#sorry its unpolished I just wanted to get the idea down

[voidheartkisses]

Beach episode because even leaders need a vacation

[ghouldtime]

COD TF141 Camp AU

My mind has been stuck on this probably because I was a camp counselor myself at a summer camp. And oh man, what an experience. Cannot get it out of my mind, maybe because I like thinking of them happy in a calmer setting where its much less life and death and just them getting to have a semi peaceful life???

They still use their call signs in this because I know some camps make their counselors pick "camp names" in order to prevent duplicate names, especially if you have a common one. It's to prevent mix ups and is a lot easier for kids to remember. Plus, it's super fun - and carries a small spark of nostalgia for all of them

John Price (Camp Director)

Price is the gruff, rough around the edges camp director that is usually too busy managing the fifty million things that come with an older campgrounds filled with unruly kids/teens

He's one of the few who doesn't use his call sign. He just goes by Captain since that's how they default to him anyways

He's always got a clipboard or walkie talkie in hand, you'll never see him without something occupying his time or his mind alike

These places don't run themselves and he knows all about running a tight ship. He prefers to check things himself and wants to be involved so he knows what's going down

Not to say he doesn't have a sense of humor or is all business, he's great at playing pranks. Sometimes when it comes to new counselors, he'll do things like telling them to go get something for him from the basement. There is no basement, he just thinks it's a good laugh to watch the increasing panic and confusion grow on their faces and times how long it takes them to come back to him for help

He's usually not one to be interacting much with the campers themselves, seeing as he's quite busy elsewhere - and he's been banned from telling campfire stories because his idea of what an entertaining story is is probably closer to something that gives the younger kids nightmares

"It'll toughen them up, they'll hear much worse later in their life" is usually his logic. They'll be exposed to the real world, so might as well give them a taste of what it can bring and with a very cool sorry, thank you very much

As much as the Counselors in Training (CITs) and mainly the younger boys LOVE Price's gritty stories, the others are not so fond of having to explain to the parents why the children suddenly are talking about wanting to take down insurgents just like Captain

He means well and is usually admired, even if he is a bit unpolished at the best of times. As strict and stern as he can be, he's still one there to lend a genuinely listening ear. He's only as tough as he is because he cares, you just have to work around it

If you want to talk to him, you'll mainly catch him out smoking on the back porch of his cabin at night, seeing as he lives there. He knows its a bad habit but it's not one he can easily break and it's a bit of a relaxer after the day he's had

He'll happily let you relax on the porch with him, sitting back in a rocking chair, watching the stars above. It's a nice reminder of the little smaller things in life that he used to miss out on

Simon "Ghost" Riley (Groundskeeper)

Ghost still lives up to his name in the sense that he's barely around during the day, usually being a phantom and a whisper hidden in the shadows

That's mainly because he's not fond of having a lot of attention on him still and kids are a rowdy bunch as is. Throw teenagers into that mix and it's a perfect storm of chaos - one of which he'd rather avoid. He finds it too exhausting mentally and doesn't really have the patience to deal with that day in, day out

Not to mention, there's a lot of area to cover in the camp that he takes care of. He'll usually be out in the woods, maintaining the trails during the day when he knows there's not going to be others in the area

It brings him a sense of peace and purpose, allowing him to work on his own and at his own pace without having to deal with the usual hustle and bustle elsewhere around camp. Usually the tasks are quite repetitive and calming to his mind, he finds solace in nature's solitude

That being said, sometimes you can find him helping out with arts and crafts or in that area on very rare occasions - mainly if it's calmer groups or he has already finished all of his work for the day. He likes working with his hands and creating things instead of destroying all the time, it's better for his psyche

While he usually may work on a project on his own, he does occasionally offer his own advice or show the campers some tips and tricks he's learned along the way.

He's more fond of the older teens who he can show things like sewing and embroidery, which he'll often do in his down time, since they can pick it up and often are much calmer than the younger groups

He'll help them with their techniques and will teach them the basics quite happily. It allows for a far more interesting thing to do than the standard friendship bracelets alone

He has a small collection of little plushies and dolls made by some of the campers donated to him, and has a patchwork quilt of all the embroidered squares he's received

As much as he grumbles and complains about some of the campers, there's no denying the warmth in his eyes as yet another one scampers up to him, showing off a little yellow and black thread bee that they made for him

You're welcome to join him as he creates yet another prop or costume to help scare kids who wander into the woods at night. It's for their own safety, really. There's dangerous animals out there. And it's quite amusing to try to convince them that there's such a thing as the weresquatch (Soap's idea)

He has a grade A sense of humor still, as long as you like dad jokes, and will happily say enough of them until you're regretting joining him in the first place at that point splattered, work out picnic table

Though he doesn't let the campers do this any more, if you want to color his tattoos, you're welcome to - as consolation for having to deal with the campers all day. It's the least he can do, yeah?

Not to mention, it's a built in coloring book with the best lines there are. How can you pass it up? Of course, he secretly loves it too but won't ever say - instead he'll show it in how he rolls up his sleeve and sets the pens down

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick (General Counselor)

He's one of the first faces you'll see at the camp. Smiling, happy, and warm - he's an absolute welcome sight and naturally can put anyone at ease with that smile of his.

He's absolutely adored by all the campers. He's not the most "fun" one, but you bet he's the one who will have your back. No, he's not letting you go all alone to go rock climbing, but he's sure as shit at least forming a group and making it happen.

That's not to say he's a stick in the mud. He just won't let everything slide and won't enable certain things just because - he still has a sense of discipline and would rather not deal with some headaches (nor have Price get onto them about it)

He's still the one up at night telling all the (age appropriate, cough cough) campfire stories, teaching them how to make shadow puppets, and helping wrangle everyone to bed

He's also the one who you'll want to go to to get something done or to have a chance of getting a counselor on your side

I headcannon him as having an older brother and two younger sisters so he's dealt with kids before and knows their dynamics to a T, which means it's his second nature to understand them and to deal with their conflicts with ease

Since everyone comes to him for everything because he's amiable and polite, he knows all the gossip and drama. He naturally has an aura about him which people trust, regardless of if that's the right move or not

All he really has to do is be himself and people will come running with their problems. He's trained a wonderful poker face and fake neutrality over the years of it

Gaz isn't one to start fights or petty drama. He's one to finish them. And because he's in the know, has all sides, he'll be absolutely happy to make his stand - even if it is something like putting a fake snake in another counselors bed and waking up to them screaming in horror first thing next morning

He'll keep a straight face and assures Price he'll handle it, he'll have a talk with them (he's giving the kid who provided said snake extra dessert that night)

No one will EVER suspect a single thing

He's 100% the cause of one of the prank wars that lasted the entire summer. I mean sure, Soap helped, but a lot of it was banking on him and he absolutely sold it

He's a smart lad so he'll always have every excuse at the ready and can play anything off. Join him for it, you won't regret it. He's not getting caught and he'll make sure you won't either

He'll absolutely let you in on secrets and some of the drama that's been happening as you gather up the supplies for the next prank, making sure you're covering all your bases and getting back at those other counselors for screwing up your schedule

John "Soap" MacTavish (Activities Counselor)

Soap may not look the most approachable at first glance. He's quite intimidating. Have you seen those muscles??? The slight broody expression he carries? He usually has a concentrated face when he's working on something that he doesn't realize can seem scary

Not to mention, he doesn't always have the smoothest way of talking or the nicest things to say. His gruffer voice and tone combined with the fact he's more serious than other counselors like Gaz, generally means new campers aren't flocking to him

However, he's an absolute favorite among returning campers who know him

While he's got a serious face and can have the intensity to match, especially when he's focused on something, he's still a LOT of fun to be around

He's an activities counselor for a reason. He's got a lot of energy, a lot of excitement, and plenty of room to motivate others and to get them to WANT to be participating

He doesn't like keeping things the same, predictable routines. He's always one to switch it up and try new things. It keeps things a bit more exciting and keeps it further away from being a boring camp that no one wants to go to

He's incredibly involved in whatever he's doing, whether that be sports of crafts - if they're making friendship bracelets, he's already got a crew working on making the most ridiculous one possible with him as the leader

He's yet another character I head cannon him as having a ridiculously big family - with him being one of the younger, and only having two brothers but five sisters. His house always was a bit of a nightmare but at least he can now braid like a champion

He's used to the chaos and can watch it unfold without batting a single eye. He's really the best one if you need someone to help with the unruly campers. He's intimidating enough to keep them in check, but kind enough to not give the younger ones a heart attack

He's the one who makes up most of the camp rumors and stories. Weresquatch was based on Price being shirtless - don't tell him that though. He'll make things up to keep kids away from the dangerous parts of the woods and to nicely scare them into behaving. Or give them something to focus on and distract themselves

Gaz is helping sell said rumors. He knows when Soap made it and just rolls with it. Oh, you didn't know about the shoe eating leprechaun? Well, do I have some bad news for you kiddo

Whatever you do, don't ask him for "Ghost stories", he'll tell you a story ABOUT ghost, but so vaguely worded it can be interpreted as in a literal ghost story

Some of the best nights are at those campfires, after all of the campers have gone to bed. He'll happily teach you how to make the perfect s'more as you both talk about your days. He may or may not try to rope you into the prank war with Gaz and him against some of the other counselors, but can you blame him?

You'll make the best memories, it'll be worth it. Now.... about what he's deeming mission "earthworm surprise"....

(Good luck to the other counselors, you'll need it)

Part Two

[synthaphone]

I found your pokemon clay stuff n was wondering if you had any advice for someone new to clay work! I'm Struggling a bit with getting things smooth and symmetrical

oh god it's neopets sculptures I'm so sorry, I'm very very tired today

You're totally fine, no worries!

I talked about my approaches to getting stuff smooth in my answer to this ask!

When it comes to symmetry, that's something I still struggle with, and I think might just require lots of practice. I think what I can offer as far as tips are:

When i'm making matching elements that i want to be the same size, like ears, cheeks, toes, or basically anything symmetrical, I try to set aside equal sized little balls of clay from the start that are planned for those elements. Because you're always just kind of eyeballing it, they do usually end up being slightly different sizes from each other and i have to add or remove some material, but its still a lot easier than making one ear first, and then going to start on the second one and having no idea how much clay you used on the first one and how you're going to get them equal sizes

Make sure to periodically stop and turn your sculpture around to look at it from different angles! It's easy to focus in on one area and getting it to look perfect, and then pull back and realize that it doesn't work from other angles- if you frequently turn it and compare what you're working on to the rest of the sculpture, it can help you catch inconsistencies before you sink a bunch of time into them, which can make the process less frustrating!

On a similar note, its often smart to avoid trying to smooth things out and get them looking 'finished' too early- this is something that I haven't quite gotten the hang of yet either, haha. My college friend who majored in sculpture and also works with sculpey told me that she was taught to leave things fairly rough and unpolished until she'd gotten the forms and mass how and where she wanted them. The sculpture can look kind of lumpy and have obvious seams in progress because you're adding and removing clay from areas without smoothing it, but once you get the basic form down you can start refining it. Its a lot less painful to make changes that way than if you get something looking smooth and nice early, and then have to mess it up to improve the overall sculpture (and also helps you avoid squishing finished parts while youre trying to firmly attach other large pieces)

if you go for a more asymmetrical pose or expression, it won't be as noticeable if things are slightly different sizes, and it can end up looking more dynamic. i struggle with this a lot too, because when i started sculpting as a kid, what i really wanted to make was TOYS!! and i wanted my sculptures to be in neutral poses so they'd feel natural in most scenarios while playing pretend. Now I'm still fighting my subconscious to get out of that mindset, haha. Obviously though theres nothing wrong with making sculptures in more neutral poses if that's what you want to do, and a lot of the time I still do it, its just got some additional challenges

OH and as far as general advice wrt polymer clay:

don't be afraid of using wire, or even wooden toothpicks as structural support!!! these can save your life

tin foil cores inside sculptures can save clay and helps with keeping some elements lighter so they don't droop in the oven and bake more evenly

if you're worried about something falling or drooping in the oven, you can sculpt some tin foil into a support for it to rest on- this can end up leaving some little tin foil marks in the clay, but you either can fill those in with clay on subsequent bakes, or if they're shallow enough sand them off. Its way easier to fix those later than it is to fix an element that drooped and then baked into that position

[hinamie]

Hi Hina! How are you? I just want to start off by saying I love your art 💞 it reminds me of cookies... or bread (does that make sense??) and i just wanna eat it up (please take it as a compliment 🙈)

I have a question... it might be a bit silly but I hope you don't mind. I've been trying to get back into art myself, used to love it as a kid but somewhere along the way I just stopped... I'm not sure what happened but it's something I still love doing and want to do. One problem I had tho (and still have) is that I don't have my own style? When I was little I would usually browse through art and if I see something I like I tried to recreat it, but in the end it looks exactly like the original art (the amount of times i had to convince ppl that I didn't trace it.... I really didn't)

I think it might be that I don't have an initial start process 🤔 when I start drawing I'd look at my reference and just put those shapes right in as I see it... there is no sketch or lineart just a final product. And now I don't even know where to start? Am i over thinking it and should I just go for it... or do you have any tips for a beginner?

I'm sorry this is kinda long and feels like a ramble. Please feel free to ignore ♥️

no need to apologize!! i’ve talked a lot about my thoughts on the art style fixation that a lot of people get trapped in, but the tl;dr of it is draw first and style will come naturally later so don't paralyze yourself into a slump by believing that you Can't draw without solidifying your art style

also smth i feel like i've mentioned before sdfsgfj but i was very much in the same boat of just copying art i liked 1:1 when I was younger so i definitely empathize with your struggle of not knowing how to start branching out into your own stuff . copying was good practice but i was definitely treating it like a crutch . but u know that’s where doing fanart really helped for me because since the characters Exist already i can treat them like little dolls fr me to dress move around, n it overall feel less like i’m stuck floundering completely trying to conjure up a 100% original piece. 

that being said, if fanart is something you’re into, maybe u can use that as a way 2 push yourself also! u can still look at references (in fact you Should look at references) but rather than copying what you see exactly, maybe u can try drawing character in a different pose, or from a different angle ! it doesn’t have to be anything super complex or elaborate, just get into the habit of not drawing exactly what you see so u slowly build confidence in your ability to compose your own piece. eliminates the “did you trace that” aspect also!

as for u saying u have a lack of start process, i rly do recommend sketching .  not only is it practice and a good warmup, it’s a visual brainstorm !! sketching is how u get ur ideas down on paper its like working with yourself to chip away the scraps n hone in on the idea u want to convey. plus with sketching there’s no pressure to make smth that looks “good”, the whole point is that it’s unpolished ! n i find what happens a lot of the time is i dont realize i even Have an idea until ive been sketching fr a bit and i realize Oh i can make smth out of this :) 

i hope smth here was helpful!! i'm very happy u like my art and i wish u the best of luck creating your own <3

[lovemxnot]

Worth the burn | Hwang Hyunjin

Firebender! Hyunjin x Avatar! Reader

Letters burned the scroll in your hand, reassuring words etched on them, scorching their presences into it.

“The city is great, they greeted me with much fanfare, and I’ve been having fun with Hyunjin and the others, like old times.

I feel more like myself than ever. Don't worry about me, mom and dad, I'm fine. I feel like I'm truly, finally healing.”

A pang of guilt surged through you, but you shoved it away, ignoring its lingering presence. Sealing the envelope, you gave it to the man standing impatiently next to you.

“The fire nation, I’m assuming?” He sighed, Referring to all the past letters you have sent.

“Wouldn’t bet otherwise.”

You were healing, perhaps not the same way you had mentioned in all of your letters, filled with nothing but the pure lies, but you were searching for a way- a way to forget, forgive, and move past what was done to you.

Forgiveness never came easy to you. Everyone around you pestered you into accepting the situation that you may never be the same avatar you used to be. But they had no idea what you were going through; no one did- after all, you were the only avatar alive.

It was humiliating how every day, you got up to move only for your legs to fail you despite daily visits to the most skilled healers.

At one point, you had hope, you could feel your legs again, and day by day, you were getting better until eventually, you learned how to walk again, but it all crashed once you tried combating and could barely throw a punch without images flashing, looming shadows engulfing your vision, sending you straight back square one, flashbacks so strikingly vivid it made you quiver down in terror. You were so ashamed, felt so weak and... helpless. How the once-great avatar’s mind turned against her becoming her gravest nightmare.

But You’ve had enough of wallowing in self-pity. You left your parent’s home, leaving the fire nation to sail to republic city, the city where your nightmare was born, the city where your friends reside, in hopes of confronting your fears and healing. And that was truly your plan, but it went astray.

“The match starts in five minutes, move to the ring,” the announcer reminded you.

You pulled yourself out of your head, wrapping the bandages tighter on your hands. Getting ready for your next match. You can feel the ground shake. The roars of the people at the stands pump your blood.

Today’s opponent was a new one. Never heard of it before; fresh meat. New to the game, alas, putting you at a disadvantage as you knew nothing of them or their bending element. Hopefully, it's not another lava bender. Those injuries of that fight alone had another nightmare simmering in the process.

And although you've mastered all four elements, you choose to fight with the one you were naturally born with-fire.

You stood behind the metal door, secluding you from the ring, hands going up to position, feet grounded, breathing in, then out. It wasn’t your first match, but it always feels like it is, no matter how many times you tried to nerve up.

As soon as the bell sounded, the doors slid open you shot a belt of fire to where you knew your opponent stood. Hoping to catch them by surprise.

Your opponent, on the other hand, skillfully blocked your advances while remaining idle in his place, silky red hood up- the signature of the fire nation, hair covering his eyes, shadowes concealing most of his face.

“What's wrong pretty boy? Afraid to fight?” You baited. The crowd's yelling got louder. They loved it when opponents ridicule each other. You surged another blast of fire their way, but they, once again, blocked it as if they already knew your next move.

“Come on, you know you gotta use your hands to fight, right?”

Nothing.

“Here, let me help” you looped a hoop of fire around their hands - or at least tried to before they counterfeited the attack and sent you flying. Body slamming the jagged wall with a thack that pales compared to thunder. But you were used to it by now.

“Alright, now you want to play, pretty boy? "

Using the tiniest amount of airforce, you air bended your way to them faster than they could blink and attacked. But all you were met with was hands blocking your every move.

Their movements were so familiar to you, you obstructed all of their attacks just as well as they blocked yours. It was more of a dance than a fight at this point, every move mirroring the others.

There was only one person that knew you that well. and oh god, did you wish you were wrong about this.

The red streak you glimpsed on his cheek supported your thoughts even more. There was only one person you knew that had that scar. A harsh exhale - laced with a little bit of airbending- blew his hood off, revealing what you wished was not true.

The tiny breeze blew his dark locks out of his face. Giving you a glimpse of his face.

No.

No. No way.

You knew those dark locks. You've run your hands through them enough times to know how they feel even without touching them.

"Hello Y/N"

“Hyunjin...? what are u doing here?!” You knew someday you might run into one of the figures of your past. It was inevitable after all, but not this soon and definitely not him.

“Why, when I heard the avatars look-alike was fighting in underground battles of the lower rinks of basingse I just had to come and get a glimpse myself!” Mockery slid fluidly through his sly smile, “and would you look at that? You do look like her! If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought it was you.”

He was furious, you could tell, even though he masked it with amusement in his voice. To the average eyes, it looked like nothing other than two old friends reconciling. But to you, you knew his blood was boiling by the crinkles of his eyes, the air so thick between you that even airbending it wouldn't help,

Hyunjin was your childhood best friend, and your firebending mentor's son.... and boyfriend. Well, technically, your ex-boyfriend now, seeing as you disappeared on him after the incident, didn't write any letters back for the past year letting him knew you were still breathing.

“Get out of here, I'm not going to fight you” you let your arms rest, blood running cold, fire distinguishing from you. Back turned, you head back outside the arena. You can faintly hear the crowds gasp in shock over the thoughts running in your head. Speaking of your head, it almost got completely scorched with a blast of fire sent your way had you not sensed it early enough and twisted on your hands to get out of its reach.

