#technically i never left but technically im not officially back yet

[akoumi]

hey!!! welcome back!!! if you’re still doing taglists i think i used to be on the taglist for mw&d at least (and probably others haha idk) but i’d love to still be on it if you still wanna do those!! no worries if that’s no longer ur thing i can always just turn your post notifs on or something just thought i’d shoot u an ask :))

hi!! so glad to see there’s still interest over this wip, i’ve slowly been gearing up to come back to it and it definitely helps knowing that people are still on the tag list! thanks for your ask, i’ll definitely add you!

[someh0eontheinternet]

THE RUN-AWAY AVATAR  PT1- atla characters x avatar!!reader oneshot

*thเ᥉ เ᥉ ᥲᥒ ᥲᥙ (ᥲᥣtꫀɾᥒᥲtꫀ ᥙᥒเ᥎ꫀɾ᥉ꫀ) ᥕhꫀɾꫀ ᥲᥲᥒg เ᥉ dꫀᥲd (*᥉ᥲd ƒᥲᥴꫀ*)

*ᥲᥣᥣ ᥴhᥲɾᥲᥴtꫀɾ᥉ ᥲɾꫀ ᥲgꫀd ᥙρ

*เᥒtꫀᥒtเꪮᥒᥲᥣ ᥣꪮᥕꫀɾᥴᥲ᥉ꫀ

*ƒꫀꪑᥲᥣꫀ ɾꫀᥲdꫀɾ

*𝟤.𝟩k ᥕꪮɾd᥉

ｋａｔａｒａ＇ｓ ｐｏｖ：

Art by: Herea Liana

it’s been six years since the world’s last airbender, and my very best friend aang lost his life, and i still think about it every day.

was there more I could have done?

if i had been stronger, would he still be alive?

am i the reason that the world lost humanities’ last hope?

an over-whelming sense of shame and guilt has engulfed me ever since aang was killed by firelord ozai in the invasion of the fire nation. now the entire world has spun into disarray, with the fire nation taking control of every nation.

if only i could find the new avatar. then we may have hope at restoring the balance of this world.

ｙ－ｎ＇ｓ ｐｏｖ

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you pout, crossing your arms and turning away from the little boy who was yelling in your face and chucking a tantrum.

“i just saw you move that rock-” he paused, evidently struggling to find the courage to allow the words to leave his mouth, “-WITH YOUR MIND!” he shouts, gaining the attention of all the other children nearby.

this little boy had been pestering you for weeks now, seemingly convinced that you are the one and only avatar, and it would appear that he will stop at no lengths to prove to everyone in your tribe that his ridiculous theory is correct.

“ok Tasi, as much as I’d like to stay and chat with you about how I am clearly an earthbender-” you pause to sarcastically flip your pony-tail over your shoulders, your traditional water tribe inuit hairstyle on full display, “-i must excuse myself to hurry along to my healing lessons now. bye bye Tasi, stay out of trouble now.” you mockingly wave goodbye to the annoying little kid, as he pokes out his tongue a you.

once you are far enough away, you let out a long sigh, worry starting to creep in.

“what if he really does find out the truth? i would never be able to live off the shame...”

and so you continue on, marching through the heavy snow of your icy home, off to attend your healing lessons, watched mercilessly by fire nation soldiers as they rule over your lonely tribe. 

suddenly, you catch sight of someone bleeding out on the snow...

ｓｏｋｋａ＇ｓ ｐｏｖ:

Art by: zarory

it was yet again, another boring day, with another boring job. today was patrol duty of the south-eastern section of the southern water tribe. i internally groan as i get dressed into my official uniform and head out the door.

ever since aang died, katara has been pestering me about how “ive changed” and saying she wants the “fun loveable sokka back”. i don’t know what she’s talking about. i haven’t “changed”, i’ve just grown up, theres a difference. i mean, i AM nearly 21 now. i am supposed to change as I get older...right?

i shake it off, and continue to make my way down the snowy pathways, boomerang firmly strapped to my back. as i am patrolling, i notice a group of water-tribe kids being a bit too loud over to my left.

“the fire nation soldiers won’t be happy about this...” i mumble to myself, as i hurry over there before the fire nation soldiers catch sight of them. even though im technically supposed to be harsh on anyone falling out of line, i could never turn my back on my own tribe. i must protect these kids from the wrath of the fire nation, for as long as possible!

as i get closer, i notice a beautiful woman who looked around my age getting yelled at by a little boy.

“i just saw you move that rock...WITH YOUR MIND!”

my icy blue eyes widen upon hearing this.

what is this kid on about??

suddenly, i feel a strong hand crash down on my shoulder, then a severe pain.

“aughh” i fall to my knees, groaning out of pain. i look up to see an angry fire nation soldier, hand out threateningly, still visibly red from the immense heat he just placed on my skin.

my hand reflexively shot up to my shoulder, covering the burn wound from the freezing winds around me. this burn was going to take a while to heal...

“what do you think you’re doing cadet? stop slacking off and start patrolling like a real soldier.” he begins to make his leave, only to look over his shoulder to shoot me a cold glare with his burning crimson eyes. “...stay in line, water-tribe scum.” he spits, before marching off, leaving me on the ground to stain the snow with my blood.

i sat there in the snow, hyperventilating for a few minutes, trying to manage the pain. my hatred for the fire nation seems to burn brighter with each passing day. i am so sick of my people being discriminated against and shoved in the dirt by those...animals...and being forced to sit idly by in silence. i feel like my whole identity has been replaced with pure rage.

maybe katara was right,

maybe i have changed...

i was snapped out of my thoughts by the snowy footsteps of the beautiful woman i saw before about to pass me. as she was approaching me, she suddenly catches sight of my injury, and i watch as all the colour immediately drains from her face. She frantically rushes to my side, incoherently yelling out over the wind.  

as i watch her figure get closer, i feel myself slipping in and out of consciousness.

why do i feel so dizzy all of a sudden?

“oh my god! what happened to you!? are you alright!?” she dives down beside me onto the snow, inspecting my wounds. through my haze, i can feel her soft touch trace over my muscular arm as she eagerly tries to get a better look at my wound. as her cold hands glide across my skin, my heart-rate quickens, and for some reason i feel...safe.   

“please! tell me who did this to you. sokka! SOKKA!” my eyelids suddenly become extremely heavy after she said that, the temptation of unconsciousness finally overpowering me. right before my vision fades to black, i manage to breathe out the words...

“h-how...do you know my name~~”

ｙ－ｎ＇ｓ ｐｏｖ:

“h-how...do you know my name~~” 

you sigh to yourself, shaking your head.

“he’s losing too much blood...this could be bad.” you mumble to yourself. you couldn’t tell whether you were shaking from the cold, or out of worry for this...stranger.

“wait...if he is a stranger, then how did i know his name!?” your eyes widen as this sudden realization hits you. you quickly push it to the back of your mind - your first priority was to get sokka inside and out of the snow. then you would be able to hopefully heal his wound with your water bending.

you try to lift his body but buckle under the weight. you groan in frustration, angry at yourself for not being able to carry him. You frantically look around, in hope of finding someone who looks like they could help you, but you were surrounded by nothing but snow.

you opt for dragging him, much to your dismay. you hoped that if you were quick enough, you could avoid the possibility of hypothermia.

you manage to drag him fairly quickly all the way to the healing temple, where you were scheduled to train today. you were much earlier than you thought you’d be though, as not a single soul had arrived yet, not even the instructor Katara was here yet.

you position ‘sokka’ on the healing table, and begin your work on him. as you were still in training as a healer, you were desperately trying to read the instruction scroll as well as bend the healing water around your patient’s wound. 

in your frantic state, upon reading this type of wound required heated water to execute correctly, you were just about ready to scream. you understood that heating up water manually would take upwards of ten minutes; time you simply did not have if you wanted to save this mysterious boy named ‘sokka’.

you took a moment to look around you, ensuring that no one was remotely anywhere near the vicinity, before you executed your plan.

you were going to fire bend the water.

ｓｏｋｋａ＇ｓ ｐｏｖ:

as i came to, i hear the sound of water boiling, and the pretty water-tribe girl from before standing over me.

that was when i saw it...

...the smoke coming out of her hands.

this girl was...fire bending the water!

before i could react, her hand was immediately placed over my mouth, surprisingly already back to its normal temperature, her eyes dripping in desperation.

she leans down, her face inches from mine causing my cheeks to turn red. her hair draped down, landing onto my bare chest, as i feel her warm breath on my face.

“don’t you tell a soul. this is your first and final warning sokka.” she threatens, although the intention of her words are lost by her shaky voice. she’s clearly terrified. i wasnt threatened at all.

just as i was about to bring my hand up to her cheek to wipe her tears away, i hear the angry voice of my sister coming from the doorway.

ｋａｔａｒａ＇ｓ ｐｏｖ：

i enter the healing temple, ready to prepare for my healing lesson, when i see my brother being pinned down by some mysterious girl.

“GET AWAY FROM MY BROTHER!” i yell, drawing my combat water, ready to attack.

i watch as the girl wastes no time whipping her head around to inspect the origin of the voice. i am greeted by the horrified expression of one of my healing students...

“y-n l-n!? what are you doing here!?” i begin to lower my guard, but only slightly.

“miss katara! what a surprise! um, i was just...” her voice trails off as she tries desperately to hide something behind her back.

my eyes narrow. “what is behind your back, y-n.” i say darkly, taking slow advances towards her shaking figure before me.

“u-uh...katara...i-i...” she seemed to be frozen solid, immobilized by fear. i often seem to have that effect on people...

with one quick movement, i stand mere inches from her face, sliding my hand behind the arch of her back to grab the object of her protection. however, as soon as my fingertips make contact with such object, i feel a sharp pain on my skin.

“fuck!” i immediately back away, inspecting my finger.

i was...burnt...

“h-how...how are you holding that” i hiss, pointing to the cup that she now holds in full view.

“i um...”

ｙ－ｎ＇ｓ ｐｏｖ:

fuck fuck fuck

they know, they know, they know

it’s all over - i’m a national disgrace

the run-away avatar...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

you slowly place the cup of boiling water down on a nearby table, defeat dripping from your every gesture. katara notices the all too familiar fiery glow of your palms and her expression becomes livid.

“you’re the...YOU’RE THE AVATAR!”

without warning, the far superior bender launches a series of ice attacks directed at your head. fear engulfs you as you hold your breath and close your eyes, waiting for impact...but it never came.

you slowly open your eyes to see sokka standing protectively in front of you, deflecting her attacks with his boomerang. upon seeing this, she immediately stops, not wanting to hit her brother.

“w-what are you doing sokka-”

“LEAVE HER ALONE KATARA!” Sokka interrupts, venom lacing his words. Katara’s prior worry for her brother is then visibly replaced with rage as sokka’s ridiculous order reaches her ears. the livid woman slowly approached her brother, bringing with her danger and one heck of a warning.

“step away from her, sokka! she is a traitor who left our people to die! she doesn’t deserve your protection!!” katara stared down her brother, making her superior combat ability known. sokka swallowed.

“you dont understand katara. y-n saved my life! a fire nation solider left me to bleed out on the snow, but y-n brought me here and healed me. if it wasn’t for her fire bending, id be a corpse in the snow right now!” 

katara seemed shocked to hear this. “you...y-you nearly died?” she appeared to have all the breath taken out of her. 

sokka only silently nodded, causing a single tear to run down katara’s cheek.

“ok well, in that case, i guess its worth hearing what she has to say.” katara said steadily, regaining her composure.

you sigh in relief, as sokka guides you over to a stool, where the three of you all sit in a circle. silence. a long eerie silence between the three of you causes the tension in the room to grow thick, making you swallow. no one really knew where to begin. the realization was finally sinking in that the avatar has returned, and the two water-tribe siblings could barely believe their eyes. katara was the first one to break the silence.

“so first tings first, wanna explain to us how you’re not a six year old?” 

“w-what!?” you squeak.

sokka gasps. “omg yeah, you’re right katara! this makes no sense”

“uhh, am i missing something??” you frown, confused.

“well, it would seem ill have to spell it out for you, miss avatar.” katara sighs. “aang died 6 years ago. so following the rule of re-birth, you should have been an infant 6 years ago. may i ask how old you are now, y-n?”

“uhh, nearly 20.”

“...how peculiar.” katara eyes you closely, deep in thought.

“yeah! that’s so totally peck-iler” sokka chirps gleefully.

“peculiar.” you slyly correct his pronunciation, flashing him one of your signiture smirks.

“glad to see you’re back to your idiot self sokka? did something change to make you more...uh how do you put it...more sokka-ry” katara shifts her eyes from you to him, much to your relief. she couldn’t help but think that his cheery demeanor was a result of meeting you.

“what do you mean, im always like this.” sokka says confused, as he tried to balance his boomerang on his nose like a baby seal.

“stop that!” katara growls, splashing water on his face, leaving his hair drenched. you began to laugh at sokka, he looked so stupid right now with his hair down and that pouty expression.

“something funny y-n? don’t forget the trouble you’re in right-now

and with that you were brought back to reality with a bang. 

“when did you first notice you could bend the other elements.” katara insisted, leaning forward in her seat, her aura causing you to flinch.

“well, i’ve always been a waterbender. but when i was 14 i had this big fight with my mum and i went outside for a jog to cool off. i ended up getting lost for the night, and found shelter in a cave overlooking the ocean. i was freezing, and then suddenly i felt my hands become increasingly hotter. i looked down and noticed they were on fire. quite the surprise, as you can imagine.” you feeblishly laughed, re-living old memories.

sokka was practically on the edge of his seat, eager to hear the rest of your story. you also took note of katara’s persona. she seemed just as intrigued as sokka, but perhaps was better at hiding it. you took this as your cue to continue. 

“once i discovered i could fire bend, i tried out the other elements as well.

the eager siblings leaned forward in their stools, eager to know if you’ve mastered all the elements yet or not.

“...child’s play”

sokka sighed in relief, but katara wasn’t as convinced.

“prove it”

“what” you asked, slightly insulted by her skepticism.

“i said...” she stood up and began advancing towards you, making you shiver. she placed her long slender fingers beneath your chin and lifted it to face her at her standing position. she leaned in close to your face, lips almost touching, as she slyly smirked, making your whole face go red.

“...prove it.” she whispered in your ear, her breath running down your neck, giving you goosebumps. 

𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙪𝙚𝙙...

𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚍𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚜. <𝟹 𝚒 𝚍𝚘 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚙𝚝 𝟷 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 "𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚞𝚗-𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚛" 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎��. 𝚒 𝚍𝚘 𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚛𝚜, 𝚒 𝚍𝚘 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐. ;𝙿

𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚙𝚝 𝟸, 𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚢. 🌼🌹🌺🌷💕🌈🌸

[wheelsup]

the taming of the shrew | two

if i be waspish, best beware my sting

after some setbacks, penelope is willing to do anything to get you back on board. but has spencer already ruined things?

A/N: hello! im so sorry that this posting schedule is super inconsistent. the more i thought about this chapter, the less i liked the more technical aspects of it. but! i hope you enjoy to plot aspect of it nonetheless <3 thanks for reading!

category: fluff, slow burn series, spencer reid x fem!reader

wc: 4.4k

<- prev | next ->

Since that phone call with Penelope, she’d been over nearly every night for a week with plates of treats and onslaughts of apologies. Each time she came knocking, you told her there was no amount of persuasion that could change your mind. And yet the following night, she’d be there, a new type of pastry in hand and a new set of reasons why Spencer was worth the trouble.

First, she brought blueberry muffins and reasoned that deep below that prickly exterior, he really was everything she promised –– sweet and caring. But that must be deep, deep down. Like, The Lost City of Atlantis, deep down, because you didn’t expect it to surface any time soon. 

Then, she brought fudge brownies and explained that his behavior wasn’t personal –– he was getting snippy with everyone lately. And while you maintained that anybody would have a hard time getting along with Spencer, you were absolutely positive that it was now impossible for you. 

Quite frankly, it wasn’t just Spencer who was unwilling to play nice. You hated him. More than you’ve ever hated a stranger. 

You wished him a lifetime riddled with minor inconveniences that would drive him to the edge of insanity. You wanted him to miss all his trains by just a quarter of a minute; close enough so that he could see it leave the platform, knowing he almost made it on. You wanted him to constantly feel like he was about to sneeze. You wanted his socks to be perpetually wet, and if he should happen to put on a dry pair? You hoped he stepped in a puddle.

That was all you could think about as you laid out on your couch, munching on one of Penelope’s lemon bars while she paced around your apartment. She kept going on and on advertising Spencer to you. As annoying as it was, she was also saving you a ton on groceries that week. 

For the most part, you filtered her out. Not a single word that came out of her mouth was believable anymore, especially not when she was talking about Spencer. Despite what Penelope thought of him, you saw in him what she refused to accept. 

As her speech came to a close, she looked at you like she expected a response to dignify her prattling. 

“Give it a rest, Penelope. He’s a lost cause,” you laughed dryly. “He doesn’t need –– nor does he want –– anyone in his life.” At the very least, he definitely didn’t want you. 

“Yes, that’s the problem!” If you’d been listening to her, you would’ve heard her saying the same thing. “He doesn’t want to date!” 

Your head just about exploded when she said that. 

There had been countless, fruitless conversations about this, and all along she saw the gaping hole in her supposedly airtight plan?

“If he doesn’t want to DATE, then WHAT was the point of this?!” Your fingers pressed the bridge of your nose; you suddenly felt a headache coming on. Funny how it always happened around the time of day that Penelope came to visit.

Penelope stopped pacing. She stalked over to your couch, picked your legs up by your ankle, and moved them to make space for herself. You begrudgingly sat upright as she took her place beside you. 

“Because he’s not himself anymore. He’s not open like he used to be. Not to the people who care about him the most, and certainly not to the world.”  

Penelope toyed with the hem of her dress, distracting herself from her quivering lip before pressing on, “Spencer Reid has always wanted love. And it’s not right that he no longer believes he can have it.” 

You hadn’t seen Penelope look so desperate until now. It was concerning. Because what could make her look so hopeless? What could make Spencer so hopeless? 

“Penelope, I don’t know what’s wrong with your little friend, but… there’s a lot more bubbling inside him than you’re letting on.” 

She chewed up the insides of her cheeks, wincing to herself at your incredibly accurate claim. 

“You are hiding something, aren’t you?” You narrowed your eyes on her. You were no detective, or whatever exactly her team did, but she was just awful at concealing her thoughts.

“It’s not my story to tell,” she murmured. 

She could already feel herself about to give it away and doubled down her mental defenses against it. Focusing extra hard on keeping Spencer’s privacy intact. If only you knew her track record with secrets, you’d be proud of her for staying quiet this long.

“What isn’t your story?” 

“That his girlfriend died last year.” 

She spilled it before she even realized what she was saying. You’d just asked so nonchalantly that she forgot she was talking aloud. Penelope turned purple, terrified now that the whole truth was out there. 

You couldn’t even take satisfaction in the fact that your trick worked. You were just as mortified as Penelope, and if you weren’t already sitting down, you knew you’d need to. You assumed there was something deeper going on with him, you didn’t think it was a dead girlfriend. That was some Nicholas Sparks shit. 

“He pretends like he’s fine but I know he’s not. And if he found a way to move on, maybe he’d start feeling as okay as he claims to be,” she sniffled before snot could run from her nose, tears lining the rims of her eyes. “I know I should’ve given you the full picture, but I didn’t think you’d go for it if you knew…” 

You were too floored to process it all right away. This added a whole new layer of complicated to an already uneasy arrangement.

“Well, I know you’re right about one thing. I would’ve said no.” 

She gave you a set of pleading eyes, praying you’d see where she was coming from. 

“I know,” she whispered defeatedly. “But maybe... now that you know, you can understand why he acts out the way he does.”

“Penelope, I can’t just… make someone move on, or –– or get them to believe in love! Especially when it’s fake.”

How on Earth did she expect you to pull that off? Did that guy from A Walk to Remember move on when Mandy Moore died? You hadn’t seen the ending of the movie, but you assumed not. 

“I’m sorry, this is just… a lot bigger than the favor I thought it was ––”

“What if I could return it?” she cut in. The gears in her head started to turn, figuring ways to patch up the holes she made. 

“There’s nothing I need from you.” 

That couldn’t be true. Penelope looked around the room and it didn’t take her long to think of it.

“I can help you sell your art,” she tempted, gesturing to the scattered canvases. “You make all your income from this, right?” 

You didn’t want to give any fuel to her fire, but you nodded. “What if… what if you didn’t have to settle for local buyers? What if I told you that you could make way more money selling them to the whole world?”

You chortled at her idea. 

