#opens up about her trauma after a skipping stones session

[missdarhk]

the theme is: there is no heterosexual explanation for what they have going on

honorable mentions:

[bluiex]

After seeing so much Limited Life angst, I decided to make some fluff. Especially for Scarian. In this the life series is just a game they play for fun where no trauma is had and no problems are gained. After each session there’s a small break for everyone to relax for a bit. This takes place after session 7.

(Also it seems that Tumblr fixed the issue with the text not changing color)

—————

Grian peers out of the Nosey Neighbor’s tower at the sound of a horn. He startles when he sees Scar perched on the wall, smiling brightly, horn clutched in his hand. Grian isn’t sure if he’s amused or concerned.

“What is he doing?” Pearl says, mirth in her voice.

“I have no idea, I’m just glad he didn’t enter and trigger the trap.”

“What would happen then?” BigB asks joining them.

“With the timers paused? It should do nothing to him. Hopefully.”

“Hopefully?”

“Not like we tested that scenario out. I’ll go see what he wants.” Grian descends the tower, knowing exactly what Scar wants. He approaches his partner, careful of the pressure plates. “What are you even doing?”

“I wanted to see you!” He says cheerily.

“There’s an opening?” Grian replies, humor and confusion mixing in his voice.

Scar studies where Grian stands, in the center of a cluster of pressure plates, “and step on one of those? I don’t know what’s under any of them.”

“I wouldn’t invite you in if there was a trap,” Grian bluffs. The trap is hidden for a reason, a temporary truce won’t change that.

“Doesn’t matter now, let’s go!”

Before Scar can move, Pearl exits the tower, “bring him back by sundown!”

Grian shoots her a glare, but Scar chuckles, “will do!” Grian quickly heads to the entrance in the wall, stepping around the trapped pressure plate.

Scar meets him on the ground on the other side, “where to?”

“Down here, unless you want to go somewhere more secluded,” Grian replies, heading towards the drop-down to the river.

“Nah, it’s good, we only have a little time after all.”

Grian nods, sliding down the edge to sit by the waters edge. Scar joins him after a moment, leaning back against the stone. “Things are getting crazy,” he murmurs after a moment.

Scar hums, “yeah, the end is near, huh?” He stares down at his arm, the red timer blinking.

Grian glances at it, only a couple days remain for Scar. He quickly tears his eyes away, focusing on the water. He picks up a stone and skips it, eventually saying quietly, “yeah, I don’t think we’ll have another chat here.”

Scar doesn’t respond for a moment, Grian doesn’t meet his eyes, choosing to skip another stone. “Are you okay?”

Grian looks over in surprise, “huh?”

“With Jimmy and Joel dying, I mean.”

“Ah, yeah,” he replies after a moment, looking away again, “kinda jarring, but this is just a game, y’know?”

“Doesn’t change anything.”

Grian slumps back, unable to hide from his partner, “okay, yeah, I’m bothered.” He glances over, “maybe it has something to do with them not being on Hermitcraft. I mean, most of us here will see each other again just a few days after someone dies. But with them… I guess I can talk to them when we get out, but I don’t see them in person all too often.”

Scar bumps their shoulders together before leaning against Grian, “maybe you should do that when we get back.”

“Maybe,” he sighs, skipping a stone. Grian shakes his head, “anyway, how are you doing with… everything you have going on.”

Scar laughs, “oh, the usual. I killed dad, dad killed me, Bdubs tried to stop me. You know how it is.”

Grian opens and closes his mouth a few times, “I- I really don’t.” He lets out a surprised laugh, “I still don’t understand what you guys have going on.”

“Gotta be creative in how we have allies,” Scar gives him a look from the corner of his eye, “you know how it is, I’m sure.”

Grian huffs goodnatured-ly, “I guess.”

Scar leans closer, throwing an arm over Grian’s shoulders, “how are you feeling about the rest of this game?”

Grian glances at him to see him looking down, he follows the gaze to his arm. Grian traces the red numbers, the time he has left. “In terms of winning, hopeful. Worried about Scott, though.”

Scar gasps, mock-offended, “not me?”

“Nah,” Grian gives him a cheeky grin, “you’re not that scary.”

Scar sits up, pulling his arm back and leaning over Grian. He his hands on either side of him, pinning him against the stone, his voice drops when he speaks, “oh yeah?”

They stare at each other silently for a minute before Grian laughs, pushing Scar back. “Fine, you’re just not scary to me. There’s no way you could be, anymore.” Scar hums, but a beeping stops him from responding. Grian pulls out his communicator, “we only have a few more minutes before the game continues.”

“Ah, I guess this is it then,” Scar stands up, reaching down a hand to assist Grian up.

Grian nods as he stands up, “we’ll probably talk next like this back home.”

Instead of a reply, Scar leans down and pulls Grian into a kiss. It only lasts a couple of seconds before he pulls back. Grian tries to follow, but Scar just grins. “I’ll see you on the battlefield, then.”

“Yeah,” Grian murmurs, not able to hide his disappointment.

They climb back up the river bank and bid each other goodbye before returning back to their allies. They need to prepare for the final session, after all.

~ ~ ~ Bonus ~ ~ ~

Pearl watches the pair run off, “they act like teenagers sneaking out to meet together in the middle of the night.”

BigB laughs, “except there was nothing sneaky about that.”

YEEES FLUFF- we desperately need fluff for traffic Scarian. And this is just AMAZING. Hanging out on break, Scar checking in on Grian making sure he's fine.. I love them qoq

Imagine this- once Grian gets back to the tower both Pearl and BigB ask how his date went. And Grian just stutter and punches Pearl in the arm(lovingly) before saying it was nice

[scapegrace74-blog]

New Ways of Turning into Stone, Chapter 5

A/N  Sorry for the long break between chapters.  As some of you might have seen from my Tumblr blog, I’ve been off on vacation these past two weeks.  Plus, when I felt the urge to write, it was my new Vaquero AU that kept calling to me (21,000 words and counting!), rather than this fic.  Which is probably a good argument for why I don’t like to post WIPs.  In any event, here is the next chapter some of you have been asking for, entitled Third Appointment.  Be careful what you wish for.  Angst ahead, plus a trigger warning for infertility trauma, miscarriage.

The first four chapters are available on my AO3 page.

The Thursday after her impromptu encounter with Jamie and his niece at the Royal Hospital for Children, Claire woke with a strange twisting pain in her gut.  Skipping breakfast, she was halfway to her office before she diagnosed herself with an acute case of nerves, the kind that sprouted between her lungs and ribcage like a vestigial organ whose sole purpose was to unsettle her.

She wasn’t in the habit of meeting patients outside of the clinical confines of her practice, but it was more than that.  Jamie had caught her in a moment of weakness, with both her personal and professional armour missing.  What he might have seen and how he could have interpreted it had occupied her thoughts ever since.

Eating lunch was out of the question.  By the time two o’clock approached, her insides were a buzzing hornets’ nest of anxiety, her palms clammy with sweat.  A half-empty bottle of Xanax called to her from the bottom of her purse.  Before she could weigh the implications of taking one at work on an empty stomach, Jamie’s familiar knock intervened.

She could tell as soon as he entered that Maggie hadn’t needed a transfusion that week.  His russet curls shone like garnets in the midday sun and his uncanny eyes glittered like sapphires.  Still, he avoided looking directly her way as he settled into his usual chair, and she wondered if the overlap of their personal and professional lives had left him feeling unnerved as well.

“No wheat grass smoothie,” he commented, his gaze running over her desk.

“No, I didn’t have time for lunch today.”  It was a blatant falsehood, since she’d spent her lunch hour picking her cuticles until they bled, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Ye should eat more, Sassen..., Doctor Beauchamp.  Ye canna help anyone else if ye’re no’ properly nourished.”  She caught the slip, and for some reason it angered her.

“Is this your attempt to negotiate a reduction in your fees, Jamie?  Dietary advice in return for counselling?  Because if so, I’m afraid I don’t bill on the barter system,” she snapped, despising her churlish tone.

Jamie’s eyes narrowed, then dimmed.  Message received, he sat up straighter in the armchair and crossed a foot over his knee, assuming a position of poised and detached calm that had no doubt served him well during business negotiations.  She regrouped by pretending to glance at her journal for the notes from their previous session, although the space next to his name was accusingly blank.

Boundaries thus defined, the session went surprising well.  Jamie spoke of his relief that Maggie’s latest round of chemotherapy was over, allowing her to return home and to some semblance of a regular life for a child of six.  Claire coaxed him gently towards the topic of his overwhelming guilt for abandoning his family when he was most needed.  Jamie processed pain through the recounting of stories, coming to terms with his self-decreed transgression by weaving together the tale of those he loved and pointing to the holes his absence had caused.

As his resonant voice spun its web of words, Claire became aware of an underlying hum.  At first it was subtle, like the mumble of traffic from a far-off motorway.  But as their hour together ticked by, it grew in strength until she could no longer ignore the buzz that pressed against her from all directions.

“... saw that it was really Jenny and Ian who I was... Claire?  Doctor Beauchamp, are ye well?”  Jamie was watching her with concern, and she realized she’d been shaking her head, trying to dislodge the omnipresent hum.

“Yes, I’m... yes.  Sorry.  Just a funny noise that’s...  Please, continue.”  When Jamie didn’t immediately pick up the thread of his narrative, she tried again.  “You were saying something about Jenny and Ian?”

Instead of continuing his previous thought, Jamie picked that moment to broach the topic she’d desperately hoped he would avoid.

“I hope ye’re no’ upset about the other day, at the hospital.  I didna mean tae impose or tae... o’erstep the bounds of our relationship.  No’ that we have a relationship, mind,” he hastened to add.  “Only a professional one.  But when I saw ye, I couldna resist introducing ye tae wee Maggie.  I hadna told ye about her yet, and I thought...”

“Jamie, it’s fine,” she cut in, halting his rambling explanation.  “She’s a lovely girl.  They all are.  It’s only that, I’m sort of...”

“Ye’re verra good with them.  Children, that is.  Ye’ll make a fine mother one day.”

All the oxygen left the room at once.  Her heart beat so hard there was a bruised feeling behind her sternum.   Launching to her feet, Claire stumbled blindly away from her desk.  She wanted to run, to scream, but her vision was a narrow chasm and a now-deafening throb filled her ears.  She only made it a few steps before her knees buckled and the carpet floated upwards to meet her.