“Oh no, you don’t. You don’t get to run away. Not again ” He was heaving. He hadn’t moved a step, but he was seething. Another burst after burst was shot at you. “I waited a year y/n! " Oh, how you longed to hear him call your name for so long, but not when he was saying it out of resentment "a whole year just to hear something- anything from you! “

“Hyunjin- stop. I'm not going to fight yo-“

“I. spent. Two. Months. Searching. For .you” fire punctuating every word.

“ Hyunjin i-"

“I thought you were dead !” He punctuated with a blast. This one was charged with so much grievance that the fire was a searing blue. You were not as lucky as before at dodging it, mind catching on to the malice dripping from his voice. Had you not been burned, you would have noticed the tears welling up his eyes.

“Ah,” you hissed in pain.

“You never wrote me back!! But you wrote to Felix?!”

Felix was a mutual friend of yours. A non-bender that you’ve always been very fond of. A younger brother you never had.

“I didn’t know what to say!” You fired back this time, making it his turn to dodge, body ablaze with so much heat you felt it coming out of every limb.

“A simple ‘ hey I'm still alive, by the way, I want to break up with you’ would’ve done!”

“That's the avatar?” “ no way” “ they have a bounty for her head” the mob outside the arena started to murmur, but none of it registered with you.

“ i - I couldn't.....” your resolve faltered, arms dropping. Forgetting completely about the stupid match and the bystanders.

“But you could ghost me for A YEAR and three months?” He scoffed, “ not that I was counting or anything.” He added sneeringly.

“Ever thought I didn’t want to be found?” You snapped back. You had no right to at all. But it just... everything made you snap after the incident. Blame it on insomnia or the delusion or whatever, be it. It drove you crazy. Everything irked you, the sounds of footsteps, the numb feeling you would get in your legs sometimes, the breathing of the person standing next to you- everything aggravated you, you felt your resolve holding on to a thin thread.

Hyunjin, filled with so much fury, lashed on you once again. This time you blocked it, but it drove you roughly back into the unpolished wall. A rock that was jutted out of the wall struck you exactly where you were terribly injured in the attack that incapacitated you. A jolt of electricity crept through your body.

Pictures, more vivid than ever played before your eyes, legs feeling numb, horror swimming in your blood next to the burn of lighting that struck you. Body lying limp, you felt soft hands reach for your face.

“Y/N!” It was the same.

All the same.

You pushed Hyunjin out of shot, and it struck you midair.

The same face that found you after being utterly destroyed, peering over you, with terror and tears etched so deeply in his scarred face.

“ I'm sorry. I’m sorry,” he kept repeating like a mantra, hugging your figure closer, face resting in your neck.

“Please,” he sobbed, “ come back to me.”

Everything was foggy. Was it your eyes or the arena? You had no clue over the video looping in your head.

Lighting, as beautiful as it was, struck you so hard, slipping so gracefully out of your opponent’s fingers, dancing in your nerves, jolting your heart to a stop.

" I'm here." A soft voice pierced through the fog, glints of black and red becoming clearer the more the voice spoke. "I'm always here."

Hyunjin’s pained scream filled your ear” No, No, Chan- please do something! Heal her !”

“I can't lose you again, Y/N.”

Deep brown eyes broke through the fog, followed slowly by the rest of his figure. Hyunjin. That was hyunjin talking to you. The boy you were madly in love with. The boy that never gave up on you. Your eyes welled up seeing him so close- feeling him up so close again.

Fingers softly held your cheeks, your own clenching onto his silky red robe. He didn’t have to speak; his eyes spoke a thousand words. You hid from them in his neck.

"I didn't want you to see me like this," you mumbled into him, tears spilling.

His arms wrapped tighter around you, afraid you’d slip right through if he loosened an inch.

“Let’s go home.”

He didn't need to take you anywhere because right now, you felt more at home than ever.

[anarmorofwords]

I kinda wanna write a better version of tlh where Tatiana is still insane but there's no Belial bc that makes zero sense to me

In this version there would be:

Kamanna done correctly with actual genderqueer rep and not toxic relationships

Barbra and Oliver bc fight me she didn't die

Genie and Filomena bc I love them and all the lightwoods are queer

The gracelet doesn't even happen bc I refuse to write that

Grace is pretty much still the same but she breaks off their(hers and james') relationship bc she notices that he loves Cordelia

No bad James. He's not a shitty person to Alastair, and he doesn't treat Cordelia like a sex object

Anna puts a stop to Kellington and Matthew's relationship before it gets serious. She also tries to get him to stop drinking all the time

Alastair apologizes around seeing them again for the first time. The merry thieves are a little reluctant because of some of the things he did but they don't actively try to keep him away from events that they're at

Matthew notices how Alastair looks at Thomas and locks them in the sanctuary with Genie and Cordelia's help

Grace gets badly injured due to a mistake in necromancy and Christopher helps her treat it without letting people know

Lucie meets Jesse, and falls in love ofc, so in order to bring him back successfully she asks Malcolm to train her in using her magic

Matthew opens up to his mom about the incident. She doesn't blame him at all and instead apologizes for often putting her work before him

Matthew finds out about Charles and Alastair because he found Alastairxs break up letter to Charles

Matthew, the mother hen he is, decided to attempt to murder his older brother, only being stopped by James who had been there at the right time

Kamala ends things with Charles and tells Anna that she still loves them and hopes that she will give her another chance

Anna told her that they needed time to think, and that she is worried how Kamala's reputation will be affected if anyone besides their friends and Anna's family finds out

Kamala respects her decision and doesn't contact her until Anna's ready to talk about things

The merry thieves don't ignore Christopher and they actively listen and help him

The merry thieves also aren't terrible to Grace bc they realize she's been isolated alone with Tatiana and 1) she might not understand what's saying/doing is wrong or 2) that sometimes she's trying to push them away so her abilities don't accidentally make them do something

Good tid parents

James and Alastair being respectful to each other despite personal differences

Matthew, Alastair, Kamala, Christopher, and Grace being besties, or as I call them, the neglected squad

No fetishizing mlm/wlw

Domestic cuddles and taking care of the other one when they're sick

Jesse/Lucie/Matthew pairing bc I love them and I refuse to pick between lucie/matthew and lucie/jesse

Christopher teaching Grace the elements(at the time) on the periodic table

Tatiana dies at the end yay

It's very unpolished and I'm open to b hearing any feedback and/or suggestions that anyone may have

The idea came to me and I decided it would be best if I told someone before I forgot

hi, I'm sorry it took so long,but I wanted to properly answer this and I keep having either internet connection issues or little time

DON'T BE SHY, WRITE THIS 👀

In all seriousness tho... THIS IS ABSOLUTE PERFECTION?!? I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHERE TO START I AM UTTERLY IN LOVE WITH THIS IDEA, I NEED IT

Look, I've been on the verge of rewriting ChoI, and I keep saying I want someone to write a TLH that will live up to its potential, but I've never actually came up with a proper idea for it, and you?!! YOUR BRAIN DARLING THIS IS GENIUS

ok hold up I'll just react to each and every single one so

yes please?!? I mean it started off so sweet in EEV?! Also actually genderqueer Anna and not dancing around the subject like CC is doing now?! That's what they deserve, and that's what we all deserve too

yesss please. also just,,,, Barbara, the feminine, not-wanting-to-fight-which-doesnt-make-her-less-badass queen that she is, getting the page space and appreciation she deserves

that's actually brilliant?!? it would be so great, just imagine the new girl arrives for her travel year and Genie is completely awestruck. I'm so invested in Joshwood it's difficult to imagine not having them, but this is actually the only valid alternative?!

ok that's fine. I think it could still happen and be done well, but tbh for now... the gracelet doesn't seem to have done anything relevant to the plot itself? I mean yeah it messed up James's life and Jordelia, but what did it give Belial? Tatiana? nothing. It makes no sense atm.

could be! maybe she's still encouraged by Tatiana to befriend/seduce him, but without the gracelet it doesn't work out? or maybe James somehow manages to realize that she's in danger and he actually like,,,, kidnaps her? idk idk

yes. YES. just,,,,z James is a sweet compassionate literature nerd who accidentally makes a good leader and he actually cares about people, and not just judges them from his high horse; he does still have hero syndrome, but he's kind and respectful and overall a good character

ANNA INTERVENES ABOUT KELLINGTON PLZ. PEOPLE ACTUALLY NOTICE MATTHEW'S STRUGGLES. JAMES DOES, TOO, BECAUSE THERE'S NO GRACELET.

ok yes, so what about: basically TMT don't harass Alastair and accept his apology, and realize they were also being stupid and mean at times at the Academy (especially Math). Matthew doesn't want to accept Alastair's apology, because of The Sin, but his behaviour alerts the rest of TMT and they inquire what's wrong and he tells them about the sin and that's how he later tells his parents (because his friends encourage him) and as you say, she just hugs him and reassures him it's not his fault; so after that Matthew slowly begins to heal and accepts it wasn't Alastair's fault, and also since they've kind of adopted/started including Alastair in things, he can't help but notice he's actually changed and he even starts to grow fond of him

then like you said, Matthew notices Thomas likes Alastair PLEASE HE SO WOULD. I'm not sure about the Sanctuary, if it actually happens (I'll get to why later on), but him and Lucie get really invested in the matchmaking schemes, they include Genie/Kamala because these two are friends with Alastair (both? Or at this point only Kamala?) but they also share some Moments during their scheming/talking about love 👀 (yes I'm a Fairdale shipper, I think it's time to expose myself lol)

Which leads me to (sorry I'm going off order rn) YES YES YES LUCIE AND MATH PLEASE. A FELLOW SHIPPER, HELLO, NICE TO MEET YOU. But since we're actually fixing him then we can give Jesse a personality and I'm totally down for poly Math/Lucie/Jesse

Lucie seeking Malcolm's help in secret, morally gray heroine style?!? no, it's probably not legal. but also has there ever been a Shadowhunter like her? If the Law doesn't expect such situations, it can't really forbid them...

Plz Matthew ready to strangle the carrot when he learns about their relationship, YES. sure, maybe he's still not the biggest fan of Alastair, but he's seen how much the boy's been through and starts to develop an attachment to him, and besides, NO ONE DESERVES TO BE GROOMED AND TREATED LIKE THAT. He's SO MAD at Charles, and he confronts him about it - remembering Kellington as he does, and it makes him sick to think his brother would do the same thing to someone. Maybe he gets very emotional over this and later finally tells his friends about Kellington? Maybe they didn't know before, only Anna did? So when they all realize what was happening then they comfort him etc? Or maybe it's just Alastair that learns now, and the others knew before, and they share a bonding moment over that?

Injured Grace seeking Kit's help is a genius idea I didn't know I needed

Kamanna giving each other time and space and deciding they need to question their relationship and figure out if it actually makes sense would be great. Anna realising she's very privileged and Kamala doesn't have those same opportunities, and also in general realising coming out should never be pressured or forced. Just,,,, Anna being self-aware and respectful towards Kamala. Well-written Anna. Plz. Also Kamanna is actually developed and not just "in love" because,,,,, they're attracted to each other? Maybe even remaining friends while Anna makes up their mind?

yeah just TMT being more compassionate and less judgy because they're not written by Judith so her bias isn't projected onto them

It's not a want, it's a need. They adopt Alastair and Grace eventually. Like, maybe not literally - although, Grace? - but you know what I mean.

I think they all should just have various friendship dynamics and switch between them, because people need more than one friend group

no fetishizing, no watching your brother make out with his lover, yessss

yes domestic cuddles, affection, taking care of wounds, all those things. plz.

Gracetopher bonding over science yes

obviously. or maybe she's imprisoned?!

ok, now for some more notes/my ideas etc., if you don't mind:

I actually think Belial could still be featured? After all, I don't think Tatiana could do much on her own, and since she seeks help from demons, it makes sense to include a Greater Demon as well. But Belial would have to be a stronger villain, written better; I'll think more about this

if that was the case, the serial killer plot could still happen, but be done better. and it would allow for a scenario I talked about with @littlx-songbxrd to happen, where it's Alastair who's falsely accused of murder. It creates a great opportunity to explore some things, because we know Alastair is much more likely to be seriously suspected, considering all the prejudices and bad rep his family has and all that

...what do you say to well-written Jordelia? 👀 Cordelia hasn't been obsessively in love with James since childhood, she only had a crush then. And now that they meet again, she's fond of him but not in love, not straight away. They're both grown up, and different people, but as they spend more and more time together, they fall in love. What if Cordelia gets to flirt with some other boys first? What then. What if she ends up choosing James, instead of going for the only boy she's ever had feelings for and idealized since childhood. What if we even make it friends-to-lovers and have James be a little jealous at some point?! but not in a possessive awful way, just "oh damn oh no"

Now I won't know peace until this exists BUT THANK YOU

[gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights]

Rating: T

Chapter Summary: A month after Chat Noir learns Marinette's identity, they're just vibin'

Word Count: 4388 | Chapter 2/2

Notes: Written for @chatnoirinette​ through the @mlbforblm​ charity drive!  The donations go directly to Color of Change, an organization for racial justice.  I highly recommend checking them out and reblogging/donating the mlbforblm posts if you’re able!  I have two fic request slots left as of 7/17/2020, and many other talented writers and artists are offering incentives as well

XXX

Marinette glanced over her shoulder for what had to have been the thirtieth time.  Outside her bedroom window, stormclouds were gathering over the glittering skyline. What if the weather was too dangerous for Chat to come visit tonight?  Or what if he’d gotten held up with something in his civilian life?  That happened too often, though he probably spent every moment he could with her now.  It was oddly comforting that he wanted to be around her so much, even if it was just keeping her company while she worked on homework, or deciphered the grimoire, or let the kwamis out for some fresh air.

Despite seeing him practically every day, she still managed to miss him.

“He’ll be here,” Tikki said from her perch on top of Marinette’s mannequin.  

She sighed.  “That obvious, huh?”

“You almost pinned the collar to my leg.”

Oops.  As it was, the she’d bunched up the collar of Juleka’s dress all wrong.  She’d have to remove the pins and smooth it out again unless she wanted the fabric to pucker in her sewing machine.

“Sorry Tikki.  I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately.”

She’d survived with only seeing her partner during akuma attacks and patrols for two years now.  But in these few weeks since she’d accidentally revealed her identity, she’d come to rely on him more than ever.  Maybe too much, honestly.  She had no idea what civilian responsibilities he was carrying on his own.

Well, she had a guess, but that was better left unsaid until she knew for sure.

You could always ask him, she thought for the thousandth time, but banished it just as quickly.  

A tap at her window made her jump and prick her finger.  Even startled as she was, guilty relief flooded her.  Tikki was right; he’d shown up anyway.

She sucked on the sore spot as she ran to open the window.  “You know Papa would let you in the front door.”

“But then I’d miss getting to see you in your natural habitat, Bugaboo.”  Chat Noir grinned as he swung himself in.  Luckily it hadn’t started raining yet.  She didn’t want her room smelling like wet cat.

“My ‘natural habitat’ has too many pins on the floor.”  She scrambled to pick them up before he ended up stepping on one.  His boots would have protected his feet, but he was polite enough to remove them every time he entered, even though she’d never asked him to.

At least, she’d never asked Chat.  That was one of her flimsier evidences for his identity, though.

“I like it.  It’s cozy.”  He plopped down on her chaise, which he’d claimed for himself weeks ago.  Not that she minded.  She kept that space clear for him, even when fabric and thread was piled on every other surface.

“What about your room?  Is it this ‘cozy’?”  She asked.  It was an innocent question, not overtly fishing for information on his identity.  

“Nah.  I’m not allowed to… I have to keep things tidy.”  He frowned.

Another piece towards her theory.  She’d add that note in the conspiracy page she’d webbed out in her diary.

“Oh!  I’ve got something for you!”  He untied a plastic bag that he’d hung from his belt.  “It, um, might be a little bit squished, but hopefully it’ll still taste good.”

Her eyes widened at the small box of cupcakes he presented to her.  The frosting was pale pink, with wobbly dots of chocolate arranged to look like the spots on her yo-yo.  They were a little smushed, but still in remarkably good shape for having traveled with Chat across Paris.  She popped off the box’s translucent lid, giggling at the tiny pigeon stickers at each corner of it.

He winced.  “They look terrible, don’t they?  I know I’m not as good at baking as you, but Mr. Ramier helped so I thought they might be kind of okay—”

“They’re perfect.”  She wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug.  “You didn’t have to make me anything, Kitty.”

“I know, but I wanted to.  Since you’re always sharing your delicious pastries with me—”

“Maman and Papa make most of those.”

“—and because you deserve something nice, and you refuse to let me buy you anything.”

Her face warmed.  Before she’d put that rule into place, he’d tried to bring her a present every time he visited.  Considering he visited a lot, that would have taken a toll on his wallet.

Unless money wasn’t an issue for him, of course.

Stop that, she told herself.  She could hardly deny her feelings for Chat anymore, but she couldn’t keep muddling them with feelings for her first crush.  Not until she knew for sure they were one and the same.

Now if only she could stop being a coward and ask him.

“W-well thanks,” she said quickly.  “You better help me eat them.”

He winked.  “Can do, Princess.”

Before they dug in, she bundled her fabric away and pulled out the Miracle Box from its hiding place next to her sewing machine.  It was the perfect spot, now that she’d learned how disguise it as an extra sewing box rather than that Ladybug-themed egg-thing.  She’d never have been able to keep that a secret.

“Who’s coming out today?”  Chat asked.  He’d sprawled on the chaise with his hands propping up his chin.  Tikki had nestled herself in his hair, eating half of a cupcake and scattering crumbs in his golden locks.  

The kwami would probably enjoy Chat Noir’s visits more if Plagg was allowed out for her to play with.  Plagg would devour all of her parents’ cheese-filled pastries, and Marinette… Marinette would have to look into her partner’s unmasked eyes and admit she was still half in love with someone else.

Unless she wasn’t.  But what if she was?  A few hardly-lucid dreams and wishful evidence weren’t proof that Chat Noir was actually Adrien.

She shook her head.  That train of thought could do donuts in her brain if she didn’t pull the brakes.

“I was thinking Kaalki and Pollen.”  She wasn’t up for any of the rowdier kwamis tonight, even with Chat helping her “babysit.”  Plus the two of them liked sweets; they’d appreciate the cupcakes.

She pulled out the hair comb and glasses, and Chat Noir excitedly put them both on.  The miraculouses somehow managed to make him look both dorkier and cuter at the same time.  Maybe that was just because he was at his cutest when he was being a dork.

Tikki smiled wide as Kaalki and Pollen appeared in flashes of light.

“Oooh, someone glorious and famous.” Kaalki flew in circles around Chat Noir’s head, nudging a few of his tufts of hair with her hoof.  “You would make a fine holder.  Plagg wouldn’t be up for a trade, would he?”

Chat blushed beneath his mask, making Marinette giggle.

“Uh, sorry, but I’m going to have to say neigh to that.”

Pollen covered her laugh in her hands. Kaalki just harumphed.

“Fine.  Your sense of humor is far too unpolished anyway.”

Glorious and famous.  Kaalki might have been talking about his status as a hero of Paris, but Marinette still made note.

They fell into their usual routine, Chat Noir entertaining the kwamis by answering their questions about the world while Marinette went back to work.  The steady conversation was a better backdrop than any white noise or instrumental music playlists.  She only wished she had time to join them.  Unfortunately, she’d put off this dress for too long.  She only had a week before Juleka wa supposed to model the floral sundress at the school’s ameteur fashion show, and who knew how many akumas would strike between now and then?

Marinette was just getting ready to transfer the fabric from the mannequin to her sewing desk when she heard Pollen ask Chat, “How are things between you and your Princess?”

The pins slipped from her hand.  She barely noticed a couple pricking into her slipper.

Chat had sat up straight since the last time she’d glanced back, and the nervous yet hopeful smile on his face threatened to melt her.