You were a local artist, through and through. Your art got put in local galleries and sold to local buyers. Nothing more, and that was fine with you. You realized it a long time ago that it was just a pipe dream to think you’d be more. 

“I’m serious! You could get a separate painting studio, and stop living in one? Huh?” She wrapped her hand around your shoulder, waving the other in the air, urging you to picture it with her. “Imagine this: a kitchen that’s separate from your living room. A bed, inside it’s own four walls, and more than twelve feet from where you cook your meals.”

Pushing aside her so blatantly insulting your apartment, if that were a possibility, you’d want nothing more. But it already sounded foolish and you hadn’t even heard how she planned to pull it off. 

“Penelope, I’m fine where I am. I make the money I need, and that’s... it’s fine.”

She gave you a pointed look. “You know, I can hack all search engine results to make sure you are what comes up first anytime someone enters the word ‘painting’, right?

An airy chuckle left your lips. Of course she could. You patted her thigh twice and stood up, prompting her to follow you to your door –– hopefully, so she can show herself to the other side of it. “Still no, Pen.” 

“Just take some time to think about it!” Her voice carried through the wood as you shut it on her.

*

There was this one bench in Kenilworth Park – the one that overlooks the crystal clear pond – that you’d always been able to rely on to fix any problem.

There was hidden magic in the bushes that sprawled out from the edges of the water, surrounded by spiky green blades of overgrown grass. A simplicity you loved in baby ducklings paddling into the tiny body of water, swimming close together so they don’t get lost in, what seems to them, a whole ocean. And clarity provided by the freshest air in the world, under the shade of the big oak trees on a late summer afternoon.

But at the present, none of that came close to being enough.

The artist’s block started off as a minor inconvenience, but without your permission, had stretched into weeks of steadily declining motivation. Each new idea felt even worse than the last, and you were acutely aware that there would come a point where you’d officially hit maximum capacity for how awful they could get.

Still, that didn’t seem to light a fire under you. You happily coexisted with the blank pages of your sketchbook. Staring down at them, laying open on your lap in their stark-white glory, you felt like you were playing a waiting game. If you stared long and hard enough, maybe they’d flinch. 

Unfortunately, you never got to find out who won, because your phone rang inside your pocket. As if the caller had interrupted an incredible genius at work (which couldn’t be farther from the truth), you hastily raised the phone to your ear, slamming your sketchbook shut.

“Hello?” Your voice wasn’t as kind as it could be for someone with nothing better to be doing. Two seconds later, you learned who was calling and came to regret it.

“Hi, This is Rebecca from District Arts, calling with a message from Andre ––”

“Oh, hi!” you tried to walk back your previous tone, straightening up in your seat and pitching your voice higher, “Yeah, I’ve been waiting to hear from him!” 

While Rebecca intimidated you, Andre happened to be your closest friend at the gallery. He worked closely with the artists to curate their collection and help them make sales. 

“Does he want to sort out what to set the opening bid prices at for my new pieces?” A handful of days ago, you sent him pictures of your new work and were waiting to hear his thoughts. You’d always been able to trust his opinion, and a vote of confidence from him might be just the thing to inspire you.

“Uhm…” There was a criminally long pause on the other side of the line, ended by Rebecca’s weary inhale. “Unfortunately, we’re calling to inform you that your pieces will not be included in the next rotation.”

For a minute, you weren’t sure what to make of what she said. You’d never heard those words before.

“What – what do you mean?” you laughed nervously. She probably misspoke. Perks of friendship aside, Andre always included you in sets. 

“Ugh, let me just get him…” her voice faded away as she put the phone down. 

That wasn’t exactly the reassuring statement you were looking for. In the time it took for the call to switch hands, your confusion finally melted in. And then quickly boiled into anger.

The District Arts gallery changed their entire collection every two months. The pieces shown accepted rolling bids throughout the full eight weeks, finally selling at the end of term to their highest offer. After that, the pieces got taken down, sent to happy new owners, and the entire gallery reset with entirely new works. 

So if you missed one rotation, that meant waiting two months to get back in.

“Andre, how am I just cut from the gallery!” you barked before he could get a word in. If he didn’t like your work, he could’ve just said so. 

“No one said that ––”

“Okay, let me rephrase.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, something you found yourself doing quite frequently lately, and took a deep breath in and out. It was seemingly just for show because it did absolutely nothing to calm you down. “Why wouldn’t you put me in the next set? I’m in all of them!”

“I know you are!” He sounded just as upset. “It’s just that… we give you the biggest space we have, because you always manage to fill it up. But this time… I’m not so sure you can.”

“That’s ridiculous,” you scoffed. “What makes you say that?” You asked that, but you knew.

“You’ve only finished three pieces… I’m worried how you’ll deliver seven more before we set up.”

“But… it’s four weeks away, I could do ––”

“And it took you four weeks to make what you have... I’m sorry. We couldn’t take that gamble.” 

He took your silence as an opportunity to turn off the work talk and speak, just friend to friend. 

“You know that I trust you and I’d hold that spot if I could. But, I also know what you’re going through right now, and… I don’t know, maybe letting yourself rest would be a good thing?” 

Your heart paused. By, “knowing what you’re going through”, you assumed he didn’t mean the little artist’s block.

“If you’re implying that I can’t do my job because of what happened with Cyrus –”

“I’m not, I’m not....” he backtracked as quickly as he could. “But take another look at the paintings you showed me and tell me if they feel like you.”

Even if he was right, you wanted to fight him. You wanted to cry. You wanted to beg that you didn’t need that big space; you were willing to downsize and just turn in the three that you had. Even if they got shoved into the corner where hardly anybody bothered to look. You just couldn’t afford to go two months without the income. 

But even with tears beading up, you realized that the gallery couldn’t afford it either. They needed to bring in money and you couldn’t do that for them this time. So they were right to go to someone who can.

“Right,” you sniffled, recollecting yourself so he can’t hear the shakiness in your voice. “I understand. It’s a big risk, like you said… It’s for the better.”

Andre tried to thank you for being understanding and spewed some sort of encouragement. The words flew over your head. You managed to toss in a few ‘mhmm’s and ‘sure’s at the right places to coast you along until the call finally ended. 

As soon as it went dead, you dropped your phone to the side and brought your hands to your face, rubbing them furiously over your cheeks. Your fingertips pressed hard into your eyelids, trying to forcibly reabsorb the tears threatening to spill. 

It almost worked, until you tried to breathe. 

A full sob escaped in that one gulp of air and you succumbed to it. But the loud crunching noise of some pedestrian walking over the falling leaves destroyed your sense of privacy, and you quickly wiped away all signs of your breakdown. The crunching stopped just short of your bench and on instinct you flicked your eyes up to see who the intruder was.

You did a double take. It was him. That fucking asshole.

He was standing there, looking dumber than you could even remember, with his hands in his coat pockets and a curious look on his face as he watched you cry. Tucking your sketchbook under your arm in haste, you made it a point to stand up with as much aggression as possible, rolling your eyes at him.

“Don’t worry, I’m leaving,” you barked. “No need to yell at me this time.”

You bristled past him, barely refraining yourself from checking his shoulder as payback. You wanted to believe you were better than him, but it did sound incredibly tempting. He stood there for a moment before turning on his heel and following you.

“Wait,” he groaned.

You didn’t listen, neither stopping nor slowing down.

“I said wait,” he huffed as he caught up to you, popping up at your side and jogging along as you kept going.

“Yeah, because I need to listen to a guy who yells at strangers in bookstores.” 

Now that you’d brought up the elephant in the room, your feet started moving even faster, working double time to get you away from him.

Damn the fact that he had those long legs. He didn’t even break a sweat trying to keep up. He was inescapable.

“Well, if you waited like I asked, you would’ve gotten an apology for the ––”

“Gee, thanks!” you yelled, stopping for only a second to turn to him and give him a mocking bow of your head, hands clasped together like you were praising at his altar. “I was waiting with bated breath for that! Thank you, kind sir, for now my life can go on.”

“Look, I’m actually sorry,” he snapped. Then in realizing the irony, softened his voice, “I’m sorry for being rude. I was having a bad day… not that that’s an excuse.”

You stared at him blankly, just watching his mouth moving quickly and waiting until it finally stopped. 

“Did you need something?” 

“Did you… did you not hear what I just said?!” 

“No, sorry,” you smiled, voice sweet like sugar. “My ears filter bullshit. Wanna try again?”

He scoffed, looking away like he couldn’t believe you before stepping even closer. “What’s your problem?”

“Me!? The fuck –– what the fuck is your problem?” You turned and stormed off again, seething at his audacity. Spencer just couldn’t relent his annoying tendencies and followed yet again.

“My problem is that I’m trying to be nice, and you’re not letting me!”

You got a good, hard laugh out of that. “Okay, first of all, having to apologize for yelling at me and pushing me isn’t exactly the best starting point for the journey of becoming a nice person.”

“Like I said, I was having a bad day.” 

Under your breath, you muttered, “Well, I hope this one’s even worse.”

“Why are you such a ––” He stopped himself from finishing that thought. Even in his worst mood, he wouldn’t cross that line. 

But he didn’t need to finish it, you knew exactly where he wanted to take it. The soles of your shoes scraped against the loose gravel as you came to a grinding halt, ears ringing.

“A what?” You turned to face him, a sarcastic smile on your face growing wider as he started to shrink more and more. You got up close in his face, daring him to say what he really wanted to. So he could reinforce your belief in exactly the type of person he was. “A what?” 

Spencer pursed his lips and shook his head, refusing to say it no matter how much you challenged him. If he wasn’t going to have the balls to say it, you decided to take it upon yourself.

“Tell you what, you keep thinking about it and get back to me the next time you’re in a cunty mood.” 

The word he was thinking of was probably not as bad, but you had a habit of escalating things. Even if you took this one too far, you didn’t care. 

Before you tried to take off again, Spencer’s hand flew to your elbow. He tugged you back, forcing you to turn around and face him. He didn’t know his own strength; without any resistance, you came stumbling into his chest, at risk of falling over if it weren’t for his tight grip on your arm.

It took you a beat to push him away with both your hands on his chest, vocalizing your disgust for being so close to him. 

“Can you stop trying to disagree with me for a second? I’m trying to tell you that you’re right, I was being a… well, you know…” He avoided the word. Apparently ‘cunt’ was where he drew the line. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve it.” 

Your nostrils were still flared and blood hot as ever, but he made you pause. He looked sincere, if not a little tinged with guilt as well. You were suspicious of it.

“You saw me crying and felt bad, didn’t you?”

He laughed darkly. “Well, I saw you, yes. Did I feel bad? No.” 

“Oh, my God,” you growled, berating yourself for getting close to believing he might be capable of decency. 

“I’m joking! I’m joking.” He squeezed your elbow twice in earnest. “I did feel bad, but that’s not why I wanted to say it.”

“Okay.” You weren’t ready to give him a real smile, so you flattened your lips into a thin line and nodded once slowly, and left it at that. 

You still weren’t a fan, but the apology did dampen some of the resentment. Maybe he wasn’t the worst person alive. You’d settle for saying top ten most annoying, instead.

Minutes later, you came to the startling realization that he was still on the path, just two paces behind you. You flinched when you saw him out of the corner of your eye, not expecting him to still be here. 

“Uhm. Where are you… why are you still following me?” 

“I’m not. My car’s that way,” he gestured to the parking lot at the end of the long walkway. “I forgot my loaf for the ducks.” He didn’t mean to offer that information up, it just slipped out. He could practically see your smug expression coming before it even got there.

“You’re not supposed to feed bread to the ducks. It’s bad for them.”

“I don’t.” He didn’t care to explain this to you, but he couldn’t have you thinking he was any less competent than he really was. “It’s a special bread made from water and seeds that were ground into flour. It’s duck-safe.” 

“They make duck-safe bread?” Now that was something you’d never heard before. 

“No… I make duck-safe bread,” he said softly under his breath. 

You didn’t know how else you were supposed to react to that besides laughing wildly. 

“You make it?” He nodded like you were the crazy one here. As if he wasn’t the one spending his spare time grinding up seeds and baking loaves of bread for ducks, donning a frilly pink apron and oven mitts as he did so. At least that’s how you imagined it. “Why not just feed them the seeds?”

“Because, loose seeds will sink in the water and can potentially clog waterbeds and cause foreign bacteria growth in the pond.” 

“So you… hand-make the seeds into a little loaf of bread so it doesn't do that?”

He confirmed. You pondered silently for a moment, then absolutely had to ask, “You ever eaten the duck bread before?”

Spencer was caught off guard by that question. His cheeks deepened to a rosy color.

“Yeah, well, it was the house so…” he laughed nervously and stared at his sneakers. “It’s actually not too bad.”

You weren’t entirely surprised by that. You remembered what his grocery basket looked like, and given those same options, you probably would’ve tried the duck bread too. Still, you cracked the smallest of grins at knowing he makes bread for ducks. The one, sole redeeming fact you’ve learned about Spencer. 

You reached your car first, and Spencer stopped in front of it with you. 

“I’m actually sorry, you know,” he whispered once more, hand resting at the top of your car door as you opened it. He wasn’t talking about the incident at the bookstore.

“Yeah…” For a while you were so busy being angry at Spencer that you forgot about your own problems. 

He noticed your nose was still red around the edges, eyes still a little bleary. “Are you okay, by the way?” His voice was too soft, too genuine.

You shook your head no.

“Is there anything I can do?” You shook your head again. And then you had an awful thought.

You knew he was just offering to help just to say it, because that’s how people react when you say you’re not okay even if they don’t care. But there actually was something he could do for you… Something that Penelope could do.

“Uh, no but…” you fixed your hair and tucked it behind your ear, seamlessly switching to a flirtier voice. “If you still feel bad about the other day, you’re welcome to make it up to me.”

Spencer cocked his head to the side, unsure of how he could do that. 

“Hang out with me sometime.”

“H-hang out?” You could tell that it flustered him, even if he tried to play it off. He swallowed thickly, nose twitching and brows scrunched together.

“Relax, I really do just mean hang out.” You were lying through your teeth. He didn’t need to know that. 

As if he didn’t want to think about it for a second longer and just get out of this conversation as quickly as possible, he agreed without thinking it through. He didn’t even ask why an almost complete stranger would want to hang out with him. 

You stuck your hand out, expecting him to hand over his cell so you could put your contact into it. He rocked on the balls of his feet, watching as you input your contact and sent yourself a text on his phone.

“Hi, this is…” you read out your message as you typed, pausing at just the right place. “What’s your name by the way?”

“Oh-uh, I’m Spencer.” 

A devilish grin took over your face, hidden from his view while you were looking down at the screen. He was going to be easy to fool.

-

-

agh! im still not in love with how this chapter is turning out, but it came to a point where i just had to stop fiddling with it and just post it. any feedback or comments about this story is very much appreciated 💕

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[yesimwriting]

Crossing lines

General Kirigan/the darkling x reader

Summary: This was requested by my friend @vvsdiamond28 who also writes and has a really good kirigan x reader story up right now! The request was basically for a fic in which the reader is out wandering at night and runs into kirigan while he’s in the banya and then they get to talking and some other stuff before he admits to only trusting the reader and giving her his real name. This gets kinda steamy bc of the request and bc the story called for it lol but it’s not full smut bc i decided that it would be better to do that as a part 2 so that i could add some jealousy tension haha

a/n i think im back?? Ive been working on requests a lot and ive really enjoyed writing regularly again. A small side note, after rewatching revenge of the sith im kinda in the mood to try writing an anakin fic 😭 pls he was my OG fictional crush,, so either send help or a request for him or something, Anyways,, back to this fic--ahh i had fun writing it but i still feel awkward writing steamier stuff so be nice!! 

-- 

Those that wander in the night, lost in uneasy thought--there’s probably a lot that can be said about them. But I can’t think of anything to be said about me. Nothing good comes from walking around a place full of powerful and tense people in the middle of the night. It wouldn’t take much effort to interpret my actions as suspicious, and yet I continue forward. I’m an idiot--just because I can’t sleep doesn’t mean I have to wander around campgrounds. My presence is barely tolerated here, I shouldn’t try backstroking in waters I can barely tread. 

But still, I walk, eyes more fixated on the open night sky than anything else. The moon is as full as an overflowing glass, the stars twinkling as if desperate to compete with a light it will never be able to duplicate. I sigh, pressing my lips together. Maybe the stars and I have more in common than I thought. Normally, that would be a good thing. 

Letting out a weary breath, I continue forward, away from the relative safety of the main tents. I’m still on the grounds, I’m approaching the border where the tents of higher ranking officials are. That should make me more nervous, but if anything it almost eases me slightly. 

General Kirigan is not the type to be friendly, and yet our interactions have always been laced with a touch of intimacy I can’t quite explain. We’ve been alone together more and more frequently, and I think that’s how I like him best. It’s strange, but when we’re alone some of his sharpness dulls, leaving space for something I might consider humor or actual personality on anyone else. He probably speaks to many girls like that when they’re alone together--a fact I have to fight to remind myself of--but it’s the closest thing to friendship I have here. Maybe it’s foolish to hold onto that, but I can’t bring myself to release my grip on those sentiments. At least not yet, when the kind moments are still rare and fleeting and no line has been crossed. 

The danger, however, comes from the prospect of not recognizing lines before they’re crossed. Even now, as I walk aimlessly in the night, pacing in hopes of exhausting my thoughts, I’m crossing lines in a much more literal way and even these are ill defined. I must be in new territory now, and even that I can only vaguely recognize because of the strangely humid scent that surrounds this area of the grounds. 

I’m near the banya. I didn’t intend to wander here, but the thought of splashing water on my face is too tempting to pass up on. I move closer, finding a sense of peace in having some direction, even in a small way. 

When the promise of water is only steps away, I begin to regret everything. There’s a figure in the bath. I freeze, ready to attempt to shrink away in hopes of disappearing before I’m caught. This could easily turn extremely awkward even though I technically haven’t done anything. Most people don’t bathe at this hour. Who bathes this late at night? 

I keep my eyes on the individual, trying to make out who they are and how aware they are of their surroundings in the dim light. Pale skin, dark hair--unbelievably attractive torso. My eyes linger there longer than they should. I force my gaze upwards, towards their face as if that can erase my ogling. Embarrassment leaves my face burning--I’m not the ‘ogling’ type, and this person doesn’t even know I’m here. I keep my eyes on them as I step back, taking in unaware features as best I can in the dark. 

I know them--I--Saints, it’s Kirigan. 

Fantastic. Of course he has to be even more impossibly attractive while shirtless and wet. I turn my head upwards sharply, more desperate to not be caught than ever. I would never, ever recover from being caught. Whether he’d tease me or be angry with me, I don’t know. I also don’t know which option I’d prefer. 

I step back again, my gait wider due to my urgency. Snap. The sound of both a twig and my chance of a stealthy escape being shattered. I cringe, craning my neck to the left in a desperate attempt to make it clear that I wasn’t watching him. I take another desperate step, ready to duck behind a nearby tree. Maybe he hasn’t seen me--maybe he’s distracted and assumed that some kind of rabbit or something passed by. He may not actively dislike me, but I’m not sure any semblance of favor he may have for me extends to this situation.

“Y/n.” His tone reveals nothing but his level of certainty. Ignoring him will only make me seem guilty. 

I pause, keeping my gaze off of him. “Yes.” It wasn’t really a question, and yet I still answer it like one. “I was--I couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d get some air, and I was walking kind of aimlessly and I ended up here and I didn’t think anyone would be here.” Why do I feel like I’m making this situation worse? “I’m sorry--I’m gonna--I’m going to go now.” This is the kind of embarrassing moment that will come back to me when I’m trying to fall asleep at night. I know it.

“You know the polite thing to do after intruding is to make eye contact.” 

I don’t think my face has ever felt this warm before. At least he doesn’t sound angry, but his voice doesn’t reveal that much. I raise my gaze carefully, turning my head slowly. “I didn’t mean,” I exhale slowly, “It wasn’t my intention to intrude.” 

He straightens slightly at my words, exposing more of his chest. I stay still, eyes trained on his to avoid an accidental lapse. “You could make it up to me by offering conversation.” Kirigan’s tone is deliberate, his words measured and calm. I don’t speak, feeling like I’m being presented a test I don’t understand, but most of our conversations leave me feeling like that. “Only if you’re comfortable.” 

And just like that, I’m backed into a corner. A challenge. To deny him now would be to expose the effect he has on me. My chin raises a fraction of an inch as I take in that assured half-smirk. “Why wouldn’t I be comfortable?” 

Kirigan arches a dark brow, assessing my response. “Then sit,” his voice has not changed, “You want air and I want company.” 