“Ifrinn!”  Jamie leapt to her side, catching her by the shoulders before her head could hit the floor.  He lowered them both carefully to the ground, resting her body against his lap.  “Sassenach?  Claire?  Can ye hear me?  Do I need tae call an ambulance?”  The words reached her from very far away, but the threat of medical intervention acted like a dose of smelling salts.

“No,” she groaned, the room spinning around her like a kaleidoscope.  “No hospital.  I just... need to eat,” she grasped at the most innocuous explanation for her current state.

Without dislodging her, Jamie stretched his long arm and brought back the small basket of miniature muffins that were the day’s offering from Geillis.  With surprising dexterity, he peeled away the paper one-handed and broke apart a bite-sized morsel, holding it gently against her lips.  Realizing that her dignity couldn’t get any more battered, Claire opened her mouth and allowed Jamie to feed her.  After only a few bites, the buzzing disappeared and she was able to sit up on her own.

“Thank you,” she murmured, afraid to look into his eyes for fear of the pity she knew she’d see there.  “You were right. I  should have eaten lunch, I guess.”

“Claire.”  Jamie made a prose poem of the single syllable of her name.  She looked up at him through her lashes, stunned to find him looking back, not with pity, but with something akin to adoration.  “Mo nighean donn,” he ran a tender hand through her loosened curls.  “Ye need tae care more for yerself.”

“I will.  I’ll try.”  And when she said it to him, she really meant it.  Jamie made the impossible seem probable.

They stared at one another, shoulder to shoulder on the floor of her office.  She couldn’t think of anything else to say, but nor did she move.  Her gaze flitted over his face, noticing a vestige of boyish freckles across the bridge of his nose, a mole hidden in the harvest stubble on his cheek.  Jamie was performing a parallel inventory, eyes finally coming to rest at the level of her mouth.

“Ye’ve got a wee crumb, jus’ there.”  Unconscious, her tongue swept out, triggering a predatory response, twin blue laser beams narrowing on the target she had just painted on her lower lip.

“I... I’d verra much like tae kiss ye, Claire.  May I?”

An amputated moan was all she could manage in response, but Jamie must have understood its meaning.  He bent his head until only a whisper separated them.  The air crackled, sending that extra organ plummeting towards her hollow womb.  Clenching her eyes shut in defeat, she closed the infinitesimal gap until they met in an effervescent caress of lip and tongue.

Cold washed over her skin, bathing her in gooseflesh.  Jamie tasted like he looked; a banquet of fresh, volatile flavours that called to mind a picnic in a meadow, a spray of sea foam, the warmth of hearth and home.  She could feel him trembling against her, his moist breath rushing against her cheek in shallow pants.  For a score of heartbeats, Claire was the happiest she had ever been.  Then, reality crashed down around her.

“I’m sorry,” she stammered, pulling away.  “I... this can’t... I’m sorry.”

Jamie leaned back with a mixture of longing and resignation.  She hated adding herself to his list of regrets, but it was for the best.

“I’m your doctor, Jamie.  This isn’t right.”

“Aye, I ken.  I should apologize, but I canna seem tae find it in me tae repent.”

Jamie stood, reaching down to help Claire up as well.  As soon as it was apparent she was able to stand on her own, he dropped her hand as though it burned.  The line between his brows deepened, and she could see the question forming before he gave it voice.

“What if ye werena my doctor?  Would it be right then?”

“That’s neither here nor there, because I am, Jamie.  A relationship between patient and doctor of a romantic nature is ethically off-limits.”

Jamie nodded, apparently accepting her explanation at face value. Her heartbeat calmed.  He moved slowly, gathering his coat and starting to leave.  

“But what if ye weren’t?” he said, facing the door.  “If we’d met at the hospital, or out on the town?”

“I...” she stammered, searching desperately for any answer except for the truth.  “No, Jamie,” she said at last, watching as she destroyed his last bastion of hope.  “I’m sorry.  I just don’t feel that way about you.”

Nodding abruptly, Jamie let himself out of the office.  She listened to his low murmuring voice through the door as he spoke to Geillis, heard him make an appointment for the following week, then the loud snap of the main door closing.  Only then did she allow herself to collapse once more to the floor, angry sobs overtaking her.

***

“Are ye out of yer fuckin’ mind?” Geillis inquired with her usual brutal eloquence.

With the help of a Xanax, Claire had managed to see her last two patients of the day, and only needed to navigate the shoals of her office manager’s ire before she could go home and fully medicate herself into a dreamless sleep.

“Jes so we’re clear, ye want me tae write a letter terminating your services as a doctor an’ suggesting suitable alternative providers?  An’ ye want me tae send this letter, over email, tae Jamie Fraser?”

“That’s right.”  She had determined that icy calm was the best antidote to this conversation, which was fortuitous, since she felt numb all over.

“An’ what reason am I tae give fer this abrupt conclusion tae yer association wi’ Mr. Fraser?”

“I don’t owe him an explanation.  Only sufficient notice and an opportunity to seek counselling elsewhere,” she said, feigning reasonableness.

Pushed past her limits, Geillis rose from behind her desk, a tiny tempest of moral indignation.

“Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp, ye are a good friend, a fine doctor an’ a fair employer.  But I swear by the Almighty that if ye dinna drop the façade and tell me wha’ is going on I am going tae smack ye until yer ears ring!”

There was a certain relief in knowing that Geillis wouldn’t take no for an answer.  And unlike Jamie, she knew where Claire lived and would not let her rest until the truth came out.

“He kissed me.  Or rather, I kissed him.  And I liked it!  That’s why, Geillis.”

Her friend’s shoulders sagged, all righteousness gone in an instant.  She reached around Claire’s frame and held her in a bone-crushing one-sided hug.

“Och, hen.  An’ ye figured ye could deal wi’ those pesky feelings by jes, what? firing him as yer patient?”  

“I can’t deal with this right now, Geillis.  I can’t feel the way he makes me feel.  And this practice is all that I have left.  There’s no way I can risk losing it just for an affair that won’t even last the summer.”

She didn’t need to elaborate on her reasons for that dire prediction.  Geillis knew them as well as anyone.

“He’s an intelligent man, Claire. He’s gonna ken something is up.  Moreover, he’s a good man.  He deserves tae hear the truth.”

Shaking her head sadly, Claire walked towards the door.  Just before exiting, she called back softly to her friend.

“Geillis?  Make sure to include Dr. Rafferty’s name on the list of referrals.  I think they’d be a good match.

***

Monday morning dawned with little promise for the fledgling week.  Moving robotically through her weekend routine, Claire thought frequently of chickens.  How their bodies kept moving once their heads were lopped off, nerves and muscle and bone continuing to function for a time despite the fatal blow.

The elevator chimed its arrival on her floor.  As the doors slide open, Jamie was the first thing she saw.  He loomed by her still-locked office, a sun-topped thundercloud gripping a sheet of printer paper.

She’d worn her best black suit and a pair of chunky heels that brought her closer to his height.  Perhaps, on some subconscious level, she’d anticipated this confrontation.  Perversely, she relished it.  Vitriol and deceit didn’t suit her, but it was preferable to feeling absolutely nothing.

“Do ye mind tellin’ me,” Jamie began before she’d even set foot in the hallway, “jus’ what this is about, Claire?” He brandished the paper like a wanted poster.

“I would think it was self-explanatory, actually.  I’m terminating our professional relationship,” she huffed, golden eyes coming to life for the first time since Thursday.

“Via email.  Sent tae me by Miss Duncan, because ye dinna have the guts tae do it yerself.  Christ, Sassenach, even my ninth grade sweetheart didna dump me so cruelly!”

“I’m not your sweetheart!” she burst out, a flood of emotion cresting with her rising anger.  “Don’t call me that!  I was your doctor, Jamie, and now I’m nothing to you.  Nothing.  Just go.  Please.  Just go,” she finished weakly and without any hope that he’d listen.

“All this jus’ because I kissed you?” Jamie persevered.  At her stubborn silence, he continued, “Nah, I dinna think so.  Ye’re many things, Claire, but a coward isna one of them.”

She found this hysterically funny, since a coward was the only role she played to perfection.  She didn’t have time to laugh, however, because Jamie was suddenly standing much closer, forcing her to lift her chin to meet his stormy eyes.

“Nah,” he continued smoothly, a big cat alerted to the smell of its prey.  “If ye’d objected tae the kiss, ye would have told me so.  Read me the riot act or kneed me in the bawls.  I think ye’re scared, Doctor Beauchamp.  I think that kiss terrified ye, because ye realized ye liked it.  Somethin’ ye couldna  plan for in yer wee journal, right there under yer nose.  Bet it made yer heart beat so fast. So fast, jus’ like it is now.”

Jamie’s hand rested gently over the placket of her suit jacket, where he could surely feel the trip hammering of her pulse.

“Please,” she begged.  “Don’t.  I can’t...”

“Can’t what, Sassenach?” he whispered back, goading her.

The truth hung on her lips, and the toll of the past few days meant that she no longer had the strength to stop it from spilling forth.

“Can’t have children.  Ever.  I tried, for years.  Fourteen miscarriages, fourteen lost chances.  And seeing you with those children last week.  I know it’s presumptive, but I could never deny you that chance, Jamie.  That’s why I can’t see you anymore.”

She was looking down, watching the buttons of his shirt rise and fall with his agitated breath, but as she finished speaking, their movement ceased.  Chancing a glance upward, she was stunned by the fury that had overtaken his expression. 

Jamie opened and closed his mouth several times before he managed to speak in a gritty growl.

“Mutation of the RUNX1 gene tha’ causes leukemia.  I was tested, along wi’ Jenny an’ Ian, after Maggie was diagnosed.  I have a fifty percent chance of passing it along tae my children.  An’ since I canna stand the thought of ano’er bairn havin’ tae suffer as Maggie has, as soon as I got the test results, I went out an’ had a vasectomy.”

Claire recoiled as though she’d been slapped, a high pitched whine in her ears.

“Ye’re no’ the only one who’s hurting, Claire!” Jamie continued, voice dashing against the rocks of her name.  “We’re no’ meant tae suffer alone.  Ye, of all people, should ken that.”

Stunned in the silence following the thunderclap of his revelation, she couldn’t find the words to express her sorrow, her outrage, and her crippling shame.  By the time the power of speech returned, Jamie was gone. 

[b00t-s]

We're all gossip-y bitches sometimes

this is part two

Janus xey/xem

Roman she/he

Patton he/him

Virgil he/him

See the character intros for more info

TW. Swearing, arguments, alcohol, drunk characters, the word v//mit is used once, characters being characters, past trauma mentioned, tiny tiny tiny sprinkle of angst but just a passing of it at end, and nothing to intense

Again, tell me if I'm being insensitive. Shout at me if I am.

