But men used to have much to gain from getting married. Now there are more women than men in the workforce and more women than men have college degrees much like. The bonobo's many women today no longer need a man to provide for them. There seems to be a direct correlation between the liberation of women. The decline in men seeking marriage in areas where women are highly educated and career-oriented. Stable marriage The marriage rates are the lowest although marriage rates continue to decline both men and women agree. That parenting is still a high priority 52% of Millennials say that being a good parent is one of the most important things in life. While only 29% assign high importance to get married. This shows that Millennials don't think that they necessarily need to be married in order to have a family. Many are choosing to avoid the headache and create a love bond and raise kids on their own terms. There are plenty of legal alternatives to getting married like a domestic partnership civil union or creating a will. The truth is you can have just about all the benefits of marriage without actually getting married. You can have a lifelong partner who supports your goals and you can have a soulmate; you can have a family a shared home financial wealth and good health without the state mandated license. So maybe those bonobos had it right. All along do your own research to assess your own goals and list your priorities. If your goal is to travel the world and check out the tinder scene in every city. Maybe marriage isn't right for you that does not pressure yourself.

for more detail click here  Source: Pak Marriage Bureau

[littleplebe]

Something Wonderful - Part 2

For @mee2themoo‘s Marvel Summer Fun and Fluff Fest.

A continuation of +this.

About a year and a half ago…

It was a month after Steve had been discharged from the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility, deemed fit to start living by himself in this new world. A small living space had been assigned to him in Brooklyn along with a free gym membership that he abused without shame, also something called a computer that stayed boxed in a forgotten corner of his room along with a few other modern techs that Steve was afraid to use. One of the nicer and chattier agents at S.H.I.E.L.D. had hinted that all modern technology could be hacked. Steve took it to mean everything could be traced to its owner. He didn’t know what that could mean for him but he wasn’t about to take risks considering he didn’t trust anyone and anything in this century yet.

He often felt paranoid. Being a man out of time wasn’t an easy situation to handle. He had difficulty coping as a result of practically everything being different. People were loud and always in a hurry, fashion was downright outrageous, everything was expensive—at the rate he was spending money these days, he would go bald within a year—and he didn’t think he would ever get used to some of the words he had heard on the streets. Amazeballs, awesome, chill out and… badonkadonk? They stumped him. He had been called a dude a dozen times and, while he wasn’t unfamiliar with the word, it was hardly the right term to describe someone like him.

The amount of history and culture to catch up on was overwhelming and it made his mind spin. Frequent nightmares, dark thoughts, and his overall frustration at waking up to a world that had moved on without him eventually led him to consider a road trip out of the city. Maybe getting away from the hubbub of New York would help him calm down and feel a bit better about his unfortunate situation.

He packed some clothes and snacks in a bag and rented a pickup truck. He would travel south, spend the night in whichever place he’s reached by then, and there he would decide if he wanted to keep going or return home.

Couple of hours in, the journey was quiet and smooth, and without anything to distract him except the dull drone on the radio, Steve fell back into the addictive world of what-ifs. What if he had given Peggy his coordinates before he went down? What if Howard had found him with the coordinates and he was alive in his own time like he was supposed to be? What if he killed himself now? Would that make a difference to anyone at all?

Hours later and still completely owned by his morbid thoughts, he was passing through a small town just outside of Virginia when the car cruising ahead of him slowed abruptly and ran into an oncoming vehicle. Steve slammed his foot on the breaks to avoid another collision.

“Holy shit!” His exclamation was buried under the screech of tires as the truck skidded to a dangerous halt in the middle of the road, just a few inches shy of the car before him.

The reason for the accident, it turned out, was a naked woman who was presently eyeing the crash with caution. She wasn’t entirely naked, but even in this century, Steve knew that people walking around in their unmentionables was not a common occurrence. He stared in open-mouthed shock as she casually walked past the two ill-fated vehicles and approached Steve’s truck.

“Um,” he said when the passenger door opened and she slid in beside him without any explanation.

“Let’s go.”

“Where?” he asked her dumbly, eyes flickering to the road ahead to see the owners of the crashed vehicles engaged in a verbal fight. “I… need to help them.”

The woman shot him a look. “They can take care of themselves. I’m naked. Get me out of here!”

Steve turned to her, careful not to let his gaze wander. She was wearing black lace. It was fogging his judgment. “Um…”

The question of her identity or if she was to be trusted didn’t even cross his mind, so caught up was he in figuring out what would be the right thing to do in that instant. Her words echoed unevenly in his mind, registering a bit later than they should have and Steve realized she had a point. He wordlessly put the truck in reverse and drove around the crash like a careless civilian. A worried glance at the rearview mirror showed that the two men were still arguing.

“Relax,” drawled his new companion. “They were both perverts, more interested in checking me out than actually stopping to help.” She ducked her head out of the open window and screamed, “Assholes!”

Steve blinked and nervously rubbed the back of his neck. “Why… why are you…?”

“Why am I half naked on the road?” She pulled her legs up into her body and wrapped her arms around her knees in a display of defiance and, perhaps, in an unsuccessful attempt to hide her assets from his gaze. “Well, if you must know,” she continued stiffly. “I quit my job and they asked for my uniform back. I was angry and feeling petty, so I took it off right there and threw it at their faces.”

People really do that? Steve wondered. Apparently, they did.