I don’t think anyone that looks as good as he does shirtless has ever had trouble finding company, especially with the smooth way he speaks. Despite this, I step forward to accept his challenge without calling him out on his coyness. Each step is the crossing of another invisible line until I’m near the water’s edge. I make sure to keep my nightgown at a respectable length as I sit down. 

I make a point of extending my legs towards the water while leaning back so that I can’t be easily accused of being a coward. “I feel the need to warn you that I might not make particularly interesting company.”

He angles his head to the side slightly, drawing attention to his jawline and neck. I force my stare to focus on the water. “I’ve never found you uninteresting.” 

There’s something resigned in the way he says this. On instinct, I look up, taking in the slight softening of his features. The release of his usual sternness only adds to his beauty, a fact that I’m already resenting. 

“You may be the only one.” It’s not meant to be a deprecating comment, but I’m not sure my partial laugh softens my bitterness. I hope it does--I’d rather his interest than the interest of my entire unit. 

Kirigan shifts forward, the water moving with him. “Do you think that any coldness you’re experiencing has to do with you?” 

The question has me drawing my eyebrows together. What else could it be? I shrug, “I’ve considered it.” 

He nods once, eyes hardening slightly. “Do you always have trouble sleeping?” 

The personalness of the question shouldn’t surprise me as much as it does. Kirigan seems to only understand boundaries when he’s the one setting them. “Not really.” A partial lie--this time I’m glad I can’t quite bring myself to look at him. “It’s not uncommon for me, but it’s not something I deal with every night.” 

I risk shifting my eyeline when I hear the sound of water moving. Kirigan’s now resting an arm on the rim of the pool, wet skin dangerously close to my ankle and lower calf. “It’s not always easy,” his voice is low now, “Being alone with your thoughts.” 

That’s not the kind of reply I’d expect from him. I blink twice before turning to study his expression. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him seem so tired--so weary and human and in need of something. The line between his eyebrows and the far off quality of his eyes leave me with the strong desire to give whatever it is he needs to him. The urge to reach out, to touch him in hopes of breaking him free from his odd trance leaves my stomach knotted. That line is too clear to cross so recklessly.

I need to chase away the serious atmosphere he’s created. “Is that why you bathe so late at night?” I let myself smile, “To avoid thoughts?” 

“I like the peace of it.” Something akin to amusement touches his words. “And for the record, little dove,” the nickname is pointed and earns him an eyeroll, “The warm water doesn’t exactly chase away thoughts so much as encourages others.” He pauses. “You understand, considering you can barely look at me.”

This is the most embarrassing thing to have ever happened. The suggestive jilt to his words has to be intentional. Damn him. I turn my head, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “I can look at you just fine.” 

“And if I were a Heartrender and could hear your heartbeat your pulse would be normal?” The question is teasing, a small smile pulling at his lips. 

The warmth in my face increases, spreading down my neck. Kirigan’s expression remains smug. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.” 

“No?” He leans forward, angling his head so close to me I can faintly feel the warmth of his breath on my lower calf. “I find myself amusing.” 

At least being around him like this is getting easier. I open my mouth, ready to provide some sarcastic comment I haven’t thought out yet. My mouth clamps shut on instinct when I feel his touch on my ankle. The faint contact quickly grows, his fingers brushing up my ankle and calf, leaving drops of cool water across my skin.

“What are you doing?” That’s a--a fair question, right? I’m not sure, rational thought slipping from me more and more with each passing second. 

“Nothing, really,” his reply is quick. “Nervous?” 

There is no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing. I roll my eyes, fighting against my instinctual fluster. “No,” a full lie, “You’re just getting me wet.” 

“Barely.” When he’s not busy being brooding he’s not much better than an irritating child. He retracts his hand slowly, fingers grazing my skin slowly as he submerges his hand beneath the water. The loss of contact should feel like a victory. It doesn’t. “Y/n,” he shifts closer, back straightening.

There’s an odd seriousness to his demeanor that almost leaves me reeling. “Yes?” 

He beckons me forward. I hesitate, but comply, letting myself shift closer to the water’s edge. Kirgan’s lips part, but no words leave him before he moves his arm, purposefully splashing water over my thighs and bottom of my nightgown. I let out an instinctively annoyed sound. “That is getting you wet.” 

“Kirigan!” My tone is as menacing as I can make it, but he continues to grin. There’s such a lightness to the look I almost forget to be annoyed. Almost. “I should tell the entire Second Army how much of a child you are.” 

My threat does nothing, his smile softening without fading. “They fear me too much for your stories to make a difference.” He says this flatly. “All of them except you.” 

I don’t know if I’m supposed to make something of that comment. A brief moment passes in which I think his eyes come close to softening. Maybe that’s a side effect of seeing the world as you want. Wait...what do I want? Him? No, no, I can’t. 

Okay, he’s objectively attractive and sometimes I think I may see more depth in him than he wants to be capable of. But that doesn’t mean I’m allowed to want anything with him. Even if he was trustworthy enough for me to be with him in any capacity...even casually, it could never happen. Nothing good could come from having relations with the highest ranked general and I doubt he’d ever want me like that. He likes to fluster people and I’m an easy target. I just accept it because being some level of entertainment to him is better than being nothing to everyone. 

“I don’t think there’s much point in fear.” It feels like a fair answer. The fairest answer I can manage, anyways. 

He sighs, the sound heavy. His hand stretches forward cautiously. I watch him and make no attempt to stop him from touching my lower calf. His fingers trace absentmindedly across the skin. “Of course you’d think that.” 

Again, I don’t know what to make of his words. Or his actions. He couldn’t find anything wrong with me just slightly adjusting my position. It’d be a polite way to remind us both of the natural order of things. But then again, someone like him is allowed to be mad about anything. And I’m not sure I want to remind us of our place. 

Actually, I’m completely sure that I want the opposite of that. But admitting that to myself is enough of a risk. I’ve already crossed thousands of tiny lines and what I want will require us to cross a thousand more. 

“I’m a little surprised you’re not reminding me how foolish a notion like that can be.” 

He lets out a tiny breath as he shifts even closer to me. “Maybe I’m enjoying your foolishness.” 

“I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or the opposite.” 

The slightest hint of a smile is visible to me beneath the moon’s glow. There’s something about darkness that adds beauty to things. I wait for him to reply, but instead of speaking his  hand moves further up my leg. I struggle to hide my reaction to his long fingers trailing up my skin.

He’s touched me before, sure. Tiny moments in which he’d push a strand of hair out of my face or wipe at a bit of dirt on my cheekbone. More recently, he had gripped my hip firmly to guide me through a crowd of soldiers. He had been in a hurry, stealing me from a conversation with the only member of my unit that’s been somewhat friendly to me. It wasn’t serious--he had just been rushing me because he only had a minute between meetings and apparently he had too long of a day to not take a moment to speak with me. 

“Are you alright, Dovey?” Normally, the nickname and all of its variations earns him an eyeroll. But everything is a lot less humorous with his hand half up my lower leg, leaving a trail of cool water wherever he touches. 

His fingers press more firmly into my skin. “Yes, I’m fine--it’s just late.” 

“Hm…” Kirigan breathes before tilting his head slightly. “You’re warm.” I stay silent as his hand shifts slightly. “Perhaps too warm.” 

If I’m hot that has absolutely nothing to do with fever. “I’m fine, General, I promise.” 

“Come closer,” he says, “It’ll take me no time to check.” 

...A little too convenient. My nightgown is still embarrassingly damp from the last time I eased tonight. “Please tell me you don’t find me that naive.” 

“Naive? No.” He lifts his hand slightly. “Warm? Yes.” I still don’t trust him. “I’m not going to do anything. I promise.” 

His eyes are dark and the limited lighting of the moon doesn’t offer me much in my analysis, but what I can see makes him seem genuine. “Why do I feel like that’s not the first time you’ve had to say that?” Despite my comment, I move towards him. 

The back of Kirigan’s palm is pressed to my forehead for less than a second. He brushes his hand down the side of my temple, rotating his wrist so that his fingertips can touch my cheek. His hand then continues to move down my jawline and then my neck...and then finally trails down my collarbone. I bite my tongue to avoid exhaling audibly at the contact. 

“Warm,” he concludes with a tsk, and yet he doesn’t withdraw his hand. “Though that could just have to do with the climate.” His thumb slips beneath the sleeve of my nightgown. “Perhaps you could benefit from joining me.” 

I bite my tongue to avoid letting out a surprised, embarrassingly enthusiastic squeak. I don’t know what’s gotten into him...maybe it’s the night air and the prospect of being fully alone. I should be strong enough to break whatever spell he’s starting to place on me. But I’m not. I’m really, really not. 

He pulls on the sleeve of my nightgown slightly. “I’m…” 

“Unless you’re nervous?” Another damn challenge. To shy away from this would be to expose myself. He tugs on the sleeve a little more assuredly, exposing my shoulder to the humid night. “Do I make you nervous?” 

His voice comes out a shallow rasp. I feel it straight in my core. “...Not more than you should.” 

“More than I should?” 

Ugh--too honest. I let myself get distracted. It shouldn’t be too difficult to explain what I meant. He knows he’s feared. He wants to be feared. “I’m sure we’re both aware that there are a fair amount of cautionary tales revolving around you.” 

His hand falls next to my lap. Oh? I didn’t expect to miss the contact between us so much. His expression seems to have fallen slightly as well. Was it my response to his question? It felt fair and straightforward without being too blunt. “And you believe every cautionary tale you hear?” 

There’s something stiff about the way he asks the question. His moodiness is making me miss his touchiness even more. At least then I didn’t have to feel like I made a mistake. Did I say something wrong? “Should I?”

“It depends on whether or not you plan on being brave.” 

“I told you...I don’t see much point in fear.” 

“And yet you’re still there.” A bit of humor returns to his voice. “Why is that?” 

Rolling my eyes, I shift forward, letting my legs dip into the water. This is as far as I should let this go. I’ve already lost too much more control. “Better?” He’s strangely tense again, a hint of something bitter playing at the smug look he tries for. “You alright?”

“Of course you’d ask me that.” He says this with a tired sigh. “You can never make things easy.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

He shifts backwards slightly. I can feel the distance between us like I’d feel a pebble in my shoe. “Do you believe all the stories about me?” 

Is he still bothered by that? “I didn’t mean it as literally as you’re taking it. All I meant is that people are intimidated by you, but that’s not a bad thing. It’s the way things have to be, you’re the only Shadow Summoner in existence and the army needs you to be intimidating so that they can act on your guidance.”

“The way things have to be,” he echoes, his voice strangely weighted. “There’s a specific kind of loneliness that comes with being feared by everyone.” 

Oh--I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him feel defeated like that. I reach for his hand without thinking, pulling his fingers towards my lap. “I don’t--I’m not scared of you.” It’s a weak attempt to comfort him, but it’s the only one I can think of. “That probably doesn’t mean anything, but I--” 

His hand turns in my lap, squeezing the exposed part of my thigh. “It means something.” Kirigan’s voice has hardened in a different way. “You’re the only person I’m certain of.” 

Everything in me seems to tighten at that. At the implication of something so personal from someone so closed off. “Kirigan, you don’t have to be as alone as you feel. You talk to me all the time and you do so in a way that makes it easy to forget the cautionary tales.” His hand moves further up my thigh. I fight as I try to remember our usual dynamic. “You’re the only one that talks to me like that.” 

“Have you ever considered that maybe the others refuse to take to you because of the favor I’ve shown you? The instinct to stay away from me is strong enough to extend to those around me.” Kirigan’s hand moves higher up my thigh. “To be near me is to involve solitude.” 

“I don’t care.” The answer leaves me too quickly. “Being near you is worth it.” 

He leans closer before resting his chin on my knee with no hesitation. “Careful, you don’t understand the line you tread.” Kirigan places his hand more firmly between my thighs. “Or perhaps you do...perhaps you know what you want to cross.” 

This time I can’t help the airy sigh that leaves me. Kirigan pushes against my thigh slightly, separating my legs. I feel his breath on my inner thigh before I know what’s going on. I can’t move, I can’t think, I can’t even breathe. That inability to do anything but feel my heart pound against my chest only worsens as I feel his lips press into the inside of my thigh. His lips trail up my skin before his teeth gently sink into the top of my thigh. 

“Is the line you want to cross?” He breathes the question so softly I feel like I’m being coddled. Everything in me feels too hot to think of any kind of coherent response. Kirigan uses his free hand to pull the fabric of my nightgown as high up my thighs as he can from his position below me. “Or maybe this is the line you want to cross?” Kirigan pulls me forward so suddenly I let out a tiny gasp. I’m not fully on the edge of the banya. “Or perhaps this one?” He kisses the skin of my inner thigh gently. Each time I exhale too loudly, his teeth graze my skin. He gets harsher with each passing second. “Lay down.” 

My body listens to him on instinct. How is this happening? How am I this powerless to fight against something that’s so clearly wrong? The sound of water shifting causes my entire body to tense. He’s pulled himself out of the water. Kirigan moves above me instantly, water dripping from his toned chest and dark hair and onto my still damp nightgown. 

Before I can speak, he’s on me completely, his lips pressing against my jaw. He kisses down my neck, his teeth grazing against my skin sporadically. He pulls away from me by tracing his tongue across my collar bone. I let out something dangerously close to a moan. “Such pretty, little sounds.” 

“Kirigan--” 

“The only name I want you to hear from your lips is the only name that I’ve not given myself. The only name that holds meaning to me.” 

His lips graze where my skin meets the hem of my now soaked through nightgown. I’m not sure the poor lighting is offering me enough coverage now. There’s no way the thin fabric leaves much to the imagination while being this wet. He kisses up my chest and neck until his lips reach the shell of my ear. 

“Aleksander.” The name is grace in the form of a breath so soft it’s more like I’m feeling the name than actually hearing it. 

He presses his lips against the spot on my neck directly beneath my ear. I exhale into the contact. “Aleksander.” As I test his true name on my tongue, his teeth dig into my skin much more harshly than before. 

I let out a partial squeak at the sudden shift in pace as his hands grip my waist. “Say it again. Say my name again.”

He traces his tongue gingerly over the skin he just aggravated with his teeth before I can speak. The soothing sensation is so much I can barely find my voice. “Aleksander.” 

His hand bunches the bottom of my nightgown, raising the fabric to my hips. “...Say it just like that.” Kirgan’s rough hand slips between the bone of my hip and the fabric of my hip. “Like I’m the only one that knows you like this.”

“Aleksander.” I breathe as he traces invisible patterns into my skin with his lips. “Aleksander.” Each use of his name earns me extra attention--a stronger hold on my hip, a more adamant nip at the base of my neck. I feel my need for him so heavily I swear it’s leaked into my bones. “Aleksander.”

When he pulls away, I fight the urge to whine. The night is still humid, but with the absence of his touch I feel like I’m shivering. He regards me silently for a long moment before shifting his weight again. I feel my heart stall in my chest as his hand softly brushes a strand of hair out of my face. He lets his hand linger there, at the apple of my cheek. The entire world seems to stall as he leans down, his hand cupping the side of my face as his mouth inches closer to mine. 

“I can feel the fluttering of your heart.” 

Any poor defense dies in my throat as his lips meet mine. He gives me no time to think about what’s happening as he presses into me even harder. Kirigan holds my face as his teeth graze against my bottom lip. My mouth opens slightly in surprise, giving him the opportunity he needs to slip his tongue into my mouth. His tongue slowly brushes against mine, coaxing me into total, delirious, compliance. When he starts to pull away, I react, my hands flying forward to grab his hair. He lets me get away with tugging him towards me, prolonging the kiss as he bites my bottom lip. 

One of his hands leaves my face and travels up the hands holding onto his hair. He pulls me off of him easily, pinning both of my wrists above my head with one hand. “Easy,” Kirigan warns, “You’ve been such a good girl, let’s not ruin it before we’ve started.” 

A tiny sigh leaves me. I can feel the pride he takes in that as his hand trails further down my body. His fingers ghost along the hem of my underwear teasingly. 

“Is someone there?” I’ve never damned the voice of a stranger more. 

Panic and dread roll in my stomach. I’m going to get caught like this, with my nightgown bunched at my hips beneath the General Kirigan. An unclothed, wet, General Kirigan. “I’m bathing.” 

Okay...good...Aleksander spoke. Anyone with common sense would run at the thought of invading on Kirgan’s privacy. It’s a good thing that the soldier had the sense to linger behind a thicket of bushes. “Pardon General, but there’s been a crucial development. A new strategy should be thought of as soon as possible.” 

No. No. The thought of losing contact so entirely, of having a moment that should have never happened be ripped from me before it’s even really happened is overwhelming. I feel my lips pull into a pout. Kirigan’s hand adjusts on me, his thumb pressing teasingly over where I’m neediest. I bite my tongue to avoid making an inappropriate noise. 

“Five minutes--I’ll be in the strategy tent in five minutes.” 

“I’ll tell the others, General.”

Great. I hear the stranger disappear, his feet crushing twigs and grass as he leaves us. Aleksander’s attention returns to me quickly. Disappointment swells in my chest as I take in the solemn look that crosses his features. His hand moves to my chin quickly before pulling me into another deep kiss. It’s too short lived. 

“I have to go.” 

Frowning, I lift my hand to trace my fingers up his arm. It’s softer than I should allow myself to be, but it doesn’t really matter anymore. Not when this is probably never going to happen again. “Do you?” I mumble to myself, half joking.

He sighs once, his thumb brushing against my cheek. “No pouting.” 

Now that whatever little bubble we were in has popped, I’m capable of normal feelings. Including shame. “I am n--” 

“Easy, little dove, I’ll remember all of this when I find you again.” 

This...this is going to happen again? “You’re going to find me?” 

“I haven’t yet heard your voice crack on my name as I undo you.” He punctuates the promise with a kiss to my jaw. “Again.” Another kiss. “And again.” Another brush of his lips as he finally pulls away. “And again.” 

My breath catches itself in my throat as he moves off of me entirely. Damn whatever change in the war that’s pulled him away from me so suddenly. I sit up as he stands. I’m not sure where to look now that he’s not in close enough proximity to cloud my thoughts. I should leave as he dresses, but I can’t quite bring myself to. It doesn’t feel safe, not when the man that interrupted us could reappear at any moment. Not when I want to hold onto his presence like this as long as possible. 

 He squeezes my shoulder warmly as he passes before bending down to press one more kiss next to where his hand is. 

“Soon,” he promises again. 

--

General taglist: @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy  @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33

[weirdmageddon]

my rheumatologist has done more for me towards getting a POTS diagnosis than my cardiologist thats kinda sad bro

i came in to the cardiologist the other day (finally after waiting MONTHS) hoping for a tilt table test to see how my heart rate and blood pressure react to orthostasis in a controlled setting. the doctor didnt actually do a thing to test me for it in-office, i was just told to schedule an echo (which is fine), holster (alright) and stress test (why). but i was also prescribed eastern medicine as a treatment....“superbrain yoga”? like i dont want to seem closeminded because she is an indian doctor and there are some things that western medicine hasn’t caught on to but i realy wish i was told why it is supposed to work. like i want to know physiologically how and why it supposedly works. get technical and mechanical with me bro i have le autism, thats my language if you wanna really convince me. if it’s about toning up the muscles in my legs to squeeze the blood into my core upon standing why dont i just do squats? why do i have to do all this really specific stuff like hold my tongue at the roof of my mouth and face east, crossing my arms (right arm must go over left) and maneuver my hands in a certain way to grab my earlobes while doing those squats? is that merely a concentration sort of thing to make your brain focus? if so, why not just let me know what the purpose to these specific movements are (and what does focusing my brain have to do with treating POTS symptoms anyway)?? i’m not a spiritual person so the spiritual aspects of it do nothing for me. but at least i wasn’t given intensive aerobic exercise because i cant do that lol. i was just prescribed core strength training with planks and crunches (fine with me) and “superbrain yoga” (the specifics still confuse me but i’m doing it anyway)

but i didnt even get a tilt table test while i was there, i asked about it and she said “we stopped doing tilt table tests a while ago” and i was like ????????? thats like the gold standard to test for POTS my guy. based on just my symptoms she said i had dysautonomia and i asked “what about POTS?” and she said “it could be” and i was like ? could be? bro you didnt even test for it?

the whole visit just felt really vague and dismissive to my issues (yet again). fucking even my rheumatologist said before this visit to the cardiologist that i “probably have POTS”

so when i left the cardiologist the other day i wrote this up because i was very upset, felt dismissed, and took matters into my own hands to show what kind of medical concepts i’m capable of comprehending and the kind of language i want doctors to talk to me about my conditions in. and today i read it to my rheumatologist during today’s appointment:

the cardiologist says i have dysautonomia, “caused by dysfunction of the small blood vessels”. in the clinic, the nurse measured my laying vs standing blood pressure (which increased rather than decreased) but they didn’t do my heart rate there for some reason. but on my own i’ve measured my heart rate to jump above 30 bpm within 10 minutes of standing, so with all the symptoms lining up exactly with what’s expected of POTS (heart rate increase greater than 30 bpm within 10 minutes of standing, no drop in blood pressure, lightheadedness, brain fog, palpitations, prolonged fatigue, heat intolerance, excessive sweating etc), i’m convinced that the type of dysautonomia i specifically have is POTS, not just the umbrella term “dysautonomia”, and the specific brand of POTS i have is the neuropathic POTS subtype which is thought to be caused by sympathetic denervation (partial autonomic neuropathy) in the lower extremities. this causes the blood vessels in my legs not to constrict as they should when standing, which in turn causes blood to pool in the legs and not return to the heart, causing the heart to have to source its blood supply from elsewhere in the meantime to compensate (with an overall lower venous return), driving up the heart rate and causing lightheadedness. my blood tests also showed i am also very slightly anemic by 0.1 point below the normal range (11.6 g/dL) the resulting denervation hypersensitivity from the sympathetic denervation what is thought to cause erythromelalgia—which i express all the hallmark symptoms of as well in my feet (redness, increased skin temperature, burning sensation (feels like walking on a hot pool deck), cold to touch and bluish purple when not actively flaring, flaring occurs at night, symptoms worsen with exposure to heat and exercise (including walking on feet while flaring) and are relieved with cooling and elevation). i have no response to the cold unlike with what is seen in raynauds. i actually consider cold exposure my savior; the heat is my worst enemy, it makes me feel faint and lightheaded dysautonomia-wise and it makes my feet flare up rheumatologically.