Summary: Patton goes to talk to Janus about Roman. The group opens...'some' bottles. Virgil adds on some...interesting opinions.

Events occur few hours after this.

Janus just finished xeir nightly shift when Patton came bounding up to xem. Janus raised an eyebrow at how ecstatic he looked.

"Yes?" Xey managed out, forcing back the hundreds of snarky comments xey could of said right then.

"Can you hang out at My house later?" Patton practically beamed out.

"why would I want to 'hang out'? It's just a social construct created to give people a higher sense of being." Janus remarked, flipping to closed/open side to closed.

"So you'll be there?"

"hmm. Will doom-and-gloom be there?

"doom and---ohhh, Virge. Yeah, probably," Patton realised now that this was a bad mix of people to invite "probably-probably not for long though!"

"Fine" Janus replied, taking off xeir apron. Xey ignored the obvious lie. "I'll be there in an hour." Xey knew one way or another xey would end up there due to Patton's... effective persuading.

"Great!" Patton exclaimed "oh yeah, and...um...it's raining outside so..take my umbrella, kay?"

His tone more serious all of a sudden, Patton nodded to Janus' heavily made up face, so well done an ignorant bystander wouldn't of noticed the thick layers of foundation on xeir face.

Patton handed xem a translucent umbrella, patterned with cute frogs and flowers, to Janus. Ignoring the distasteful cartoons, Janus nodded and took the umbrella.

"See you soon, Jan!" Patton cheerily waved as he bounced off.

Janus folded xeir apron, opened Patton's umbrella and braved the outdoors.

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

Janus arrived at Patton's house exactly on time, bone dry, despite the heavily flowing rain. Patton expected nothing less of his friend. He invited xem inside, amazed as always by his friend's everyday fashion.

Jan was wearing a casual yellow shirt over a long sleeved black shirt. Fishnet gloves adorned xeir hands, and xeir ruffled hair was let lose.

Xeir fashionably messy hair was topped with a neatly placed black fedora, which of xey never took off. Xey even scarred persuaded Thomas to let xem wear it to work.

Patton offered xem a smile, and walked xem upstairs. "Hi Jan!" He grinned.

"Hello" xey replied mundanely.

Xey absent-mindedly glanced at Patton's outfit, which contained a violet cashmere sweater, bell bottomed jeans, circular silver glasses and a sunflower clip in his perfect curls.

It was a good look, xey had to admit.

When they both reached Patton's room, Janus stood still, taking in xeir surroundings.

Patton's room was covered with things from the 2000's; Tamagotchi's, stickers pressed up against the pastel wall, stuffed animals, wristbands, old CD's, care bears posters and butterfly clips littering the floor in a deadly trap.

A trans flag was pinned above the single bed with blue tack, right next to some inspirational and motivational quotes.

The whole place looked like it had been puked on by unicorns.

It hurt Janus' eyes.

Xey was a little overwhelmed by all the spiraling colours and nostalgia-inducing objects, so xey sat cross-legged in the middle of the pink carpet. The world slowed down.

Janus wondered, not for the first time, how a 29 year old could be this cheerful.

.

Or appear this cheerful.

"Jan?"

Janus gave a small twitch of xeir head, realising that xey had spaced out. "Hmm?" Xey replied.

"Hey, you were up with the clouds! I was just saying, I think Virge is here" Patton chirped.

"oh"

"he...might be staying for a little longer then i said"

"How wonderful." Janus muttered, knowing this would happen but hating it anyway.

"oh, don't be like that! I'm sure you guys could become friends!" Janus snorted. "Or...at least not kill at each other whenever you're in the same general area" Patton corrected.

"Anyway! I'm going to greet him at the door!" He suddenly proclaimed, skipping downstairs.

Janus was disgusted at how naïve this man was.

But that was a lie.

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

Patton slowed his happy skip to a casual walk. His grin slipped into a content smile as he reached the end of the stairs. Being so happy takes its toll on people, he thought. Soft tapping of the door interrupted his thoughts as he opened the door to reveal Virgil.

The first thing you notice about this man was his unfair tall-ness. He nearly had to duck to get inside; being too skinny didn't help. Virgil was wearing a plain black hoodie over a mcr top, completing the look with a short, pleated skirt and docs. His face was slathered in white foundation, accompanied with dark eyeshadow under his eyes.

"Virge!! I'm glad you could make it, even if you are late!!Again!" Patton hugged his friend, genuinely glad for his presence. The taller man patted Patton's curls awkwardly.

"Heyyyy Pat-" Virgil did the awkward pats on the back everyone does when they want to get out of a hug but don't want to say it in fear of hurting ones feelings. "Traffic-"

Patton withdrew from the hug and smiled. "okay! at least you're here safe! Can't control the traffic"

"Janus is waiting for us upstairs" Patton continued. He hurriedly carried on speaking before Virgil could spit out an insult about xem "say, you know what I hate about stairs? They're always up to something!" Patton laughed at his own joke, whilst Virgil pretended to face-palm, hiding a snigger.

"Alright, Alright dAd, didn't you say snake face was waiting for us?" Virgil mocked. Patton chuckled uncomfortably at the nickname, but nodded nonetheless.

"Yeah, we shouldn't leave xem waiting"

They both entered his room, having walked the short journey there in a comfortable silence. Patton noted Janus had not moved from were he left xem; xey had just shifted to read a book xey most likely found lying around. Janus looked up upon their arrival, xeir face immediately twisting into a mocking grimace upon seeing Virgil. "ah, you brought the racoon"

"Janus play nice--"

"you're one to talk, you participated in 2012 Tumblr" Virgil threw back

"must you be so wounding" Janus dramatically threw xeir hand against xeir forehead.

"okAY, that's enough guys." Patton firmly said. Janus pulled a face in reply, and Virgil returned the favour. Patton sighed. He just wanted them to get along, which was probably a high expectation by itself.

Perhaps he had booze leftover somewhere.

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

Twelve near fist fights, two crying sessions and many, many, many bottles of alcohol later, it was nearing eleven pm and the group was drunker than a litter of catnip high kittens.

They all crowded into a close-knit circle on the bed, nearly falling off but not caring.

"ssso your telling me that flashy asss hhimbo sssssaid I wasss hot but then rude and that I wore too muchh makeup? What a *hic* bitchh" Janus hissed.

Patton giggled. "yeeeeee, be nice though! She was kindaaaa alllllllll over the place!" Patton continued bluntly, "But how would you feel if I set you guys up????~"

"oh pleassssse do, I would just love that" Janus may be trashed but xey still knew sarcasm. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending who you are, Patton did not.

"yayyy! This is gonna be great!!"

Virgil butted in then, waving around the bottle he was holding "hold on, just holllld on a minute there, you're planning to set up that" he vaugly gestured in Janus' direction "with Princy??? Xey've known her for what, 4 minutes? Life isn't a disney movie"

"Dare I detect a hint of jealousy there emo?" Janus purred "am I that lovable?" Xey hiccuped.

"ooooooooh" Patton leaned into the circle, loving the drunk drama.

"wouldn't you like to know weather boy" Virgil droned back, finishing off the bottle.

"Honey, I would dare ssay that was a yesss"

"nO"

"oooooo, you liiiiike meeeEe"

"you disgust me"

"kinky"

Patton shook his hands excitingly at them, nearly hitting Virgil, causing them to shut up. "I can't believe you're finally open to a relationship after what happened! With my best friend no least! Boy did I try to get you to go on more dat--" Patton suddenly clasped his hands over his mouth as if he just said something nasty.

.

.

Everyone went silent. Janus stared at Patron, xeir mouth slightly parted. Virgil laughed nervously to try and break the tension. It sounded strained.

Janus began to speak to stop Patton from starting to spout drunken apologies. "Well thatssss jusst a liee, I've dated pleeenty of people over..well...that...period..of time."

Everyone went silent again, not quite sure on what to say.

Virgil's anxiety was heightening due to the social awkwardness and the influence of the alcohol.

Patton was fidgeting in his lap.

It was Janus yet again who broke the uncomfortable atmosphere.

"Sssso, *hic* you ssaid you wanted me to go out with thisss idiot?"

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

first-previous-next

updated masterpost

tag list: @arrowthenon-binaryroyalty, @spellingwillbethedeathofme,

ask if you want to be added or removed from tag list

and we meet our boi virgil

context is for losers

i could of probably cut out unnecessary things in that but y'know I'm new and I like it

these posts will be in chronological order, unless flashback, but it's not following a set-in-stone story line, so asks are, yet again, much appreciated.

I procrastinated too much during the making of this

[dramaqueeenamby]

𝐑𝐞𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 ♦︎ 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝐷𝑎𝑟𝑘𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔

Summary: He’d searched for centuries to find the sun summoner. What he never expected was for someone to uncover the sun within him. In which the darkling finds himself on a journey with a powerful Grisha who may just uncover the humanity trapped within.

A/N: I am terrible with updating regularly, but here is the second part! If you're actually interested in this hodgepodge of a story, I've updated six parts/chapters on ArchiveOFOurOwn.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my OC and the non-canon parts.

Words: 2.8K // Pairings: The Darkling x OC // Warnings: None, yet.

Functions weren’t Milena’s thing. To be honest, any type of public outing ranked on the not so pleasurable side of the scale. And it wasn’t due to introversion or shyness but rather discomfort and unease for other reasons. As someone who’d spent their entire life moving from place to place and keeping their head down as to avoid garnering attention, being the subject of a setting created unease.

So, when Milena learned that the Grisha were holding a somewhat “party” in the Little Palace and she was expected to attend, she was less than pleased. For one, people. For two, Zoya. They hadn’t exactly hit it off upon their first meeting. In fact, the only hitting occurred when Zoya sent Milena flying into a stack of logs in what was supposed to be a hand-to-hand combat training session.

Milena, of course, returned the favor, despite the scolding she received from Botkin

Third, she just….didn’t want to.

Too many people had already asked her too many questions. Questions about her power, her parents, where she’d been, was she the sun summoner. It was just all too much, hence her sneaking away to find solace in the palace gardens.

Everyone seemed eager to be at the party, so it was a safe place of solitude and silence.

Some of her favorite things.

“I believe the banquet is inside, is it not?”

Naturally, Milena jumped and had her arms up, ready to attack, only to be met with the smug expression of General Kirigan.

She relaxed, slightly, enough to lower her arms. Milena bowed her head and mustered a low, “sir.”