“Uh—well—how are things between us, Marinette?”

Her mouth briefly forgot how to make words.  She knew what Pollen meant; Tikki and her gossiped about Marinette’s love life all the time. Maybe she shouldn’t have let the bee kwami out tonight.

“Well, um.”  Her fingers twitched nervously against the fabric of her pajama pants.  Say something, Marinette! “We’re—we’re best friends, right?”

She wanted to shove her fist in her mouth.  How many times had she died inside over Adrien calling her just a friend?  And no matter who Chat was beneath the mask, she didn't want to obscure her true feelings for him.

But his face still lit up even brighter.  “I’m your best friend?”

“Of course, Kitty.”  She sat on the chaise, scooting close to him.  Probably closer than even a best friend should, but it wasn’t like Chat was shy about personal space.  “I don’t let just anyone climb in my window, you know.”

“Awwww,” Pollen sighed while crossing her hands over her heart.  Tikki gave Marinette a knowing look, which she pretended to ignore.

Then Marinette shoved a cupcake into her mouth before she could say anything more incriminating.

Chat blinked.  She wondered if he was impressed—that cupcake had been about the size of her fist. Guess she could’ve fit her fist in her mouth after all, but at least the cupcake tasted better.

“Thesh ah really goo’.” 

...Well, she said she wouldn’t say anything incriminating.  She’d never ruled out saying anything stupid.

Chat Noir laughed.  “For a Princess, your table manners could use some work.”

She swallowed about half the cupcake.  It was really good, thick and chocolatey with a hint of strawberry.  It probably would’ve tasted better if she’d taken the time to savor it.  But the loss was worth it for the look on his face.

“No table manners allowed.  Only vibes.”

He blinked before bursting out a real laugh, fuller and brighter than the one before.  One that she was sounded strikingly familiar—especially with the backdrop of rain hitting the window behind them.

That truth cracked like a flash of lightning.

“You’ve been hanging out with Nino too much.”  He wiped a claw under his eye, flicking away a few drops of water.

It was him. It had to be him. She’d recognize that laugh anywhere.

“Princess, what’s a ‘vibe’?”  Pollen asked.

“I believe it’s like a, like a feeling,” Kaalki answered over the sound of Chat’s cackle.  “Perhaps there’s a kwami of vibes?  Or would that fall under Duusu’s domain?”

Marinette was too stunned from the whiplash of Adrien’s laugh and Pollen’s question to actually answer.

“Sort of,” Tikki interjected instead.  “Marinette and her friends sometimes talk about vibes like they’re feelings, but they also use ‘vibing’ as an action.  I’m still not really sure what that means though.  Maybe we should Google it?”

When she sat on Marinette’s computer keyboard, the desktop collage of Adrien’s photos flashed on the screen.  Marinette almost lunged for her kwami in horror, but Chat was still laughing too hard to notice.

“Princess—what’s a—what’s a vibe?”  He got out between tears.

Then he actually doubled over far enough that he toppled off the chaise—which made Marinette laugh so hard she choked on her remaining cupcake. 

Adrien was dressed in a catsuit, literally rolling on the floor laughing.  That was more hilarious than even the kwamis trying to understand teenage slang.

“Marinette?  Are you okay?”  Tikki hovered up to her face, her blue eyes filling Marinette’s vision.

She giggled again, coughing out crumbs stuck in the back of her throat.

“I’m—I’m straight up vibing!”  

With that, she too rolled off the chaise and fell on top of Chat.  He yelped before giggling again, wrapping his arms around her.

“Spare vibes, Princess?  Spare vibes for a poor vibeless kitty?”

“Ack!”  She flailed as he tickled her sides.  “Nooo, stop!  You’re stealing all the vibes!”  

“Were vibes in the cupcakes?”  Pollen whispered to Kaalki, prompting another giggling fit from both Marinette and Chat Noir.

“Maybe it’s a secret,” Kaalki replied.  “Like a code.  For when the two of them want to do… whatever this is.”  She waved a hoof towards where they were tangled together.

It was only then that Marinette realized what this would look like.  And the fact that the floor wasn’t that thick, and her parents might hear something any minute.

Not to mention the fact that Adrien was tickling her.

“I, um, need some air!”  She burst, scrambling off from his chest.

“Huh?  Wait, Marinette!” 

He reached out a hand, but she’d already bolted up her ladder and shoved open her skylight.

Which, of course, let rain dump right into her bed.  Oops.

“What was in those cupcakes?”  She mumbled, climbing onto her balcony shutting the skylight behind her.  

She pressed her palms to her cheeks, trying to cool the heat there.  The rain wasn’t doing a quick enough job of it, even though the spring shower chilled the rest of her to the bone.  Had she flushed her last brain cell down the toilet?  What was she thinking? 

Of course, she was stupid with Chat Noir all the time.  They’d challenged each other to handstand contests, dared each other to eat spicy peppers, even one-upped each other’s Hawkmoth impersonations.  Chat might be Adrien, but that meant Adrien was still Chat. Knowing his identity didn’t change the fact that he was her ridiculous partner.

“Marinette?”  A blond head poked out of the skylight.  The glasses were askew on his nose; the golden hair comb had almost fallen out. “If you want me to leave, I can.  You don’t need to stay out here and get soaked.”

It was a bit late for that.  Even though she had ducked under the awning, the rain was blowing practically sideways.  She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered.  Why had she worn her pajama tank?  Not that it mattered; Adrien had seen her in it before.  She could hardly embarrass herself more than she already had.

“N-no, of course not!  I just thought, we were being kind of loud, and it’s late, and since you didn’t come in through the front door…”

Chat winced as he climbed out onto the balcony to stand beside her.  Just a few seconds out in the rain, and his hair was already plastered to his forehead in a wet mop.  The glasses were too splattered to see through; he removed them and the bee miraculous with his free hand and put them in his pocket.

As for his other hand...

“Well, at least use this.  It might work a little better than your awning.”

...He popped open the umbrella.  Black and slick with rain, it brought her back to a moment two years ago.  Different green eyes, but the same soft gaze.  

“Of course you’d grab that one.”  She couldn’t help smiling.  It was the only umbrella she owned, and it had been sitting by her desk, but it still felt ironic.  

She reached for the umbrella, but Chat pulled it back at the last moment.

“Wait, it’s broken, isn’t it?”  He squinted up at its underside—

Just in time for it to snap shut on his head.

A laugh burst from her like a crack of thunder.  “Come on, Ad—Kitty.  It’s drier over here.” 

He disentangled himself from the umbrella and followed her to the corner of the balcony, where the rain hadn’t quite snuck under the awning.  

“Why do you have this old thing anyway?  Looks like a piece of junk.”  He twirled the now-closed umbrella like his baton, but fumbled it under her folding chair, where it promptly exploded open.  Chat scowled.  “Oh, I see how it is.  When I want you to open, you only know how to stay shut.  But when you’re out on your own you’re ready to party.”

The umbrella rolled slightly as it began to fill with rainwater.  Marinette laughed as Chat continued to glare at it.

“Be nice to that umbrella.  Someone very special gave it to me.”  She stretched out her legs, letting her heels dangle in the puddles in the brick.  Her fairy lights reflected in the water, casting the two of them in an ethereal glow.

“Oh, really?  Should I be jealous?”  He playfully wrapped an arm around her back.  Every place he touched burned, even though she knew the gesture was just part of his jealous act.

She hummed as she leaned her head on his shoulder.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“...Oh.”  She felt him deflate, though he infused his voice with fake confidence.  “Well, good.  I’m a pretty territorial cat, you know.”

Gently, she tugged on the bell at his neck until he met her eyes.

“You don’t need to be jealous,” she clarified, “because I know he’s you.”

Chat Noir’s—Adrien’s—eyes widened.  But then his gaze softened, and he shook his head with a smile.

“I should’ve known you’d figure me out.  You’ve already done it once in your sleep.”

She blinked.  “I did?  And—and I’m right?”

She’d been sure, but it was still another thing to hear him admit it.

And it was yet another thing to hear “claws in.” To see green lightning crackle over over him, unmasking Adrien’s tender face.

The electricity had barely faded before she flung her arms around him.

“Woah!”  He laughed before hugging her back just as tightly.  “You know, I think I should be jealous.  You never hugged Chat Noir like this.”

“That’s not true.  I definitely hugged you tighter after we fought the Scrambler last week.”

“Huh.  I guess it just doesn’t have the same effect when I’m covered in egg whites.  Or maybe it’s because the suit isn’t in the way now.”

She was all too aware of that.  His bare hands were warm on her back, even through her pajama shirt.  Her face was tucked in the crook of his neck, where she could drink in his scent unobscured by the leather suit.

“Sniffing me again?”  He wiggled his eyebrows.

She flushed at being caught.  Adrien her friend from school might not have called her out for it, but Adrien her partner of two years would.  Well, two could play at that game.

“Oh, like you haven’t sniffed me before.  Besides, I can’t help it that you smell radiant, carefree, and dreamy.”

He looked mortified.  “That commercial was over a year ago!  Even Wayhem forgot about that!”

“Wayhem probably didn’t watch it two hundred and fifty-five times.”

“...I can’t tell which one of us should be more embarrassed about that.”

“Probably me,” she admitted.  “What was your point again?”

“Either we both get sniffing rights, or neither of us does.  That’s fair.”

She laughed, nuzzling deeper into his neck.  “Fine.  But I probably just smell wet.”

He buried his nose in her hair and breathed in, tickling the part of her hair.  “Don’t worry.  You smell perfect.”

Maybe it should’ve been an awkward compliment, but he still found herself giddy over it.

“Thank you.  You smell like cheese.”

“Hey!”  He pouted.  “What happened to ‘radiant, carefree, and dreamy’?”

“She gave you a compliment, kid. What’s more radiant than cheese?”  Plagg asked.

Marinette nearly screamed.  She should’ve realized he was there, but he’d blended into the shadows in the wake of Adrien’s detransformation.

“Plagg!”  Adrien hissed.  “Go inside with Tikki.  We’re having a moment.”

“Yeah, whatever.”  Plagg dismissively waved a paw.  “You got any cheese in there for me, Pigtails?”

“Uh—Tikki can get you some cheese-filled pastries from downstairs.  Don’t let my parents see you.”

“They’ll never know I was there.  Unless they notice a plate of those delicious treats is gone.” The kwami grinned and dove through the floor.  

Well, that was about all she could expect.  Hopefully Tikki could keep him under control.  If not, Marinette might have to fake a rat infestation.

“Sorry about him.” Adrien sighed.  “He’s always like that.”

“Could’ve been worse.  Imagine if you were stuck with Xuppu or Roarr as your kwami.”

He laughed.  “Pretty sure my father would have grounded me for life if he saw the mess.  Or he would’ve found out my identity.  Probably both.”

Chat had been there the one day Marinette decided to let the monkey and tiger kwamis outside of the miracle box.  She’d actually had to transform and use her Lucky Charm just to undo the damage.  

“Speaking of which… I knew it was only a matter of time, but how did you learn my identity?”  He asked.  “If I need to be more careful…”

She shook her head.  “It’s not that.  I… I don’t know if I can even explain it.  At first I thought it was just wishful thinking.  Ever since we spent the night at Mr. Ramier’s apartment, I…”

She blushed and bit her lip.  Getting caught sniffing him might have been embarrassing, but admitting this somehow felt more personal.

“What?” He asked.  “Is it because I smelled the same as Chat and myself?”

“Huh?  No—well, sort of?  Maybe subconsciously.”

“Oh.  That’s what you said while you were sleeptalking.”  He shrugged.

“I guess that makes sense, since… well, I’ve been dreaming about you.  Both of you.”  

She took a deep breath.  He was still waiting patiently, his hand softly stroking her back.  If he didn’t think she was crazy yet, she guessed this wouldn’t change his mind.

“You were always the same person in my dreams.  You’d switch back and forth between Adrien and Chat Noir.  “Chat” would sit in front of me at school, or “Adrien” would help me bring down a scary akuma. Either way, it was always you.

“And then I couldn’t help looking for similarities when I was awake.  I—I started writing down all the evidence I found.  The time “Chat” almost beat me at Ultimate Mecha Strike was when I started to actually believe it.  But what finally convinced for sure me was your laugh.”

She laced her fingers together in her lap to keep from fidgeting.  All of it sounded weirder when she said it out loud.  Almost like she’d been stalking him, sticking all of their casual interactions under a microscope.

“Wow,” he breathed, leaning back against the wall.  “I’m flattered that you went through all that effort, but I don’t get it.  The only reason I didn’t reveal myself sooner was because I was afraid it would put more stress on you, and you were already dealing with so much.  Why didn’t you just ask me who I was?”

She stared into his eyes, watching the pastel lights reflect in them.  He still didn’t know.  All these secrets shared, all these weights lifted, and she still hadn’t revealed the one secret she’d wanted to confess all along.

“Because…” she licked her lips, “because I didn’t want to be wrong.  If you weren’t Adrien—I didn’t want to project my old crush onto you.  You deserve better than that.  Though I guess it doesn’t matter now, since I wasn’t projecting after all, it is you and so I should. Just be able to say this.”

He blinked at her, but then his lips began to part in a slow smile.

“Are you saying…?”

“I’m saying I’m in love with you,” she blurted before she could lose her nerve again.  “First Adrien you, then Chat Noir you, then just, well, you.  So—so jot that down.”

A startled laugh escaped him before he squeezed her tight again.

“Consider it jotted.”  He kissed the top of her head, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.  As if she wasn’t going to dissolve at the faintest sign of lip-on-hair contact.  “And in case it wasn’t obvious, I’m in love with all of you too.  So you can jot that down.”

It shouldn’t have undone her.  Chat Noir had confessed his love to her countless times.  Granted, all of those times had been before their battle with Miracle Queen, after which he’d obviously tried to move on.

But he still loved her.  She wasn’t too late.  

Maybe that relief was what pushed her to grab the collar of his shirt in both hands and press her mouth to his.

Her brain screamed, but her lips slowly figured out what to do, particularly when Adrien got over his shock and kissed her back.

Adrien. Holding her in his arms. Kissing her back.

She wasn’t sure if the sound she heard was the rain or the roaring in her ears or just her internal screaming. But it didn’t matter. For the first time, they were really, finally together, no secrets or fears between them. That truth was just as sweet as the kiss.

He finally pulled back, the front of his shirt damp where he’d been pressed against her. From the wide grin on his face, he didn’t mind.

“Will I get that kind of kiss every time I tell you I love you?”

“I don’t know.”  She tapped her lips. “It might be worth finding out.”

“I love you, my La—”

She cut him off with her mouth on his.

All that time waiting, every failed attempt at confessing her feelings, slipped away like the rain off the slick balcony railing.

When the sky finally cleared, she woke to them tangled together, slumped against that same railing.  She had a crick in her neck, and she’d probably end up with a cold from sleeping in her wet clothes.  But it still felt worth it to look up into Adrien’s blissful face.  Somehow she’d woken up before him—probably because her clothes had been more uncomfortable, since his were dry where his suit had covered them.

“Are you going to give me any juicy secrets in your sleep?”  She asked before kissing the side of his jaw.

His only response was to hum and hug her.

“I guess that’s a no.”  She chuckled.  “No fair.  I shouldn’t be the only one embarrassing myself in this relationship.”

Relationship.  She could’ve exploded into confetti just thinking about it.

“Mmm… love you… m’lady.”

Her breath caught at his slurred voice.

“...Well I guess I can’t complain about that.”

She rested her head back on his chest, and let the dripping remnants of rain from the gutters lull her back to sleep.

[monchikyun]

XVIII. bury a friend

It has been awfully quiet for about an hour now. As Connor ended his story with horrible dejection written all over his face, he turned around and initiated his stasis, refusing any and all comfort Gavin has been more than willing to provide. He did expect it to be something twisted and tragic like that, even imagined the worst possible scenario before being told how it really went down, just to be safe. If he’s honest with himself, the reality isn't very far from the most fucked up course of events his mind has been able to cook up. Still, it has been able to freeze the blood in his veins, which has paralysed his brain for the amount of time it took Connor to withdraw to his simulated sleep. 

Gavin has already cursed himself for being so goddamn incompetent when it comes to emotional issues, blamed himself for the cold shoulder he didn't even have the chance to receive. He still does, as he lies glued to the bed, counting the cracks in the ceiling. His nicotine addiction is begging him to go into the cold and give it what it needs to survive, but the warmth of his current company is impossible to leave. His hand aches for the smallest touch, for some confirmation that Connor is still here with him. So he directs his sight to the body next to him, letting himself be mesmerised by the constellations of freckles decorating the android's bare arm. It's a painful view, knowing that he still doesn't have the right to connect those dots with his own defects, to interpose himself with this amazing, flawed being who has carved a hole in his chest and invaded his heart.

He remembers how the android was back when he found him on the roof, finally realising the enormous difference created by the months they’ve spent together. Last spring he dreaded going to work, feared that Connor just wouldn’t show up one day and he wouldn’t be able to see him ever again. Or worse, all that would remain of him would be the empty vessel that used to house his colourful soul, something that would kill his last hopes. He was tempted to become a well-meaning stalker then, to always be near for when a potential threat arrives, but that idea was too exhausting for him in the end, and so he left his worries to a silent prayer which guided him all through to summer. 

With the warmth came the first smile and a myriad of gratitudes for his uncharacteristic kindness. That’s when they started having casual conversations, a big leap from the uncomfortable silences that filled their shared hours in the previous season. It was somewhere in July when he first regarded Connor as his friend, without his vigilant denial disagreeing that fact. Gavin has always found the android very attractive, like an eye candy specifically developed for his torment, but knowing there was a whole, unpolished person behind that plastic perfection has made his partner so much more appealing. He simply couldn’t stop himself getting drawn to him, despite all the countless attempts to emotionally distance himself from the one who lived inside his dreams. It was either letting himself be eaten by the monsters living in his past, or inviting in the one person who has the power to push them away from his corrupted mind.

For the longest time, he did neither. Though his inability to act on his feelings was due to more than just the inherent fragility of their source, he was simply afraid like he has always been when it comes to things that have the potential to hurt him. He'd rather be thrown in a paper shredder than to have his soul bruised again. Physical pain is easy to understand, straightforward in its healing. Time usually takes care of what needs to be done, but when it comes to the mind, sometimes even passing years will have little to no effect on the waste that has accumulated in someone’s innermost core. And Gavin didn't want to add onto the rotting pile of mess that has already been too much to bear as it is. But that was months ago, and as the earth was becoming colder, the warmth that had started budding inside of him turned into sweltering heat.

When autumn was nearing its end, he understood that he would soon burn up if he didn’t begin dealing with his problem. Maybe that’s how they got here, to a place where he doesn’t have to call his feelings inconvenience anymore, having breached the border that has kept them apart all these months. He wants to stop fighting it for good. This truth is sent to him from above as he puts his fingers on Connor's bare temple, tracing the ghost of the LED that used to signify his nature. 

He'd like to say that the fact that one of them isn't human is what prevented them from giving into their hearts' desires, but that is far from the truth. Life is much more complicated than that, not as black and white as he wants it to be. 

Gavin wishes their relationship was defined, so he could casually take the android in his arms and hold him away from the evil of the world, just for a short while, just so he can expand his collection of irreplaceable moments that he doesn't ever want to forget. 

He considers getting just a bit closer, weighing all the pros and cons that ultimately mean nothing because deep down he recognises that their sentiments are shared. So he lowers his steadying hand down from Connor’s temple, ready to enfold everything his partner represents. But fortune isn’t on his side tonight, because as soon as he begins his movement, Connor wakes up with a jerk that betrays confusion lined up with its best friend, unease. 

"Did you have a nightmare?" Gavin is more than familiar with the concept of being tortured by his own psyche as he lays it to rest, so he's aware of just how disorienting such illusions can be, how unrelentingly cruel and merciless they often are. 

"No, no... I-... androids can't normally dream. I wasn't really sleeping, just… thinking. More than I should." 