“Several previous investigations have provided clues that patients with the postural tachycardia syndrome have peripheral autonomic dysfunction. Streeten et al. found that patients with orthostatic tachycardia had excessive venous pooling in the legs while standing and suggested that denervation of the legs was a mechanism of the syndrome. This hypothesis was supported by the finding of hypersensitivity to infusion of norepinephrine into the veins of the foot, despite high plasma catecholamine concentrations. [...] These stimuli increased norepinephrine spillover in the arms of both the patients with the postural tachycardia syndrome and the normal subjects, with similar increases in the two groups, but failed to increase norepinephrine spillover in the legs of the patients. [...] The reduced clearance of norepinephrine in the legs, without a similar reduction in the arms, may result from impairment of norepinephrine-reuptake mechanisms due to isolated damage to nerve terminals in the legs. [...] CONCLUSIONS: The neuropathic postural tachycardia syndrome results from partial sympathetic denervation, especially in the legs.” — (https://www.nejm.org/doi/full/10.1056/NEJM200010053431404)

“The laser Doppler flowmetry signal after sympathetic stimulation of reflexes mediated through the central nervous system, was significantly diminished in patients with erythromelalgia as compared with healthy controls. [...] Vasoconstrictor responses involving central sympathetic reflexes were attenuated in erythromelalgia. Local neurogenic vasoconstrictor regulation, vasodilator response to local heating and hyperemic response to ischemia were maintained. [...] The finding of reduced skin perfusion before provocation is in accordance with the clinical observations that many erythromelalgia patients exhibit cold acral skin between attacks. [...] These results indicate that postganglionic sympathetic dysfunction and denervation hypersensitivity may play a pathogenetic role in primary erythromelalgia.” — (https://linkinghub.elsevier.com/retrieve/pii/S0022-202X(15)41629-X)

“Denervation hypersensitivity is a phenomenon peculiar to smooth muscle innervated by the general visceral efferent system. Following denervation there is increased sensitivity of the muscle to neurotransmitters. This is evident in smooth muscle innervated by sympathetic neurons when the postganglionic axon is affected. Such denervated muscle shows hypersensitivity to the application of epinephrine or to circulating epinephrine released during excitement.” — (https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/B9780721605616500198)

although my rheumatologist is in no position to give me a POTS diagnosis she very much agreed with the connections i made and said she thinks i am right on the mark with my conditions. she told me im a real academic patient and even that i’d be well suited for going into medicine lol. not only is it refreshing to have a doctor that doesn’t disregard their patient’s knowledge, but it’s good to see what i’ve learned about nerves from my biopsych classes (and in my own time for funsies) paying off in ways concerning my health. my mom who is a nurse also agrees that neuropathic POTS and erythromelalgia are what i have.

anyway the POTS symptoms have been a massive thing for me since puberty and the erythromelalgia developed a year or so after my POTS symptoms started. but i’ve always had freezing cold clammy hands and feet since i was a young child, they just hadn’t started changing colors and flaring until after i hit puberty. i’m not sure what destroyed the sympathetic nerve fibers in my legs (as most POTS happens in teenagers due to some viral illness but i’ve never had that?), i was also just tested for a bunch of autoimmune factors and disorders and my results came back negative. maybe it’s just a genetic factor, who knows, probably something caused by a hormone’s cascading effect gone awry at some point. it seems a lot of autistic afab people have POTS or some other type of dysautonomia for some reason and i’m curious as to why.

anyway i’m really stuck in a liminal space because i have no official diagnosis beyond “dysautonomia” but i’ve been sure of what it is for like over a year and it keeps getting clearer and clearer that i was right all along

[sckyie]

word count: 1.9k

genre + warnings: bittersweet fluff + some angst?; timeskip!sakusa, drunk sakusa, kabedon, alcohol mentions

pronouns used: they/them

a/n: im sleepy omfg anyways hi im writing stuff on my other account after this

You were always the more affectionate type in the relationship between you and Sakusa. Well, that's what you would call it. Nothing was ever official the two of you but, he never minded when you held his hand in private, cuddled beside him, or even called him cutesy names. He was comfortable around you, it was almost as if he were a different person altogether.

Though he didn't mind the unofficial title, it did sting in your chest that you didn't technically matter enough for anything to be set and stone. It was hard to bring it up but also keep a cool head when talking about it. You wanted to be known as Sakusa's significant other, not just his best friend.

An upcoming MSBY dinner before the big game was approaching and Sakusa had asked you to accompany him as his date. You doodled on your notes as you looked at your calendar on your desk. Your mind wandered thinking about Sakusa. Why hasn't he asked you to be his yet? What would his teammates say when he introduces you as his best friend?

A few days before the dinner, you invited Sakusa out to a small lunch. You dragged him along to the grocery store to buy the food and drinks. You had your arm looped around him up until you arrived at the steps of the doors of the store. He shrugs you off him and looks away from you, something he always does. You sighed as you tugged his sleeve to drag him to the proper aisles.

He was distracted, to say the least, as you were picking out the different ingredients for your lunch date. Sakusa didn't even take notice when you disappeared into a different area. It wasn't like him to do such a thing but once he realized you were gone, he was sent into a panic. He quickly drifts into other sections, searching for you.

That's when he found you speaking to someone else. Speaking to another man in particular. You weren't flirting with him or anything, you were talking to him about which brand of spice would taste better for your dish. Turns out, the guy you were talking with worked as a head chef at a local restaurant. You say your goodbyes as you place your goods in your basket before turning to find Sakusa staring at the stranger. "Oh, sorry Omi, I lost you back there. I thought you were following me," You say.

"It's...fine- who was that?" He whips his head to look at you.

"Oh, no one, I asked him to help me find some spices for lunch, come on, I have to get a couple more things then we can leave okay? I know you don't like going out as much," You say.

Was he jealous? He was lost in thought as his eyes followed where the stranger left off. He denies that he ever felt that way yet he didn't notice you tugging on his sleeve."Omi?" You ask.

"Hm," He hums through his mask. He looks down at you, his chest pressed against your back.

"You seem like a puppy clinging onto its mom, you're never this close to me in public. Is something wrong?" You chuckle looking up at him. He takes a step back and tries to look away. You smile up at him before picking your final ingredients.

"Sorry Y/n, just..." You pat his side lightly before heading over to the cashier. He sighs before trailing behind you.

The entire lunch date it seemed like he was quieter than normal, uncomfortable to talk to you even. While you two shifted into watching a movie, he held your hand tighter than usual as you snuggled beside him. It was foreign to be this close to Sakusa, but you didn't mind the comfort being held in his arms. So much so, that soon after you found yourself slowly drifting off to sleep engulfed in his warmth.

Sakusa looked down at your now sleeping figure, his cheeks burning red, as he lowered the volume of the movie. How did he end up in this situation? Though he did like you having you beside him, he was thinking to himself. Why was he so clingy to you? Was it jealousy? It couldn't be, you technically weren't his significant other.

The next day, the two of you didn't talk about you falling asleep beside him. It was the first time he had let you gotten so close to him. Besides the point, tonight was the MSBY dinner at a night bar and restaurant rented out to the entire team. You joined the team and their respective invites to the tables as everyone greeted one another at the tables.

You sat beside Sakusa and across from Atsumu with his brother beside him. You smiled at the twins before turning to look down at the menu. "So how do you know Sakusa?" Atsumu asks.

"Oh, we're childhood friends, we were neighbors as up until we graduated. We reconnected recently when I moved back for college," You explained.

"So yer not...dating?" Atsumu raised his eyebrow. Osamu nudged his leg against his brother's but you paused to respond.

"No, we're not," Sakusa says, seeing you hesitate. You looked away from him, and awkwardly smiled back at Atsumu. "They're just my best friend."

Just a best friend. You couldn't wrap your head around those words. It was true, you were his best friend, but the feelings you had for him stung in your chest. You pinched your thigh to ignore the unsettling feeling in your stomach. You tried to make conversation with the boys, more so with Atsumu. Sakusa raised his eyebrow at this, but never saying a word to you.

When the dinner at the table ended, the team moved to the entertainment bar upstairs. You quietly followed behind Sakusa to where Atsumu and Osamu had gone to play pool. "Do you play?" Osamu asked, you shook your head as you watched Sakusa walk away to go get a drink.

"What's on yer mind? You seem down all of dinner," Osamu says. Atsumu seats himself beside you as his brother takes his turn at the pool table.

"Sakusa...He's..." You trailed. "To me, he's more than just my best friend. But I guess, that's all I'll ever be to him." You sighed.

"Oh he doesn't want to make it official, huh?" Atsumu nudges. You nod.

"He cuddles me, holds my hand- hell, he got jealous yesterday over a dude helping me buy spices, I don't get it. Now, look at him," You gesture. Sakusa sat himself beside Meian and the other players at the bar to drink almost as if he had forgotten about you. "It doesn't make sense. Now I just...Just wanna forget about my dumb feeling and move on."

You let out a sigh as Atsumu pats you on the back. The rest of the night, the twins spent playing while trying to cheer you up. It worked as you found yourself as well as two more players joining in, joyously playing pool and casually drinking.

Sakusa on the other hand, had decided to drink as he never wanted to admit he was jealous. He wanted you. He did, but he didn't want to tell you to stop talking to his teammate. Why didn't he tell Atsumu that you were his significant other? He takes another sip of his dark liquor before glancing behind him to see you and Atsumu leaning against a wall.

You two were smiling, laughing, being the happiest in the room. Why were you smiling so big? Only Sakusa was supposed to make you smile like that. No one else. His eyes watch as you playfully nudged Atsumu and that's what upset him. You weren't falling for him, were you?

Sakusa found himself walking towards the two of you. His cheeks were bright red, his steps were slightly off for his drunk stature. You turn to see the wobbly figure but before you could stop him or say anything to him, Sakusa had his mind set on one thing.

He had stood in front of Atsumu, nearly a step away from him. You feared for your life that Sakusa would hit him but you were frozen. Sakusa takes his hands and slams it against the walls behind Atsumu, encasing the setter in between his arms. You take a moment to pause.

"Who the fuck do you think you are talking to Y/n?" Sakusa mutters. Atsumu could smell the alcohol in his breath.

"Omi-kun it's not what ya think I- I-" Atsumu stuttered.

You couldn't make out what the two were saying but you were concerned. You heard the muttered arguments and you turned to Osamu who was talking to Bokuto. You tugged at his sleeve before showing him what was happening.

"Did- did my brother just get kabedoned by Sakusa-san?" Osamu tilted his head. You nodded and asked what to do. "Break it up. I'm not helping ya."

You approached the two conversing to overhear what they were saying to one another.

"I swear to fucking God- I'll break- I'll break-" Sakusa threatened. "If you were flirting with Y/n."

"I wasn't! I wasn't!" Atsumu pleaded.

"Hey hey! Omi!" You called out, trying to get Sakusa's attention. He glances at you but he turns back to Atsumu. This time his right hand moves closer to Atsumu's body to grab it. You approach the two. "Omi!"

"Omi-kun, we were just talking not flirting I swear! Just ask them!" Atsumu was sweating bullets. He had never been this close to Sakusa nor has ever seen him this infuriated. Sakusa had enough and grabbed Atsumu's shirt.

"Omi! Look at me, not him!" You called out, ran over grabbing Sakusa's wrist off Atsumu. He pulls off the fabric, allowing the setter to stumble away from the wall. "Omi, we weren't flirting. He was just cheering me up."

"Cheering you up? Why?" Sakusa scratches the back of his neck.

"Why? Because of you dumb dumb," You huffed.

"Because of me? Why because of me?" He asked.

"Oh my god," You groaned. You placed your hands on Sakusa's cheeks before pulling him down and placing a sloppy kiss on his lips. His mouth was soft despite what you'd expected. After waiting months, finally pressing your lips against his was a wave of relief. You could taste the bitter liquor leftover on his lips as you pulled away. "Because you...you failed to realized that I'm in love with you and you just abandoned me to hang out with your teammates and their guests. Now..will you hang out with me or are you gonna keep denying your jealousy like yesterday?"

Sakusa looks at you for a second before snaking his hand around your waist. He pulls you in for another kiss, prompting the team to give him a round of applause. His slips his tongue this time, letting you taste more of the alcohol in his system. You pull away, smiling and notice how much he was smiling too. "Sorry for being jealous," He says. He looks up to Atsumu who was now standing beside Osamu. "I may be drunk, but if you- if you flirt with Y/n for real, I'm break your nose Miya."

You giggle as you dragged Sakusa to an empty table by the bar where you'd sober him up. "Do you really mean that?" You say as you bring a glass of water to Sakusa. He leans against you, resting his head on your shoulder as he sips the water. "You'll beat up Atsumu if he flirts with me?"

"I'll beat up anyone. Do you really mean it when you say you love me?" He asks.

"Shhh, you're drunk," You laughed.

"Hey, I'm not that type of drunk, tell me," He persists. You take a beat of silence to answer.

"Indefinitely," You say. Your hand laces with his, thumb rubbing the back of his hand. "I can't see myself falling for anyone else."

"Me neither," He says.

taglist: @amillionfandoms-onlyoneme @just-a-siiimp @d0llpie @elianetsantana @snowsmuse

[unlikelyempathpruneauthor]

Lovers at last

Calum Hood x Reader

summary: after years of being friends and even a band mate of the guys, you grow up and experience something you never thought you would.

a/n: this was definitely something from like 3 in the morning so hopefully you all enjoy. also this is during like youngblood era for those who like the timeframes. there are also some typos but i mean it’s okay lol adds on to the effect.

You and the boys have been together as friends since middle school, it was always the 5 of you, when the guys were creating the band and posting videos on youtube you helped them figure that part out and being the technical bandmate, especially when it came to social media. However as time moved along the boys were getting big and had gotten their own team, you didn't take this as a bad thing, it was good they were getting noticed and having their music heard. Even if they were away you were still a part of the band, it didn't matter if it was official or not, you were a part of the band.

You on the other hand, had gotten yourself in the music industry and started as an intern producer for a record label and making tunes for some starting bands. Your talent in creating these tunes eventually brought all types of artists from around the world to work with you. You later got into writing lyrics and started writing music for other artists. Of course this went around pretty fast getting attention from many artists. You had told the guys about this way before you started, they were all sure you were going to make it big as well. In the younger years you had helped the band before with lyrics and tunes or chords. Helping them find their sound.

Skip forward to knowing you were currently texting with Cal as he and the guys were on tour, while you were meeting or well about to meet the one and only Ariana Grande who needed to find some new sounds for her new album. Before meeting with her you were freaking out and needed someone to talk to and that's where this story leads us.

Meeting ariana grande was one of the things you have always dreamed of, of course when you were contacted for some help with producing you thought it was a joke because who would send an email saying they are ariana grande and would like to work with you on their album, that just doesn't happen, but in this case it did for you. You had everything prepared for her to give a listen to and let her decide on what changes needed to be made and for her to just be comfortable with the new samples you made for her.

Talking to her in text was something you were good at but now you were officially meeting her and getting her full opinion about the stuff you made. It was about an hour of you showing her all the stuff you came up with and she was just so fascinated with what you came up with. To be honest you were unsure what she wanted so you made a lot, and I mean a lot of material, so you were prepared for anything that she might need.

“These samples are crazy good! I've been trying to find a new sound and these three simple songs need these sounds, this is really amazing.” she said as you nodded being glad you were able to find her sound, “well i'm glad you like them, im happy to help, it's an honor really.” you said as she shook her head, “i should be saying that about you, you have crazy talent for this. Have you considered moving to LA?” she asked as you shrugged, “maybe one day, i'm not sure yet, i don't know if you know but i'm friends with 5 seconds of summer,” you said as she gasped and nodded, “oh yeah i've heard of them, but what do they have to do with you moving to LA?” she asked as you continued, “Well we grew up together here and i don't know i wouldn't want to leave them and the place where we all grew up.” you said as she nodded completely understanding, “yeah it's tough, but if they are your friends i feel like they would understand because they are growing, it wouldn't hurt for them seeing you grow too.” she said quite simply and honestly as you nodded taking that advice to heart.

You knew that maybe just one day you would move your career somewhere else, but you just didn't want to leave home. Yeah they leave you while on your but they always come back, even if it's just for a while, they come back. A part of you wanted to go to LA and pursue your dreams there, but your home was here. You didn't want to leave the place where you grew up. Of course this needed to be talked with. Not just your parents, but with cal and the guys.

…

Weeks later the guys had all come home and you sent them all a message that you needed to talk to them all together. The guys were slightly confused but they wanted to see you anyway so they all agreed.As you were in the old garage where they used to rehearse you were more nervous that you thought you were. You had made the final decisions and you were moving to LA, you had signed off with a good company and you were officially to move away from home. Everything was done, you just needed to tell the guys.They all walked in as they all saw you sitting down with a very serious face and began to worry.

“hey guys.” you said as they all smiled at you and gave you a hug as you looked at all of them and worried how they were going to react. “So why did you bring us all here?” Michael asked partly worried as the rest followed you to sit down, “Well i have some news i needed to share, and well you were on tour and i couldn't interrupt that.” you said as ash shook his head, “y/n, you know we're here for you no matter what, even if we are on tour.” Ash said as you smiled for his compassion, “what is it dovey?” cal asked probably the most worried out of all of the group. He was scared of what was going on and was prepared for any news that could change your life and his plans of telling you how he felt about you. To be frank he had always beat himself up for it whenever the days passed and he didn't tell you about his feelings, he was close to telling you, but with this news he might just tell you now. You two were close and you met cal first way before the guys, so it would be understable if you and cal needed some privacy with what you were about to say.

“Well, you remember when I met Ariana Grande and did some samples for her album?” you asked as they all nodded and luke spoke, “yeah those were amazing by the way, were sorry we couldn't be there to celebrate.” he said as you shook your head softly with a small smile, “its okay, i know you guys were out celebrating out there,” you said with a giggle as they all joined in, “Well we talk about uh.. about moving to LA and i've been considering it, but at first i didn't want to decide alone because well i didn't want to leave home but uh, what i'm trying to say is that basically..” you said pausing as cal spoke, “you're moving to LA.” he said as you looked at him with a sorry look and nodded looking at the rest of the guys. There was a slight pause but that was because the guys were processing this whole situation, you were moving away and that was okay as long as you were happy.

“Im sorry, if this is gonna ruin our friendship, but i feel like i need to go there. Things are good here, but LA is where I can grow and become better.” you said as they all shook their heads, “don’t apologize y/n, how many times have we left you? You didn't stop us, you empowered us to keep our heads up which is what we will do for you.” Ash said as Michael nodded, “as much as it hurts seeing you leave, we know they need you over there, our friendship isn't over, in fact it will grow. We might even create music together.” he said as you smiled and looked over at luke, “it's not the end is all i know, it's a beginning for all of us. I mean who knows we might all be in LA soon, so you won't be alone. We're here for you y/n we always will be. '' he said as you looked over at Calum who had a sad look, but he was happy deep down inside, but he couldn't believe that even more distance would separate you two.