He clasped his hands behind his back. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Be respectful. Milena didn’t know if it was the fact that she hadn’t made the best first impression or his frustration with her lack of progress in their training, but she sensed the edge in his voice. After all, he seemed convinced that she was afraid of something, which was hindering her growth.

Whatever.

Regardless, it didn’t escape her how he seemed to take pleasure in toying with her, or maybe being a prick was just something he enjoyed having as a defining trait. Whatever the case, it was getting old. Real old.

“I prefer being alone,” was all she said, eager, though not hopeful, that he would understand the underlying meaning. Leave me be.

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” she answered, confidently, looking at him head on. Gone were the days of staring at the ground. She refused to do that any longer. “And as this is your palace, shouldn’t you be at your own banquet?”

He smiled, and Milena nearly doubled back. For as long as she’d known him, the only two emotions and expressions she’d known him to emote were irritation and anger. Perhaps, maybe, amusement, but even that was cleverly hidden behind narrowed eyes and closed lips. And now, the bastard was smiling?

“Fair enough.” She wasn’t expecting that. What exactly she was expecting, she didn’t know, but she knew it wasn’t that. “May I?”

He gestured to the seat near the fountain where she stood. Hesitantly, she nodded, watching him take a seat. Milena decided to occupy herself, searching the garden beds for a petal or something else that could be taken without issue.

“How are you adjusting to life in the Little Palace?”

She couldn’t help the snort that left her mouth at that question. Milena considered lying. Would it be disrespectful to tell him that she contemplated running away at least once a week?

“Well, aside from Zoya trying to kill me, Baghra hating me, and being gawked at like some object by everyone else, I must say, it has been quite the adventure.” Rolling her eyes, she looked over at him to see that he was no longer smiling, the familiar scowl returning.

“You do not have to worry about Zoya anymore.”

Milena spun around, eyes widening. “Is she…”

“Taking time off to reevaluate her priorities,” he finished. Milena wanted to know more but she decided not to push. “And pay Baghra no mind, she cares for few—”

“I didn’t know she could care.” He looked at her, prompting Milena to drop her gaze and apologize. “Sorry.”

He said nothing, skipping to his next question. “Is your room satisfactory?”

At that, her eyebrow quipped. Out of everything, having such luxurious rooming accommodations ranked at the top of her list of reasons to stay. “Well, I’ve never had warming stones put in my bed before, so that’s been a nice change.” She located a three-leaf clover, twisting it in her hands as she leaned back against the stone edging so that she was facing him. “It’s nice having Genya. She doesn’t gawk or probe. I like that.”

“I thought you preferred being alone.”

“I do,” she affirmed, sighing and shaking her head. “I’ve-I’ve always been alone. It’s...it’s all I know.”

Why she was saying that, to him of all people, she hadn’t a clue. In fact, Milena suddenly realized just how strange the nature of this conversation was. Never had he inquired about sentiments toward trivial manners such as her enjoyment, or lack thereof, of her time at the palace. And now, she was divulging beyond surface level feelings.

Milena opened her mouth to change the subject when she realized that he was no longer sitting down but standing up just a few mere inches away. “You are Grisha, Milena.” A beat. “You are not alone.”

She swallowed. Milena didn’t know what to say to that. Did she believe him? Not necessarily. Having gifts in common with others did not equate undying loyalty. She’d never been able to trust and depend on anyone, so how could he expect his mere words to reverse a lifetime of trauma?

Milena relaxed ever so slightly when he moved back, turning to leave. Without thinking, she called after him, prompting him to turn around.

“Why are you training me?” She didn’t intend to ask him anything else, especially since he was leaving her to her much desired solitude. And yet, the sight of him walking away irked her to a certain degree. For what reason, she hadn’t a clue. “You don’t train anyone else.”

“You are not like anyone else.”

She scoffed and looked away. “So, I’ve been told.”

He studied her. “Tell me, are you so anxious to be like everybody else?”

She laughed bitterly. “It would be nice to know how that feels someday...general.”

He continued to examine her, as if he was trying to figure something out. Figure her out. “Well, that day is not today.”

“Nor will it be any other day,” she chucked sadly, turning back around to stare at her reflection in the pond. Milena frowned. Another day of seeing a stranger.

Eyes falling to the side, she made out the General’s reflection. He was now beside her. “What do you see?”

She sighed, fingers dancing in the water, creating waves of ripples. “Someone’s reflection of me.”

“Or perhaps the real you is finally emerging.”

She turned to look at him, discovering that he was already staring at her. Suddenly, self-conscious, she turned away with an awkward smile. “If this is the real me, why do you push me so much?”

His answer surprised her. “Because I can see it. You can’t.”

“Are you familiar with disappointment?”

“In all my years, I’ve never seen a Grisha who can do what you can.” He informed, honestly, and again, Milena suspected no subterfuge. He was being genuine. “You are special, Milena, but it will mean nothing if you don’t stop holding back.”

“You keep saying that, but I’m n—”

“What happened to your parents?”

Her mouth dried and stomach immediately knotted. What reason did he have to go there or to even ask what he already knew? Again, she was reminded how awful the Black General could be.

“You kno—”

“Tell me.”

She pursued her lips as her jaw clenched. “They were killed. Betrayed by friends who found out they were Grisha. Burned alive.”

His gaze was so intense, she should have looked away, but she didn’t. She maintained eye contact.

“And you’ve been hiding ever since, hiding who you are, hiding what you can do—”

“So I could stay alive—”

“So what is your reason now, Ms. Belarus?”

At that, her stomach settled, and defensiveness waned. He had her there.

His words replayed in her mind for the rest of the evening, even as she laid in bed, unable to sleep, her mind a vast bat of conflicting feelings.

She never considered that she was holding back. She was able to utilize all three of her gifts, so how could she be holding back? Then she thought, really thought about what not only the General had been telling her, but Baghra said as well.

And gradually, it started coming to her. The quickness in which she put out the flames, she way she would rush and hide when using her squaller abilities, the terror that filled her being when she sped up or stopped someone’s heart.

She lived in a constant state of anxious panic, fear that she would meet the same fate of her parents.

“Who are you holding back for?”

“My parents,” she whispered, grasping at her eyes, wetness pooling at her fingertips.

Frustrated, she sat up, pulling her legs to her chest. This wasn’t how she expected to spend her night, encountering and swallowing hard truths that she’d managed to dodge up until now. The reason she continued to doubt herself was because she feared the same judgment and persecution as her parents. Even more, there was a difference between choosing to be alone because of feared rejection, and solitude out of necessity. Along the way, those two ends had meshed, and she’d lost where the truth lied.

Up until now.

Wiping at her eyes, Milena kicked the blankets off her body and swung her legs around so that they dangled off the side of her bed. Gripping the edge of the mattress, she stared at the ground, taking a slow, deep breath before standing up. Milena walked toward the door, grabbing a silver robe along the way. She loosely tied it so that her white nightgown with the low neck was somewhat concealed, though not completely.

Where she was going, she knew not, she just allowed her feet to do the thinking for her, which may or may not have worked in her favor. She found herself outside of the General’s room, but instead of like most in the palace, his door was open and he was awake. She looked in and saw that he was standing by the war table, back toward her.

Milena could have sworn she was quiet enough to avoid detection, but he still turned around. Milena realized that he was also in his robe, stark black. Of course. He looked surprised, but not annoyed, by her presence.

“Milena.”

She straightened and laid her hand on the door, swallowing. “I’m sorry. I—am I disturbing you?”

Yes.

“Not at all.” He unfolded his arms. “Can’t sleep?” With a small smile, she shook her head and gradually started to enter his room, halfway expecting him to stop her. “Come in.”

She paused momentarily, waiting for him to change his mind, but once again, he didn’t. Instead, he reached for a small glass of what she supposed was wine and offered it to her. “Here.”

She accepted the drink, bringing it to her mouth to sniff for any unfamiliar or strange scents. She found none and took a sip, eyes falling over to the table while his attention remained on her. Milena quietly cleared her throat and gestured to the pawns. “Is this map current?”

“It is.” He followed her line of vision to see the makeup of the map only to look back at her again. “Our enemies are threatened by your mere existence.”

Milena looked away, a small sense of guilt eating at her. He was referring to her discovery. In the midst of moving from one town to another after noticing strange looks of the townsfolk, the saints were clearly not on her side as she unknowingly walked into the middle of a battle between the Second Army and the drüskelle. Initially, her plan was to lay low and avoid being killed, but she quickly realized that was not an option. She was forced to use her power, all three variations, rendering the fjerdans and the grisha nearly speechless. For the fjerdans who survived, they returned with tales of her, her abilities, and for the grisha, she was suddenly a new recruit. It was all so unexpected and sudden, and Milena often felt as though everything was happening far too quickly.

He continued. “There is talk of uprising in the West.” He began to inch away from her, nearing a poster of Zlatan, the First Army General. “Led by our….esteemed First Army General.”

Milena noticed a sudden chill in the room as patches of light became obscured by growing shadows. Confused, she quickly realized they were General Kirigan’s doing. “Our own people, turning their backs on us.”

Milena saw the anger brimming, the way he stared with quiet hate at the poster, the table, the whole thing. Unconsciously, she moved toward him. “General--”

“I have been fighting this war….alone....for so long.” With each pained statement, Milena found herself moving closer toward him as the darkness continued to fill the room. This was more than anger. It was grief. “I have buried so many good soldiers…..friends.”

She placed her glass down and realized she was merely inches away from him. Milena ignored the urge to touch him. She’d never seen him this vulnerable, his ardent anger on full display in a simmering manner which made him appear even more dangerous. Loud anger was palpable, but quiet rage was unpredictable.

“The coffers are running dry, the noose….tightens, and our own people are turning against grisha just as their kin once did.”

Milena was unsure of what to do in that moment. The room was completely dark, save for specks of light that entered through the bottom of the door. His words cut through her life a knife. For the first time, she realized just how much of a heavy weight this man carried. And she sympathized with him. Greatly.

Reacting on pure instinct rather than protocol or logic and repressing her reluctance, she placed her hand on his wrist, tugging slightly. He angled his body toward her, allowing Milena to grab both of his wrists. She looked up at him, quieting the voices in the back of her head that told her her conduct was out of line. Focusing, she detected his erratic heartbeat and worked to calm him, speaking when she realized he was relaxing.

“You are not alone,” she echoed his words from only a few hours prior. This time, Milena studied him, observing how his eyes burned into her with a plethora of emotions: confusion, irritation, peace. Gradually, the shadows receded, and the light returned.

In more than one way.