Gavin scoots over so their shoulders are just about touching, a decision his conscious mind has had no say in. 

"Do you wanna talk 'bout it?" A quiet, tentative question just barely escapes his lips for fear he gets denied entrance into Connor's trove of dark secrets. 

There is a short, excruciating period of silence before he gets his answer.

"You know how I can preconstruct any future scenario based on the information available to me?" 

"Yeah? I mean… sorta. Can't really wrap my mind around your technical stuff most of the time." That's only partially a lie. He ought to tell him that he doesn't want to picture his inner workings because they kind of scare him, but maybe that would be too inappropriate given the frailty of this moment. 

"Well… I saw you get buried…,” the android breathes out for reasons Gavin can only guess, “after you died, naturally." 

"Naturally." 

Why doesn't this even surprise him anymore. Of course Connor would paint himself the grimmest image possible, these are just his default settings. Give him the brightest colours and he'd draw you the darkest sky without a single star in sight. 

"That's not… I'm sorry I,... I didn't mean to… I just couldn't stop it since it went that way and…" 

"Hey, it's okay.” It hurts seeing Connor get like that, losing most of his coherency and feeling like he should apologise for it.  

“How…," Gavin takes a deep breath, trying to calm his racing thoughts down. Connor was the one who saw his funeral, not him, yet he feels like he’s been there already, among the dirt, not far from other decaying corpses. It’s an uncanny sensation. Not one he’ll be chasing any time soon. 

"How did it make you feel?" A stupid question, really, and yet the best his brain has to offer. 

"How do you think?" Gavin never knew that tears could fit an incredulous look, but the welling in Connor's eyes combined with the exasperation written all over his face is proof enough. Laughable, frankly, but he wouldn't dare. Not now, anyway. 

"Guess it sucked then." 

"That's putting it mildly." The android shakes his head and rubs his eyes before they have the chance to leak his sorrow. 

"I… I don't ever want to go through that again,” he says, desperation piercing his voice through and through. It would be easy to dismiss these ungrounded worries if it wasn’t for the two flaming brown lights probing his own mossy pools like they intend to hypnotise them and seize control over his soul.  

"You know that no one can force you to… be there... when it happens." 

"You don’t get it! That's not the point. I don't want to live in a world where two of my best friends are nothing but a memory. I realise that’s selfish, but… "

Gavin does, by all means, get it, he just tried to help, somehow. 

Connor’s eyes are turning into glass, threatening to melt again, so he closes his because God knows he does not possess the strength to witness it, not tonight at least. 

"Maybe you should just relax Con, the future will come no matter what, but we still have the might to shape it as we like. To some extent. Anyway,... I promise…," he cuts the sentence midway to inhale a big gulp of oxygen, an action which results in a minor coughing fit. 

"I promise to try my best to stay by your side as long as physically possible. " A statement which makes him want to cry instead. 

"Does it mean you’ll stop smoking then?" 

Oh, that devious android, of course this conversation would lead here, why wouldn't it. He glances at his nightstand, checking if the half-full box of cigarettes is still there, waiting for him to take its lethal fruit. Come to think about it, ever since their little trip his taste for cigarettes has somewhat diminished. Could be the fresher air just outside these thin walls, or the fact that Connor’s presence stimulates him enough already, so the need for nicotine is not as great as it is when he has to spend his time alone or surrounded by people who hold little to no significance to him, pretending like he doesn't crave something beyond the drug his body could very well function without. 

"Yeah..., yeah, okay." Gavin buries his face in his hands, disbelieving his consent. 

As he puts them away and folds them in his lap, he scroungers up a lazy smile meant to lighten up the heavy mood, to maybe clear Connor’s stormy sky a little. 

"But only if you promise to try to be more optimistic…  just a smidge.., " he makes a gesture with his two fingers to show how small of an effort would suffice. 

Then he gives Connor a friendly pat on his thigh, after which he realises that he doesn't have to limit his displays of affection anymore, not after all the intimacy they have been willing to submit themselves to already. 

So he lets his palm linger, allowing himself to rub gentle circles into the clothed skin. He doesn't have to be cautious with Connor, for the android isn't burdened with any biological organs that would make this situation uncomfortable for both parties. 

"Life isn't all bad, I’m sure you came across that particular information at least once during your time on this Earth. Experienced it, even. No?" 

"You're right." 

A trace of a hesitant smile on Connor’s lips is all that it takes for Gavin to heave a sigh of relief. He’s too tired to think beyond that feeling. Everything inside of him, all the emotions and memories blend into a blurry mixture as he starts losing the ground under his feet. 

But he must fight it, his friend still needs him awake...

"Let's go to sleep," Connor whispers, tugging him into a tender embrace. It’s warm and safe and he can't concentrate on anything but the wave of love pulling him under to the sweet slumber he’s always yearned for. 

Indeed, life can be ever so wonderful sometimes.

@a-convin-new-year

[druddigoon]

hi here’s some bederia scraps i’m dying 

ye be spoilers

-

> soulmate au that never came into fruition, where soulmates involuntarily shared each other’s memories through dreams

Bede had his first soul-dream when he was twelve. 

It was uncommon to get them that early, but not unusual; most came and went whenever they pleased, snippets of another’s life that flickered just beyond memory. Until you met your soulmate, you had no control over what got sent and what got received. All you could do was face it. 

He remembered it like this: sun-flecked meadows green at summer’s peak, soft breeze fresh with new discovery. There was someone else with him, whose face was blank but hands were warm and calloused as they enveloped his, who talked in a rumbling baritone so low it was like the earth itself was singing him a lullaby. He picked Bede up and swung him like a merry-go-round, and for once there was no fear, just weightless laughter tethered by clasped hands and belonging. 

When he woke on stiff orphanage mattresses, he woke with an aching deeper than anything he’d known for a while.

-

> self-indulgent gloria sketch about bede getting to know each of her pokemon. never finished

"No, go away," Bede says to the monster hovering near his heels. "Bad, nasty bug. Go away."

Durant gives no indication that it hears him except for the little tilt of its head. It gingerly noses his pant leg, then, with mandibles that can snap his entire calf, nibbles at his ankles. Bede blanches. 

"Gloria, get your metal death machine away from me."

"Hmm?" Gloria's head peeks out from behind a steaming curry pot. "Awww, he likes you! Durant always wants to be everybody's friend. He wouldn't harm anyone outside of battles."

"I've seen him--" Bede bites back a wince as Durant digs its claws into his leg, trying to haul itself up. "--bring back huge sticks, only to snap them clean in half, accidentally, and sit down to whine over them. He's a hazard."

"Face it, you're only bitter because he one-shots your entire team. Relax, I've been training him to better control his strength, so you shouldn't have any unfortunate accidents." She leaves her curry to simmer as she makes her way towards him, disentangling the ant pokemon from his pants to carry like a doll. Durant nibbles at her chin, and Bede has a split-second panic attack at how his partner's face is held between its shearing jaws.

"Gloria, I love you, but..."

"Here." She grasps his hand and guides it to Durant, holding it still as antennae feel around. With a trill, Durant lifts its head to expose its neck. "Scratch him here, on the junction between the head and thorax. It's his favorite spot."

He does.

 The "chin area" is sleek and strangely warm. Durant's abdomen shakes almost like a wagging tail as it leans into his palm. 

Hard to believe something that can so mercilessly tear down battles with iron head and rock slide would be coming back for scritches. Gloria's watching the two of them with a small smile on her face, and suddenly he understands. Like pokemon, like trainer.

-

> from silent storm, sundering -- brief description of bede’s battling style from gloria i liked, before i scrapped the scene and rewrote it in bede’s point of view 

Bede fights as if his pokemon are an extension of his mind and soul. You’ve encountered it before, the unpolished beginnings of his style in the mines and more recently in the Wyndon semifinals, but under Opal’s tutelage it’s been honed into something unspoken, innate in how his hatterene moves before he’s given the gesture, attacks mirroring the rise of his voice or the rhythm of his words in perfect synchrony.

-

> from keep them in your mason jars -- original idea was for bede to accompany gloria to postwick after her mother died from a heart attack. had to change it because the idea proved to be too much of a challenge for a simple, short prompt

“They said she had a heart attack. Young for her age, might’ve been prevented if they rushed her to the hospital in time.” Gloria dips her head, hiding her face out of view. “Except the nearest ER is a couple hours hike from here a-and they d-didn’t find her right away. She was g-g-gone before they got there.” 

He didn’t have anything to say to that, so he ended up sliding her mug full of chamomile across the table, where she cupped it with trembling hands. 

“I t-told her it was okay to rent an ap-apar—room in Wyndon. Had enough m-money now. But she didn’t want to. S-said she like this place b-better.” 

-

> from keep them in your mason jars -- starts right after gloria leaves, went off the deep end lmao rip

“What’s being gym leader like? I’ve never really followed the circuit until my Glory became champion.” 

Didn’t he rehearse something like this for his inauguration? He wracks his brain for the eloquent, well-written speech that moved a town, but the only thing he could remember was it being too cold outside for a ceremony. 

“Oh, it’s. It’s essentially leading a gym; Ballonlea is largely self-sufficient, but since the gym. Is part of a interregional circuit, part of my job there has become—”

“Mum!” 

A patter of footsteps can be heard before Gloria’s head pops out from another room. She’s holding a box, bound meticulously in ribbon and wrapping paper and still shiny despite the overall dustiness of the house. “Why was this in my room?” 

“Oh, I—” She fumbles with the kettle and hisses quietly as the steel burns her hand. 

“Mum!” Before Bede could even react, Gloria has already dropped the box and is crouched beside her mother, cradling her burnt hand. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m-I’m..”

“Nonsense, you didn’t do anything. I got too jumpy after spending a few months all by myself.” Gloria’s mother smiled, sliding her hands out of Gloria’s grasp and running them under the tap water. “That was a present for your seventeenth birthday I’d saved as compensation, since you were away for your birthday. As a surprise. Didn’t expect you to find it so quickly; silly of me to plan it as a big reveal and set it on your bed. Sorry for ruining the surprise Glory, happy very late birthday.” 

Gloria wordlessly reaches out, and the two meet in an awkward hug. 

The kettle, knocked on its side on the counter, spills boiling water onto the tiled floor below.

Piles of plastic bags bursting with second-hand toys, more than he’s held in his life. A tiny hatenna, who’d opened her eyes and telepathically asked Bede where her trainer was. His parents had swept him up in a hug, told him stay inside go to sleep on time eat all your food in the fridge yes even the gross ones, before they fled the region and left him for law enforcement to find. 

His fists are clenched tight underneath the table, nails digging hard into the meat of his palm. 

This is normal. Expected of a healthy family. He should be happy for Gloria, should be happy he’s part of this, please don’t ruin this please don’t ruin this—

You always ruin everything, don’t you? 

(His parents were fine until he came along.)

“Excuse me,” he says, chokes out with the last breath of air left in his chest, as his chair wails a banshee screech when he stands up. The outside greets him in a shuddering lungful of cool forest air. Rapidash, grazing in the pastures, raises his head as he passes. 

The gate clicks shut behind him with a click.  It’s Gloria who finds him, sitting on moss-worn drystack and watching Rapidash sniff the wooloo. He hears the scuff of her feet on loose gravel—knows it’s her without looking, with a resolve that has him wondering when he’s learned—as the silence echoes like an oncoming storm. 

"I'll book a ticket back to Motostoke today," he says, "Doubt your mum would let me inside her house after what I did."

“At least apologize to her, she deserves that much. She’s worried that she’s made a bad impression on you. After you left, she kept talking about her clumsiness scared the guest away.” 

He scuffs his feet on the stones, avoiding her gaze. She takes his lack of answer as an invitation, hefting herself onto the drystack beside him with the ease of honed muscle memory, balanced, arms outstretched. 

[lins-fandom-hub]

i’ll always be with you. (part 1)

A two part fic inspired from the recently released Head Kid TLSQ! Unedited, unpolished, but hopefully enjoyable all the same. This was written with the Etched, Engraved, Everlasting events in mind.

Part 2 will be uploaded when I finish the TLSQ and write that up.

It was ten past ten.

At least, that was the time she saw on the clock above the courtyard as she sat at the fountain’s edge, her gaze fixed on the clear night sky. The lack of sextants and telescopes made the stars look farther away but seeing the tiny twinkles in the dark blue brought a forced smile to her face—forced in the bittersweet wake of tragedy resurfaced. There was never a day when she never thought of her fallen friend, her tree twin, and to take a grand desire any student would have wanted—most especially hers…

Dumbledore wanted to consider her.

She did not even think she could consider herself.

“What am I going to do?”

Clara brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them in a fetal position, her gaze now blurred as tears welled in her eyes. As they trailed down her cheeks in a blazing rush, she shivered slightly in the night air; even with the full-length dress Rowan gifted her after the Celestial Ball, it didn’t exactly do much to block the cool night breeze, or ease her mind to think in sharper clarity.

“Rowan would know exactly what I should do,” she murmured, blinking rapidly as fatigue settled in.

“Of course I know exactly what you should do.”

“Huh?”

A voice, a voice so familiar spoke to her—yet no one was around.

“Rowan?”

The whisper of her name brought her to light now—the outline, and then the colour, of a student that she had dubbed her best friend, her tree twin, from the very first days at Hogwarts. With her messily tied Gryffindor tie and charming smile, there was no mistaking her.

“Hi Clara. I missed you.”

It took everything in Clara now not to squeal at the sight of Rowan sitting beside her. She looked just the same from the days before the ambush in the forest, before Rakepick cast the Killing Curse so mercilessly on her dear friend. Time and space mattered no longer in the moment—given the power, she would have hugged her friend so tightly she would never let go.

“Rowan!” Clara cried in sheer relief. “But…how are you here? Are you a ghost?”

Rowan’s smile faded slightly at the question. “You ask as if we don’t see ghosts every day at Hogwarts.”

“So…so this is happening! I’m so happy to see you!”

And that, at the very least, was true. The tears that once welled out of anguish were now spilling over her face in joy, eyes shining behind her own glasses like the twinkling stars in the sky. She wiped the tears quickly now on the sleeves of the dress and pulled out her wand. “Here, let me take a better look at you. Lumos!”

And as the light shone over her friend, she felt a buzz of warmth resonate in her chest. It wasn’t exactly her best friend in the flesh, but seeing her now, even just a memory of her, was enough to make her feel content.

“Lumos…That was the first spell we learned in our very first Charms class together,” Rowan reminisced fondly, a small smile blooming. “You remember.”

“Of course I do. It’s so wonderful to see you, Rowan,” Clara said sincerely, stowing her wand away. “You’re really here. You’re really back.”

“I’ve never left you, Clara. I’m always with you.” Rowan reached out and patted Clara’s shoulder, though Clara could feel nothing. “I’m just…not at Hogwarts anymore.”

“I know, Rowan. I’m so sorry,” Clara apologized then, the memory of the tragedy hitting her full force. “I know why you went after us in the Forbidden Forest that night. I know you were following me to protect me.”

Rowan’s eyes widened at the realization, and then she sighed. “Charlie and Em told you, did they? They weren’t supposed to tell you.”

“They knew. They told me after the memorial. And it was fair of them to—I had to understand what happened.” Clara balled her hands into fists as the tears pricked her eyes again. “I’m sorry. I never got to thank you.”

“Hey. What I did was my choice. And we all make choices,” Rowan told her.

“I know. And after you died, I was trying to remember our last time together,” Clara admitted. “You wanted to come with me to the train station…”

Rowan nodded eagerly. “Yes, I remember the clock stuck at ten past ten! And casting Rictusempra until our bellies hurt from all the laughter!” she recalled with a laugh.

The sound of her laugh brought a sweet wash of nostalgia over Clara’s conscience, and she laughed too at the happier memory of them earlier that year. The wait for the pearl dust and powdered moonstone for the love potion trade would have felt much longer without a friend to talk with, and for a moment she could taste the sweetness of the past, clinging fast onto the fabric of the dress.

“I never thought of it to be a day that was so special,” Clara admitted. “I mean, we had a lot of other good times together, too. Remember the Celestial Ball? And the first time we had Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks together? And the time you helped Fang get over his fear of cats?”

Rowan nodded at them all. “How could I ever forget, Clara? I was the one who gifted you the dress you’re wearing now,” she reminded her. “You look stunning in it yourself.”

Clara smiled fondly. “Well, you know what they say, right? Everything is better with a friend. Though I keep thinking what if I’d decided you shouldn’t come with me that day…my last memory of you would have been of leaving you out.”

“That’s just how choices work,” Rowan said. “Imagine how dull life would be if all was decided for you.”

“I figured the future wasn’t always meant to be clear, but sometimes I wish I did have some idea,” Clara said. “Still, is this why you’re here? Did you choices leave you stuck? Do you need my help to move on?”

“It’s not me who needs help moving on.” Rowan gestured to her friend with a hand. “Here, let me explain…”

And so they talked, almost like nothing had changed. The grief and sadness still gave way in most of the conversation, the emotions laden heavy on Clara’s shoulders until she broke down and let it go. In one night, she could lose her tree twin as quickly as she had found her again. Death did horrible things to not only the ones who still roamed the earth, but the spirits who found unrest in the wake of the phenomenon—and Clara was not ready to let her go.

She never thought of it then, and she could not think of it now. Not now, when loneliness held her in its grasp for so long despite the company of other friends around her, and her sister willing to break the rules to find her and comfort her.

“You think proving myself ready to become Head Girl will help me get over your death?” Clara finally asked Rowan.

“Perhaps not over it, really, but through it for a start,” Rowan responded with a smile. “Besides, you deserve to be happy. You need to go back to chasing dreams.”

“I don’t know, Rowan.” Clara hesitated at the thought of accepting the position again—it was what held her back the second Dumbledore indirectly proposed this to her. “Being Head Girl had always been your dream. I know you wanted to see me become Prefect way back in fourth year when I told you about it before—but this is different now. Only one boy and one girl in our class get to become Head Boy and Girl. I can’t picture anyone else but you getting the position.”

Rowan’s eyes softened in concern, almost as if the thought had just occurred to her too. Then she said, “You told Dumbledore I would understand if you wanted the same dream—and I do. I want this for you, tree twin.”

“Wait, you know of that?” Clara sat up in shock at the words. “You really are with me always.”

“Clara, you will always be my first and best friend,” Rowan told her. “You’ll always be my tree twin. And you’ll always be the one I could be my weird self around.” Her smile then turned into a frown, eyes furrowed in worry. “I wish I had more ‘always’ things ahead of me, but instead, all I have left are ‘nevers’.”

“How do you mean?”

“I’m dead, Clara. I can never become the youngest professor at Hogwarts, I can never be Head Girl…” Rowan took a shaky breath. “I can never go home to the tree farm, never read my favourite book…never jump in puddles to hear the splash…”

So Rowan did have regrets after all. “Oh, Rowan,” Clara finally murmured in grief, her arms surging forward only to halt halfway to embrace her friend.

Rowan simply laughed and held her arms up too, hugging her friend in an airy embrace. “That’s what makes the ‘always’ so special,” she said then. “If you become Head Girl, it’s an honour and experience you’ll always have. Your name will always be in the Hogwarts trophy room.”

“And I’ll always be an integral part of Hogwarts history,” Clara mused. “I suppose if you put it that way, it sounds nice to consider it.”

They both let go of the embrace and looked at each other, a small smile tugging up at Clara’s lips. “So I would be doing this for you, then?”

“No. You’d be doing it for you,” Rowan clarified.

“What? But—but I expected you to be Head Girl, so I’ve never thought about how to prove myself as one,” Clara told her.

“Lucky for you, I know how,” Rowan remarked. “To move forward, you must first look back.”

“Wait. To move forward, you must first look back?” Clara tilted her head in confusion as the words settled in. “Is this a riddle? How do I do that?”

Rowan only smiled sadly. “I know you can do this, Clara. Good luck.”