“Cal?” you asked as he looked at you in a certain way and you looked at the guys to give you two some personal space and they nodded and left. You took one look at Cal and knew something was wrong the minute you spoke about LA. For you two him leaving was enough distance between you two, now he knew what you felt when he was leaving, but this time you were leaving for good.

“What's wrong cal?” you asked as he looked at you, this was his time he knew it, it was time despite the bad timing, “this is probably bad timing, but... i love you, i've always been in love with you.” he said as you looked at him in seriousness. You didn't know if this was him wanting you to stay or if these were his true feelings, but you felt your heart beating faster and felt it get warm as your eyes were on him.

“Wait what?” you asked as he looked over at you, “i'm in love with you dovey, always have been. I'm not telling you this to make you stay, I just needed you to know is all.. I just need you to know before you leave,” he said as you looked at him and your eye contact was firm, “what..what do you mean years?” you asked as he grabbed your hands and you didn't pull away. He knew this was a sign, “since we first met there was something about you that just pulled me in, it was everything about you, there wasn't one bad thing about you, i just can't stand keeping it in, i need you more than just a friend.” he said as you were nervous with what you were about to say next, “cal.. I'm in love with you too.” you said in a whisper as he looked up quickly hoping he had heard you right.

“You- really?” he said as you pulled him in for a kiss. Your lips had connected in need for one another's touch after years of thinking one another saw each other as friends. This moment that the both of you had dreamed of was happening. His hands were all over your waist as they traveled up to your cheek and yours were on his jaw and hair. Once the kiss broke you both stared into one another's eyes and you smiled, “i love you.” you said again as cal smiled and took you in for a kiss once again and this was definitely the start of something new.

...

Moving to LA had its perks, mainly for your job, you had met new people and even helped out starter bands or singers with their career and sending them off with a great bang. You have also been working with big time singers and bands and helping them out with some new sound. You were given some new material and had even created some for a band that your boss said would be coming in and wanting some sort of new sound for their album. You wondered who they were not knowing what band it was. All you were told was that they were working on their 3rd album and needed some help.

As you waited for their arrival you texted Cal to see how he was doing. Ever since you two started dating, texting around the day and being near your phone as a must. He missed you dearly and you missed him, so the small messages around the day helped. He also came over from time to time, but not a whole lot.

You were quick to get into the room and you were shocked with who was in front of you. Cal was in front of you and you were quick to run over to him and hug him tight. You gave each other a small peck as you enjoyed one another's company, “what? How and when?” you said as you heard someone cough as you turned around and saw the 3 other boys standing in front of you. “What are you guys doing here?” you said with a smile as you hugged them all in a group hug, you sure missed them after not seeing them for a year. “Well we are here to work on our album, we heard there's an amazing producer here.” Michael spoke and it hit you with the realization that it was them you were working with. “Wait seriously, you want my help? But I thought you were in europe?” you said as luke nodded, “yeah we were there a couple days ago, but we need your help. The album is going great but we still need more sounds and samples.” he said as you nodded, “well okay i can help you with that, but are you sure you want my help?” you said as cal grabbed your waist pulling you closer to him as the boys nodded, “yes we need your help, you know us better than anyone, and well you are the best in LA,” ash said as you smiled, “okay yeah i'll help.” you said looking at everyone and over at cal with a smile.

Before working you all hung out for a while and to also see the vibe they were wanting to find. You were just over the moon that they were here, you had missed them so much and just needed to see your friends again and of course your boyfriend. You were looking through lots of new material the whole day just to see what they like and seeing if you could place it all together and get them something they want so they can start with recording.

“These samples are all good, you could make something with that, but just, we want it simple yet complex.” Michael said as you nodded, “yeah for sure, I should have some stuff in here,” you said as Luke nodded, “yeah also if you want to, we have the lyrics set for these songs,” he said as he handed you the files with the lyrics. The songs titles in here were moving along, more, monsters among men, and one that was titled valentine but that one had no lyrics, “this one doesn't have lyrics? You're making a song about valentines day?” you said pointing it out as ash nodded, “well yeah, it's in a couple days and we were all thinking about how many people were going to make a song and release it as well, we want to make our own version of mariah carey’s all i want for christmas but with valentine's day.” he explained as you nodded. You then walked over to the computer remembering these two samples that were perfect for this song, “that's funny because i have this sample, well i have two actually,” you said clicking through and finding them both and laying them out in repeat as the boys all stood behind you watching you do your thing.

“Okay the first one is just a, “dum, dum, dum, dum, um.” over and over, and the second one is just, “valentine,” over and over again as well, but if you were to place it on top of one antoher..you get this.” you said as they all gave it a hear and it was so uncanny but perfect, the lyrics were already flowing in.

The guys were all happy with there they left things off leaving you to rest and of course spend time with cal. You two were walking out hand in hand into your car, you were heading over to the drivers side but he followed you and you looked up confused, “you wanna drive?” you asked as he took your keys and smiled, “yeah, i've got a surprise actually, so i was hoping we could make a stop there.” he said as you nodded, “okay cal..just don't kill me or anything.” you joked as you got on the other side of the car, “ dovey i would never kill you, i would probably kill for you though,” he said as you scrunch your nose and you had reached over for a kiss before leaving.

On your way there his hand was near yours, the most he missed about you was your touch and he just needed a part of you touching him making him feel safe. Ever since you left he had missed you dearly and well of course duke. You couldn't see duke as much which sucked, but you knew that you would see him soon whenever it was your turn to go to visit.

Once you made the stop, you were parked in front of a house, “who lives here?” you asked as he got out to open your side of the door and you two walked over to the front of the house as he held you in his arms hoping you could guess. “Well it's definitely someone,” he said as you frowned as you headed near the door, once the door was opened you saw duke run over to you as you kneeled down greeting the puppy and even picking him up missing the pup’s barks and kisses, you then looked inside the house. You had seen all of cal’s things and then it hit you. “You? You live here?” you said with a smile as he nodded with a smile, “yeah i do, i wanted to be closer to you and I know this is probably way too fast, but i love you so much and I just can't live without you, you are everything to me and i want you to know that i have no regrets and i will never have any,” he said as you started tearing up and smiled at him as you couldn't believe that the distance between you two was finally over.

“You did this for me?” you asked quietly as he nodded softly, “well i'm not gonna lie this is very surprising but im happy, i miss you everyday and this changes that..but what about your parents?” you asked as he sighed, “actually dovey, they were the ones who convinced me to move over here. They saw how much i missed you, i didn't even leave the house i just want to be with you and well they knew i had to move...look if this isn't what you want then-” he said as you cut him of quick, “no, stop, this is what i want, i just want you to be sure cal,” you said as he walked over to you and kissed you as he held you in his arms and had placed your hands near his heart, “dovey i already told you, no regrets. This heart beats for you only. I want this, not just for me but for us.” he said as you smiled and just knew this had to happen.

“Also i want you to live here with me, i wanna wake up with you and fall asleep by your side, i can't stand being away from you dovey,” he said as you smiled and nodded, “of course i will, you're everything to me.” you said as you kissed once again. This was meant to be. It was the beginning. There were no regrets on either side, you were all in. you and him are soulmates, it just took a while to settle.

[wagner-fell]

Spiders Are Ugly And Other Lies Capitalism Has Told Us (part one)

“Dad,” Astrid called out, shutting the coral coloured front door behind her. “Are you home?”

She dumped her cream tote bag spray painted with the words ‘Washing Machine Heart’ in big, rainbow letters onto one of the stools facing the granite countertop. The rest of the Merry Hoes followed suit. It was weird seeing a person as chaotic as Astrid in such a calm environment.

They were all spending the summer in LA with Astrid and her Dad. It had taken a while for Kevin to convince his family it was a good idea. Especially because he and Blessica had finally put years of pinning behind them. Making out on Kit’s bed at Mina’s third birthday party certainly wasn’t the way they had envisioned it but as the longing was over with, they were happy.

The Chu’s didn’t love the idea of their son living in a different country for three months with his girlfriend but we’re on board once Kevin assured them there was no possible way Blessica could get pregnant.

Kit wasn’t officially sleeping at the Yang’s but at the Institute with his boyfriend. Julian wasn’t so thrilled about the situation but Emma was. She was positively ecstatic about having a training partner as skilled as Kit was, courtesy of Jem and Tessa. Though staying a thirty minute drive away (on the wrong side of the road, Mari noted) wouldn’t keep Kit away for long. Even now he was with them instead of having his own reunion make out session.

Speaking of making out…

Mari rested their chin on the top of Astrid’s head and wrapped their arms around her middle. “Why don’t you show us your room while we wait for your dad to get home.”

It was kinda perfect, Mari often remarked, that she realized her feelings for their best friend weren’t so platonic as she previously led herself to believe at the same time they and Kit realized they were better off as just platonic.

Astrid hit her hand playfully. “That’s not fair!” she whined! ”How dare you take advantage of my constant hornyness when my God-fearing Presbyterian father could be in the next room? Shame! Shame on you, shame on your family, shame on your cow.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s ‘dishonor’”, said Kit, who didn’t even look up from his phone when he addressed her, “but go off I guess.”

Astrid looked like she was questioning all her life choices up to this point. “A white boy knows Mulan better than me.” She shook her head in disgust. Mari could feel the loose hairs of her girlfriend’s ponytail ticking her exposed collar bone. “Mulan.”

Mari laughed before softly brushing their lips against Astrid mop of bleached strands of pastel yellow, pink and blue mixed magnificently with her natural inky black.

“Is hornyness even a word?” Kevin wondered aloud as he observed the knickknacks placed at even intervals utop the kitchen cabinets. Blessica was with him. She was gazing at one of a crab steering a ship when she spotted a slim piece of paper taped below it.

“Ast,” she called. The both looked in her direction, despite Blessica needing the attention of one. “Your dad says he won’t be home till seven. Emergency at work.”

“Which leaves us more than enough time to pack and head over to meet Ty, Dru and Thaìs at the arcade,” said Kit. He finally turned his phone off and shoved it into the back pocket of his ripped jeans. “Marstrid can do the ol’ devil’s tango then catch up to us.”

‘Marstrid’ wrinkled their noses. “I thought we agreed on Astari, Christopher.”

“Astari sounds gayer,” confirmed Kevin, his eyes never leaving the miniature decorations.

“Not to be rude but why does Astari sound gayer?” asked a visibly confused Blessica.

“Because,” answered Mari, unraveling herself from Astrid to slide onto one of the bar stools and reaching into the Jolly Rancher jar, blindly searching for a green, “Astari has ‘star’ in it. Star equals astrology. An obsession with astrology is the price you pay for the gay agenda. Besides, Marstrid sounds like an old southern lady.” Then she furrowed her eyebrows and swiveled to face Astrid. “Southern is Texas, right?” Astrid nooded, a smile so big the Cheshire Cat would be jealous.

Without looking, she stuck her hand in the jar and pulled out a green apple flavoured hard candy on her first try. She held it out to Mari, who snatched it out of her hand with an angry huff.

“Hey, Ast, where do you guys keep the crisps?” asked Kevin when he finished inspecting all the knickknacks.

“Uh, under the barbecue sauce, I think.”

Kit’s eyes lit up. “So I’m sitting there”- Astrid understood what was happening in just enough time to quote- “barbecue sauce on my titties” in unison.

Mari put her head into their open palms, still sucking on the pity candy. “Why is this my type?”

“Are you sure this is the right place?” asked Blessica as Kit attempted to parallel park outside the location Ty had texted him to meet at. Key word, attempt. When Tessa had taught him to drive, he’d been such a disaster at parallel parking she had instructed him to ‘take the underground when tight spaces might be a possibility.’ Which he prided himself in doing. But this was America and the underground was called the subway, so, technically, no rules were being broken.

“Yes, Blessie, I’m certain.”

“Okay. Just checking cause a few turns back the GPS said-”

“Blessie!” He nearly crashed into the car in front of him.

“Right. Shutting up.”

When Kit managed to park with minimal damage and the three were about to exit, the voice of Nicki Minaj boomed from his pocket. Ty was calling him. He accepted the call, putting it on speaker.

“Hello Tiberius.” There was giggling from the other end of the line. A groan soon followed it.

“It’s been a year,” came the annoyed voice of Dru. “Get over your British kink already.” Kevin’s laughter echoed from the backseat.

“Hey Ty!

“Hi Kevin.”

”Hey Dru!”

“Fuck off.”

“Ouch. Why do you feel the need to hurt me so?” Blessica laughed.

“Hey…Thaìs?”

“Here,” replied Thaìs cheerfully.

“Are you here yet,” asked Ty.

“Uh, yeah! We were just getting out of the rental car when you called. You didn’t tell me it was going to be crowded. I had to parallel park!”

“What are you talking about?” interrupted Dru. ”There are only four cars in the parking lot.”

“But,” Ty countered, “there are lots of Billy’s Fun Zones’ around here. You guys must have got mixed up and taken a wrong turn. I could have sworn I sent you the correct location on GPS.” Maybe Ty said more on the subject but Kit could hear anything or see anything except the superior smirk Blessica was giving him.

He covered the speaker. “Not. A. Word.” And no word came out of her mouth the entire ride to the correct Billy’s Fun Zone but the ‘I told you so’ look on her face spoke loud enough.

Kit slid back into the booth next to Ty, handing him his pretzel. Ty kissed him on the check in gratitude.

Dru and Ty were right. About this one being empty. He told him he had heard about it from Alyssa. Her pack frequented it often. They were left alone because, well, there was no one else there to bother them.

“Where are Astrid and Mari?” he asked.

“Fucking. I think. Or maybe just making out. I’ll know which one when they finish.” When Ty gave him a puzzled look he continued, “Astrid describes it all to me in full detail. I honestly don’t know whether she doesn’t have a filter or she just needs someone to scream to about how amazing Mari is.”

“Why can’t it be both?”

“True, true.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Ty picked up the conversation again. “When Thaìs first met Astrid, she had a huge crush on her. They got along great. I always thought they would end up together. Or hook up at the very least.”

“Huh, that’s funny,” observed Kit.

“What is?”

“When me and Mari split, I was planning on trying to set them up with Thaìs. But then I caught her ans Astrid making out in a storage closet at school. Which, in hindsight, was pretty stupid cause they were in there so I wouldn’t be sad Mari moved on when I opened the door in the first place avoiding her to call you.”

“Hmmmm.”

The gears in Ty’s head were visibly turning. Kit loved watching this process. An idea was forming in his boyfriend’s genius mind, he could sense it.

“What is their stance on monogamy?” he asked finally.

“Um, fuck, hold on. Mari sent me this whole speech about it.” Kit scrolled through his phone at a rapid rate before he saw what he was looking for. He cleared his throat and began reading aloud.

Mari_da_bisexual_whore, sent 1:52 AM: monogamy is just another lie capitalism has fed us

Mari_da_bisexual_whore, sent 1:55 AM: like, for example, the notion that house spiders are ugly and to be feared

Mari_da_bisexual_whore, sent 1:56 AM: it’s just to sell bug spray

Mari_da_bisexual_whore, sent 1:56 AM: same with monogamy

Mari_da_bisexual_whore, sent 1:56 AM: pointless!!!

Mari_da_bisexual_whore, sent 1:58 AM: in conclusion, if I want to join a polyam cult, who tf is the government to stop me?

Kev-Kev, sent 2:01 AM: mari please go to sleep

Bless-ing_to_the_world, sent 2:04 AM: ^^^^^^^^^^^

Mitski_my_love, sent 2:05 AM: preach!

Mitski_my_love, sent 2:05 AM: go off queen

By the time Kit was finished with his dramatic reading, Ty’s plan was fully formed.

“That settles it! We are going to play matchmakers!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alyssa, Ty’s friend mentioned is @thechangeling OC, not mine.

@the-blackdale @the-wckd-powers @adoravel-fenomeno @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @illusions-give-reasons-to-live @ithurielkeepsgettingkidnapped @im-not-ruined-im-ruination @sofiatheskeleton @cncnbr @its-taff @noah-herondale-lightwood @maxboythedog @arangiajoan @shelvesofgold @book-dragon-not-worm sorry if I missed anyone LMK if you want to be added or removed from The tag List!!

[misscorn]

Day 7: Future/Post Confession

I can't believe yet another @takaritsuweek has come and gone so fast 😭❤ everyone in this Fandom is so talented and im obsessed with the nostalgia content 💘 please enjoy my last one shot for this week ☺

***

Onodera Ritsu was being weird, which could only mean one thing: something was wrong and he wasn't talking to Masamune about it.

Masamune had really hoped that things would go smoother after Ritsu confessed, but that was foolish. Masamune was so, undeniably happy, but they weren't perfect people. Both of them still had things to work on, separately and together. One of those things was more readily relying on one another. So, Masamune was determined to find out what was wrong.

Ritsu just seemed a lot more...spacey than usual. And anxious. And maybe a little gloomy? Masamune couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he knew that he didn't like it.

Currently, Ritsu was over at Masamune's apartment, helping to clean up the dishes as the two of them had just finished dinner. Ritsu was at Masamune's place quite frequently and Masamune always brought up the idea of moving in together, but Ritsu hadn't quite come around to it yet, mostly because he knew for a fact that it would affect any work the two of them brought home. Masamune got...distracted easily and Ritsu tended to get swept away. So, for now Ritsu was content with a lot of sleepovers.

Once they finished cleaning, Masamune led Ritsu into the living room by his hand. He sat down unceremoniously on the couch before pulling Ritsu down with him and on to his lap, making Ritsu's face burn red.

I kind of hope he never gets used to this, Masamune thought, loving the sight of Ritsu's adorably embarrassed expression.

"What do you think you're doing?" Ritsu asked, trying to sound scolding, but he only succeeded in sounding nervous.

Masamune wrapped his arms around Ritsu's waist. "I just want to talk and I figured if I have you like this you won't be able to run away." Like how you love to do.

Ritsu couldn't even argue against that logic, but he made a displeased face anyway. "Fine. What is it?"

"Is everything okay with you?" Masamune asked.

"Huh? Yeah, I'm fine." Ritsu said dismissively.

"You just seem like you've had something on your mind lately." Masamune said. "Making me worried."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you." Ritsu apologized immediately.

"Don't say sorry, there's nothing to be sorry for, I just wanna know if there's something going on." Masamune said, trying to sound reassuring.

Ritsu chewed on his lower lip nervously before he spoke again. "I guess I have been thinking a bit..." He started vaguely.

"What about?" Masamune pressed gently.

"Well, my mom's gotten off my back about An-chan, but not about settling down. She's been trying to set up matchmaking sessions, introducing me to daughters of friends of hers whenever I visit, sending me info about singles events." Ritsu tried not to cringe at the thought of going to one of those. "And I just...I think maybe it's time I tell my parents about you. About us." Ritsu said. "I mean, I know we only started officially d-dating not too long ago, but I feel like we're both kind of in this for the long haul." He laughed nervously. They've both been in this for the past ten years, after all. It was hardly too soon to let his parents be in the know. "So, um, it seems only right to tell them..."

"If you want to tell them then you should." Masamune said.

"You make things sound so simple." Ritsu sighed. "It could go really, really wrong, you know?"

"I know. But the other option is keeping it a secret forever. Which, you can if you want, but it might be difficult to eventually explain to your parents when they visit why you have a longterm male roommate and you both wear matching wedding rings and share a room and take care of a little girl who calls both of you dad."

Ritsu's face flushed at Masamune projection of their future together, his heartbeat picking up in pace. "You want to have a daughter?"

"Someday, I think it'd be nice. But we're not even past the step of me meeting your parents, so I don't think they're going to get grandchildren anytime soon." Masamune planted a quick kiss on Ritsu’s shoulder.

"W-Wait, meeting?! I was just going to tell them, I didn't plan on having you meet them yet!" Ritsu said quickly.

"Ritsu, this is your mom we're talking about. If you tell her I exist she will track me down and interrogate the hell out of me whether you want her to or not." Masamune deadpanned.

Ritsu groaned and slumped against Masamume, knowing that he was right. "Maybe I should just test the waters first? It doesn't seem fair to throw all of us in at once."

Masamune hesitated to agree, subconsciously playing with Ritsu's hair. "I want to be there." He said firmly. "I understand you're worried, but like you said, things could go wrong and I want to be there for you if they do."

"You're only one door away." Ritsu said.

"Too far." Masamune insisted, pressing a kiss to Ritsu's forehead.

Ritsu rolled his eyes, trying hard not to smile. "You're absolutely ridiculous."

"Mhm. Besides, I can't charm the hell out of your parents if I'm busy next door worrying about you."