The Darkling suddenly dropped her hands. She prepared to move back, accepting whatever disciplinary action he thought necessary. Not only had she initiated contact, but she’d used her powers on him without permission. That had to be grounds for some type of punishment.

But instead, she quietly gasped when he brought his right hand to her face, his hands so large that it encompassed nearly the entire right side of her face. She almost flinched, his touch was so cold. Kirigan tugged her closer. She was tempted to lay her hands on his chest.

“I’ve never…” He seemed at a loss for words, something she found astonishing for someone who always radiated such avid confidence. Milena found herself focusing on his mouth, only to realize he was staring at hers as well. “I have been waiting a long time for you.”

Milena hadn’t a clue what to say or even how and if she could or should respond to such a thing. What exactly did he mean? From what she’d learned, the Darkling had always been in search of a Sun Summoner. She was no Sun Summoner. She was simply a grisha with above average gifts, hardly a saint. So, what exactly was the reason behind his quiet confession?

Unsure and now uncomfortable, Milena forced herself to pull away. She could not ignore the drop in her stomach when she moved so that he was so no longer cupping her face. “I should go.”

He opened his mouth to say something, prompting Milena to turn away and amble out of his room. Though the door was open when she arrived, she closed it, leaning against it as she caught her breath. She swallowed and thought about what happened, face warm and heartbeat unsteady, even if she didn’t understand it.

Milena felt overwhelmed with emotions. She’d oscillated through so many feelings in less than 24 hours. She was exhausted and only remained outside his door for a few moments before she wisely hurried away back to her room, unaware that he was also on the other side of the door, also struggling to understand what had just occurred.

[artificialqueens]

Hotel California, Chapter 5 (Gigi/Jackie) - Roza

summary: jackie is beginning to struggle with her own anxiety and worry about the situation at home while gigi seems to be in nothing but an utter euphoria.

author's note: thank you jankie candle for all the support and to meg for being my wonderful beta! I hope you all enjoy and tumblr is @leljaaa as always xx

AO3 Link / My Tumblr: @leljaaa / ( ´◡‿ゝ◡`)

— *.✧

Three fateful days had passed since Gigi and Jackie had officially slept with one another.

Jackie kept track, it was something of importance to her.

It was definitely a bold move on both of their parts but especially the Persian who was still the refugee, the one who would be twice as targeted for it, the one who would take all of the blunt force and trauma as the news would roll in more and more about the revolution.

Gigi was in utter heaven knowing that she had no restrictions as long as they were alone or decently private and away from everyone else though Crystal caught on rather quickly and it was only natural Jan was told, the blonde smiled wide and gasped the minute the other had told her over the phone.

They giggled softly like high schoolers once again even if in the back of their head they knew that this was not a good idea for either Gigi or Jackie.

Being in love.

Not just being in love but being in love with a refugee from Iran, being hopelessly devoted to Jackie who still had that ticket to Canada set in stone. Gigi attempted to simply convince herself that the eighties would be better and that all of Jackie’s internalized homophobia would eventually cease when the revolution died down.

It has to end eventually doesn’t it?

The American only hoped innocently for things to return as they were as she slowly engulfed herself more and more into the politics of Iran so Jackie would not feel so damn outcast and alone. She was not perfect but it was a step, one that the Persian beside her appreciated leaps and bounds.

Every endeavour together ended with a long and loving kiss before Gigi would become flustered and watch Jackie chuckle at the red speckles across her cheeks.  

She awoke gently to mumbled newscasters going on and on about the current headlines as she realized she had fallen asleep on the couch by mistake. She wished she had fallen asleep with Jackie instead.

“I don’t care,” she groaned out as she took a sip from the already opened can of Pepsi that sat on the coffee table beside the arm of the brown couch. Her fingers tapped every button possible before she reached an international headline that made her eyes widen.

“Breaking news...On the morning after the Shah declared martial law, security forces fired on a large protest in Tehran’s Jaleh Square. At least 100 have been killed as the revolution continues…”

Gigi jumped up as she instantly raced for the door, not caring that she was still in her outfit from last night; Jackie was the only thing on her mind constantly but hearing the news only made her twice as ridden with horror not even being able to imagine what the Perisan felt.

Running down the field as she skipped a long to the complex beside her home did not feel one bit weird, she needed to see how Jackie was doing even in her dusty old dress from the night before where they had managed to make hummus, Gigi failing terribly though the Persian saved the day and made it delightful.

“It’s me,” the blonde yelled as she knocked twice on the wooden door, her lips unknowingly curling into a smile the moment she heard Jackie’s muffled talking from the other side. The door opened as the Persian smiled gently, her eyes utterly red and stained with tears.

She definitely knows what happened.

The Persian pulled her friend into her current home as she sniffled, hands on her hips as Gigi tugged her sleeves and opened her arms. Jackie grinned with a snicker as she felt herself happily drop

“I ran down the hallway as soon as I heard,” she admitted in a faint mumble as Jackie kissed her lips, not wanting to even think about what was currently going on. Gigi was her favourite distraction from her own issues and problems, she would use that to her advantage.

The blonde smirked, always happy to kiss the Persian even if it was more for personal reasons than to be romantic. Her hands dropped down to her waist as she enjoyed the impromptu make out session as best as she could.

Jackie hummed, admitting that this had been an awful day but somehow Gigi managed to take all of the pain away. It was a harsh reality that the Persian had to live with but somehow her happiness came perfectly on time in the form of a slightly shorter, blonde biker with the cutest smile and best one liners.

“I’m convinced we can solve world peace by just kissing quietly,” the Persian smiled as Gigi cackled, nodding her head at the statement.

“Kissing you is like heaven, what can I say?” Gigi mumbled against her lips as Jackie grinned slightly, never one to reject a kiss from her the blonde. Her fingers gently ran through her hair, twirling strands of the curls as the Persian wrapped her arms around her neck.

It was always going to be difficult for Jackie to take in all of these strong, new feelings towards the blonde for multiple reasons but she was simply attempting to win the war against herself and her own preconceived notions.

Just because I am in love with a woman does not make me any less of a human being or any less of a Persian.

They sat on Jackie’s bed together, listening to the birds who chirped outside on the trees as the both of them were silent, tangled together and holding each other.

 “Do you want to go riding together? I can take you for some very overpriced, very mediocre ice cream,” Gigi asked against her skin as Jackie couldn’t help but smile wide and nod her head, entranced.

“I would love to.”

— *.✧

“This is quite nice, do you really find it that awful?” Jackie asked curiously as she licked her pistachio ice cream beside the blonde who seemed to instantaneously devour her mint chocolate chip ice cream in the span of three minutes.

“I think it’s fine just not worth ten dollars but consider this a date,” she winked as the two rubbed shoulders, strolling down the neverending beach and sand that plagued the coastline.

Jackie shrugged, gently beginning to bite her cone curiously as she sighed in relief. She had never lived near a beach her entire life so being near a beach felt like a privilege.

“Do you come here often? The weather is quite lovely, I am surprised no one else is here besides us and the one woman we saw a few minutes ago,” Jackie asked aloud before Gigi shook her head, admitting that Hollywood Beach was never of interest to her unless Crystal and Jan wanted to spend the day in the water or attempt to surf.

“I have never been a huge beach person and I was born at the hospital in Long Beach, a coastal city we have here in the state; the utter irony.”

The Persian sighed in relief as she stared out at the open ocean, wandering if her family was okay as Gigi pressed a kiss to her neck, interlocking their hands tightly as Jackie nervously shook her head, clasping her own hands together.

“Jackie…”

“Not in public,” she whispered, the blonde sighed as she knew that from the beginning it was Jackie’s biggest rule and fear. Gigi beating up and stabbing the two men outside the grocery store a few days ago did not help this sentiment.

“I love you,” she mumbled quietly as the waves crashed onto the shore, their feet becoming wet with the cold Pacific ocean beneath them as Jackie mouthed the words back not skipping a beat.

The Middle Eastern woman stared off into the distance, finding herself stuck in a constant day dream about being back home in Iran, even with the ongoing revolution and then the fantasy of staying in California with Gigi and living the rest of her life by her side.

They spent another two hours laughing aloud on the beach and strolling aimlessly before the heat became unbearable and they wanted to leave and go back to an air conditioned room.

“Do you want to spend the night with me?” Jackie asked out of the blue as they made their way back to Gigi’s motorcycle. The blonde smirked, knowing exactly what that would entail as she nodded heavily.

“That would be perfect,” She added as Jackie hopped up on the bike behind her, arms once again around her back tightly as Gigi took off for the ride back home.

Jackie attempted to focus on all the palm trees or the colorful buildings that molded her vision of California however nothing was being played except that damn headline.

Over and over.

Slowly the revolution grew not only more violent but to a larger international scale, she had to see the news from American outlets and not her own family though Jackie assumed hearing it from home would only be worse.

She had not yet gotten the chance to call her family but planned to do so the next time they went out early or late at night, time zone conversions had become the biggest bitch of all.

Jackie felt lost, she knew Gigi was attempting to at least get a grip on politics and stay informed on the revolution but it did not feel the same as speaking to her best friends or university classmates or family.

Everything she attempted to say felt lost in English, she felt five times dumber and knew that even though everyone complimented her consistently on her well spent degree and her skills in the language she was still the outsider.

Not just the outsider but the Persian outsider.

She was currently the butt of the joke, the insults were all directed her way and she simply had to keep a straight face against all of the accusations and comments.

"My mother didn't raise me to yell at uneducated street rats," she would tell Gigi as hecklers would pass by them on the streets, cussing out Jackie who definitely looked Persian enough to get long stares or subtle glances consistently.

And now, she wasn't just Persian she was a Persian in love with a woman.

Her lips were utterly sealed to her family when it came to the matter of Gigi and her current endeavour and relationship with the blonde.

She simply said that she had met some good American friends around her age that were helping her explore California.

Who knew I would be deep in exploring things besides America.

Jackie simply tried not to think about it though that always proved impossible considering her entire status and story in America was that she was a "helpless" refugee from Iran.

Crystal occasionally spoke to her in comfort, admitting that seeing her mother who had immigrated from Mexico to California almost two decades ago for a better life still being teased simply for being her the moment they left the comfort of Los Angeles or Hollywood was unbearable to hear.

I deserve to be here just as much as someone who was born here.

Gigi parked the motorcycle and turned off the ignition as she gently hopped off, holding Jackie's hand as she dusted down the red romper Crystal had gifted her with a smile.

"You look good in that, so much better than Crystal did," the blonde flirted as Jackie snickered, unable to hold back her laughter upon hearing the comment.