“Good luck? Rowan—wait!” Clara’s eyes widened at Rowan’s final words. “You’re leaving? No! Rowan, please don’t leave! There’s still so much I want to say!”

“Hey.” Rowan’s figure already began to fade away as she set her hand on Clara’s shoulder one last time. “I told you, I never left you. I’m always with you, tree twin. And I always will be.”

Her smile was the last thing Clara saw before she disappeared altogether into the shadows.

To move forward, you must first look back…But what must she look back to? How far back did she have to go? Where could she start? When could she start?

Grief held her in its clutches because Rowan died. The Circle of Khanna was born because of the anger, grief, and trauma that birthed in the wake of the tragic untimely loss.

She set her jaw and balled her fists tightly. If her hunch and instincts served her right, she knew where to go first.

[very-grownup]

THE YEAR IS 2020 AND I WATCHED NEON GENESIS EVANGELION FOR THE FIRST TIME, PART 13

Episode 25.

I spend twenty minutes after the episode ends trying to articulate what I think happened to my friends, gesticulating wildly.

The episode starts with a condensed version of the last upsetting bits of the previous episode and thus sets the ground for my difficulty in expressing my thoughts on it because of the imperfect intersection of linear narrative and metaphorical examination of selfhood. I've been trying to follow the show as a narrative, even as things dissolve, but here everything just goes STOP NO CONTEXT JUST IDEA AND INTERNAL INTERROGATION which I think I follow but I have difficulty following WHILE ALSO thinking about giant robots.

Something bad happened after the events of the last episode and maybe in the overall narrative structure that's all that matters? I guess this episode is about the question of what the end goals of all the barely understood players are vis-à-vis humanity through Shinji et al.

How can we be our fullest self? What and who informs who that self is? The passive approach, as seen in Shinji, isn't it. You cannot only do what you are directly told to do and you can't intuit what other people want you to do as unspoken directions.

The isolationist approach, as seen in Asuka, isn't it, either. Trying to act and live above and without human connections or direction has made her sense of self the most fragile. She's just a shell projecting an ideal around a core of hatred.

Misato is there as, perhaps, the end result of trying to live life like Shinji into adulthood (the result of Asuka's approach is evident because she's shattered), a projected false self created to fulfill the outside expectations of others while the inner self gets lost.

Rei I feel is the one who is closest to having it 'right' insomuch as there can be a right way to be a human being (and perhaps part of what Evangelion and its characters are grappling with is that there isn't or if there is, it's not a simple thing). She recognizes that who Rei is is shaped by Rei's interactions with other people and the passage of time and I think that Rei 3's apparent rejection or turn on Gendo's influence is because she knows that's not the entirety of it. Everyone is confronted to some degree by the fact that the version of themselves seen by other people is flawed but in Rei's case she's able to know it in a profound way because she is aware of the previous Reis and their memories but also of herself as distinct from them. So Shinji knows her but he doesn't Know Her and much of what Rei knows of others is removed, the Rei deaths and recreations putting a barrier between a direct human connection. The human connection is key but perhaps the degree to which so much of it is abstracted in Rei is why she isn't fully emotionally engaged as a person, even when her understanding of personhood is so much fuller than the others. No human connection leads to Asuka: fragile and quickly destroyed. Shinji recognizes the importance of the human connection, maybe, but fails to enact the how and in its place he has the projections of what he thinks other people want guiding him.

The people in our hearts aren't real people but just manifestations of our self speaking through puppets that look like people we know and can't substitute for human connection and create a similarly false self for the benefit of the false people projections (Misato).

Shinji's fear of being hurt by human connections results in his inability to make human connections and his holding himself up to the standards of imagined human connections which are unsatisfying and disappointing to everyone, including him.

Gendo's Human Instrumentality Project seems to be about recognizing the need for human connections, specifically individuals filling needs for each other that cannot be filled by the individual alone, both for the pursuit of fulfilling the need to find the true self but also taking humanity beyond humanity. I think it's because Gendo has sublimated his grief and sense of loss with respect to his wife into viewing the ability of individuals to obtain fulfillment and then lose it as a weakness that can be overcome.

If all of humanity loses its individuality and turns into the orange tang all humans are always complete and cannot be made incomplete by losing part of themselves. This is too much connection and gross, indistinguishable. What is the point of this if there is no individual?

Right now it looks like all approaches are imperfect and lead to failure, certainly in the context of Evangelion and these characters.

Visually everything is very cool in this episode even though the budget limitations are obvious. The work arounds are creative and inform the substance of what's being said, I think? There's distortion and dissolving and isolated figures on foldout chairs under spotlights.

My favourite thing is how the false characters, the characters talking to the real characters in the chair, are clearly drawn differently, badly, off model. Something is done to indicate their lack of realness, especially the false Shinji in Misato's heart.

I'm sorry if this commentary has become increasingly boring, I'm sorry if I'm doing or talking about Evangelion wrong or badly or pointlessly. I've really enjoyed it. This concludes my report on the penultimate episode of Neon Genesis Evangelion.

The final episode behind the cut.

Episode 26.

I appreciate the honesty of opening the episode with text that basically announces "look we don't have the time to explain everything so we're just going to explain it as it pertains to this microcosm called Shinji". It's a very clever/honest sort of meta acknowledgement of MAN THE BUDGET OOPS but I feel it's also in a way of framing the psychological aspect of the narrative as something that is not unique to Shinji but Shinji is merely the lens through which something more universal is viewed.

The episode seems to be divided into four distinct sections. The first bit is a ramped up version of the meditative internal discussions that have become increasingly frequent during the series. Interrogation by on screen text asking questions like are you happy, why aren't you happy, what do you want, why do you want this, why do you do that ... some of them very basic therapy sort of questions, others being refinements of that, questions meant to prompt you to look inward for an answer only you have.

But although we're told that this is an examination of Shinji sometimes Asuka is answering, sometimes Rei is answering. Sometimes they're asking the questions. Sometimes other characters are asking or elaborating, unseen.

Previously I've talked about feeling like narrative-wise things have been dissolving, when I try to recall a sequence of events, but here what's dissolving is the distinction between the characters because the experiences are unique but the feelings are inherently universal.

There's a lot of different things going on here, visually. Still portraits, reused footage from previous episodes, repeated shots of a rotary phone with the cable cut really sticks in my mind for some reason, what seem to be actual black and white photos of contemporary Japan. There's a universal quality and it's also how everything around you, all the people and experiences, make up the you that you are, shown with an outline of Shinji that's filled with rapidly flashing poorly imposed images of others that don't fit in his outline. It's cool.

That's when the episode transitions to its second bit which is, like, I don't know. It's a bit student film, it's a bit like that Loony Toons bit where Daffy Duck is talking directly to the animator who can erase and redraw him at will. It's barely animated in parts.

I had this understanding that Evangelion ran out of money near the end and that the last episode was barely animated at all and I think I assumed it would be like how I understand the second disc of Xenogears to be, just ... text because we can't do assets? But it's not. It's unpolished and sketchy and minimal, in spots just pencil drawings or roughly coloured in with markers, at one point it's just wave forms? But it was sad and weirdly beautiful and it felt like an extension of Shinji's internal struggle for meaning and understanding. Maybe because the lack of budget gives it an aesthetic similar to a student or art school film, it informs the material with a sincerity that I feel would be lacking in a more polished, traditional product. The fewer hands that can be felt in something the more /authentic/ it feels.

I, at least, have a greater patience and a great appreciation for something when I feel an authentic quality from it, even though that's only my perception. Form and substance compliment each other here, even if it's just because of budget constraints.

There's a really good part where it's just Shinji in a white void and it's, you know, about how that's the safest because there's nothing constraining him because he's the only thing, but it feels empty because how do we know what we are if we have no references. So a horizontal line is drawn and that's the ground in this white void and Shinji is then standing on the ground and it's reassuring, it's a reality that simultaneously limits your options but in limiting them defines what they are. It's just ... good.

Once things have been completely broken down it's time to I think reassemble them and that's the third part of the episode where Shinji wakes up in an otoge game where everything is good and normal and Asuka's his childhood friend, his mother is alive (but still faceless) and his father ... also exists and is not being actively cruel but hidden behind a newspaper, similarly faceless, existing but known (he's at the table, Yui is in the kitchen with her back always to the camera), Misato's his hot teacher, Rei is the new transfer student ... There's running to school with toast in mouth (from otoge Rei). Shinji's just a Normal Teen (but the normalcy is false, this weird artificial hyper normalcy that contrasts with the sad, raw realness of Shinji's life in Tokyo 3).

That's on the stage that Shinji is watching from his stool in the empty gymnasium with Misato and it goes dark and it's like ... this is another reality but I don't think it's meant to be a quantum thing but an example of the potential of, like, /imagine/ a you who is happy. So this is the fourth part of the episode and it's characters, every single character, interrogating Shinji, pointing out Shinji's flaws, and giving him ... advice? Guidance? A lot of it is ... bad. The characters recognize real problems Shinji has, that Shinji knows he has and then they tell him things which are presented as, for lack of a better term, 'solutions' to his problems of self. But a lot of them are not actionable. Some of them are little more than 'you hate yourself but have you considered ... not hating yourself?'

Much like when Shinji gets praised, once, by his father for what he did in the robot and that is assumed to be good because it's good in comparison to the nothing he's received, the words Shinji gets here are presumed good because they're actual acknowledgement of his problems.

The result is Shinji standing on the earth, surrounded by the other characters, announcing that he is determined to care for himself, and they all applaud and congratulate him and it's weird. It's presented as happy but there's no emotion. No emotion in this climax of a series that has so effectively evoked so much emotion, raw and powerful and real and relatable. It's not happy. It's not sad, either. It's just an absence of sadness. It's this orange tang safety in muted absence of loneliness or danger. I think because Shinji is given good conclusions for his problems (self-worth and love have to come from within, you need to allow yourself to care for yourself or you'll never believe completely that others can care for you) but he's not shown a good path to get there. What people tell Shinji gives him an understanding of what the goal is (happiness) but none of the tools to get him to happiness, something he has no real personal experience with, so the ending he arrives at isn't authentic. It's a false construct, like the otoge realty.

It's not a good ending but I think it wants there to be a good ending and the viewer to recognize when a 'good' ending isn't really good. It's a lot to think about. This concludes my report on the final episode of Neon Genesis Evangelion.

[cheonsascenarios]

Can i request a LE smut a male reader in the studio ?

➜  Interference

Pairing: LE x Male reader

Request: Yes

Genre: Smut

——————————————❖———————————————

Finally, after months and months of applying to jobs, you landed one. Well, technically. Shinsadong Tiger was producing a new album and wanted some young blood assisting him. It was your chance to prove your worth.

Choosing your outfit was difficult. You wanted to dress properly, it was an important day. But on the other hand, you didn’t want to seem too uptight. You decided to go for a casual look: Jean, hoodie, jacket. Decent enough for an intern who was supposed to bring fresh ideas to the table. You got there early. You bought coffee for everyone coming. First impressions are always important. You scrolled through twitter to kill some time. An article caught your attention:

 -LE ALBUM IS AROUND THE CORNER! -

“After being out of the public eye for almost a year, LE is coming back with a new album. Shinsadong Tiger will be producing it and he assures it will be something that the fans have not seen before”

You kept scrolling but you didn’t read anything.

“Ah, I see. Yes, that must be it. They hired me because they want me to work on-”. A very sharp sound made you look away from your phone. It was coming your way. One after another they became louder, feeling like knives stabbing your heart. Suddenly, the sounds stopped. Now with its source revealed, so did your heart for a moment.

“...LE…”

Your guess was correct. Standing in front of you were Shinsadong Tiger, his assistant, and LE. The sound you heard before, came from her black heels. She looked intimidating. A black leather skirt, a black shirt, and a black leather jacket. Anyone else in that outfit would’ve looked just normal to you, but there was something imposing about her.

“Ah, y/n, you shouldn’t have bothered! I appreciate it anyways!”. Still dumbfounded you tried to respond asking what did he meant, but then you realized. The coffee. You didn’t know LE was going to be there, so you just bought 3 cups. The panic caused by that comment must’ve been showing in your face because while going into the studio LE said: “I don’t want coffee”.

Great. It was obvious she noticed what actually happened and felt insulted. You had to come up with something to either fix the situation or make it seem like you actually bought coffee for her. Lost in your thoughts you didn’t see Shinsadong and his assistant following LE. After getting back to your senses, you also followed them.

“Um, I didn’t get to present myself earlier, I’m-”

“Okay, listen. I just got back from a shoot, I’m really tired and some new producer rubbed me the wrong way. Let’s just do what we came here for and go home”

“I’m really sorry. Look, it’s my first day and I wanted to make a good impression. No one told me you were coming. Had I known beforehand, I wouldn’t have come across as such a rude person”

“I guess you have a point. I was supposed to go home but I wanted to finish this song. Whatever. Let’s move on”. 

She offered you a handshake which you gladly took. She looked you in the eyes. She seemed curious about something. Before letting go your hand she smiled while slightly nodding. She turned around and went into the booth. You were confused as to why she did that but decided not to worry about it after having dodged such a bullet.

“So, this is what we are going to do. LE is going to go through some verses and I want you to do whatever you feel fits those bars better. Got it?” Shinsadong Tiger calmly explained to you how the process should be.

“Yes! No problem!”. After receiving the task, you sat down in front of the booth glass. On the other side, LE sat down in front of the mic. It wasn’t a big studio so it seemed like you were sat across the sides of a table. Through the glass, you could only see LE upper body. You put on your headphones and started listening to LE going through her lines. Shinsadong was sitting at the back on the couch with his assistant, talking about something you couldn’t quite figure out. While going through some files in your notebook, LE voice sounded in your ears:

“You know, we may be cool now but I’m still a little upset. I don’t like being upset. So, we are playing a game. This is your first day, right? I know you really want this and for it to work you need to make a good job. It’ll be a pity if the recording seems unpolished”. This whole time, she seemed just to be reading her lyrics. Her eyes didn’t move from her notebook page. Needless to say you didn’t know what she meant.

“Um guys, something came up. I gotta go. Send me the track, I’ll check it tonight”. Shinsadong left the studio. 

“Okay, let’s go from the top”. You said to LE. When looking up you saw her staring directly at you. A devilish smile was printed on her face. Confused and a little scared, you played the instrumental.

“Uh, nights got colder after you lef-”. Something was off. You asked LE to stop and so she did. There was some noise going around and you couldn’t find out what was it. After checking everything you found nothing. Still wondering what was that sound, you asked LE to continue. 

“Uh, nights got colder after you left, why is it th-” There it was again. But this time it kept going. It sounded like some sort of interference but louder than it usually is. Looking around to see what could possibly be the cause of it, you found it in the last place you thought you would. 

You looked up and LE was biting her lip. You followed her arm and noticed that it disappeared under her skirt. She was touching herself. What you thought was “interference”, was actually LE clothes’s sound. 

“Oh my God. What are you doing!?

“I told you we were playing a game”

“Are you for real!?

“Hey, it’s not me who needs the job. If you want to have a song by tonight, you better take out all the sounds I’m making”

“You know this is crazy, right?”

“I do. That’s the fun part” She giggled at the end.

“Fine. Wanna play? Let’s play”

You started the recording once again and while she rapped, you tweaked filters in order to take out the sound LE’s hand and her clothes were making. After 15 seconds you stopped her and smiled: “See? I’m that good.” That was your mistake.

Taking it as a challenge, LE stood up and unzipped her skirt. She threw it somewhere on the floor. Sat down, resting her feet on the lower chair support and spread her legs. She put her hand under her red underwear and pulled it aside.  You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. A glass was the only thing that separated you from such a spectacle. Wearing headphones made it all worse because it felt as if she was in your head. 

“Let’s see what you can do with this” LE challenged you. Her fingers went up and down her slit. You could tell how wet she was by the sounds she made when moving. Just to see such a view was enough to make you hard. Listening to the sound her indecent act was making, turned it into torture.

“What is it? You can’t handle this?” LE's voice got breathier.

“No. It isn’t that. I just thought how funny it would be to let those beautiful sounds in. To let everyone know how much of a slut you are”

“Too bad you’ll have no job by then”

Even if you hate to admit it, she was right. You needed this to work. Fixed on making a track that you could send your boss, you sat down once again but responded with an equally powerful attack.

“WHAT ARE Y-” LE yelled.

You took your cock out. You were already rock hard. You stroked it releasing a suffocated growl. “If I’m doing this, I might as well make it fun for myself”.

LE was shocked. But not in a bad way. Her facial expressions told you she just got more aroused. Also, her hand movements became less sporadic and now focused on a single spot. Her panting started to mist the booth’s glass. It made you move your hand faster, matching her pace.

“From the top”. You pressed play, and the red light turned on. LE started rapping and her voice was troubled by her moaning and heavy breathing. You stood up and went into the booth. Once inside you positioned yourself in front of her and without stopping your movements you told her:

“Faster. I need you to go faster”. LE did so. Not only in her now lousy rap but in her motions as well. The little circles her hands were doing were now really small, applying all the pressure on her clit. Her eyes now only looking at yours expressed how far gone she was. You ripped her shirt open, buttons flying all over the floor. 

“Yes, that’s it. Give me your all” You groaned while you commanded her hand and yours to squeeze her breast. Close to your limit, agitated, you told her: 

“Now, for the climax… I need you to go in, go in on it”. 

Clenching her jaw, alternating her sentence with strong exhalations, LE responded: ”You are the producer... take care of it”.

As soon as she spoke those words, in a single action you went into her. Her walls were so hot you seemed to melt inside her. You’d never fucked a pussy so sloppy. Things got messier with every thrust. The sounds you heard earlier were nothing against the sound of you ramming her over and over.

“Fuck” LE shouted. She tightened around you as her whole body clenched. Her head tilted backward, making her chest look even bigger than before. As you felt this, you also let yourself go and released your hot load inside her. You only stopped moving once you got it all out. When backing out, your cum leaked out of LE’s glistened entrance.

Slowly recovering and reincorporating herself onto the chair, LE said while sighing:

“Guess you can’t work on that one. Am I right Producer?”

“Maybe next take will be better… unless you feel like not cooperating again”

“Who knows… I may still need instructions”

[messymagician]

The Devil’s due

Sarah (Arcana OC) X Julian (Arcana) Follows the main plot story, with changes. Just shy of 4k words. ________________________________________________________________

Chapter 5 : Salty and bitter.

A gentle touch to the shoulder made the rather scruffy-looking magician grumble and gripe from her sleep. Scrunching up her little round nose as quiet chuckles roused her awake. "Mrrrrrmmmm…. What year is it?" She sighed sarcastically while lifting both palms to her face to squish the sleepiness from her eyes. Yikes she felt awful. Not mentally, just physically. Her knees were stiff and it felt as though both of her eyes had been left dry all night.

"I'm going to be heading out, I wanted to give you something before I leave." Asra soothed quietly, enjoying the sight of Sarah's almost childlike waking grumpiness. 

It had been longer than he could remember since he'd had such a sudden connection to someone. But something about her… it was familiar. In the best possible way. Like being wrapped in a warm blanket that reminded oneself of home; watching her little mannerisms felt like a long lost pass-time.

Her drowsiness setting aside eased him back into the present, taking her hand to deposit something small but sturdy into her palm. Standing up and throwing a long shawl over his shoulder. "For the shop. You're welcome to stay whenever you need to."

She didn't have much time to both process his words, investigate the item, and thank him so the latter fell to the wayside temporarily. Flipping the chunk of metal over in her hand before the light morning blindness set aside and she could clearly see what it was. A key. Chunky and unpolished.

Oh wait, this is a key to here?! Her mouth opens to object but the front door clicks downstairs and as she quickly scans the room for Asra it seems he's already outside. Leaving her sitting with her legs dangling off of the spare bed for a moment. A key to the shop. Wow. Her meltdown yesterday must've really had some kind of impression huh. She huffed through her nose, struggling out from under the covers.