"Oh, is that your plan? To be all cool and suave until they can't possibly reject our relationship?" Ritsu asked sarcastically.

"Yes, exactly."

Ritsu shook his head before he refocused and took a deep breath. "How's this weekend?"

"I can do this weekend." Masamune said.

"I'll invite them to my place for dinner and hopefully it will be totally boring and uneventful and they won't care about us being together at all."

"Yeah, the woman who has hounded you about marriage for over ten years is going to not care about you being in a romantic relationship." Masamune said sarcastically.

Ritsu groaned loudly.

Masamune chuckled. "What about your dad? How do you think he'll react?"

"No idea, which is honestly worse."

"We'll handle it." Masamune promised and sealed it with a kiss.

-

"I can't do this, I think I should call them and cancel, tell them I'm sick." Ritsu said as he and Masamune cooked dinner together. Technically it wouldn't be a lie since Ritsu was feeling pretty nauseous.

Ritsu had spent all day yesterday making sure his apartment was spotless and then earlier today he and Masamune had gone grocery shopping together since Ritsu’s options for dinner had been a little slim.

"Oh, yeah, tell your mom that you're sick, I'm sure that will make her stay away instead of making her want to come over more." Masamune said sarcastically.

"You're no help."

"I thought I was being a lot of help, unless you wanna cut the onions." Masamune said, not looking up from the cutting board where he was working on the veggies.

Ritsu huffed and turned away to sit at the kitchen table, putting his head in his hands. He couldn't do this, he was such an idiot for ever thinking that he could. Introducing his parents to Masamune? He had never even mentioned liking men to them! And now suddenly he was going to announce that he had a boyfriend! There was only one way this could go: badly.

"Hey," Masamune said softly, abandoning his cutting station to sit next to him. "Its gonna be okay."

"You don't know that."

"I know, and honestly I'm kind of freaking out too. I don't think there's anything that could prepare me for meeting your parents. I want them to like me, I want them to think I'm a good fit for you because I know they're always going to be a big part of your life. Even if they can be a little overbearing, they love you, and it would kind of really suck if the people who loved you the most hated me." Masamune said. "But, either way I know that no matter what happens we'll still be together and for me that's enough." Masamune placed a comforting hand on Ritsu's knee.

"Even if my mom spends every single family gathering trying to drive you away? Even if she keeps trying to set me up on blind dates? Or, worse, tries to convince my dad to mess with your work?"

"Ritsu, the only thing your mom could do to keep me away from you is put out a hit on me."

"Don't joke about that."

"Oh come on, your parents don't have that many connections." Masamune said. "...right?"

"I really couldn't tell you."

"Jesus Christ." Masamune said, breathing through a laugh. "Look, the point is; we're gonna be okay."

Ritsu placed his hand on top of Masamune's and gave it a squeeze as he slowly nodded. "Okay...okay." He said. "Let's hurry and finish dinner then. My mom likes to get places early."

Masamune smiled softly and stole a swift kiss before happily helping Ritsu in the kitchen once more.

Eventually, there came a knock at the door. "I'll keep an eye on the food while you go get it." Masamune said. Dinner was just nearly done.

Ritsu swallowed hard and nodded, turning to leave the kitchen.

"Wait." Masamune grabbed his hand and kissed him quickly. "For good luck." He winked.

"Y-You're such an idiot." Ritsu scolded before quickly going to the front door and opening it.

Youko and Tatsuo Onodera stood side by side at Ritsu's door. Youko broke out into a smile and threw her arms around Ritsu before anyone could get a word out.

"H-Hi, mom." Ritsu smiled nervously as he hugged her back. "Hi, dad." He said to Tatsuo over Youko's shoulder as he was still being tightly squeezed.

"You feel skinny." Youko said as soon as she pulled away, pouting at her son. Ritsu was not surprised to be scolded instead of greeted, but he knew his mother meant well.

"Well, its a good thing I've invited you over to eat then. Come in." Ritsu said with a sheepish expression, attempting to play it off.

"It smells good." Tatsuo said.

"Ritsu, don't tell me you've left the food unattended for long." Youko said worriedly as they shuffled toward the kitchen.

"No." Ritsu's hands started to shake. "The foods being watched. Right now. B-by my b-boyfriend."

""Boyfriend?!"" Both Youko and Tatsuo exclaimed.

"How long has this been a thing?" Tatsuo asked.

"Oh...ten years or so..."

"Ten YEARS?!" Youko had heard enough, marching into the kitchen with her husband and son following not far behind.

"M-Mom, wait, maybe we should talk a little more-"

"You." Youko pointed accusingly at Masamune. "Are you my son's so called partner?"

"I am. My name is Takano Masamune, it's nice to-"

"Takano? I'm not familiar with that name. What's your family background?" Youko interrupted.

Masamune blinked, glancing between Ritsu and his parents, a little confused by the question. "Uh, my mother is a lawyer and my step father is a doctor, but I'm not on speaking terms with either of them."

"A boy with a troubled family history? Hardly seems like a good choice for a partner." Youko commented to Ritsu.

"Mother! That's incredibly rude!" Ritsu defended Masamune immediately. What was she even going on about?

"What do you do for a living?" Youko asked Masamune.

Masamune played along with her questions as he didn't know what else to do. "I'm the editor in chief for Marukawa Publishing's shoujo manga department: Emerald."

"Emerald? Onodera Ritsu, do you mean to tell me that you are dating your boss?" Youko said, putting her hands on her hips.

"I've heard about the great things you've done for Emerald, Takano." Tatsuo admitted. "But it does seem to be a conflict of interest to be dating a subordinate."

"I've been in love with him since I was twelve! Way before he ever became my boss!" Ritsu said quickly before a realization dawned on him. "Wait...these are the things you're upset about? His family and his job?"

"They're very important things to consider when picking a partner, Ritsu." Youko said. "You know, if you had told me that you were rejecting all those lovely girls because they were girls I could have been setting you up with perfectly charming and handsome men!" Youko pouted.

Ritsu wanted to laugh. And cry. And hug his mom and kiss Masamune and melt into the floor in total relief.

"I'm sorry, but I'll have to object to any matchmaking sessions." Masamune jumped in.

Youko frowned sternly at him. "Just what exactly makes you worthy of my one and only son?"

"I know I'm not the kind of person that you would normally want for Ritsu, but I love him. I've loved him for over ten years and there's nothing that could ever stop me from loving him. I will always, always take care of him and make him happy and if there ever comes a day that I don't then please feel free to come back and snatch him away from me because just like you I think Ritsu only deserves the best. I will always be loyal, reliable, and honest with him. And, if you'd still like to join us for dinner, I can show you that I'm not completely useless around a kitchen."

Youko did not move, nor did her disapproving expression melt away, but Tatsuo stepped forward to put a hand on his wife's shoulder.

"So, ten years huh? That's a long time. Why don't you tell us how this all started?" He smiled as he ushered his wife to sit down.

Ritsu beamed, tearing up a bit.

"Well, I was in our school's library..."

[flyingcookierambles]

sadness over a3! eng i guess

oof just on my 700th day.....

kinda sad because of the announcement about A3! ENG server shutting down soon due to financial difficulties at LIBER/CYBIRD in the past two years (covid-19 related, etc.). according to a rather in depth reddit comment that had links to LIBER's publicly available financial reports + some financial reports from LIBER's parent company, Aeria, in english, covid-19 really hit LIBER hard since they had to cancel many money making events, from pop-up shops for the typical anime merch trinkets (keychains, plushes, pins, etc.) to the huge in-person events (voice actor meetups, the stage plays of MANKAI LIVE, etc.). due to shrinking player base on the ENG server + major loss of profits on both JPN and ENG servers, LIBER had to choose one or the other and they chose the JPN one, which i totally understand since it's way bigger there and the JPN fanbase will continue to give the franchise money more often. also, another person found a financial report/estimate from the google play store or something, and A3! ENG only made ~$20K to ~$10K in the past few months, which i guess is not enough to keep a server and localization company afloat. 

i got pretty attached to the characters and it was a great game to help get by during college. and honestly, while i am very sad about this, again, i understand why LIBER did this, looking at their financial report from 2020. I would LIBER save the entire franchise rather than shut all the servers down, making us all unable to see our favorite actors ever again, even if it means that we ENG fans will have to go thru the extra steps of finding/reading fan translations, wikis, etc., to read any further stories from where A3! ENG left off. still, A3! ENG's localization was something special. i'm saying this as a TKRB JPN player who read the wiki for all the character voice lines and then had to see the official TKRB ENG localization make Yamabushi Kunihiro a rapper for some reason? lol. it was....weird.... meanwhile, all the memes and slang in A3! ENG didn't seem out of place and all fit their personalities because 3/4 of the troupes were all high school to college age and 3 of them were ~Gamers~. Out of all the gachas i've played, i feel like the only other F2P gacha game that had this incredibly smooth, all cultural jokes/puns translated in a way that still makes sense/fits the character/doesn't require a galaxy brain and some TL note to understand, is probably dragalia lost and that's only because it has frickin Nintendo localizing/publishing it globally for CyGames. Nintendo. i'll eventually read the fan translations of A3!'s Act 3 on the wiki, but it won't be the same without Kazunari's super high-energy influencer slang of "'whoa fam! that's totes 'blammable, gotta take a pic!" or Itaru's gremlin Gamer speak of "lol get rekt noobs" or Tsuzuru's tired dying breath of "that ain't it chief." the appropriate slang and relatable meme speak of the localization really helped humanize these characters as people of their respective ages, rather than just a typical formal speak or some directly translated JPN slang -> ENG that turns out super awkward that can be found in bad localizations.

going back to the reddit comment too, the death of A3! ENG servers could have bad repercussions in the future for other joseimuke games. josei, if you for some reason have been in the anime fandom but still don't know this term, is basically the genre of stories/video games/media/etc aimed at women. it's the mature adult counterpart to seinen, media aimed at adult men. basically shoujo/shonen = elementary/middle school/high school aimed while josei/seinen = high school/college/adult aimed if that helps. Joseimuke is a part of josei that is not specifically romance. while some josei/joseimuke can overlap with otome, aka female aimed dating sims/romance media, they have many things about them that make these all separate genres. one of the official A3! ENG translators and a known fan translator of another joseimuke gacha, Mahou Yaku/Wizard’s Promise, minami, goes more in depth with this in a twitter thread. 

A3! was an actor raising game, and a big part of it was found family and relationships that were platonic. yet it got advertised as an otome, which has more connotations with dating sims and brings to mind other shoujo/otome games and anime where the cast is all high schoolers and the setting is most often in a high school. but, other than some characters making flirty jokes or implied to have crushes on Izumi/player character, many character relationships with Izumi are platonic and not romantic at all. Spring Troupe in the game also jokingly calls themself a family. the entire Mankai Company is basically found family. plus, since the game actually has time passing in story and the characters age with each year, half of the characters aren’t even in high school anymore. a large majority of them are in college or are graduated by now, with only a few still in high school. i’m not surprised if a reason that some people left the game was due to feeling bored with the slice of life/not romantic story, feeling that they were lied to about it being an otome, which was falsely advertised since it is a game meant for the older teens/adults demographic of josei/joseimuke.

i’m worried that other japanese companies will look at this shut down as a “josei/joseimuke doesn’t work well in the west” and never localize other josei/joseimuke gacha games like Mahou Yaku, EnStars, Twisted Wonderland, Helios, etc.

while i like otome and shoujo, i, as a 23/soon to be 24 year old college graduate and now tax paying adult, want more stories that have more mature themes and characters that are more my age so i don’t have to feel awkward when i’m playing some dating sim and i, a literal 23 year old adult, and trying to woo a 16 year old. it’s...a little awkward to say the least. i would gladly welcome more mature media that is categorized as josei/joseimuke.

sorry if this is all over the place, but overall im just sad that A3! ENG is shutting down. i don’t know if i’ll join the JPN server yet. i’m def going to read the Act 3 story via fan translators on the wiki, but A3! gameplay was...boring lmao. as much as i love A3!, im sure that the constant event grind/burnout and boring rng gameplay turned people off too and i dont blame them. i felt the burnout bad since i participated in basically every event since day 1. it. is. rough. i’m not joining the hellish thunderdome that is the JPN server and im not ranking anymore as a F2P player lmao. literally had to play almost every waking free moment to get into the 30%-20% bracket as a F2P person and i never got to top 20%-10%, much less top 1% lmao. i’m don’t whale enough lol. 

i feel like i should probably just. crack open my genki 2 textbook and uhhh totally legal pdf copy of tobira. so i can just. get the JPN version of games in the first place so i don’t have to worry about getting shafted since overseas fans are often considered expendable. 

i wish that, when any games that are online end, gacha or mmo or anything, anything online, companies will let fans archive things. or like. release a book that is just the story text or something. like. CYBIRD is letting us still technically play the game and have the story and all, but what if they eventually later shut everything down? why not just release a pdf/ebook that’s just the text of the eng localization for some money? i’d buy it. for nostalgia and rereads and all and also archiving purposes. i think i’ll try to help with any english localization archive projects if i can so that the hilarious and incredible localization that was a work of love from the translation team doesn’t just disappear forever.

well.

that’s it for now. as i said, guess i’ll head to the app for one of the last times to read the last unread stories and mini stories i have left, then the wiki for Act 3, and then i guess i’ll crack open genki 2 and bunpo.....

some fun random links for you to think about!

random ffxi article that came to mind (if ffxiv ever shuts down in the next 20 years or whatever i’d be cool to get a statue of my character at the end)

and death of a game playlist by NerdSlayer Studios on Youtube that has me thinking a lot about game preservation and losing MMOs and games

the lost media wiki  and blameitonjorge’s lost media iceberg

other gacha games i’ve played that have shut down that i think about sometimes because the loss of A3! ENG isn’t my first rodeo:

terra battle & terra battle 2 (1)

AFTERL!FE

(related kitsu post link for archive reasons)

[takoyakitenchou]

masquerade ch.8

7? idk but this one isn’t on ff or ao3 yet i think

12:58 PM Nakiri Erina: Hi, it’s been a while. Are you free the day after tomorrow?

1:03 PM Yukihira Souma: how’d u get this #?

1:04 PM Nakiri Erina: Alice gave it to me. 

1:04 PM Yukihira Souma: sup

1:05 PM Nakiri Erina: I’m opening Kiralyno Haza. It’s not like I want you to show up or anything.

message opened

1:37 PM Nakiri Erina: Hello?

2:40 PM Yukihira Souma: hey sorry i just got on break. congrats nakiri!

2:41 PM Nakiri Erina: It was expected.

2:41 PM Yukihira Souma: surprised it took you so long to open. hurry up and get your 3 stars bubs then we’ll really see who’s the better chef

2:41 PM Yukihira Souma: and did you get tired of shinomiya or did he get tired of you?

2:42 PM Nakiri Erina: I got tired of him. Duh. Are you not coming?

2:42 PM Yukihira Souma: save 4 seats for me. i’ll be a balloon by the time im done w your food also i hope you have enough ingredients for a shokugeki after

“Ugh. You’re as shit at texting as ever,” Erina groaned, throwing down her phone, but then she picked it up again to stare at those four particular characters. Bubs. God, it had been so long since she’d seen that in her messages.

(under the cut to see souma and erina start to get their shit together lol)

To think that she had been the one to break the radio silence between them — good lord, that was fucking annoying. It was weird to think about. There had been plenty of opportunities for them to talk again, and yet they’d somehow managed to evade each other since they’d run into each other at Nakiri Mansion. Whether this was coincidence she had no idea, but Souma hadn’t been at the official Totsuki-sponsored 92nd gen alumni reunion, and Shinomiya had dragged Erina to some culinary conference that made her miss the freshman training camp where Souma threatened the living shits out of the poor first years but ended up not cutting anybody from the roster.

Erina had done her best not to linger on the fact that she had had to ask Alice for Souma’s new number, but goddamn would that remain at the forefront of her mind for the week following Kiralyno Haza’s debut until she got frustrated enough to the point where she damn near chucked her own phone out the window.

It was thanks to Alice that her condo was still in one piece.

The COO of the Nakiri-Totsuki Group was sitting next to her at a bar in Budapest, helping herself to her third shot of tequila, a few empty glasses and a growing tab between them. “Yukihira’s coming?”

Erina nodded, smiling despite herself. “Yeah. I guess he is.”

Taking sudden interest in her drink, Alice remained silent for a thoughtful moment before she said, “I haven’t seen you this happy since you two broke up.”

With a half-hearted huff, Erina scoffed, “Yeah, right.”

Alice gave her a long look. “I’m not kidding, Erina. Who was that other guy you were seeing? Darren?”

“Aaron. Darren was before him.”

“Doesn’t he have a 3000-seater concert hall named after him?”

“I couldn’t care less.” Erina said, and Alice knew it was 593% true. 

Whenever tolerating a guy got tedious, Erina had extinguished whatever spark he thought he had ignited, pretended to be hung up on it, and started over, systematically breaking hearts left and right, all the while building titanium defenses around her own.

And then, a year and half ago, she’d seen Yukihira Souma at Nakiri Mansion, and everything had changed. 

So. Much. Pining. Alice was more than a few years past sick of how long those two idiots were dragging their shit out.

Erina picked up her belongings. “We should probably stop day-drinking.”

“Sure,” Alice said, paying the tab before Erina could get her wallet out.

“I’ll pay you back for that,” Erina promised as they left the bar.

Alice put a hand on Erina’s shoulder. “You can pay me back by not fucking up your confession again.”

At this, Erina frowned. A withering counter should’ve been second nature, but she found herself incapable. She wanted to believe that whatever piece of her heart that had clung to the hope that Yukihira Souma would come back to her was nothing more than a memory. More than anything, she wished the voice at the back of her head telling her to move on and forget him and their past would finally win out, because there were people in her present waiting for her, and it would be a sin to ignore that.

But she couldn’t say the words; her heart belonged to Yukihira Souma — would always belong to him — and all broken promises and relationships notwithstanding, that was something she could not deny.

-

Although Souma technically hadn’t been invited to the kitchen for shift drinks when the front doors closed, he had taken the liberty of bringing a bottle of cab sauv that he and Erina finished in like ten seconds flat, to hell with sharing with staff, family, and friends.

The second she felt the words wanna come over? slip out of her atmosphere-drunk mouth, she knew it was going to take more self-control than she had not to demand he stay with her forever. 

“So, Yukihira,” she said like they hadn’t been catching up for the last two hours when they were sitting on the couch in her living room with pinot noir. “How’ve you been?”

The corners of Souma’s lips twitched. “Not bad,” he replied. “Mostly cooking. A few interviews and shit. I’ve been keeping up with all your stuff, by the way. Three tastings in twelve hours next Monday seems like too much, Nakiri.”

Erina frowned. “Even if you were as talented a stalker as Mimasaka Subaru, how the fuck would you know that?”

He held up his phone. “You were signed into my calendar app when I last downloaded a backup copy four years ago. So every time I get a new phone, I transfer all the old data.”

Erina stared at him, horrified. “Holy shit. You’ve seen everything?”

Shrugging, Souma said, “Not everything. Just… your dates with Darren. And Aaron. Also, I knew about Kiralyno opening before you texted me so I’d already cleared out my schedule by then.”

Erina had stopped listening halfway through. “Wait, Yukihira…”

“It’s okay, Nakiri.” Souma waved it off. “You’re here with me now. All that matters. Let’s not look too far into our past, yeah?”

“Don’t look into my future either, idiot! Sign out of my Google calendar right now!”

Souma shook his head seriously. “Sorry, Nakiri, I don’t think that’s possible.”

“Why the fuck not?”

He gazed at her intently and rested his chin on his fist. “I need to make sure I’ll still be in it.”

Erina rolled her eyes. “Don’t say sappy shit like that. It doesn’t suit you.”

“What if I just stayed?” he asked.

She sighed. “I think the question is, would I even let you? I thought we’re putting the past behind us? Don’t you want this back?” She pointed at the white cloth she was wearing on her wrist. His white cloth.

Souma ignored the second question and pulled Erina to him by her waist, close enough that she could feel his warm breath as he spoke, forehead brushing hers. “Another thing we both know is that you and I could never be just friends.”

“Take your hands off me or I swear I’m either going to spill my wine or kiss you, and I seriously do not care which.”

He leaned back with a sad smile. “You wouldn’t let me stay, would you, Nakiri?”

“I couldn’t,” she said helplessly. “We don’t even know where our lines are.”

“Do we need lines?” Souma asked, finishing his glass and balancing it on his knee. “You and I are beyond this dimension.”

Erina stared at him, memorizing every last square centimeter of his features — the way his hair seemed to get shorter every time they met until he somewhat resembled someone of his culinary pedigree; the way the creases formed on his sleeves along the contours of his toned arms.