Almost as if on cue the two of them saw the redhead in the distance, across Gigi's house waving in her floral printed Hawiian shirt as Jackie gestured her over.

The blonde cocked a brow, a bit disappointed that they wouldn't be alone as planned though she couldn't possibly complain if their company was her best friend.

"You look so great," Crystal chirped as she adjusted the sleeves for the Persian girl, Gigi grinned in utter heaven staring at Jackie as the redhead snapped her best friend out of the trance.

"We get it you think Jackie is hot," she groaned aloud quietly as the blonde rolled her eyes, punching her shoulder teasingly as Jackie gave a bright smile and pushed her hair back.

"So lovebirds, are you going back to Jackie's place to hang?"

"That was the plan."

Jackie nodded before asking if Crystal would like to join them for some drinks and food for at least an hour or two.

"So polite, I love it," Crystal winked before Gigi coughed wildly, feeling her jealous side begin to peak as she watched the redhead make an attempt to flirt.

Jackie shushed Gigi as the Mexican girl admitted that she could stay for an hour but no more because she had some more work to do for the recreational center.

"Oh shut up, my dad loves you, he's not going to care if you take a few hours off especially not with me."

Admitting defeat, Crystal raised her arms and laughed as she followed the couple back to Jackie's place. The three of them shuffled towards the hallway before the Persian gently opened the door and let Crystal and Gigi enter first, snagging a kiss from the blonde as she walked through the doorway.

"Would you like anything to drink or eat Crystal?" Jackie asked as she opened the fridge, grabbing the bottle of tequila that Gigi had managed to steal from the grocery store a few days ago.

"Your girlfriend is so wonderful Gigi," she teased obnoxiously before giving a thumbs up at the tequila bottle. The blonde scoffed, kissing Jackie's forehead as she grabbed the glasses.

"I've never seen Gigi so speechless, I'm so impressed Jackie," the younger woman admitted as the Persian heard Gigi mumble something along the lines of "I'm speechless every night you just don't get to hear it."

Crystal laughed as Jackie gently grabbed her lover's chin, whispering at her in Farsi to stop speaking so dirty in front of her own friend; somehow expecting for Gigi to understand a lick of what she was saying.

"I don't know what you said but I'm completely turned on right now," she whispered as they pressed their lips together, grinning wildly as Jackie gave Crystal the tequila bottle.

"Cheers to being single!" She awkwardly added aloud as she shotgunned the tequila she had poured. Gigi frowned, defending her best friend and saying that eventually she would find someone.

"I thought I did but clearly she had other plans," Crystal admitted bitterly as Jackie widened her eyes in shock, a bit confused though both her and Gigi turned their attention to Crystal.

"Jaida is happy where she is now, I won't blame her or Jan," the minute the words left Crystal's lips Jackie gasped in shock.

"You and Jaida? I had no idea I'm so sorry," the Persian mumbled as she rubbed Crystal's shoulders for comfort.

"It was only a few months, don't worry about it, of course you had no idea obviously."

"I did not know about this either," Gigi replied a bit angry as Crystal bit her tongue anxiously in front of her best friend, apologising for the long held secret.

"So is that why you two were avoiding conversation at the rink?"

Crystal nodded in silence.

"You will find that person, your soulmate; trust me, it might be in the most unexpected situations," Jackie added sweetly as she smiled at Gigi, gazing at her lover towards the end of her sentence.

"Oh so I'm your soulmate? How romantic," Gigi mouthed as Jackie stuck out her tongue and rolled her eyes.

"I was really in love, what a shame." She hummed before adding that she and Jan had no bad blood about it, it was simply just a lost cause to fight about it at this point.

Jackie could understand, Jaida was extremely attractive and seemed sweet, grounded and intelligent and quite the catch especially for girls as bubbly and extroverted as Jan and Crystal.

"Never say never," Gigi hummed. "In my heart of hearts if you want the truth I still think she's in love with you and not Jan. Give it a solid month or two and I think she will realize that you're the one."

Crystal and Jackie looked beyond interested to how the blonde had come to that conclusion so quickly after just two minutes ago she said that Jan was Jaida's perfect match.

"I might love Jan and think they're cute but I saw her staring at you when you were skating, I'm not stupid."

Jackie ran a hand through her partner's hair as she offered Crystal some food she had prepared last night.

The redhead shook her head, attempting to hide the permanent frown painted across her face.

"No thank you, I'll stick to the alcohol."

— *.✧

Jackie smiled as she felt Gigi wrap her arms around her waist and pull her closer in the bed, the two of them beginning to become sleepy after all the physical activity they had just done to say the very least.

"You're perfect," Gigi mumbled as the Persian beside her flushed not knowing how to genuinely respond to a compliment of such high praise.

"I believe you are also perfect," Jackie finally responded as she ran her fingertip's through Gigi's long, blonde hair as she occasionally planted a kiss near her earlobe.

"So I'm your soulmate?" The American teased beside her before Jackie groaned, admitting that maybe it was a strong choice of words for them only being together for barely two weeks.

"It was beautiful, I almost teared up," Gigi admitted as she tilted Jackie's head back to her own so she could gaze into her eyes.

"My English improves bit by bit," she joked before Gigi shut her lips with another kiss, the two of them giddy and gently melting into every affectionate gesture.

"I hope you never leave," the blonde whispered as she laid her head on Jackie's bare chest with a permanent smile planted on her mouth as she closed her eyes, ready to sleep.

Jackie swallowed her breath, unable to even speak on the matter.

"Goodnight Gigi," she said as she turned off the lamp beside her before running her hands through her partner's hair once again, thinking about all that had managed to happen these past two weeks.

I have to leave but I will keep quiet about that for now.

[melthemischievous]

I’ll Be With You From Dusk Till Dawn

A/N: This is my first time ever writing a fanfic, so I hope you guys enjoy it. I had to sort of leave the story in a cliffhanger, since it was getting a bit long, so there might be another part to it. This was written for @cleolemonfanfiction ‘s Marvel Men Writing Challenge

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Black Reader

Word Count: 2201

Warning: Fluff, and mentions of past trauma

Prompt: Dusk Till Dawn by ZAYN & Sia

Summary: The setting takes place somewhat between the ending of Captain America: Civil War and Black Panther. When a telepathic outcast becomes the caretaker of an outcast on the road to redemption, they form an inseparable bond

  It has been a few difficult months when it came to working with such a broken mind. Hydra was very thorough with their brainwashing program, especially with their super soldier, James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, also known to the world as the Winter Soldier. Any normal doctor or psychologist would’ve given up ages ago, since Bucky’s mind was so damaged. But lucky for him, you were willing to step up to the plate. Not only were you T’Challa, who was to become the new king of Wakanda, and Shuri’s cousin,  but Hydra had also caused you great pain in the past. Despite all the hardships you’ve endured, you took on being Shuri’s assistant in order to prove to yourself that you can be a great use to your country, and to prove that Hydra can’t win.

 Thanks to your telepathic powers and through trial and error, you have made great progress with Bucky. With each passing month, there were many breakthroughs when it came to piecing together the very complexed jigsaw puzzle that was Bucky’s mind. Though very hesitant at first, Bucky had taken quite a liking to you. When he first was unfrozen from his cryogenic chamber, the first thing he saw was you. He saw compassion and intensity in your Y/E/C eyes, but he also noticed that you had scars around your body that looked like stripes.

“Hello, Sergeant Barnes. My name is Y/N,” was the very first thing you’d said to him, and the rest was history. While Bucky was very guarded at first, he slowly was able to bring his walls down when it came to you during your telepathic sessions with him. Little by little, you each were able to open up to each other. He told you about his childhood, his best friend, Steve Rogers; and his time in the army. During the sessions, Bucky learned that you were captured by agents of Hydra at a young age and was tortured relentlessly, resulting in the scars around your body. He also learned that they had experimented on you, which resulted with you receiving telepathic abilities. It took four long years for the Dora Milaje to track down the Hydra base that you were being held prisoner in, but after that incident, you were treated like some sort of outcast. The royal family had kept you under heavy surveillance until you able to fully control your newfound powers. When you were rehabilitated back into society, she were immediately given sympathetic yet scared looks from your fellow Wakandans, even earning yourself the name Omnyama from the small children who couldn’t help but gawk at you . “Even though I’m not self-conscious about my scars anymore, I still feel like if I wasn’t part of the royal family, I would still be tortured and experimented on.” You drifted off, trying to swallow down the sadness that was threating to burst out of you as you recalled those haunting memories. With his right hand, Bucky lightly traced the skin of you cheek with his fingertips, causing you to look at him. Your intense yet sad Y/E/C eyes have captivated him yet again, causing his heart to skip a beat. Still keeping his hand on your cheek and keeping his eyes on you, he said, “I don’t mean to be forward, Y/N, but when I first laid eyes on you, I thought you were beautiful, even with your scars.  With everything that Hydra has done to you, I admire the fact that you don’t let it define you. The strength and courage you carry makes you even twice as beautiful, and I’m so thankful that you’re the one helping me. And to be honest, I’m so damn happy that I’m not alone.” With that confession, it caused you to let go of a single tear. A simple, “Thank you,” was all that you could let out. From that day on, a spark grew between the two of you.

Not tryna be indie

Not tryna be cool

Just tryna be in this

Tell me, are you too?

Over time, you were able to convince Shuri and even T’Challa to give Bucky a room in the palace in order to further evaluate him, and to also give him a sense of normalcy. During your time together in the palace, you and Bucky were able to get to know each other on a more personal level, especially since the two of you had the habit of going to each other’s rooms to hang out.  The both of shared your interests and your likes and dislikes, even when it came to music. “Music use to be simple back in my day, but the stuff that is out now in this day and age is complete garbage, “ said Bucky, rubbing his temple with his only hand. “Geez, you sound like an old man! Not all music is garbage nowadays,” you retorted, twirling some loose strands of his hair around your fingers. Bucky looked up at you, arching his eyebrows, “Oh yeah? Care to enlighten me? And for the record, I may be over a 100 years old, but as you can see, I don’t look old.” With the way the he was looking at you, you became a blushing mess. “I-I don’t know! There’s lots of music that is good out there. E-Especially the ones that have a deeper meaning to them or story within the lyrics. I can’t name ones of the top of my head right now, but there’s plenty of them.” Bucky let out a slight chuckle, “You’re so cute.” Clearing your throat, you tried to gather your composure. “We just have to find music that suits you. I honestly take you for a Rolling Stones kind of guy.” “Well…,”Bucky sat himself up, facing you directly to give you his full attention, “I’ll definitely check out their music since you have such interesting tastes,” he said giving her a soft smile, one that was filled with adoration, but with a hint of seduction. With that being said, you couldn’t help but to let out a soft giggle, “You won’t be disappointed.”