It looked like it was just past dawn. Not quite midday yet, the sun still hanging low in the morning position. A few flocks of pigeons sat softly cooing to one another on the opposing roofs outside. She stretches out, feeling her shoulders pop, before getting up and immediately going to explore the shop. There are so many cool things to look at, most of which totally blew over her head last night. She fumbled down the steep staircase and dropped the last two steps in one jump, feeling the last of her dopey waking-up brain finally turn its lights on.

The sweet smell of tea and cinnamon from last night has faded. Leaving a colder, but much fresher, air in the room. Her stomach rumbled hungrily but it was eclipsed by eager out-loud reading of ingredient bottles stored behind the front desk. "Ground amethyst, acorn tops, charmed writing quill ink, powdered pearls… Asra must have collected these himself." She mumbled to nobody in particular while turning a vial of melted lavender buds over in her hands. 

An indeterminate amount of time had passed. Sarah, totally lost to the exploration of the shop's inventory, was startled by a loud knocking at the front door that made her jolt upright directly into the shelf above. Smoothing down her hair shortly after with a grumble. A customer? But she's not the store owner. Should she let-

"Sarah? Are you here? It's Portia- milady said that the other magician had you here last night-" a wave of relief made her eyes almost roll at Portia's little voice coming from behind the door. Briskly jogging over to pull it open, seemingly to the curvy woman's only brief surprise. "So you are here, I owe that new guy some money." She sweetly sings with a bright look to her rosy face. Portia was a lovely little hard worker, around Sarah's height but with just an absolute mountain of messy constantly curly hair tied back behind her head. If she didn't know her and Julian were siblings she probably could've guessed based on their hair alone. "We need to talk…"

"God, don't remind me. Julian was saying that all day yesterday." She cringed, stepping aside to let them in. Her words seemingly slipping Portia's mind as her little eyes got temporarily distracted by the sights inside.

"Wow, this is what the shop looks like? He wasn't lying huh, it really is a place for magical doo-hickeys." Her hands brushed along a crystal ball before she shook her head quickly and moved onto a long cabinet of herbs.

"...You said we needed to talk?"

"Oh! Sorry, Sarah. You're right." She swallows, placing a hand at her hip and cocking her head. "Milady wanted me to come check up on you. Um, see how you were doing on the investigation. You know with Ily- ...Julian." her cheery demeanour seems to diminish. Melting at the heavy weight of her love for her brother and her duty to Countess Nadia.

Sarah felt a sting of guilt and pity. This poor girl has Julian of all people as a brother. Being hunted down must be rough on her just as much as him. "Do you want me to catch him?" She asks gently, watching Portia's expression widen after being caught off guard.

"Me? Why would that matter?"

"He's your brother. And if Nadia catches him she'll…" The words struggle to come out. The both of them feeling sickly at what they already know is coming. "...He'll be hanged. Portia, are you really ok with that?"

"I-.... No. Are you?" She asks back innocently. As of trying to gauge Sarah's affinity toward her brother and her job. 

But the answer was clear even to a blind man. Her brows pinching and turning up in mild worry. "No." 

The previous unease in Portia's shoulders evaporates along with a long low breath. Like the concern never existed, a bright smile pierces her freckled cheeks. "Great! So we're partners then." She winks mischievously. Putting a smile back on Sarah's face too.

"Partners?" She echoes back as Portia's hair flops to one side over her shoulder 

"Well, we both want the same thing. Right? You don't want my brother to die. I don't want my brother to die." Hmm. That is certainly a way of putting it. Though Portia quickly rolls her eyes and looks fed up. "Now we just have to make sure my brother doesn't want my brother to die."

"We need to get him out of the city." The little Devorak starts, placing both hands comfortably in front of her in a streamlined way. "As long as he's in Vesuvia, he's in danger." And as much as the plan sounded good something gnawed irritably at Sarah's ankles.

"Is he really going to let us help?" She asked uncertainty, watching Portia pout enough to give her an answer without words. If last night was any clue, Julian wasn't easy to just 'help' without getting some fussy kickback.

"Sounds like you're talking from experience." She griped, watching Sarah's chest heave in a long sigh. 

"I am… last night-"

"Last night?" Portia quickly interjects, shushing her own surprise with pursed lips. It seems both siblings have a knack for trying to carry the conversation. It made Sarah smile a little despite the topic's contents.

"Yes. He… kept distancing himself. Trying to get me to go away, saying he needed to do things alone…"

Portia nodded firmly, rolling her eyes and flipping a small curl of fiery hair out of her face. "That sounds like Ilya, alright. Let me guess, he said it was to keep you safe?" Was he like this to everyone? Both his sister and the mysterious wizard, Asra, seemed to already know what would have transpired during last night's outing. It only made her more irritated that she fell for it and didn't fight harder. 

A soft look of recognition passes Portia's blue eyes. "He used to do that to me all the time when we were younger. Never let me handle anything… Always shouldering someone else's burdens, while lamenting how heavy the load is." A short pause let Sarah giggle at Portia's dramatic body language when pretending to be 'faint' from dragging the world's problems around. "I mean, it's nice to hear he's still my same brother. And now that I'm older, maybe I can finally help carry that weight. Ilya needs people he can rely on…" 

A spark intertwined between the two as they locked eyes. Some form of eager anticipation almost palpable in the fabric-scented air as Sarah pulled up the key to the shop and Portia grinned firmly. "He might need you. So let's go find him."

"Do you know where he went?" The obvious tone of both quiet challenge and mild intrigue made Portia head for the door. Already knowing that seeking out this Magician was a very good idea… for everyone's sake. 

"I think I might know where he is. Follow me."

___________________________________

A heavy scent of booze and old wood filled Sarah's lungs as the tavern door swung open with little resistance. Inside was well lit with candles that hung in old bird cages from greying ropes. Several very plain and very old looking metal tankards clapped against grainy wooden tables. The atmosphere seemingly inviting them in, a little prepared for trouble.

Low-grumbling murmurs and hushed conversations made the air feel alive. A big, almost stereotypically, burly man behind the bar stood cleaning his mugs. Only stopping for a moment to nod their way before going back to his work. Oh yeah. This is absolutely the place.

Portia also seemed sure Julian would be hiding out here. A firm and unshakable look of certainty to her blue eyes. "Trust me. I know my brother. He'd definitely hang at a place called The Rowdy Raven."  Her round elbow jabs playfully into Sarah's side, which she returns with a small nudge while their eyes scan the room in opposing directions. A semi-hidden spark of auburn forcing Sarah to double-take in it's seat. Sighing as she puts a hand on Portia's shoulder to get her attention.

Julian. Slumped drearily over a table with his face obscured by a thick tangle of indescribably frazzled hair. A tall glass mug in one hand and several more littering the table. All but the one he's loosely holding onto are empty. "Oh boy." Grumbles Portia from behind Sarah's arm. "There he is. Listen, when he gets like this, what he really needs is a good boot to the ass. You want to deliver it or should I?"

"A boot to the ass." Sarah repeats, with an almost cute scrunched up expression. As if she was trying her damnedest to look angry. Oh boy did she have the boot, she just had to stop feeling sorry for him first. He did this to himself and now they were going to drag his sorry boney butt out of it! 

"Alright, you're up then." With a final pat to the back Portia let Sarah approach first. Clearing her throat as loudly as she could manage while crossing her arms to look bigger.

"Julian."

The semi-wasted man seems to jump a tad at the sound of his name being addressed so clearly. Almost dropping the slightly swaying cup in his hand while hauling his forehead away from the table. Looking up with an obviously not quite focused eye. Dazed for a moment before it shot wide open. "Sarah!" His speech was a little fumbled. But then again…. When wasn't it? "You uhhh- you're here. In the Raven. In front of me." There was a note of unprepared disbelief before he could straighten a little more. The collar of his white flowing shirt crooked on one side. "What, uh. What are you doing here?"

"What are YOU doing here. It's the middle of the day!" Portia barks from behind her now taking point to Sarah's right.

"It's never too early for a glass of Salty Bitters. Bartholomew makes a grand one. Barth! Hey, Barth!" Julian yells over the barely talking crowd, making Sarah's cheeks go red with embarrassment. "Two more bitters, would you?"

"Julian!" She whines, quickly re-centring his attention on her. "This is stupid, you're liable to be caught, acting like this."

He sneers cockily, only making her frown. "Caught? Me, caught?" Though within a matter of seconds it dissolves. Leaving only a sad mope. "Mmmm. Good. I deserve it." Just as fast as his mood changed before, it swiftly changed again. Clearly influenced heavily by the bitters. Throwing his arms out in a dramatic fashion. Backhanding a chair on accident that wobbles precariously before settling back down. "You must be relieved. Even if you weren't last night, well. Just look at me now, hmm? I'm all…. I'm all washed up. You'd better get out of here, before I drag you both down too."

Armed with the hindsight of last time, and both Portia and Asra's unsurprised reaction to the story, Sarah feels her crossed arms tighten. Not this time you sad sack of fermented leech juice, she's not going anywhere. Sarah wasn't about to walk out on him drowning himself in drink and dramatic sorrows while he gets arrested. "No."

"I- er, what?" He spluttered, having almost put the mug back in his mouth to drink. Staring at her in disbelief.

"We aren't leaving." She reiterated firmly, glancing over to Portia who gave a small hidden thumbs up to relieve her tension.

Julian looked positively stunned. Sitting in confused silence for a while before groaning and flopping his head noisily back down onto the table. Pressing his cheek into the wood grooves while his eye closed. His voice now partially muffled and very quiet. A reluctant retry at the same shtick. "I don't want either of you two tangled up in this mess. I can't be the reason you get hurt."

"Oh drop it already." Sarah lowered her crossed arms, knocking Portia's shoulder as a signal to chime in. 

"We get to decide that, Ilya, not you! Stop trying to push us away."

"I-" His cheeks flushed red beneath the mop of hair where his face was. Lifting back up to look at them both in a dry-mouthed stupor. "Well, you both came all this way…" turning the charming less serious act back on with a mild smile. "Why don't you pull up a seat? Take a load off. Have a Salty Bitters. They're disgusting……….  I've had five."

His admission of guilty drinking was almost funny. Given any other situation, Sarah would have likely found that statement hilarious and joined him. This, however, was not the time to sit and wait. "Well… we have two options. We can either spend all day here, crying into our drinks-" She gestures down at his mug with her head, raising her brows a little despite the half-lidded glare underneath them. A quiet 'you should they're delicious-' mumbling from Julian as she continued. "Or we can find out the truth, and discover what really happened."

Before any answer could be made Portia jumped in with her own. "Or, third option, we get Julian out of town and figure the rest out later!" She squeaked in mild distress. Obviously not trusting either of them to keep Julian out of trouble enough to make sure he's not caught.

He sighs, running a glove up through his mess of hair. "I can't just run away, Pasha. I tried it before, didn't turn out so well. It's time to face the music.  

Looking exasperated, Portia rolls up her sleeves. "Fine, fine. So, if you didn't kill the count. Someone else must have, right?"

Julian's already red face seems to only get redder before he settles down. Trying to think through the hazy fog of one too many Salty Bitters. "I'm, I… didn't actually think about that. Either I did, or there's another killer on the loose." His charmed smile comes back after a moment. Considering the two little dumpling women in front of him with a silent hum. "Which is…. Bad. It's bad, if there's another murderer out there who isn't me." Catching his slowly rising concern with a side of sarcasm. "Though let's, uh. Let's be clear here. All signs point to me."

"If you mean signs as in; the fact you confessed, then yes. But other than that…. There …. Isn't really much evidence at all when you think about it." Sarah's hands lower from their crossed guard, landing squarely at her hips. The candle lanterns above, and quiet Rowdy Raven style music coming from a small band in the corner, threatening to unravel her seriousness with it's bubbly attitude. 

Portia jumping back in as she leans over the table. "We still don't know that, Ilya! Shouldn't we find out for sure?"

He sits in relative silence for a moment. Eyeing the two troublesome pains in his ass. "I suppose we should. But …" finally the tenderness in his shoulders. A sparkle of victory lighting up his verbal assailants eyes. "...I don't think I can do this on my own."

Yes! Finally! If only she'd tried this last night.  Though, Portia was a huge help too in getting him to back down. Both of their satisfied blue eyes met for a minute before they were grinning from ear to ear. "It's a good thing you don't have to, then! We can all figure it out together." Sarah's voice was restrained from being a shout, but she was clearly very excited. 

Portia interrupts once more, a hand to her lips in thought. "So, if we can't get Julian out of the city yet, what's the next step?" She asked with a little shrug. The loose shirt she wore slipping off of one of her shoulders.

Oh. Yeah. The plan was to get him out of town. They'd discussed it on the way here… but it seems that plan has quickly changed course. Sarah mulled over their options in silence, running through a few scenarios before nodding firmly. Julian's life and freedom was now hanging from a rope, like before, only now there were steps underneath to get him out safely. But how to reach them… what would be the first action to take in proving his innocence. A frustration settled in the pit of her stomach, realising that every which way this happened they would need both Julian's lost memories as well as him being in the palace. A place not easy to get into if you're well known for murdering the count.

With a reluctant wave of her dainty hand Sarah curled the nearby lantern smoke into a quick visualisation of the palace. Much to Portia's poorly hidden delight at the sight of magic but underlying worry on realising where it was. "We should start at the scene of the crime." She roughly pointed to the palace's smoky form. Her ocean eyes narrowing on where she knew Lucio's wing to be. "It might help jog Julian's memory."

Julian opened his mouth ready to point out the glaring flaw in that plan but Portia beat him to it. "It won't be a problem for us, but how will Ilya get into the palace undetected?" She whines, thinking Sarah hadn't planned that far ahead yet. "If someone sees him it's all over."

Admittedly the how of this goal was still slipping her mind. She tried to look reassuring while searching the wood train a in the table for clues before a little candle lit up in her head. If they saw Julian he's as good as toast. But what if…. They didn't see him specifically? What if he… didn't look like himself. Her brow creased with uncertainty. It was a risky spell to perform but she knew she could do it. She had used the spell a few times before… but couldn't quite remember when. "I know some magic…. That might help with that." She squinted, mulling it over before feeling a front confidence pickle at her sides. "A spell to disguise him, make it so that we can walk in without him being recognised."

"What, you mean I'd become another person?" Julian's hair bobbed with his dramatic head movement. Looking up at Sarah and finally letting go of his mug of leftover bitters. "But who would I become?" The question was a dreaded one. She needed someone relatively unknown but in her memory strong enough to look right. Not only that, but they needed to have a logical reason to be travelling with Portia and herself.

A single person came to mind. As much as she didn't want to betray the kind strangers trust so soon after meeting them it's the only conclusion that made sense after several mental retakes. She bites her lip uncomfortably, looking discreetly at Julian's sleeve while debating whether she should tell him who she had in mind. They seemed to know each other, he had guessed Julian's entire talk with her last night… "I can only think of one person but… let's change you outside. Out of sight." Sarah cringed, already feeling her fingertips tingle.

Moving the off-kilter doctor proved to be a hassle as he tried quite valiantly to stay upright. Swaying this way and that, occasionally tripping over his own long boots as they all went outside. The crisp air was clean and cold compared to in the Rowdy Raven but it was a very welcome breath of fresh air. The sky was nice and blue now that it had hit midday. The tumbling trio scuttled away to a damp corner. Dark and out of sight, exactly as they had been looking for.

Sarah felt her nerves knot and twist as the disguise spell came to mind. Taking a deep breath to centre herself and closing her eyes. She just needed to see him… the cloud like fluffy white hair. His shining purple gaze. The ever so slight golden tint to his skin. She could almost smell the shop again, hanging from his shawl. Not wanting the vision to fade she quickly fumbled into her pocket for a handful of indescribable powder. Grey and unassuming. Before blowing it directly at Julian.

The powder shifted in the before shimmering like glitter and fading. Settling onto his scrunched up face as he avoided inhaling for a second. It…. Worked. He didn't look like himself any more. No blood red hair, no silver moon eye…

Portia seemed staggered by the sudden change for a second, staring with vague familiarity. "Ohh, who's that? He's handsome!" She gasps, watching her tall brother twist and turn to try to see himself. Though it seemed to him nothing looked different. Only to them… "What, what? What do I look like?" After fruitlessly trying to spot the change he scuttled deer-legged over to a nearby puddle. Dropping to his knees and peering in with wide eyes. "Oh my god." He stares, stiff, at the image reflected back at him. Asra. Looking exactly as Sarah had seen him this morning. "I'm definitely too drunk for this."

Sarah had to hold her face on seeing his wide and very unwittingly dumb grin on Asra's pretty face. Only managing one surprised snort before shutting herself up to prevent giggles.

[daydreamindollie]

UPDATE!

Hey Dolls, 

It’s me again, I’m so sorry I’ve been dead for several months now but here I am! Unfortunately, I don’t have an official update for you (as in an update for a story or a new oneshot or something) but just to give you some reassurance about my progress, I’m here to tell you what I’ve been doing. 

So, here’s just some quick background on the happenings of the previous few months where exam season is slowly creeping up. I have two 2-hour mock exams to prepare for (psychology and biology) but I also have to complete my second project for art on micro-macro before I begin my component one to carry into the summer holidays. So school is busy but I’ve also been needing to do a lot of university searching and getting my work experience done. I actually did my work experience during the two-week holiday I was given for Easter but that took a week so I was really pressed for time. 

To add onto that *le sigh* I’ve gotten really sick recently and it’s only getting worse by the day, which I don’t understand because I’ve taken medicine for it!!! It’s so frustrating! But you know, whenever I get sick, I really have no motivation to work on both school and my writing because I just want to sleep in bed and slowly die in my filth, so that’s slowing me down more than other works are, which I HATE! 

Despite ALL OF THAT, however, I’ve gotten some work done for you! It’s not ready to be posted though but I’ll gladly tell you all about the progress. 

I’ve planned all four scenes with all the events I want happening in it. I’m about to start scene three and am at 3.3k words 

There’s a lot of fluff and some minor development in the relationship between Reader and Jungkook, there’ll also be some development in the relationship between TaeTae and Jungkook as well so look out for that! 

Here’s a little teaser for you simply because I like spoiling you guys ;) 

“Promise me you’ll take care of yourself too, Jeong,” you demand in a soft and beautifully fragile voice that has Jungkook leaning in ever so slowly closer, his urge to connect his lips with yours becoming instinct whenever in a situation where you’re looking up at him with those beautiful wide eyes, rosy cheeks and plush lips, he swears you’re silently begging him to devour your mouth with his own in a passionate dance. 

“I promise…” he whispers back, lips brushing against yours as both your eyes slowly start to close, breaths momentarily stopping as if hypnotised by each other’s eyes, daring the other to initiate it kiss first. Before either of you could follow through, however, you were interrupted by a very loud shout. 

I’ve planned around 4/5 scenes, I’ve just finished scene one and just realised that I have to do some more research so that there’s more accuracy but some delay in the writing process. But it’s currently at around 1.1k words. 

This is a bit of an angsty chapter, especially for those of you who are animal lovers but there’ll finally be some progress in Reader’s and Yoongi’s relationship 

Again, here’s a little teaser sample for you lovelies!

“Shhh…” he hushed in a husky voice despite his best attempt at reducing his rough speech into something soft just for your comfort, “it’s going to be okay…” his arm rounded your figure and brought you into his warm, tight embrace as he gave you a handful of moments to calm your heart-breaking sobs, “she’s in good hands, trust that they’ll do what’s best for her,” you nod meekly into his chest, following with a soft whimper as you cling onto the back of his shirt. The presence of time ceases to exist as you stand there hugging yourself tightly to your neighbour and expel all of your tears and sobs into his chest, soaking his shirt but he doesn’t mind. 

“Th-thank you, Yoongi,” you whisper with a sniffle as you look up at him with a rose-dusted cheek pressed to his chest, your eyes big and glossy as an adorable pout had your lips looking plumper than usual. Yoongi’s heart skipped many subsequent beats as he stared down at you, very well aware of the blossoming blush on his cheeks but unable to turn away; had you always been this cute? How could he miss that about you?  