“You know, Nakiri, if you let me stay, you wouldn’t have to stare so much.”

She tore her gaze from his collarbone, her whole face turning red. In all her twenty-one years, that had to be the most embarrassing moment of her life. “Shut up! I’m not staring!”

He was watching her with wistful eyes. “I wouldn’t mind if you were…” 

And they both heard it.

I wouldn’t mind if you were mine.

[xmalereader]

Agent Whiskey X Male Reader

-

|| Masterlist ||

-

Summary: A new agents comes into the statements, but he’s no ordinary guy. He used to work for the kingsmen of japan before being transferred to work in the states with the others, but this guy is a whole different story and a ver complicated past.

Warnings: Slight gore, language, whiskey being a cerious little shit, flirting, advanced tech, Japanese, slight angst.

-

-

His eyes twitch in irritation, blinking softly he shakes his head as he tries to shake away the dizziness. Blinking again he looks around to see a few screen pop up, giving him information about his conditions. After years of having these eyes he was still getting used to them, the techniology was advanced—way too advanced. But yet again, Japan was always ahead of its time.

He’s been living in japan under a secret organization that saved his life at a very young age. He was twenty-one when he lost his eyes, he had gotten himself into some trouble with some very bad people which ended things in a bloody fight, getting mixed up with the wrong people all because of some money that he needed for himself, he was a homeless guy who was doing whatever he could to survive—even if it meant stealing.

That night he thought it was a good idea to steal some money from a small Gang that lived down his street but in the end he ends up losing his eyes. He remembers clearly that night as they stabbed his eyes out, causing him to go blind and to bleed out. He thought he was going to die in the dark alley all alone.

He thought that he had officially died that night, only to wake up in darkness, not being able to see anything but he was able to hear the sound of mumbling in a foreign language. That same day he was taken in by the leader of a small secret service that helped assist the government in activities that they coulnd’t handle. He was given new eyes that opporated like a computer, giving him the ability to see everything and everyone, with just one glance he could easily get a persons identity information. He was one of their secret weapons and it took him years to master the tech before he could officially become a member of the secret service.

That all happened ten years ago; now as a secret agent he was being sent off to the states to work alongside the statemens. He’s heard about the many different organizations that were around the world and how they were all clsoe allies. Y/n was still getting used to the idea of having allies around the place, the last time he trusted someone he almost ended up dead.

So, he had soem trust issues.

He arrived at the states not to long ago since he was sitting in his hotel room, trying to gather his thoughts and make sure that his eyes were functioning well before he leaves his room to meet up with these new people of his. He wasn’t one for socializing, he liked keeping himself closed and far away from new people but, today he was going to have to change his standers a little bit and speak to these people in order to work with them.

He arrives at the statesmen building in less than a few minutes, taking the elevator up to the top floor he begins to fidget in his spot, slowly growing nervous as the floor number gets higher.

“Fuzakeru no o yameru.”

Stop fidgeting

He tells himself as he hears the elevator come to a stop and the doors sliding open, suddenly being greeted by a young women in glasses. “Welcome Agent Hiro, I hope you didn’t get lost on the way.” She says with a small smile. Y/n smiles back in return. “I found my way around just fine.” He answers back, noticing a surprised look on her face. “Your English sounds amazing!”

He blushes a little and chuckles nervously. “I was actually born in the states before I moved to Japan.” He explains, earning a nod in return as she clears her throat. “Right, anyway—I’m agent Ginger, I control the systems and help around with the tech.”

“So, you’re mainly in charge of everything?” He asks with a raised brow, giving her a small smile.

Ginger chuckles. “No, but I would like to be in the field one of these days.” Y/n hums while nodding. “Don’t worry, you’ll get their soon.” He reassures her, with a small pat to the back as the two enter the main hall where the rest of the agents sat on a long table, wearing glasses to be able to see the rest of the agents that were working around the world.

“Gentlemen meet Agent Hiro, he’ll be working with us for the next couple of days.” Said ginger as she introduces him to the rest of the team. Y/n gives a small nod at the others, properly looking at them as he scans them, bringing up there files and any other information about them.

“I’m Champagne and these are Agent Whiskey and Tequila—you already met ginger.” Said the older man who sat at the end of the table, his accent heavy as Y/n gives the other agents a nod. “Im sure you already know who I am—but again, I’m Agent Hiro and I’m coming from kingsmen in japan.” He says to the others, standing in front of the chair since he was too damn tired to even sit since he’s been sitting all day.

“We’ve heard a lot about you.” He hears Agent whiskey says as he grins at him, leaning forward with his arms crossed over his chest, he was eyeing y/n carefully and chuckles. “They told us you wer special.”

“Did they tell you why?”

Whiskey shrugs, “They just said that you were special and probably one of their most important Agents.” He added, leaning back on his chair as they all wait for an explanation. Y/n bites his lip and sighs in defeat, instead of explaining himself he decides to show them.

Standing up straight he glances to his left to see a file being pulled up about Agent whiskey, giving him all of the information that he needed.

“Agent Whiskey, also known as Jack Daniels—“ He scoffs at the name, of course he would be named after an alcoholic beverage. “You were born in Kentucky, 1970 and you are a fourty year old man who became an agent a couple of years ago because of your high school sweetheart—“ he frowns at the deceased named. “Your wife was pregnant and died in an accident, causing you to join the statesman in order to help those who need helping.” He continues to read out loud, giving whiskey his whole background without blinking.

“How do you know all that?” Tequila asks this time.

“He must’ve read about us before coming here.” Said Whiskey.

“Actually, our files aren’t meant to be shared unless necessary. We usually have it all locked away since it can easily get into the hands of an enemy and that’s something that we don’t want to deal with.” Said Ginger as she adjusts her glasses, looking over to Y/n. “So, how did you know all of that?”

Y/n points over to the screen tv, showing an image of ginger. He turns around to face the others, an image of them showing up too.

“Your eyes.” Ginger whispers out, finally putting the pieces together. “Are you wearing some kind of special contract lens?” She asks, eager to know about this technology. Y/n chuckels and shakes his head. “Its my actually eyes.”

“Wait, so your eyes are like—what? Tech?”

“Yep.”

Everyone stares at him in shock, not believing him. “How is that possible?” Ginger approaches Y/n and looks into his eyes not finding anything unordinary about them. “They look so real.” She whispers.

“Ginger he’s getting uncomfortable.” Said whiskey, causing her to pull away and apologize quietly. “These eyes of yours, how do they work?” He adds, cocking his head to the side. “My eyes are like a computer, I can bring up anything of anyone. I actually scanned you guys when I entered the room, adding your names into my files in case I ever need to bring it up for something.” He shrugs but continues explaining. “I can hack into systems with just a single thought and can also show people my perspective—“ he points to the screen. “just like I showed you awhile ago.”

Tequila plays with his empty cup, raising a hand he asks a question. “These eyes of yours, can they be hacked into?”

“No, its impossible since a chip is technically installed into my brain but it can damage my memories if not used properly. Also, before I was left into the field I was trained on how to use them first and there were times when I lost my temper that my own leader had to shut me down, meaning that I would loose my eye sight for a short period of time.”

“That sounds cruel.” It was whiskey this time. “It may sound cruel but that’s how I learned, I managed to go through with it and was suddenly given the freedom to do as I liked. It took them awhile to trust me with this tech, believe me I didn’t even trust myself with it.” He said, sighing through his nose.

The rest of the agents were taking in the explanation, wanting got make sure that they were ready for anything but of course y/n wasn’t one to easily go rouge and even if he did his own team could easily track him down and bring him back home where his own leader could give him a lesson for trying to do something ruthless, but that’ll never happen, why run away when he already had a home and a family to go to?

“Thank you for explaining, Agent Hiro. At least we now have a hint of what you can do.” Said champagne as he pours hismelf a drink. “Since you will be staying here for the next couple of days, its best that you get to know your partner.”

“Partner?” Y/n questions.

“Yes, you and Agent Whiskey will be working together during missions, so try not to kill each other.” The older man chuckles out as he sits back in his chair.

“Kuso.”

Fuck

He had no problem with having a partner, hell he had three back at his own base! But having to work with Agent Whiskey gave him a worked vibe, already knowing that the two won’t get along at all. “I’ll try not to.” He mutters out as they are dismissed by Champagne. The room slowly clears out, Y/n walks out into the hallway and looks around, wanting to explore the area and get to know it better in case he is ever needed anywhere else.

“Agent Hiro.”

Y/n looks over his shoulder to see whiskey approaching him with a grin on a face, he didn’t like that look. “Tell me more about yourself, darling.” He glares at whiskey and rolls his eyes. “ Theirs nothing interesting about me.” He blurts out and begins to walk forward, looking up and down as he scans a few rooms. “See now that isn’t fair, you got to know alot about me which only makes it fair if I knew a little bit about you.” Sighing in defeat he asks. “What do you want to know?”

“What happened to your eyes?”

Y/n’s body goes stiff as he frowns. “Anything but that.” He growls out, trying to hold back his anger. He didn’t like telling people about his past and especially about his own eyes and how he lost them, it was a memory that he didn’t want to remember.

Whiskey raised his hands in defense, backing up a bit. “easy, ill ask something a little less personal.” Y/n narrows his eyes at him but simply nods, continuing down the hall where he finds the lab room and with ginger sitting in front of her computer screen, typing away.

“Agent Ginger.” He kindly says, gaining the women’s attention as she spins in her chair to face him. “Agent Hiro, What brings you here?”

“Just exploring the place, want to get to know it better in case I am needed in a different room.” He explains, approaching a cabinet full of jars. “Okay, how about you living in japan, what’s that like?” Y/n mentally groans as he rolls his eyes. “I can see that whiskey is being annoying as ever—“

“Hey!”

“—has he started his flirting already?” She asks.

“Yes, is that a normal thing that he does?” Y/n asks as the two agents ignore whiskey who was standing in the same room as them. “He does it all the time, you’ll get used to it.” She spins back to face her computer.

Y/n hums. “To answer your question Whiskey, Japan is my number one home. Even though I was born in the states I would prefer the craziness back in japan.” He turns around to see whiskey sitting on top of an exam table, smirking at him. He opens his mouth to ask something else but is interrupt by y/n groaning, clutching the side of his head as his vision begins to crack up. “Hiro?” He hears the agents faint voices as he tries to focus on repairing his vision.

This wasn’t the first time that his eyes have functioned this way, he just has to get used to the feeling of finally being free. It takes him awhile to repair the situation before holding a hand up to the other agents, “I’m okay just a small malfunction.” He blinks a couple of times as he gains his vision back, a screen appearing in front of him as it reboots the system.

“Does this happen often?” Whiskey asks as he helps y/n sit down on a chair. “Sometimes, I’m still getting used to the fact of having my freedom.” He rubs his temples with a groan. “Freedom?” He looks up at whiskey and sighs. “The one in charge of the tech—kind of like ginger, was the one who controlled my eyesight. They gave me the ability to not only see but to do other things that were considered impossible.” Ginger hands him a cup of water as he thanks her softly and takes a small sip. “You were technically there little Guinea pig.”

He shakes his head no, setting his cup down in the table. “It was there first time using this technology and they wanted to keep me safe in case anything were to happen to me, I wasn’t a prisoner and I surely wasn’t treated differently.” He shot back, giving whiskey a glare.

He didn’t take kindly to people who spoke bad about his own family that saved his life and had given him a home.

“I was given my own freedom five years ago, but I’m still adjusting to the feeling so it’s strange for me to control it on my own.” He looks down and rubs his eyes, letting out a deep breath as he feels whiskey shift in his spot.

His hands were on his hips as he eyes y/n up and down.

Y/n lifts his head up and straightened up. “I’m used to the malfunctions, once I return I’ll have Misun check them out.” He stands up from the chair and stumbles a little, whiskey reaches out to help him but he quickly holds a hand out to stop him. “I’m fine.” He hissed out as he holds himself against the table.

“You a really tough partner.” Whiskey says.

“And your annoying.” Y/n barks back but that only get him a laugh from whiskey. “Looks like me and you are going to have a lot of fun together.” He adds.

Y/n groans and whines. “Ie ni kaeritai.”

I want to go home.

—

“I’ve scanned everyone in the lobby, I have the information we need so we’re good to go.” Y/n says through his ear piece as he walks around the lobby, giving people friendly smiles as he passes by.

“Did you get our guy?” He hears whiskey says through the ear piece as he sat on the other side of the lobby, pretending to read a book as he glanced up every once an awhile to spy on their guy.

Y/n sits at a bad, acting natural as the bartender hands him a drink. “Yes but I’m having difficulties with his files—“

“What you mean?”

“What I mean is that his files are locked, can’t see them unless they are unlocked.”

He hears whiskey sigh. “Can’t you unlock it?”

“Nōtarin,” Dumbass. “It’s not easy to hack into something like this, it’ll take me time and that’s something we don’t have so will have to make due with little information that we have about him.” He mutters out, sliding out of his seat as he leaves the bar and begins to make his way upstairs where a second lobby was located.

“Fuck.” Whiskey slams his book shut and sets it on the table, heading towards y/n’s direction. The two meet up on the second floor, with y/n leaning back on a wall with crossed arms. “Now what?”

Whiskey walks towards the balcony, looking downstairs he spots their guy. “How long does the hacking take?” He was still staring down at their guy as y/n pushes hismelf off the wall and walks over to stand next to whiskey. “A couple of hours, give or take. Unless you want me to send this information to ginger?”

“No, we are to handle this alone without gingers help.”

Y/n leans against the rail as he too looks below them. “We either wait until tomorrow to get him or we do it all now.” He mumbles out, turning his head to the side to look at whiskey, waiting for his confirmation since he was the one in charge of this mission.

Whiskey is silent, giving hismelf time to think. “We do it now. We need all the information we can get before we continue on.” Y/n nods in agreement as he walks towards the stairs. “Where are you going?”

“To finish the job, so you stay here and be a pretty little cowboy and let me handle the rest.” He sends him a wink while walking down the stairs and back down to the first floor, he could feel whiskeys eyes on him as he makes his way over to gang. Acting casually he noticed a waiter walking towards him, holding a tray of drinks. As he passes by, y/n is able to snatch a drink, walking over to the gang leader he pretend to trip over his own footing, causing the drink to slip from his hands and to land all over the man, causing their target to stand up in surprise and anger.

“Nantekotta, gomen'nasai!” Oh my god I am so sorry!

He rambles out in Japanese, grabbing something napkins as he tries to pat down the man but only got shouted at. The man tried to shove him away but he stands his ground, continuing on with his rambling, as the two are distracted he is able to snatch his room keycard from his pocket. Smirking to hismelf he steps away from the man and bows in apology before making his way back upstairs.

“What was that?!” Whiskey nearly shouts out, getting ready to throw a fit until y/n pulls out the keycard to show whiskey. Giving him a smirk, “told you I could handle it.” Whiskey snatches the keycard from him. “Come on.”

Y/n follows whiskey towards the elevator. “Is that graditued?” He teases while whiskey ignores him and scoffs, the two entering the elevator as they head up the sixth floor where the room was located at, it didn’t take them long to locate the room. Unlocking it and entering inside they quietly looked around.

“We should hurry before he finds out that his card key is missing.” Said y/n.

“Right, you check the main rooms and I’ll do the living room. See if you can find anything important about this guy.” Whiskey instructs as the two head into separate directions.

Y/n enters the bedroom and scans it, not finding anything in the closet or under the bed, huffing in annoyance he looks over to the cabinets where he picks up a safe, hidden behind some clothes.

He walks over to the cabinets and moves the clothes to the side where he sees the large safe sitting on the corner. He scans the buttons, seeing light fingerprints he smirks and types in the code. Hearing the safe click open he pulls it open to see a case inside, “Whiskey, come check this out.” He calls out as he pops open the case to reveal many different documents and plans.

Whiskey enters the room to see the case open and full of documents. “Looks like our little friend here is planning something pretty important.” He says as he takes some blueprints.

“I’ll scan everything and send it to ginger, see if she knows what any of this could mean.” He flips through various pages as his eyes scan everything, downloading all of the information that he can before a second screen pops up to show him the security footage.

“Shit we have to go.” Y/n stuffs the documents back inside the case as whiskey helps him out, putting the case back inside the safe and closing it up, he makes sure to put the clothes back in its usual spot. “Lets go.” The two rush out of there and head towards the elevators, the two were alone as they feel the elevator moving down.

Y/n checks the camera every once in awhile, he noticed them approaching the second floor where their target was waiting for the elevator. Thinking of a quick idea he grabs whiskeys arm. “Kiss me”.

“What—“

“People get uncomfortable when they around couples who kiss.” He says quickly as he hears the elevator come to a stop, as the doors open to the second floor he pulls whiskey into a kiss, wrapping an arm around his neck as he feels whiskey kissing him back in return.

Their target cringes at the couple and groans, stepping away from the elevator as he decides to wait for the second elevator.

The doors slowly close on the kissing couple.

Y/n was too distracted to even notice the feeling of the elevator moving, the two were still kissing, whiskey had placed his hands on his hips as he pulls him close, licking his lips as y/n lets out a small breathy moan.

He’s the first to pull away, clearing his throat as he licks his own lips and looks away. Avoiding whiskeys cheeky grin, “Don’t Shy away from me darling.” He feels whiskey wrap an arm around his waist and pin him against the elevator wall.

Y/n gives him a soft glare. “Not now.”

“Later?”

He groans and shakes his head. “Maybe.” He mumbles out as whiskey let’s him go. The elevator arrives in the lobby as the two exit the hotel in silence, approaching their car as y/n gets in the passenger seat. He takes the time to go through all the data that they have collected before placing them in a file and sending it to ginger. “I sent all the information to ginger so by the time we arrive to base she’ll have an explanation to the blue prints.” He tells whiskey.

“Does that give us time to finish what we start?” Whiskey wiggles his brows as he drives the car.

Y/n groans. “Baka.” Idiot.

“Sorry darling but I don’t understand, Japanese.”

“Good, that way I can keep insulting you in front of your face.” Y/n gives him a sweet fake smile as he turns his attention back to the road.

“Maybe you can continue speaking like that while you scream my name out tonight.” Y/n’s face heats up at whiskeys words. He leans his head back as he stares at the ceiling.

“Watashi wa nani ni muchū ni narimashita ka?”

What did I get myself into?

[thespianbooks]

A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 5//

(Chapter 1) (Chapter 2) (Chapter 3) (Chapter 4) (Chapter 5) (Chapter 6) (Chapter 7) (Chapter 8) (Chapter 9) (Chapter 10)

(Tags: @thron3ofbooks @df3ndyr @courtofjurdan @art-e-mis @herondamnn @the-third-me @im-still-trying-here @emikadreams @paytin77)

It was all I could do to keep from bursting into joyous tears as Madja announced that I was ten weeks along in my pregnancy. Upon revealing that my suspicions were true, she completed a thorough examination. She determined that since I was in the early stages, that was the cause of lingering sickness and fatigue. Unfortunately, those symptoms would continue until I was about halfway along; where most females felt the best and most of the unlikeable symptoms eased a bit. I was also surprised to learn that a fae pregnancy lasts five weeks longer than a human’s, but it made sense on a larger scale. As powerful immortal beings, we needed more time in the womb to develop.

After her examination, she prescribed a few prenatal herbal teas that I would need to drink in order to aid in the baby’s growth. I smiled at the word, brushing my fingertips along my abdomen again—knowing this would become a new habit for me, and for Rhys. A baby, our baby, growing strong inside of me as Madja promised. He would be as strong as his father, the most powerful High Lord in Prythian, and with my powers combined…

My smile faltered as I realized what this meant.

Years ago, Rhys confided in me about his concern over any potential offspring he might have, afraid they would be hunted and sought after by his enemies. If his children inherited his abilities alone, they would be just as powerful. What did that threat mean now with my blood mixed in?

Cursebreaker. Cauldron-blessed. The first ever High Lady in Prythian, who inherited a drop of power from all seven of the High Lords after being resurrected.

What powers would my child inherit from me? Combined with Rhys’s, our child’s strength would surpass both of ours alone; which meant the same for all the other High Lords of Prythian. We had alliances now, but how many of those would change after they learned about my son? After they saw a fraction of their power in him, in combination with Rhysand’s? My mind began to race and breathing became difficult as I looked down at my stomach, my fingers gripping my tunic in panic. Would he be in danger? Who were we close enough with to know that they would never consider such a thing? What if they came after him before he was born? Would they target me? I had to do something, but what if there was nothing I could do?

I had to protect him—my baby.

Protect, protect, protect.