Can you feel where the wind is?

Can you feel it through

All of the windows

Inside this room?

In that moment, something went through Bucky like a bolt of lightning. With all the time that he has spent with you, he has viewed you like a little sister or a very close friend, but this time is so different. He wasn’t so sure about his feelings at first, but at this very moment, he is certainly positive that he has deeper feelings for you. Just everything about you was so intoxicating to him, and oh God, the way you looked at him with those intense Y/E/C. He just wants to drain in them and never return to the surface.

‘Cause I wanna touch you baby

And I wanna feel you too

I wanna see the sunrise

On your sins just me and you

Bucky leaned into you, gathering up the courage to prepare himself for what he is about to do next. He reach out with his hand and gingerly stroked your cheek. You were slightly taken aback when Bucky softly planted a soft kiss on your lips, but then returned the kiss, coming to the realization that you too had strong feelings for him. Within that moment, you both started to passionately kiss each other, and before you even knew it, you both were getting into a fierce make out session. Bucky desperately wanted his primal male instincts to take control, but his old-fashioned side got the better of him. He broke away from the kiss, but kept you cuddled up against him. From all the excitement you’ve gotten into, you had said something in Wakandan that caused Bucky to laugh. “I take it that what you just said was a good thing?” Through labored breath, all you could mustered up was a simple, “Yeah.”  After that excitement, a few hours had passed with the both of you just cuddling up in bed, enjoying each other’s presence.

Light it up, on the run

Let’s make love tonight

Make it up, fall in love, try

 The day that T’Challa ascends the throne has finally arrived, and everyone has been ripping and running to make preparations for the coronation. Your main focus was supposed to be on the coronation, but all you could think about was spending the day with Bucky. Even though the two of you enjoy spending time together listening to music and watching movies in each other’s rooms, you have yet to have a proper first date. The amount of time that the two of you had spent time together hasn’t gone unnoticed by your cousins, especially with your aunt, Queen Ramonda. Your cousins were somewhat acceptant of you and Bucky, but it didn’t exempt you from constant teasing. Your aunt on the other hand wasn’t afraid to show her concerns about you spending excessive amount of time with Bucky. She strongly believed that Bucky was supposed to be your ward and nothing more, but she did understand your need to make an outsider feel welcomed. “Now, Y/N, I need you to be on your best behavior today. Don’t forget that your cousin’s ascension to the throne is important to us all. I know that your emotions are running strong for this man, but you cannot afford to be distracted,” the queen said, trying not to sound hard but stern. You lowered your head, wanting to fight back with a retort but knew it would be futile. “Yes, Aunt Ramonda,” was all you could say. “Good…now get ready. We all need to look our best for our future king.” You’ve left the queen’s chambers a bit frustrated, but you have been formulating a plan to spend some quality time with Bucky after the coronation.

It was midday when everyone was preparing to go on the boats to the ceremonial site. You were dressed in a ceremonial gown that represented the royal family’s colors, and your face was adorned with ceremonial markings. You’ve promised your aunt and your cousin that you’ll meet them on the boat, but you couldn’t help but to visit Bucky. When you got close to Bucky’s sleeping chambers, there were two guards keeping watch. You had given them the Wakandan salute, which they had given in return, temporarily relieving them as you’ve entered into the room with the biggest smile on your face. “Wow…,” was all Bucky could say once he caught sight of you, which made you blush. “Stop it,” you said, letting out a small giggle. “What? Can’t help that your beauty amazes me every single time a see you,” he smiled, wrapping you in his embrace. “You and your chivalry,” you said as you lean into him to give him a soft kiss upon his lips, “I’ll be away for a few hours, but I think I have a way for us to have an actual date tonight.” “Isn’t the guy supposed to take a girl out on a date?” Bucky said, tilting his head. “Times are changing, old man,” you said teasingly, giving him a kiss on the cheek.  “I have an idea in mind, but I’ll let you in on the details as soon as I get back. I’ll be back before you can say when.” “When,” he gave a playful pout, making it even harder for you to go to the coronation since he looks so damn adorable. “I promise that tonight would absolutely be perfect.” The two of you gave a last embrace before you left for the ceremony.

But you’ll never be alone

I’ll be with you from dusk till dawn

I’ll be with you from dusk till dawn

Baby, I am right here

Several hours had passed, and everyone in Wakanda was in full celebration mode. Once T’challa was crowned king, you immediately went back to the palace to meet up with Bucky. When you got into his room, you jokingly expressed to him that the coronation was a completely snore fest, but he knew that you were immensely proud of your cousin. You had then taken his hand into yours and lead him over to the bed. Once you both sat on the bed, you began explaining your romantic rendezvous. “I honestly think that you’re ready to rejoin society,” you blurted out. With that statement, Bucky immediately became hesitant. “I-I don’t think I’m ready, Y/N. I know that I don’t feel Hydra’s influence on me anymore, but I don’t think society would be so acceptant of me, “Bucky huffed, getting up from the bed. “I feel like that there’s so much blood on my hands, that I don’t deserve a second chance like this.” You immediately went in front of him, placing both of your hands on his cheeks, “Hey, everything is going to be alright, and you know that I won’t let anything happen to you.” A sudden calming wave went through Bucky’s body, which he knew was your telepathic abilities taking full effect. Once he had felt calm again, he was eager to find out what you had in store for your date.

 A/N: The word Omnyama was the closes translation to the Xhosa language (which was the language used for the people of Wakanda if some of you didn’t know) for the word Black Tiger.

[musicallisto]

☠ Dork of a Best Friend (Dan Pierce)

anon requested: Maybe like a ilitw dan x mc where they aren’t together yet and dan is jealous of one of the other guys relationship with the mc and so he watches as they flirt with mc but finally tells her how he feels. Angst at first then whatever you want in the end (just as long as they end up together :) )

word count: 2000+ words

summary: In which Dan tries to concile all the contradictory feelings in his heart, including his very weird attraction for his best friend and his anger when seeing her with Noah.

author notes: Jealousy, a little bit of angst but not much, happy ending! :)

It started out as a silly, middle-grader crush, really. Dan was sure of it. He couldn’t have had feelings for her before, even minor - it was when he entered ninth grade and people all around him started to make a real fuss about dating and love. But as a ninth grader, Dan had no idea about love or its intricate physics, so he didn’t really pay attention to the mixed signals his mind and body sent him when he made eye contact with his childhood best friend. He restrained the intrusive thoughts in the middle of a History class that reminded him of how beautiful she had gotten over the summer once again and shot down the butterflies in his stomach when their fingers brushed oh-so-lightly. He ignored it all, convinced it would go away, that he was just too attached to Devon - in a friendly way, of course. What other way could it be? - and it would go away with time when he would start to understand a little more about girls.

Four years later, he was almost done with high school and still had no idea about girls nor the mixed signals he got around Devon.

Especially not the nausea and irrepressible need to punch something or someone whenever he saw Noah and Devon together, pressed on a couch at a house party none of them really wanted to attend, killing time by telling endless stories. Dan had observed them more than once, smiling at each other timidly in the hallways and meeting after school to take a walk through the town, keeping a respectable distance to the woods, as though they were something sacred and redoubtable. He had seen Noah shudder when his eyes wandered off and found the tall shadow of the trees, and he had seen Devon place a comforting hand on his shoulder and worriedly scan his face. He didn’t have any right to feel this way - Noah had always been Devon’s favorite, and as far as he could remember, she had always had a sweet, young crush on the boy with cold, denim laughs and mud eyes. Dan was the one Devon had told about her attraction, a seven-year-old little girl smiling proudly “I’m going to marry Noah! But don’t tell him!” - and Dan had always been relegated to the background, to the role of the best friend, the adviser, and never to be more.

He couldn’t possibly tell her the truth. He couldn’t possibly tell her that he feared the young woman smiling proudly had captured his heart and would never give it back.

So he stayed silent. Kept quiet. It was what he had always done, and what he was best at; not saying a word, pretending everything was under control, when in reality he was falling down a rabbit hole every day and had no roots, no miraculous stone to hang onto and climb his way back. He played football every day, more than he ever had, surrounded himself with the most popular, the most superficial he could find, those who could help him forget. Numb. He skipped more than a few sessions with his psychiatrist, claiming he wasn’t feeling well one day, he had to focus on his work another, he had football practice yet another.

And before he knew it, a thousand empty smiles and filled red cups had replaced the one brimming smiled he had ever cared about.

They stopped talking. It was a soft process, there were no arguments, no insults nor knives thrown to the chest, no betrayal, no cold shoulder for days. There was no dramatic scene in front of the high school, no running away from a party, eyes watery, escaping from the couples slow-dancing to Creep to the freshness of the night.

It was a soft process. Progressive. Discreet. But it didn’t hurt less. Actually, it probably was the most painful way Dan could have ever ended his friendship with his long-time crush. It was crossing her path in the hallways, the two too timid, too ashamed to say hi, to even look at each other. It was abnormal, straight stares, up ahead, avoiding at all costs the football jersey and the whimsical brown curls. It was the disappointment in Devon’s shoulders, slumping sadly after Noah informed her that for the first time in years, Dan had come home without her. It was Dan’s parents’ perplexity when Devon’s birthday came up and he refused to call her, vaguely explaining they “hadn’t talked much lately”.

It was just like that. It was what once was the strongest stainless steel bridge between two children that was rusting, attacked, bitten by the claws of time, of misunderstandings, of jealousy, and of trials. And it was painful because, even if they would have never admitted it, preferring showing their powerful side to their respective friends, both silently hoped that the other would have the courage to build back the bridge.

But the bridge remained hopelessly collapsed for three years of high school.

And as ridiculous as he sounded at the unhealthy hours of the morning, tossing and turning in the middle of yet another insomnia, he couldn’t help seeing Noah standing on the other side of the broken bridge, far, far away from him, his arm surrounding Devon’s shoulder.

He knew Devon had always been brave, loyal, and quite short-tempered; it hadn’t been a difficult aspect of her personality to grasp, only evolving more and more as the years passed. He could remember clearly a nine-year-old standing up for him in the middle of a crowded school playground, overflowing with cruel kids, their mockery, his traumas. He could remember clearly an outraged nine-year-old pointing inquisitive fingers, yelling “shut up! You don’t know anything! Dan is braver than any of you!”. That was how Devon had always been. She stood up for her friends. She never let them behind; she’d rather die than live with the guilt that one of her loved ones was in pain and she had done nothing about it. She stood her ground. Firm. Tough.