“I mean, it wasn’t a job. It was an internship. I was supposed to work in HR or public relations but for whatever dumb reason, they placed me in security instead and gave me a stupid uniform to wear.” She paused and shook her head in defeat. “Now I’ll have to find somewhere else where I can earn my six college credits. God, this sucks!”

If she were fully clothed, Steve would think about offering some comfort in the form of a light pat on the knee. Since she wasn’t clothed, he settled for a small smile that came out more confused than sympathetic.

“Where am I taking you?”

“Willowdale. Culver University.”

“Oh. That’s where I’m headed.” He had planned to stop in Richmond but Willowdale wasn’t far. He supposed he could spend the night there instead.

The woman gave him a skeptical look. “Yeah, right.”

He didn’t know what to say to that, so he awkwardly introduced himself. “I’m Steve.”

She fidgeted, looking uncomfortable. “I’m Jane… uh… Foster.” She glanced behind them at the empty backseat. “Do you have a jacket or a blanket or something in this old metal contraption?”

Steve started. “Shoot, yeah! I have… uh…” He pulled up on the side of the road and gave her an apologetic look. “I have clothes. I’m sorry I didn’t think to offer sooner.”

“Yeah, that’s a shocker,” Jane deadpanned.

He tried not to get upset by her sarcasm and her skepticism to believe that he wasn’t one of those perverts out to get her. He would take her home safely and prove that he was a gentleman of the best kind, which he wasn’t—not completely—but she didn’t need to know that.

“I’ll get you a shirt,” he mumbled, hopping out and going to the back to retrieve one from his bag. She seemed to approve of it and snatched it from his grip to quickly put it on. It fell well past her thighs and Steve, who had been too busy not staring at the pale expanse of her skin, noticed for the first time how tiny she was. The shoulder line of his shirt hung over her biceps and the sleeves were longer than her arms.

She burrowed herself into the fabric and whispered, “Thank you.”

Steve nodded silently and restarted the truck.

She seemed to open up after that. Not a lot, but she told him about nicking a taser from the security vault of the firm she had recently quit and about her friend who worked in the same firm, who normally drove her to and from that place. But since she had quit, her friend couldn’t come to her rescue and she had to stand half nude on the road, hoping some kind soul would give her a lift.

Steve could sense some awkwardness seeping into her demeanor now that she had probably realized he was a nice fella and had no intention to do anything except help her. She pulled the collar close around her neck and said, “I’m not usually like this. I don’t rip off my clothes in public and walk around in my underwear.”

Steve kept his eyes on the road. “I’m sure you don’t.”

 It was quite late when they reached Culver. Steve realized they should have reached half an hour ago but he had been driving slower than he normally did. For… for Jane’s safety. The woman in question got out at the gates of Culver University and thanked him for bringing her home.

“Where are you staying at?” she inquired casually.

“I’m staying…” He trailed away because he had no idea. He would have to ask around for a cheap inn. Or perhaps he could still make it to Richmond.

“Do you have a place to crash at night?” Jane frowned when Steve nodded uncertainly. “Seriously, dude?”

“I’m sure I’ll find a place nearby.”

“This late?”

“Recommend me a hotel, maybe? Some place not that expensive?”

“Jesus Christ! Look, there’s no such thing as ‘not expensive’ in this place unless you’re a student, which you’re not.” She paused and ran a hand down her face. “God, I can’t believe I’m doing this… just leave the truck here and come with me. My roommate’s in Chicago for internship and her bed is free.”

Steve shook his head immediately. “That’s very kind of you, but I think I can manage by my own.”

Jane rolled her eyes. “Can you scale a wall?”

He blinked, confused at the turn in conversation. “I…”

She wasn’t interested in waiting for an answer and pointed ahead to her left. “Around the corner, second building, third floor. I’ll switch on the lights and stick my head out so you know which window.” Then she walked away, taking his shirt with her, her dark hair glistening in the moonlight.

“Shit!” cursed Steve, staring as she disappeared into the campus premises.

Did he have a choice?

He did. He could drive away and find a place to stay till morning and forget all about the woman he had met on the road. But he couldn’t leave her waiting at her window, could he? Plus, he needed his shirt back. He could go there, tell her he was going to be fine on his own—hell, he could even sleep in the truck if he didn’t find anything suitable—he would take his shirt and he would leave. And that would be it. Simple and easy.

He felt like a thief sneaking around in the shadows as he followed the directions she had given him. Like she had promised, the lights were switched on and she waved at him. “Come on up.” Then she disappeared.

“No, I can’t…,” hissed Steve. “Ma’am, wait! Jane!”

He turned and peered to his left and then to his right. Oh boy, this wasn’t good. He was going into a woman’s room. A student’s room. It was forbidden. Wasn’t it? He cursed again, then stepped forward to grab the pipe going up the building. It took him two quick leaps to reach her open window.

“Woah, you’re fast,” she remarked, looking up from the refrigerator. His shirt was still wrapped around her and she had thankfully put on a pair of jeans. “That’s Lily’s side of the room. You can make yourself comfortable.”

“Wait, listen—”

“Bathroom’s over there. I hope you brought your own toothbrush.”

“Ma’am…”

“Are you hungry? I have a club sandwich in the fridge.”

“That’s not what I…”

“And beer.”

Steve sighed in resignation and stepped fully into the small room. “Yes, thank you.” He was a little hungry. He would eat and then leave. What could go wrong?

Read Part 3