PHEW! Planning this was so exhausting because I’ve never written smut before!  And Silly Me didn’t split it into scenes but I can assure you that it’s all planned out...the only problem is that I think I might change it again, sorry! But it’s only at 0.8k words, I’m so sorry!!!! 

But here’s another teaser, keep in mind that these teasers aren’t grammatically edited yet so please excuse the unpolished state of these teasers x

The more you avoid him and the more Namjoon is left to his own thoughts and queries, the quicker he’s beginning to connect the dots. It was the same day he had finally allowed your heavenly name to pass his lips during his ministrations for the first time since the very beginning. It was always the little things that you did that turned him on more than any other girl on campus has been able to, not even the perkiest cheerleaders, the smartest biologists or the most compassionate artist as been able to stir and tangle his nerves the way you have been able to. In your oversize shirts and jumpers, shovelling junk food into your mouth as you moan in bliss and smile happily at the entertainment you have playing on the screen before you, the innocence you display is inversely proportional to the amount of unadulterated lust you evoke within him. 

There’s just something in the way you lick your sweet pink lips clean, ridding them of the crumbs of your snacks; he can vividly imagine the way they would look lapping up the last droplets of his cum after you’ve sucked him off like the good little girl he knows you can be. He has played with the idea that you have nothing but your oversized shirt protecting you from his wandering hands even though you’re clearly wearing a bra and shorts underneath, it’s just more exciting to him if there’s a possibility that if he were to slip his hands underneath the tauntingly thin fabric of your shirt, he’ll only be met with supple softness, ready to be tainted by his fine hands. And taint them he will if you’d ever let him have the chance to. One time, several months ago, you actually weren’t wearing your bra underneath your shirt and it drove him up the wall, he was so close to you and seeing your perked nipples making an obvious indentation through the fabric made his hands itch to just reach over and squeezesqueezesqueeze your fleshy mounds until he had you squirming underneath him. Those are things he’s been able to grow some immunity to, especially after flushing out his frustrations through, somewhat, unsatisfying personal sessions with himself. However, it’s your unintentionally arousing moans that always trigger something dark and sinister within him, he’s always tried to imagine you moaning his name aloud but has to refrain from doing so or else he’s sure he’ll jizz in his pants - a dry orgasm was something he wasn’t eager to experience, yet. 

So this is a Jeon Wonwoo x f.reader oneshot I’ve been working on that’s part of a oneshot series that’s based around an alternate universe I came up with. I’ve planned 8 scenes for it and I’m half way through scene 4 and am already at 5.2k words. 

The teaser I’m about to give you is far longer than the rest but I’m just really proud of the alternate universe I was able to come up with that I feel is just so unique. I really want to show you guys how it’s coming along and get you fired up as much as possible so you can pester me to finish it and get on with the other 12 members’ oneshots for this series too! 

In a universe where people carry around their hearts, with some wearing them on their sleeves and others tucking them into the breast pocket of their blazers and out of people’s sight, Wonwoo appeared to be the only one adamant at keeping his at home and off his person when moving about. It wasn’t as though he was embarrassed by his heart or anything, it’s just that, carrying around his heart like most people usually would, was a heavy burden on him, literally. Everyone’s heart had a trait that matched the personality of the person they represented and, although they were all as unique as the person that owned them, they all had a similar trait. They were unbreakable - harder than diamond and more precious than any jewel. Despite this physical resilience to external forces, they can be fractured by one thing and one thing only: heartbreak. 

Wonwoo’s heart was much like the rest in this quality, however, his had undergone a phenomenon he’d prefer to keep to himself rather than alert the cardiologists, who specialised in the field of hand-held hearts. Before his first heartbreak, Wonwoo’s heart was soft, in any way shape or form. Its surface was smooth like the finest silk and it was rather sizeable too, almost reaching farther than his fingertips when held in the centre of his palm. Not only that but his heart had the viscosity of fluffy marshmallows. Looking back on the time his heart was of that state was laughable because it directly matched his personality: funny and sweet, soft and malleable to any given situation. Now, however, he was hardly like that now and so was his heart.

Heartbreak really changed him as a person and usually, people who suffered through that would go through therapy or counselling with their heartbreaker in order to avoid any desperate change their heart and they, themselves, would make in response to the pain of heartbreak. Sometimes, breaking another person’s heart was punishable as a crime simply because of the adverse effect it can have on an individual, and so, it was always taught to children at a young age that when given the responsibility of another person’s heart, they should handle it with the utmost care. Wonwoo never had the pleasure of going through therapy or counselling for his heartbreak; he merely didn’t want the pity that came when people found out that he had gone through something like that, and he knows for certain that many people would be alerted of his suffering. If people had ever once been heartbroken in their lives it was put in their medical records as a signpost that their heart was more breakable now than before, he also didn’t want the sympathy of others if he were to enter the heartbreak clinic. He just wanted to avoid all the trivial attention. 

And so, Wonwoo left his heart alone, to change and morph into stone. He didn’t know what stone it was but it was still as unbreakable as ever, with the exception of the damage heartbreak had brought - he wouldn’t dare test that out. Alongside the change of his heart, Wonwoo also made a drastic change in personality; now he was mostly silent and stoic, inclined to keep to just himself and his group of friends. He had become as quiet and still as his heart of stone. 

This series isn’t out yet but it is in progress. It’s going to be a really long series that’s gonna have a lot of chapters and will possibly be an OT7 x f.r fic, I don’t know, maybe I’ll make it a member-centric in later chapters - again, it’s still a work in progress. I’m still planning everything out. 

I might tweak some of the storyline because I don’t think having the entire thing progress over five years would be easy to do, unless I want to make multiple sequels for it, so like Harry Potter or something but no, that’s not gonna happen, unfortunately. I just won’t have the time. 

But here is my inspirations list and what I’m directly finding inspiration in, just so that you can have a feel of what I want this series to be like:  

- anime: Fairy Tail (Tournament + Powers)

- Harry Potter (Magic School)

- Hunger Games(?) (Tournament Style + Filming of events)

- Pokemon(?) (Mini Battles)

I’ve planned the ending (although it might change), the concept and workings of magic circles, the AU’s background/history, Elemental Stereotypes, the magic school’s background and I am in the middle of creating the members’ as well as Reader’s character profile. 

I’ve also gone ahead and planned the first year of their school, although this could change because I want to take away the years that this would be progressing through and make it more straightforward. 

This...I’ve been planning this for a while but haven’t really gotten to writing it yet. I’m hoping to make it into a mini one-shot series of Royal Encounters *wink**wonk* that’s subtly linked to each other. 

This could end up being an OT7 x maid reader or individual members x maid reader but yeah! I’ve planned out all of the ‘encounters’ in bullet point format and hope to get to writing it for you Dolls soon! 

SO I’ve been really busy, haha, despite being dead these few months, I’m so sorry that I take so long to post anything, I’m also sorry that I’m bad at building a relationship with you guys by not making casual posts like this often, where I can talk to you freely. 

I guess, I just don’t feel like I’m an interesting enough of a person for you guys to be interested in talking to me in such a way. I also have many silent readers, who I appreciate a lot, but I guess that just reassures me more on the topic of ‘being silent with readers is okay’. 

But please, if you have a question like ‘Are you still alive Dollie?’ or ‘how’s this work coming along?’, feel free to message me! I’ll happily reply as soon as possible! And it’ll draw my focus back onto what works I need to continue writing. 

You’re my inspiration too, not just our beloved idols.

Anyway, that’s all from me! I hope you’re all looking forward to what I have in store for you.

Much love, 

Dollie x

[vesperlionheart]

STAG

For @sariasprincy because she wanted this waaaay back when and I finally got around to attempting my hand at Dark!Tobirama Sakura. :D

He watched her pull her hair up, catching it with her fingers when it started to slip free. She ran her free hand over her neck, starting at the base where the peaks of her bones stuck out, bent as she was over the river. He felt just as trapped as the fish in her net, watching her pale fingers follow the curve of her neck, suddenly too dry and hoarse for words.

With silent fingers made skilled from year of weaving, she tied up her hair to keep it out of her eyes, and then looped it again into a bun she fastened with a hair stick that could have been a twig for how crude it looked. A few stray curls framed her face, rebellious and free as she straightened and let the sun fall over her profile once more.

Nothing else adored her figure, no metal or stone or bead or weaving decorated her as she set about hauling up her catch from the nets. A moment later he realized why that was so odd. She wasn’t dressed as the other women in his village were ought to do. She didn’t even wear skirts, but instead waded into the water with clinging damp trousers that rolled up just above her knee.

Someone called to her and she caught the thick rope out of the air before twisting it around her fist and digging into the shifting river bed. She set her shoulders and turned the shape of her body away from the source, then he saw her move, pulling the weight up from under the water.  

“I told you, brother, the freshest fish in the land right here. Even at market they’re not still wriggling,” Hashirama laughed. “You fancy some for dinner?”

“That,” Tobirama began, still somehow unable to look away, “should be obvious considering this was the reason for your troublesome expedition.”

It took some effort, but he manage the swallow, blink, and force his face away in that order. He caught sight of a pair of scarred fishermen wading out of the water with cages under their arms and the sight was enough to ease him back into his casual displeasure. He did not want his brother to get any ideas about their expedition being somehow enjoyable. If Hashirama ever got that into his head there would be no end to the nagging.

“It does you more good than you’re willing to admit to get out of that tower of yours,” Hashirama huffed. “You stay cooped up in your stoney prison all day and all night for months and years on end of course your personality is going to grow stale. I’m afraid I can’t take you anywhere that might make you happy.”

“I’m perfectly happy at home with my books and my work,” Tobirama lied.

Hashirama reached for his brother and drew him into a side hug, smushing their shoulders together.  “You work far too hard for such an unfavored wizard.”

“We can’t all marry princesses with lands as vast as east is from the west and grow fat for our daughters. Some of us must contribute to this wretched earth.” 

 Tobirama felt his lip curl as he pushed out of his brother’s hold and then straightened the front of his frock. It was pale gray with the crest of a black stag across the heart. A single pendant on a gold chain, vibrating with stored magic, hung down from around his neck.

Unlike his brother Tobirama dressed in muted colors of black and gray and didn’t decorate himself with many metals or jewels unless it served a function he could justify. If need arose, he could use the Hag’s Eye to unleash a simple lightning strike. All Hashirama’s ring could do was glitter.

Most days he never needed much more than his cantrips. It had been many years since his initiation into the Philosopher’s Guild and his promotion to Providence Wizard. There weren’t many others who were of his caliber anymore, and even fewer who could make him believe they were even a challenge. It had been so long he forgot what his limits were, sometimes.

“You said you wanted something different for dinner, so lets get some fish before the best tails are taken!” The cheerful Lord exclaimed, pushing past his brother and hailing down a pretty help maid who was setting up baskets for sale.

“Who even says such ridiculous things?” Behind Hashirama’s back Tobirama mocked his older brother in a higher voice that wasn’t nearly as flattering as the original. “Before the tails are taken. Pssssh.”

He froze when he heard a petite snort just over his shoulder.

Spinning on his heel he couldn’t help but raise his guard. Someone was close enough without his notice and as powerful as he was, he wasn’t without his enemies. 

The long tails of his sleeves flapped out at his side as he raised his hands for fire magic, but it was only his face that heated.

The lovely vision of a woman he had been transfixed on earlier stood with a crate under her arm, resting on her hip.

“Mister,” she called with a smile so bright and white it should have been a warning. “Will you buy from me today?”

-

“Of course I know about you. Anyone in the seven hills who has ever had to pay with copper knows about you,” Sakura laughed in an exasperated way. She leaned back on the end of the bar’s edge with her elbows. She let the leg she had crossed over the other bounce teasingly. “Why, you thought you were being subtle?”

“We have not been formally introduced. I know not your family and you-”

Sakura held up a hand to stop him and like some sort of strange magic he did. She was bewitching and pretty, but after enough encounters he was almost positive there was something more than just her own womanly charms that bound him so.

“We don’t do that sort of thing around these parts. No one under this roof doesn’t have to slave for his bread and home, mister wizard.” There was a rough tilt in her words, something rural and easy that made her words fit the landscape better than his own polished ones. She spoke like a local and he was, as always, the odd sheep out. He didn’t…hate the sound of her voice, even if she said a few things wrong or addressed him incorrectly.

“High Wizard or Tower Wizard would be more appropriate,” he corrected. In spite of his self imposed confidence, he felt himself tug on the end of his tunic and fret with the hem of its fabric. Something possessed him to worry if it was properly pressed and not wrinkled in her presence.

“Makes no difference to me,” Sakura said. She reached for her ale and drank deep before replacing it on the bar by her side. “I’m not working in the rivers today, so why bother me here mister high tower wizard?”

He could tell the way she said it none of his names were title, only worthless words in her mouth….her pretty perfect mouth. She shook himself free of the thought and pressed on with his business.

“You’re untrained, but you are not without the gift.”

Sakura stilled but then eased back into the bounce of her leg. She glanced over her shoulder and pointed to her empty tankard before wiggling two fingers. When the bar keep turned away to fill her order Sakura turned around as well.

“That wouldn’t be quite true, sir. It’s not legal to train the magic folk unless they’re sworn to a crowned figure. No one here has any magic.”

“Nature conforms to no man.”

“Yet it grows for the wizards and their towers,” Sakura countered quickly.

“You’re not as untrained as you first appear, I believe,” Tobirama pressed. He dared a step closer.

“Depends on your definition of trained and untrained, sir. I’ve never practiced magic in no tower or school, but I work the rivers and the fields when its time and I sew with the women and wash with them too. I can fix most of the carts in town and deliver most of the livestock too if the need rises for it. I’m half decent as a midwife because of necessity and some say I’m not shit at cards neither. Maybe I’m not magic trained, but I get by.”

Two tankards were set down behind her arm and she reached to drink from the second one.

“Are you unwilling to learn and develop your gift?” he asked.

He almost cringed, watching her down the first drink in a single breath. He thought she might offer him the second drink, but then she reached for it too replacing her empty tankard with the third one.

“No such thing, told you, we know it’s illegal. Any gift in any babe is prayed out of them right away. No exception.”

“But you’re not from around here, are you?”

Sakura didn’t drink, but stilled with the tankard close to her chin. She seemed to be staring down into it, watching something in her amber colored reflection.

“Oh?”

“Your accent is unusual, and I might not have noticed it at first because all rural accents seem to sound the same, but there is a difference. Where were you born?”

Sakura laughed, reaching out with the toe of her bouncing leg to touch his knee before turning around in her seat to finish the last of her drink. With her back to him she left the money on the table and then slid off the stool. Once on her own two feet, her petite stature became all the more apparent. Tobirama towered over her.

“I’m sorry mister tower wizard, but that’s too fun a story to not save for later when you actually get to know me.” She sauntered to the door and then turned on a half spin before ducking out. “Next time offer to buy my drinks you dumbass.”  

-

She was magic, he was sure of it. She was as rough as anything unpolished is bound to be when found in the wilds of nature, be he would be the riverbed that shaped her into her greatest potential if only she would let him.

But she was as vexing as she was enchanting.

She didn’t talk to him when she was working, and if she was selling she wouldn’t say anything to his questions and queries unless he purchased something, and sometimes she made him purchase more than he was willing to use just to get her responses. What was he supposed to do with four dozen river crab? He didn’t even like crab. No amount of butter was going to change that.

When she was at the pub she liked to play cards and he could usually get her to talk to him if he played with her, and he wasn’t bad, but her luck and perception was blessed by some higher power, be it fay or the Unknown or some organized god.

She spoke best after winning when he bought her alcohol.

He had learned where she came from, or as much as she knew anyway. Left behind as a baby in Oberon’s Forest and raised by working men, she had been trained to close off the part of her that gravitated towards things unexplained for fear of causing her foster family grief. The things she couldn’t help, like the suggestion and calming of emotions was something she had never been able to stifle.

“It’s funny how that doesn’t work on you,” she said once.

“I’m far too stimulated around you to be calmed by something so passive as a cantrip.”

She asked him to explain his words but he bought her another drink instead and then asked for his wine to be paired with a nice cheese and bread. She laughed and almost fell out of her chair, but it wasn’t because the beer, because it never was. She could drink a horse’s weight in ale and still do cartwheels.

In the past three months he had left his tower for a small town in his providence more times than he had in the six years he had been stationed there. He wasn’t sure that was a good or bad thing yet, but he knew it wasn’t going to change until he got what he wanted.

“You’re always asking me questions, why don’t you ever answer mine?” Sakura complained.

“You never ask me anything,” he said. His heart felt a little heavy.

“You never let me get a question in. You just start talking about yourself all on your own. Here’s a secret for you, honey, I never listen when you do that.” Sakura pulled her chair closer to his and he didn’t flinch, but his breathing might have skipped.

“I think I am insulted.”

Sakura waved her hand between them. “Don’t be, it’s the same as with everyone who’s stuck up. I don’t listen to any of them none either.”

“You think I’m stuck up?”

Sakura reached out and traced the embroidery of a gray stag on his black tunic. “Yeah, a little. Not the way your brother is because that man’s a eyeful of concentrated sunlight in the middle of summer if you know what I mean, but you got it with your wine and your cheese and the subtle ways you correct how I speak.”

His tunic wasn’t thin, but he could feel her finger on his skin under where she traced her pattern and it made him painfully aware of the fact that he had never had a woman trace any patterns on his skin with the exception of maybe his mother, maybe?

Sakura splayed her hand over the stag design and then looked up. “Who is it?”

He managed to still form words. “Who are you referring to?”

“The stag. Who is it? He’s on almost all your clothes.”

“He’s the horned king of the woods, and the creature I conducted my graduate thesis on in the academy. He’s not as well known, but he’s believed to be the one who carries the magic filled from life into death in his great antlers.”

“Poetic.”

“I was told he was morbid.”

“I wouldn’t mind being carried off that way.”

“I doubt you have to worry about that anytime soon.” He reached out and touched her face, proud of himself for daring so. There was a faint scar that had only been bleeding and deep two days ago when one of the crab traps snapped and shattered. “You heal unnaturally fast.”

“I eat my vegetables.”

“You are still clumsy,” he sighed, finding another cut behind her ear that wasn’t as well healed.

He used a cantrip to knit the skin back together and reduce the scarring. She pulled back when he was done and ran her hand over the skin, marveling at the feel.

“You can just do that?”

“Among other things. If you were willing to learn you could manage as much I’m sure.”

Sakura grinned and then dropped her hand. “No thanks. I appreciate the offer, but it doesn’t matter as much if I just have you to heal things for me.”

He didn’t like the way he felt when she said it, even though he knew he would of course do what he could if she were in need. Maybe it was his pride she hurt. “Don’t count on me so much. I wouldn’t always be there if you needed it. I have other duties I must see to, duties that call me away to far lands.”

“You’re fast,” she said around a yawn.

He didn’t think that was a fair thing for her to say, because of course he was fast. He had mastered the Misty Step decades ago and could travel across the different realities and astral planes with just a bit of help. If she called he would be there, like it or not, but she didn’t need to know that and count on it. 

It wasn’t like he was exclusively beholden to her whims or anything like that.

Sakura put her money down on the table and Tobirama scrambled to find his own money pouch for the food and drink, but she was already walking away. He dropped the silver coins and then a single gold in tip, scooping up her coins and jogging after her to grab at her wrist. She struggled at first but he huffed, calling her annoying for fighting him before pushing the copper and silver pieces into her hand.

“You know these were all originally yours, right?”

“You worked for them.”

Sakura snorted. “Did you ever eat the crabs?”

He fought the sneer at the thought of having to consume the hideous, crawling creatures. “They’re perfectly comfortable in their habitat at the tower until I have need of their…buttered meat.”

Sakura laughed, accepting the money. “I think I take advantage of you.”

“No one takes advantage of me unless I let them. If I did not wish it, not even your pathetic dredges of magic could sway me to deposit a single copper in your palm, but be as it is, I may do as I please.”