And despite that certain portrait of Devon, despite every time she had proven him wrong in the eighteen years he had known her, he didn’t expect her to walk up to him and demand an explanation.

“Hey, Dan, I think it’s about time you tell me what’s going on,” an unmistakable voice suddenly rang in his ears as he was picking up his notebooks in his locker.

A lightning ball struck him in an instant. It had been months since he had heard that voice, bearer of all his most prized childhood memories, of all his courage and hope. It had been months since he had heard her, and maybe even longer since he had last talked to her. He had thousands of things to tell her, millions - but his mouth was dry and his throat obstructed by months of doubt and introspection.

So he kept quiet and simply turned to her.

A crevice had crawled its way to her forehead, showing her worry, and her eyes raced all around his face, searching for the smallest of fissures, the smallest of signs of weakness, anything that could explain his behavior for the past months... but Dan knew her too well, and knew himself too well. He knew she would use any crack to break him to pieces, to have the upper hand, and she wouldn’t leave without it, without an apology or a marble statue at her feet. So he contracted his muscles and remained perfectly still, emotionless.

“What do you mean?” he asked, his voice low, his lips straight, his words blank.

“What do I mean?” she exclaimed, obviously scandalized. Her wrath came in waves and crashed down onto the poor boy, making it harder and harder for him to stay on course. “What do I mean? You’re the one who’s been ignoring me for months for no reason at all! I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you’ve never acted this way before and- and I’ve tolerated but I deserve better than being left on read by my best friend.”

He bitterly retained a laugh. My best friend. How long would it take before she understood? Before she realized? Before she opened her eyes and stopped being so damn clueless, all secluded in her isolated tower? He didn’t want to be her best friend! He liked her!

Stand perfectly still. Emotionless. Over all of that. Over her. He could do it. He had spent months doing it. A second more wouldn’t change anything.

“Let it go,” he sighed, his shoulders slumping as he turned away from the girl, proceeding to stack up his books.

“No. No, I won’t let it go,” she fiercely bit back, leaning one hand on the side of his locker, preventing him from avoiding the confrontation like he had cowardly done for months. “Damn it, Dan, I want to know what’s going on.”

“Nothing’s going on,” the young boy shrugged, his voice more abrupt and cold than he had wanted. “You can go back to your Noah,” he spat.

The two teenagers froze in place. The coldest of silences hung around them, enveloping them in its noxious embrace. Realization was crawling its way up to their two skulls: Dan had only just heard his previous words, which had escaped from his lips like a reflex, a defensive barrier against intruders; and Devon, paralyzed like after the passing of a raging storm, was witnessing all the clouds shatter in her mind, all the gray areas scattering, revealing the true reason why her best friend had stopped talking to her so brusquely.

“So... so that’s why you stopped talking to me?” she asked, softer this time, her voice a single murmur like the unsure whisper of a waterfall. “Because... because I started spending more time with Noah and you were jealous?”

Dan bit his lower lip and closed his eyes, breathing deeply. It was not supposed to go this way. She was going to uncover his secret feelings and it wasn’t the way he would have wanted it; she would laugh, she would mock him, and he would lose her for good this time. All because of Noah!

“I... I thought you were better than that,” she admitted with an incredulous laugh, shaking her head. “So that’s it? You couldn’t bear not being the center of my world so you just... disappeared? Ignored me because I had other friends? I never thought you were that self-cent-”

“You’re really gonna make me say it, aren’t you?” he muttered with a nervous chuckle.

“Say what? That you’re a suppressed narcissist an-”

“That I like you!” he yelled, slamming the door of his locker shut.

And she stood there, immobile, pierced by a knife right through her open chest, lips parted, and he stood there, scanning her furiously, taking his head in his arms and breathing heavily.

“I like you and it’s stupid because I know you like Noah and you’ve always liked Noah and I’ve never been more than the best friend but I was jealous because you spend all your time with him and never with me and I couldn’t stand it anymore and I would understand it if you hated me a-”

Soft, careful hands lifted his chin up and he found himself silent in front of the deepest of concerned browns.

“Why didn’t you just tell me you liked me?”

“Tell you?!” he choked out. “No! You... you would have laughed or told me we are better off as friends or-”

“No,” Devon assured quietly, a sweet shade of pink on her cheeks betraying the nature of her thoughts. “No, because I... I kind of like you too...”

“See, you would’v- wait, what?”

Her laugh tinkled deliciously before she reduced the space between their lips and initiated the sweetest kiss Dan had ever dreamed of. They parted after a few seconds and Dan hadn’t moved a muscle, too stunned to process everything that was going on.

“So... so that means you don’t want to marry Noah anymore?” he stammered, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

Devon giggled, ruffling the boy’s hair affectionately. She had missed her dork of a best friend - and hopefully now, something more.

[recentanimenews]

Mushoku Tensei: Jobless Reincarnation – 02 – Facing the Outside

Most isekai anime never return to the protagonist’s original world after the first episode, but as Rudy grows older and more accustomed to his new life as a little kid, his trauma begins manifesting as flashes of that previous life. First, we’re presented with a Rudy who skips his parents’ funeral so he can jerk off in his bedroom.

When three goons break in, he runs away, sees a truck about to hit some high school students, and runs into its path, resulting in the death we saw last week. The only connection between this opening scene and the next one in the new world is that it involves someone masturbating, which Roxy is doing as she hears Rudy’s parents screw.

While he’s glad he saw her, as perv as Rudy is even he knows better than to disturb her, or even acknowledge he saw her. The empathy his displays underscores the promise of his new life: the chance to properly develop mentally, something that wasn’t possible in his old life. It’s also an early hint of the respect he gains for Roxy, who isn’t just his master, but his first friend…in either life.

Six months, then a year pass since Roxy arrived, and Rudy is making fast progress with his magic, and no longer passing out after expending it. Roxy looks upon this progress with pride, but also a sense of sad inevitability: soon he’ll easily surpass her as a mage and she’ll have nothing left to teach him. As for the green-haired demonic “Superd” she warns him about, Rudy already knows about monsters from his past life.

In his previous life, Rudy was brutally bullied at school, regularly stripped down, tied up, and photographed by leering, laughing gawkers. Though we’re seeing things purely from his POV there’s no reason to think he’s embellishing things, and we see that this treatment led him to cease moving forward. He retreated into the safety of his room, where he remained in stasis.

Even though his two worlds couldn’t look any more different (a contrast that’s well-executed by the visuals), he feels the same fear of the outside beyond his family’s land as he did leaving his room, or even looking out his window. When Roxy recommends he attend Ranoa Magic University in the Red Dragon Mountains to further his training, he brushes it off as unnecessary; he’ll be just fine where he is, with Roxy.

Of course, Rudy is deluding himself. Roxy is a great teacher, but as he reaches five years old (the first of three 5-year intervals birthdays are celebrated in this world) they’re quickly approaching the point when Roxy has nothing left to teach him. To remain home would stunt his development, both as a mage and as a person.

For his fifth birthday Rudy receives a tome from his mom, a sword from his dad, and a wand from Roxy, along with the announcement that he’ll use the wand for his imminent graduation exam. The magic they’ll be learning is dangerous, so they must travel away from home. The prospect of going outside causes Rudy to freeze up; as Roxy aptly puts it, he’s finally “acting his age.”

Roxy assures him there’s nothing to fear, and helps him exorcise his past life’s demons simply by being her wonderful self. As they ride past other villagers, Rudy wants them to stop staring at him, but then realizes they’re staring at Roxy, who in just a year was able to win the entire village over despite the prejudice surrounding people with hair her color.

With nothing left to fear of the new land in which he finds himself, Rudy watches Roxy pull of the biggest magical spell yet, summoning a huge storm that accidentally injures the family horse, Caravaggio. Thankfully he’s easily healed up and then placed in a protective shell when it’s Rudy’s turn to cast the spell.

As with the magical trials Fran puts Elaina through in Wondering Witch, the full terrible potential of elite-level magic is fully realized by the surpassing visuals, as the idyllic landscape is entirely greyed out by blinding sheets of rain, only to emerge more beautiful than before, with tinges of pink and violet in the blue skies.

Rudy passed his first two big tests of life in his new world: stepping outside, and passing his final exam with Roxy. With that passage, there truly is nothing else Roxy can teach him. While I half-expected him to press further for her to stay—either by becoming the village’s resident mage or, say, becoming his dad’s third wife—Rudy isn’t the only one who needs to move forward, and Roxy intends to travel the world, re-hone her skills, and see what else she can learn.

So while Rudy is understandably sad to see her go (as are his folks, who fail to hold back tears for her goodbye), he lets her go, thanking her for imbuing him with knowledge, experience, and technique in magic as well as life. He will also never forget that it was Roxy who brought him outside and showed him it was nothing to fear.

While Roxy was little more than a pretty game character made flesh to Rudy when they met, she’s become someone with whom he formed a genuine human connection, learned more than he’d ever imagined, and healed him in a way he’d long thought impossible. For all of that she’ll have his everlasting gratitude and respect.

Of course, Rudy is still Rudy, as we’re reminded when Lilia discovers a pair of Roxy’s underwear he’d stashed away a few months prior to her departure…the little shit! But maybe, just maybe, he’s taken the first steps to becoming a little less of a shit. Baby steps.

Stray Observations:

Looks like Rudy died shortly after his parents. I guess they were the last line of defense that kept the tormentors out of his house.

While the extent of the public torture Rudy endured stretches credulity, I’m not putting anything past human beings after 2020.

Rudy is right about Roxy being at the age where, well, “that kind of thing” is pretty normal, and this being a world that lacks the modern means of taking care of that, listening to two people having sex would have to suffice.

That said, the session we overheard did not result in a baby sibling for Rudy. I presume he’ll get one at some point.

Rudy is not yet much of a swordsman despite Paul’s efforts, but in Rudy’s defense, he’s five. you gotta give the kid a sword his size!

Roxy brings up the Superd, who have green hair and red stones in their foreheads. They started the horrific Laplace War between humans and demons. Rudy visualizes them as similar to Sadako from The Ring.

Seeing the village kids leering with flip phones was hella creepy.

Social status, pride, and even race apparently don’t matter at Ranoa University. I imagine Rudy will be heading there as soon as he’s old enough.

The little aside of Zenith feeding Roxy and Lilia grapes was extremely cute.

Really glad Caravaggio pulled through! Poor horse looked like he was toast—literally.

By: magicalchurlsukui