She stopped in the doorway, looking up at him, and he though he saw her react to something relating to him; maybe his words or maybe his face. She was still like a doe caught in a wolf’s sights. A terrible thought pressed into his mind when he thought of her like that. How easy would it be to just spirit her away into his tower without doors?  His tower where only those he took could leave and enter, how would she fare?

“It’ll be cold soon, please keep yourself well,” he whispered, leaning in to brush the end of his thumb over the skin he had healed. When she blinked he was gone.

-

Night frost came much sooner than anyone expected, and the villagers rushed like mad to make themselves ready and save what they could of their late harvests. Snow was still weeks off, not until the next month if the pattern of years was to be believed, but the cold was ever present, crawling down the throats of youths and making stupid men sick.

Tobirama took to donning his wolf furs when he went out on more and more errands for the Lords and King who seemed just as eager to put his magic to use for them. With the cold seasons more monster came out from the woods and waters to try and grab what they could of man meat before long sleeps. There had been several smaller Basilisks and even a Chimera he had been tasked with. Most populations on the edges needed to deal with simple were beasts and he hated being called out to deal with something a trifle wizard could handle.

It was several weeks before he could find the time to slip away and find her again.

Men still fished, but he found Sakura outside a woman’s barn with her hands and wrists still dripping in blood. She stared off into the distance not really seeing anything.

He stopped at her side and waited for an explanation.

“Can you bring anyone back from the dead?” Her voice cracked like wrinkled paper in her throat and made him wince.

“No, that is the forbidden magics that I am sword to protect the world against. I can start a stopped heart and force air into empty lungs, and sometimes I can save people who have started to die, but I can not resurrect the dead, no one can.”

Sakura turned her hazy eyes in his direction, searching for his face. “Why?”

He wasn’t sure what she meant, but he felt like there was no answer he could give her that would put her spirit to rest so he reached out and magiced the filth and blood off her hands, then wiped her tears away with his own two thumbs, holding her face as she started to waver.

“You are weary. Rest.”

He tugged her into his arms and she let him. The wolf fur cushioned her head and she snuggled into it, helping him affirm his choice to don it in the first place. He brought her back to the place she lived, the place she sometimes called home, even thought he wanted nothing more than to spirit her away to his tower and claim ignorance when others came calling.

No one else was home so he set her in the bed and then went off to find out what had happened.

One of the women in the village had a sick birth and no one had been able to stop the bleeding. Sakura had been present along with the elder healer, but even Chiyo said there was nothing either of them could have done.

“She’ll blame herself, but she shouldn’t.” The wrinkle of a woman glared at Tobirama and shook her finger without fear. “See that she rests her heart and doesn’t take this into her spirit. She’s not meant for such levity. It’ll consume her.”

But when he went to visit the next day she was in the garden, salvaging what she could from the last frost and readying the earth for what would come next. Some of the teasing was gone from her voice when they conversed, but it was not as he feared.

“Were you close?”

She didn’t move for a while, still hands and knees in the dirt. “No, but…I never lost anyone like that before. It made me feel terrible.”

“You did all you could.”

“I don’t think so. If I knew magic…”

“There are limits.”

Sakura stared up from the dirt. “Do you have limits?”

“Of course,” he lied. It was what she needed to hear. “Aside from that, even if it was possible, there are things I am forbidden from doing in the King’s Country.”

Sakura snorted and went back to her weeds. “Ah yes, the King’s Country, because he owns all of this and all of us. How could I have forgotten about that?”

“You would hate it,” Tobirama admitted with almost a smile. “I don’t think anyone could tell you what to do.”

Sakura sat up and laughed, her teeth gleaming in the filtered light as her whole body shook in mirth. She grabbed her sides and forced herself to settle enough for words. “No, but I’d like to see them try.”

“Be my apprentice then. Come live with me in my tower.”

Sakura braced on the ground and stood, crossing the patches to get to where he stood. She reached up on her toes and traced her dirty thumb over the bridge of his nose, then she poked the tip of it. He didn’t flinch.

“Sorry mister wizard sir, but I don’t think I will.”

Tobirama reached up and brushed the dirt off his face then flicked at her own button shaped nose.  He almost smiled, finally feeling content with Sakura’s emotional state. “I’m probably better off. You’d drive me crazy.”

“I think I do that already wizard sir.”

He thought it might be a nice time to lean in and kiss her, but he wasn’t sure why or even where the idea came from. She looked especially beautiful with no good reason. She wasn’t dressed in anything elegant or especially fine. She was dirty and a little untamed like usual, but she was still too much for him. His heart hurt to lock her away and keep her to himself.

The ink on his wrist stung and he hissed, looking down at that tattoo he and his brother shared. Sakura noticed the distress on his face and reached fo this hand.

“What’s wrong?”

“My brother summons me. I must answer.” It would be a simple thing for him to travel through nature or air to get to his brother’s side, but he hesitated to touch her shoulder and look down into her eyes. “Please stay safe. It is becoming dangerous with the cold season upon us. I will return shortly.”

“Of course.” She managed a smile for him. “Be safe.”

After visiting his towner he took off looking for a tree he might fast travel through. The burn on his wrist throbbed hotter and he ignored it out of spite. He didn’t have any great reason for it, but he wasn’t very happy with his brother.

The summons that burned dulled to a warm throb as distances were traveled in a single step. He emerged from the tree and brushed the last dustings of dead leaves off his shoulders. The tree was fat and short making it perfect to walk through, if only he weren’t so tall.

It took almost an hour more, but he found his brother in the war room and frowned at the sight of so many other wizards around the far walls. Some stood up straighter when they saw him, others didn’t bother to hide their sneers. Tobirama didn’t spare them another glance as he cut through to his brother.

“What of it?” he asked, showing off his wrist where the mark dulled from throb to nothing. “You summoned me from on far with no warning.”

“As all others were summoned. I thought it best you be here to see for yourself.”

Tobirama edged closer and saw a map of all the providences under the crown. His tower was at the edge, close to the wilds. Oberon’s Forest was just past that.

“What do the colors indicate?” he asked, pointing to the fog of color that rested over parts of the map. A minor magic some simple mage made possible, no doubt.

“We’re not sure, but those areas are off limits. I called you out of there against the council of others. They thought it best to leave you there.”

Tobirama looked again and saw the fog hang over his tower as well as Sakura’s village.

“What is it?”

“Blight.” The answer came from Tsunade, a relative witch who was also known as their best medical expert. Her expression was hard as she faced him.

“Livestock or timber?”

Tsunade didn’t flinch as she admitted, “Livestock, and it’s spreading to the people. No one is allowed in or out. The Emerald Order is putting up their barrier as we speak. My antidote won’t be ready for another three days of curing.”

He felt something dark sprout in his heart. “How long have you known about this?”

Tsunade didn’t flinch when a lesser man or woman might have. Hashirama wrung his hands, looking nervous among the wizards.

“Brother, I-”

“How long!?” Tobirama’s eyes flashed with red magic.

“It’s been contained to Oberon’s Forest for years and hasn’t spread since it’s discovery four ago. I’ve only started working on the antidote when the forestlings brought it out with the recet attacks.”

Tobirama turned and Hashirama caught him by the elbow. “Where are you going?”

“To warn someone.”

“You can’t.”

Tobirama turned the full force of his glare onto Tsunade who stood like stone, but her eyes were on the map that glittered with green light.

“Don’t you dare stop me!” he warned.

She didn’t look to him as she spoke. “There is nothing to stop. The barrier is already up.”    

It’ was a month later when they let the barrier down. Even with her antidote, the blight adapted. And even if he had reached her the moment he found out about the blight, Sakura’s exposure to the woman’s death had been caused by the blight. It rooted itself in her and Chiyo before he even knew about it.

When he was let back, her body was already cold, but not yet buried. Over two hundred different lifeless forms stretched out in the open graves he was expected to help close up.  

Hashiram was no comfort. “I’m sorry, there was no way you could have known and there’s nothing to be done about it now. Be at peace, brother. ”

There was no peace to be found.

Tobirama took her body back and set it on the stone in the pit of his tower where the walls collected icicles. It would keep her from decomposing, but that was the limit of his magics. He hated himself for how little he could do as he turned stone into gold and glass, making a casket he could see her through.

‘There was nothing you could have done.’

Tobirama donned his darkest cloak with the wolf fur and took no fire with him into Oberon’s forest. He still produced a candle that, when waved over his head, summoned a will o wisp to it’s wick to light the way. The pull of the sprite guided him deep, deeper than any mortal man dared. The forest lost its sound as he trespassed among the ancient roots. Creatures moved, but they were as silent as the grave.

When his light went out Tobirama stilled and waited….and waited…..and waited.

The breath on his neck made him turn just as he thought he might wait the rest of his night among the dead branches. Behind him. A dark creature loomed among the trunks, barely fitting when it shouldn’t have fit at all. It was black, but blacker than the night sky with its sick moon hanging low and full. Where its body stood Tobirama saw only void.

The horned king of the wood bent his head towards Tobirama and his antlers glittered like dark onyx. Among the prongs dozens of ghosts were speared.

Tobirama knelt in the wet soil, burying his hands in the earth until it soaked under his fingernails. He breathed deep, grounding himself on something greater than his own power. “I’ve come for her.”

The stag lowered his head even further until Tobirama could see the ghosts it carried.

“What you ask may not be grated without a price. You know not the price for what you seek.”

“There is no price too high for this,” he swore. “I have come to claim my own.”

“Then you may walk, child, but take heed, you may yet pay for it in unexpected ways.”

The stag touched his massive face to the ground and Tobirama stood. He stepped onto its head and ran up the length of his face, running for whole minutes before he reached the first ghost. He felt his heart pinch with something sick and turned, finding her there, beautiful as ever, even in death.

He carried her spirit in a ring and then poured her back into her body before the dawn could break. He held her form in his arms among the shattered remains of her coffin, swearing up and down to every old god he knew the name of that if she didn’t return to him he would tear them from their thrones and turn the world over in black fire.

But Sakura breathed deep as the sun filtered through the windows and down the mirrored channels into her chamber. Tobirama felt shattered by the color of her eyes as she looked up at him and then smiled once more.

“Sorry I couldn’t keep my promise,” she croaked, barely managing a sound.

Tobirama didn’t care, he kissed her and folded her up into his arms.

-

And that’s how he wished his story would have ended, but nature would not be so undone without consequence.

Sakura was well known as a dead woman, so in his fear he kept her in his tower and dedicated all his days’ hours to her entertainment. He taught her how to disguise herself and even though her magic couldn’t hold up for more than ten minutes, he risked it some nights when the moon peaked out.

“You need to exhaust yourself on cantrips every day,” he grumbled to her. “If you don’t your limits will never change. Push against them.”

“I’m trying,” Sakura sighed. She rubbed her eyes and sank into a nearby chair and then proceeded the slump even further.

Tobirama’s heart pinched and he ran for her before she could fall off her seat. She giggled when he caught her.

“Don’t be so neglectful,” he chastised even as his face heated.

She managed to roll her eyes, but then closed them when her head fell onto his shoulder. “Weren’t you the one telling me to push myself just now?”

“I was mistaken?”

Sakura chuckled. “You’re never mistake.”

“Of course I am. You’re obviously exhausted and your master is a brute pushing you beyond your limits. How dare he breath.”

“Maybe he should answer some of that mail that’s been piling up. Someone else seems to need your help,” she said around a yawn.

“Worthless plebs crying for attention. No, I’m much better off terrorizing you.”

She weakly reached up to poke the tip of his nose. “Silly.”

Tobirama didn’t mind how his face warmed or his is belly seemed to fill with the buds of something just as warm. He pulled her closer and carried her up to her room.

Halfway up the stairs he stopped dead in his tracks. Sakura was asleep in his arms but her pale pink hair spilled over his elbow and not even shadows could hide who she was.

“It is true.”

Tobirama hunched over her form protectively. “Don’t speak to me.”

Hashirama’s face crumpled in hurt. “Brother, how could you! You were sworn to uphold the order of the world, not defy it so shamelessly! They spoke of necromancy but I-I defended you. I-I said you would never.”

Tobirama took another four steps, stopping just one shy of his brother. The stairwell was narrow, curving up and around itself up to the higher levels. It would be impossible to pass if Hashirama didn’t step aside, but it seemed as if the elder brother had no intention of doing so.

Tobirama didn’t care if his eyes flashed with red magic at his last surviving brother. “Move, you are in my way.”

Hashirama took a single step back, giving himself more hight over Tobirama while holding up his hands. “Brother, don’t do this. You know you need to put her back. The others need not know, but the balance must me found again. She had her time.”

The image of her under glass on a stone table made his heart stab with cruel viscousness. The very idea made him tremble. “You would have me render her lifeless once more…”

His voice was a deadly calm.

Hashirama took another step back onto the landing.

“The others don’t know, I won’t tell them. I can’t bring myself to see you like this, you’re not yourself anymore, my dear brother.” Hashirama’s face was wrinkled with stress as tears pooled in the corners of his eyes. “You are my only and best brother. You’re the greatest wizard in the land and you’ve stumbled but that’s fine. Please…just…”

Hashirama fell boneless on the floor, his eyes fogged with what all the corpses had after days of being dead. His skin was taunt across his tanned face as Tobirama stepped over the body of his last and only brother.

 Stray bolts of ruby colored magic crackled across the stone. Tobirama didn’t look back as his cloak trailed over Hashirama’s lifeless body on his way to the bedrooms.

Sakura slept peacefully on in his arms, not even flinching when he kissed her eyelids in reverence. She was perfect in his arms as he followed her into bed.

“I will never let you be parted from me again,” he whispered. “Never.”

[cordytriestowrite]

Keeping Up Appearances

Bucky x Reader

Fake Dating AU

Chapter 1 - All Other Chapters

Summary: When an old friend comes back into your life you struggle to maintain the lies you've told. Bucky Barnes has no idea what he's gotten into by agreeing to be your fake boyfriend, but you have no idea what to do about the very real feelings you have for him.

Creamy white paper, thick and quality, was clutched in your calloused, unpolished fingers. You read the words again, so beautiful laying across the page in even, flowing cursive.

I'm coming home finally-

Want you to meet him-

Bring your boyfriend-

Dinner 6pm La Bernardin-

The letter read like a pen pal, which is what your friend had come to be after years of traveling around the world, but underneath the ink and faint smell of expensive perfume was the readings of a threatening ransom note; let me into your life... or else.

You took the stairs two at a time reaching the fifth floor much easier than you did when you moved in two years ago. You bypassed your own door, barely casting it a glance. You knocked frantically at the door next to yours, calling out your neighbor's name loudly.

"Sam! Sam, open up!"

Underneath your hand the door gave way. Sam stood in the open doorway, in loose sweatpants and a beer in his hand looking appropriately confused and concerned.

"Where's the fire?" He asked, half joking.

You thrust the letter into his face and barged into his apartment giving him no time to read it. You took a seat on the couch and waited for Sam to join you. He sat down gingerly on the edge of the couch cushion, eyeing you wearily.

"Remember Pepper Potts? My best friend-"

"Hey," Sam interrupted, "I thought I was your best friend."

"Best friend before I met you of course." You amended with a small smile. A comfortable heat settled into your heart at his wide, amused smile, grateful for his friendship in the years you could have felt so alone.

"Anyway, do you remember her?"

Sam's face scrunched up in concentration as he searched the recesses of his memory for a connection to the name. He came up empty and shrugged.

"She's the one who took off about three years ago to travel the world. Wanted me to go with her. I didn't because I couldn't afford it." With each sentence you cringed at the verbal admission Sam was forcing you to relive. Your voice trailed on the final word, your tongue stuck to your teeth, unwilling to say what came next. Luckily Sam's memory was ignited and there was no need to say the words out loud.

"Ohhhh." He said in a long ring of realization,

"She doesn't know-"

"Anything." You finished with a heavy sigh.

You flung your head against the back of the couch. It was silent for a beat and your eyes refused to open and face the predicament you found yourself in.

"You gonna tell her?"

You scoffed, your eyes still closed. Suddenly you felt exhausted. Your fingers traced the edge of the letter. The stationary was too thick to give you a paper cut, too smooth to catch on the ridges of your fingertips, too expensive to sit in your hands.

"Hell no."

"How are you going to keep this up?" He asked in exasperation.

"I'll figure something out but right now," you opened your eyes then and stared down at the words that sent you running up to Sam in the first place.

"Right now I need you to be my boyfriend."

If Sam had been drinking he would have done a spit take. You observed his face with annoyance as it fell slack in shock and disbelief. He reached a large hand up to rub his face and groan.

"Oh come on, it wouldn't be so bad-" you started.

"No it's not that its just- I have a date tonight."

You temporarily forgot your own dilemma. Your smile stretched wide and you lunged toward him in excitement, your palm landing on his knee and squeezing.

"You finally asked Alli out?"

"She asked me." He replied, his eyes averted and his lower lip caught between his teeth.

You settled back into the couch your eyes trained on Sam's content smile. You couldn't ask him to pretend to be your boyfriend. You couldn't do that to your best friend.

"Who's gonna be my date then?"

"You buyin'?"

You spun around and craned your neck to see over the back if the couch. Bucky stood in front of the open refrigerator door, perusing its contents. Your took in his tangled brown locks, wrinkled tshirt, and Halo printed boxers and sneered.

"Sorry Bucky you're not cut out for this date."

He turned around, unscrewing the cap off of a jug of orange juice and taking a swig. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and had the audacity to look offended.

"I clean up pretty nice. Right Sam?"

You turned to Sam eyebrow raised as if to say really?

Sam shrugged, "Do you have much of a choice at this point?"

You checked the time on your phone, 4:30. You had an hour to find someone to play the part of your boyfriend and get ready before taking to the streets. You took Bucky in one more time, eyes critical but appreciative as you admired his strong jaw, wide shoulders, and tapered hips. He had promise. If he could fake it for one night...

"Okay, okay." You surrendered finally. Meeting Sam's amused brown eyes and pulling a face.

-

If you had to assess Bucky's closet it would total out to 50% plain tshirts, 30% work shirts, 18% henley's, and 2% acceptable for a high end dinner date. You held up two button downs side by side, squinting one eye and then the other eye. Behind your raised hands stood Bucky, bored and disengaged.

"Just pick one." He said for the fourth time in five minutes.

You leveled him a stern stare and continued to evaluate your options eventually settling on the dark blue one, simply because it seemed like it would fit better.

"My best friend is meeting my boyfriend for the first time. You have to look perfect."

"I though Sam was your best friend." He said in question, working the buttons of the shirt out of their holes so he could slip it on.

"Shower first," you demanded, "and brush your hair."

He rolled his eyes and stripped off his baggy tshirt, revealing his tight stomach and rippling muscles. You busied yourself with the remaining buttons of his shirt as he sauntered to the bathroom.

You let out a breath you hadn't realized you were holding as the door to the bathroom shut. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to settle on Bucky as your fake boyfriend. It was too close to what you really wanted. For two years now you had felt like a high school girl, hanging out at your friend's house to catch glimpses of their cute older brother. You of course loved Sam and weren't just using him to be close fo Bucky, but there was a reason you hung out in their apartment more than yours.

The start of the shower jolted you from your thoughts. You set down the shirt gently on Bucky's unmade bed, smoothing the fabric as if it would gather wrinkles in the few minutes Bucky wasnt wearing it. You scurried out of his room and waved goodbye to Sam in his own room, buttoning up his own shirt for his own date, though his was a real date with someone who actually liked him that way. Quietly you closed the door of their apartment to took the three steps to your own door, unlocking it with your keys and slipping inside. You hoped you had kept at least one La Bernardin's worthy dress.

Permanent tag list is open!

@just-add-butter @instantnoodlese @bluebriid @bambamwolf87 @iabigailgarcia @dyanlzbb @sebstanhun @thoughtfullhuman @sbluehi @fanfictionrecommendations-com @spacezombiie @whovianwookie86-captainxev