“My lady,” a gentle voice interrupted the rising chaos in my mind, even gentler hands gripping my shoulders and I saw the healer’s dark eyes meet mine as she leveled a look at me.

I became aware of my ragged breathing, hunched back and tense shoulders, trembling. Her delicate, wrinkled hands moved from my shoulders to either side of my face. A blue aura illuminated those hands as they touched my face, and slowly I calmed. Slowly, my shoulders relaxed and I slid my eyes closed as my breaths evened out, a few tears escaping past my lids.

After a few seconds of that peace, Madja slowly let go of my face and straightened, “You mustn’t be afraid, my lady. Your child will be a very powerful high fae, but you are surrounded by friends—family. The uncertainty the future brings may be frightening, but there is also joy in it,” she said gently as she handed me a handkerchief. “That is what you must focus on right now. The joy in a healthy and developing baby.”

I sniffed as I dabbed at my eyes, nodding in agreement “Thank you Madja. I just felt so overwhelmed for a minute,” I lamented.

“Oh, I see this reaction more often than you would believe. First time mothers have many fears, and you will be no different. Just remember the joy in it,” she reassured.

She was right, I couldn’t allow the fear to consume me. I wouldn’t let it control me or take away from this moment of happiness. This baby, our son, was a miracle. Fae children were difficult to conceive, but Rhys and I had done it. We were going to have a baby; over half a millennia later one would be born into the Night Court’s ruling family—my family. He would be cherished by our Inner Circle, and loved by the people of Velaris; just as they loved Rhys. My heart swelled as I pictured what the moment of joy would look like on his face when I told him; how those violet eyes would brighten and sparkle like the stars and how he would grin. I wanted to paint that moment more than anything, and now after a decade of waiting, I finally would.

“Shall I call the High Lord in for the good news?” she asked as she began packing up her bag of supplies.

“Oh no, please don’t tell him yet,” I urged and she raised an amused brow at me as I flushed, “I want to surprise him...tomorrow at Starfall.”

She nodded her understanding, “I see,” she said as she finished packing and grabbed my hands, squeezing them lightly. “The High Lord will be thrilled, my lady,” she said, and the genuine delight in her voice caused my eyes to burn.

She laughed heartily at the silver lining my eyes, “Expect more of that. Your hormones will cause plenty of surges in your emotions,” she explained empathetically.

I grimaced, “In other words, I’ll be an emotional mess.”

She laughed again and patted my hands, “All completely normal. For now, drink that brew of herbs I gave you three times a day, get plenty of rest, and I will be back next week to check your progress.”

I nodded and walked her to the door of my bedroom, “Thank you Madja,” I said.

“You’re welcome my lady,” she said sweetly before leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I touched my stomach tentatively, knowing underneath layers of skin and muscle my child was growing—safely. He was finally real; a manifestation of the love Rhys and I had for each other. So far, only the healer and I knew of his existence, and soon Rhysand would know as well. For the moment, I caressed my still flat stomach and cherished this little time we had alone.

XXX

The hours leading up to our Starfall celebration would be torturous.

Once I emerged from my room and the healer left, everyone was eager to hear her diagnosis of my condition. I did my best to reassure them all that I was perfectly fine, and simply needed more time to recover from my previous illness. Not a complete lie, but I knew they were all unconvinced—especially my mate. I immediately knew that keeping up a façade would be difficult, but luckily, I had plenty of experience with masks of deception. Years in the Night Court with occasional appearances in the Court of Nightmares, and serving as High Lady would certainly assist me in hiding my pregnancy for at least the next twenty-four hours or so.

Later, after we turned in for the night, Rhys begged for a detailed account of Madja’s official diagnosis. I again had to convince him that I was all right, which was technically true. I was pregnant, not sick; so aside from my body working hard to grow a high fae baby, I was fine. An hour into him trying to pry me for more information, I finally managed to silence him by pushing him onto the bed and straddling his hips. This morning however, was more of a struggle. Madja warned me that the fatigue would linger throughout the next several months of my pregnancy, but I soon realized it was going to be an uphill battle to force myself from bed, let alone try and convince my mate that I was still on the road to recovery.

Thankfully, Starfall was finally here; one of our rare days off, and I could use it to my advantage. It had been a while since we spent a day alone together; in the weeks that followed since his return from the Illyrian mountains, we fell back into our regular routine with our schedules as High Lord and Lady. Despite our initial reunion and the brief mating frenzy renewed, which caused us to sneak away from time to time throughout the day, we still attended to our responsibilities. But today was our holiday, and a year from now our child would be here to celebrate his first Starfall. Soon it would no longer be just the two of us, my sisters and our Inner Circle; soon there would be an infant for us to raise and love, so I wanted to continue to take advantage of our time alone while we still had it.

I convinced Rhys to let us spend the morning in bed together, where we took our time worshipping each other's bodies, ate a hearty breakfast and lounged together well into the afternoon. By lunchtime, I felt my energy renew and we enjoyed our lunch in the gardens before we parted to finalize last minute details for the party. Traditionally, that meant Mor and I attended to any directions Elain might have for us and the Illyrians did...well whatever they liked to do before a party.

“They’re probably at Rita’s right now having drinks,” Mor wondered aloud as she and I rearranged the refreshments table in the grand hall.

I stepped back to review my work, and shrugged, “Maybe, but there’s plenty of drinks here, so that doesn’t make much sense,” I reasoned.

“Neither does ‘I’m getting over a cold, I promise,’” she mocked.

I glared at her, but she threw her head back with a laugh, “Don’t look so serious Feyre, whatever secret you have is safe with me.”

I bristled, moving to fuss with a flower arrangement by the table, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said as casually as I could.

“I’ve been keeping a secret for most of my existence, Feyre, I think that makes me an expert,” she said.

I paused and looked her way, “Mor-” I began but she held a hand up to stop me.

“Like I said, it's safe with me,” she said and a look of understanding silently passed between us before she turned to the next task Elain set out for her.

Maybe she did already know, and maybe she didn’t. Either way, I believed that she wouldn’t reveal it to Rhys or anyone else for that matter. I took a step back again to examine the room, happy with the decorations Elain meticulously had installed every year. Sparkling bowls of fae lights lit the room in a warm glow, allowing the white marble floors and moonstone columns to illuminate naturally. The delicate chiffon curtains adorning the windowless arched walls were decorated with tiny sparkles of fae light, a design Elain created herself, and accentuated the varying shades of cream, ivory and silver flower arrangements spread out throughout the room. They framed the horizon perfectly and opened up to the expansive veranda that led right into the gardens, allowing guests to move in and out of the estate easily and a perfect view of the spirits' journey across the night sky as we all danced. It was initially my idea to host the people of Velaris in the grand hall, remembering that these were the kind of memories I wanted to make in our new home.

I touched my stomach briefly when Mor wasn’t looking. What would he look like in a year? He would be too small to run around and try to disturb any decorations, so perhaps I would walk him around the estate and show off all the adornments before Rhys and I would put him to bed. We’d no doubt be exhausted, but happy. Maybe we’d celebrate Starfall privately in our suite, just the three of us. I felt that glimmer in the pit of my stomach and I smiled. Would you like that, little one? I thought to myself, wondering if he could hear me.

“It’s perfect!” Elain cheered as she and Nesta walked into the room.

I quickly moved my hand from my stomach as I turned to face them, but not fast enough for Nesta not to take notice. Thankfully, she only raised a perfectly arched brow at me, “Shouldn’t you be getting ready? Your guests will be arriving shortly,” she reminded me.

I nodded, “I was just about to leave,” I said as I looked over their attire.

Elain wore a delicate soft pink strapless A-line gown with a glitter ombre falling from her bust line down to the floor; a braid crowning the top of her head with the rest of her hair flowing just past her shoulders. Nesta, as conservative as ever, wore a long-sleeved gown in a similar fashion, only in a deep violet with a more subtle glittering effect. Her hair was pulled back in a loosely braided bun, a few loose strands of curls framing her face. Despite her controlled face and aloof attitude, I was glad Nesta still joined us after Cassian all but dragged her here for our first celebration in the estate years ago.

“Nuala and Cerridwen are waiting for you in your suite, Feyre. You go get dressed, and I’ll greet everyone, don’t worry,” Elain said sweetly, brushing her hands over her gown when she realized I was looking, silently asking for my approval.

“Just as she does every year,” Nesta interjected as I offered Elain a nod of assent.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and began walking out, “I’ll be back with Rhys before it starts,” I said and made my way back up to my suite.

As Nuala and Cerridwen began my dressing routine, I began to play different scenarios of the speech I would give Rhys when I announced my pregnancy. Only to realize I didn’t really have a speech at all, and began scrambling for one. As memorable as I wanted this moment to be, I was sincerely lacking in creativity and eloquence. I sighed in defeat as I stood before the mirror, checking over my appearance—the same blue-white liquid starlight gown I adorned every year, and my hair swept away from my face with the same diamond studded combs I wore on my first Starfall. In an attempt to make tonight more memorable for Rhys, I wanted to recreate our first celebration together; I asked the shadowed-twins to style me the same way they had that night.

After dismissing themselves, I ran tentative fingers along my abdomen again before inhaling a deep and anxious breath. “Let’s go tell your father,” I said quietly, resigned with the fact that I would just have to wing whatever speech I would give Rhys for the news.

XXX

An hour into the party, after mingling with our friends and guests, the estate’s lights dimmed naturally and everyone began pooling out into the veranda as the star-spirits began their glittering descent. The sky was soon decorated with the spirits twirling and sparkling forms as the guests cheered with raised champagne glasses.

“Raise a glass, my love,” Rhys purred in my ear as he stepped up behind me, his chest brushing against my back as he offered the glass before me.

I hesitated, knowing it probably wasn’t wise to drink now that I knew I was expecting, but took the glass anyway before turning to face him, “Let’s go to our balcony,” I said as I straightened the collar of his traditional black jacket, tracing over the silver-lined pattern on his lapels lightly.

“Now?” He asked with his smug feline grin, “Usually we stay at least an hour after the dancing’s begun.”

“I know, but,” I paused, chewing over what to say next, “I wanted to ask you something.”

Something you can’t ask me around our guests? He asked through the bond, his feline grin turning into a teasing one

I rolled my eyes before brushing past him and striding down the hall, not bothering to look back to make sure he was coming. Well?

“Oh, I’m right behind you Feyre darling,” he purred in my ear again as his hand brushed over the small of my back, walking in step with me to the hall leading to our balcony.

“As you should be,” I said haughtily.

His dark chuckle reverberated through me, my stomach fluttering as I fought a smile and we stepped onto the balcony together. I walked up to the railing, setting my champagne glass aside and stared up at the sky as the star-spirits continued to sparkle and dance. Rhys’s fingers brushed up and down my spine softly as he watched with me, both of us in a comfortable silence. I watched from the corner of my eye as the stars illuminated his handsome face, a warm smile on his lips and I reached a hand down to hold his.

He turned that smile to me, “What did you want to ask me, my love?”

My heart skipped a beat as a question I was genuinely curious about popped into my mind, “What’s the first memory you have of Starfall?” I asked.

“That’s what you dragged me out here in the cold for?” He asked with a smirk, moving to stand behind me as he slid his arms around my waist and rested his chin atop the crown of my head.

I leaned into his embrace, perching my arms on his. I really do want to know

His sigh was peaceful as he contemplated, searching his memory as we continued to watch the sparkling display. Should I show you or do you want me to tell you?

“Tell me,” I answered quietly. My mind too tangled a mess to allow myself into his without the possibility of revealing my secret prematurely.

His arms tightened around me slightly as he smiled into my hair, “I was five years old. My mother and father brought me to the House of Wind, as they did every year. It was the first I managed to stay awake long enough to actually see the star-spirits,” he explained.

Gentle swells of music began to play behind us, and he swayed us from side to side smoothly. “It was years before they began to drift apart, so their relationship was strong. I remember it was the first time I realized how much they actually loved each other; for a time at least. I used to wonder how honest their love actually was, and my mind would always drift back to the memories of them dancing together on Starfall to remind me. It was also the night my mother announced she was pregnant with my sister.

“We were on the balcony at the House of Wind, watching the star shower. I was sitting on my father's shoulders, pointing out every spirit I saw. I was completely in awe of them. I think seeing my reaction made my mother cry, and when my father asked her what was wrong, she said to him ‘I can’t wait for our next child to look at the stars the way he does.’ The look on his face; the genuine elation in his eyes was enough to convince me that, for at least a part of my childhood, they had real love for each other.”

My eyes burned and my throat thickened as he relayed his memories, holding me close as we continued to sway together as the music continued to play. I moved to squeeze his hands lightly, his arms still wrapped around me from behind.

“That’s a beautiful memory, Rhys,” I whispered, my tears still threatening to spill.

He moved to bury his face in the crook of my neck, planting a kiss there as he breathed a peaceful sigh through his nose; still moving us along to the music, “Beautiful as it may be, my favorite Starfall memory will always be the first we shared together Feyre darling,” he whispered back.

I couldn’t help the few tears that fell as I closed my eyes with a smile, squeezing his hands a little harder. Words failed me in that moment and I opened my eyes again, both of our gazes turning to the sky as a large sprite glittered close to us. I gasped as the star-spirits began vaulting across the sky in greater numbers. They decorated the horizon in an endless dance—like liquid starlight sparkling above us as they danced and twirled. I heard the excited cheers of our guests on the other side of the estate and grinned. Mor was right, this year the spirits returned in vast amounts, unlike I ever imagined or thought possible.

A thought for a thought, Feyre darling?

I smiled and grabbed his hands, moving them from my waist and resting them on my abdomen right as that glimmer pulsed through it. “I’m thinking, I can’t wait for our baby to look at the stars the way you do,” I said.

Rhys stiffened at my words and I turned in his arms, making sure his hands stayed on my stomach as my eyes met his, my eyes burning again “I’m pregnant, Rhys.”

His eyes widened and looked down at where our hands rested, as though he might see the evidence now that I said the words aloud. A second later he dropped to one knee before me, eye level with our joined hands as he caressed my stomach fondly.

His eyes, now lined with silver, met mine again, “You’re pregnant?” He choked out.

I nodded with a sob, my words failing me once again and he sucked in a breath as he looked at my abdomen again. “My son, the son you showed me on your birthday, is growing inside of you...now?” He asked, his throat thick.

I sobbed again, a wet laugh escaping as I nodded, “That’s what pregnant means,” I rasped.

I heard his own strangled sob before he shot up to his feet, pulling me into an embrace and lifting me off the ground as he spun me around, chanting my name over and over again. “FeyreFeyreFeyre,” he sobbed in my hair.

I laughed and sobbed and cried all at once, my arms wrapping around his shoulders as he planted me back onto the ground and held onto my waist. His forehead rested against mine and I brought my hands up to brush his tears away while my own shamelessly poured down my cheeks.

“When I first noticed how different your scent was, I thought it was possible, but I didn’t want to say anything and get our hopes up,” he explained as he brought his hands up to wipe my tears away as well.

“You were suspicious this whole time?” I sniffed with a laugh.

“You’re my mate, I knew something was going on, but you didn’t even seem to realize it so I didn’t say anything,” he said, thumbs running over my cheeks as I held his wrists gently.

I smiled, “To be fair, I didn’t catch on until yesterday, after I fainted. I can’t believe I was so dense,” I laughed in disbelief.

He shook his head, returning his hands and gaze to my stomach “You weren’t...neither of us saw it coming,” he said softly.

“We tried for so long Rhys,” I whispered, my hands coming to rest on his chest.

He caressed my stomach again, “We’re going to have a baby,” he swallowed and his violet eyes met mine. “I love you beyond measure, Feyre. You’ve given me more than I could have ever dreamed of, more than I could possibly deserve, and now,” he dropped to one knee, again surveying my stomach as he continued, “I can’t wait to meet the son you’re blessing me with.”

I sobbed again and wrapped my arms around him as he leaned in to place a kiss on my abdomen. He stayed there for a minute before rising again, slipping his arms around my waist and capturing my lips with his. I kissed him back deeply, holding him close as we resumed moving to the music—dancing slowly as the stars continued their whirling journey beyond the horizon. Our brows pressed together as we swayed, and I draped my arms over his shoulders as his hands held my waist.

After today, this better be your new favorite Starfall memory, I said down the bond.

His answering smile was mischievous. Until next year, when I can dance with you on one arm and my son on the other.

My heart tightened at the thought, and I kissed him again. To the stars who listen, Rhys.

To the dreams that are answered, Feyre.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 10: Premonitions]

Several weeks and depressive episodes later...I’m BACK! 😃

And guess what: we’re officially approximately halfway done with BYCNL! (There will probably be nineteen chapters total.)  

The Queen/BoRhap fandom is feeling extra quiet lately, so if you’re still out there I’d LOVE it if you dropped me a comment/message/etc to let me know! I appreciate you all so much and hope you are finding things that bring you happiness, fulfillment, and peace. 💜

Chapter summary: Roger makes a purchase, Freddie makes a friend, Y/N makes an unsettling discovery, John makes a bewildering request.

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language, babies (but not your babies...or are they?!).

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii​ @loveandbeloved29​ @killer-queen-xo​ @maggieroseevans​ @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @queenlover05​ @someforeigntragedy​ @imtheinvisiblequeen​ @joemazzmatazz​ @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye​ @namelesslosers​ @inthegardensofourminds​ @deacyblues​ @youngpastafanmug​ @sleepretreat​ @hardyshoe​ @bramblesforbreakfast​ @sevenseasofcats​ @tensecondvacation​ @bookandband​ @queen-crue​ @jennyggggrrr​ @madeinheavxn​ @whatgoeson-itslate​ @brianssixpence​ @simonedk​ @herewegoagainniall​ @stardust-killer-queen​

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! 😊

“Roger, this is too much.” Your sandals click on the marble tile floor, a sandy gold like the beaches of Ostia. You peer up at the winding staircase, the Tudor-style diamond windows, the chandelier dripping with crystals. “This is way, way, way too much.”

“There’s no such thing as too much,” he parries merrily. “And look!” He pulls back an armful of sheer white curtains that had obscured the backyard. “The pool has a slide!”

You smile because you have to; he’s so elated, so young. “Roger, baby, unless you’re planning to acquire a literal harem of women we will never have a use for six bedrooms.”

“Sure we will!” He counts on his rugged fingers. “There’s one for us, and one can be the guest bedroom for when my mother or your parents visit, and then there’s one for if Chrissie ever wises up and leaves that wanker Brian and requires a place to stay between husbands, and one for when John needs an escape from that mind-numbing domestic purgatory of his, and one for Freddie’s overflow cats...” Roger trails off. He’s lost track.  

“That still leaves one unnecessary bedroom.”

He grins. “One for Roger Junior.”

“Oh my god.”

“It’s a wonderful home for children,” the real estate agent chimes, flitting around rearranging pillows and dusting off tabletops. “Plenty of space to spread out in, lots of bedrooms, fenced-in yard, security gate, spectacular school district...and such a lovely garden to explore! Does your wife garden?” she asks Roger.

“Girlfriend,” he corrects. “And no, she’s thoroughly useless in the agricultural department.”

You laugh and shove him away. “I have other talents.”

“You certainly do.” He growls as he grips your waist, inhales you, bites playfully down your neck and collarbones. The real estate agent raises her eyebrows, but politely averts her gaze and pretends to check if an artificial fern needs watering.

It’s the downturn of August, 1976. The sun is glaring and hot and spills in through the windows, setting the metallic flecks in the marble floor alight. It makes you think of the Yellow Brick Road, of fantasies built piece by piece into truth. John and Veronica bought a house in Putney, Brian and Chrissie a far larger one in Chelsea, Freddie and Mary a posh flat in West Kensington. Roger has his heart set on nothing less than a Surrey mansion. On the rare occasion that Queen has been home since the start of the A Night At The Opera Tour, you and Roger stay in his shabby—dodgy, you remind yourself—old apartment and pack boxes late into the evening, giggling over all the random and ancient relics you stumble across, sticks of Freddie’s eyeliner and dust bunnies tangled in strands of Brian’s spiraled hair, crumpled up spheres of paper with excerpts of songs scrawled on them, fossilized crusts of grilled cheese sandwiches beneath the couch. Queen is preparing for a brief UK tour at the start of September, including a free concert in Hyde Park organized by entrepreneur Richard Branson. Then it’ll be back to the studio to record their next album, a highly anticipated album, an album that will make millions regardless of what’s on it; and what’s on it, in your humble and musically unlearned opinion, is pretty goddamn great.

“Seriously,” Roger prompts, quietly now. “Do you like it?”

“Of course I like it. I love it. I just don’t need it.”

He grins. “I know you don’t need it. But I do.”

“That list of yours is getting awfully long.”

“You have no idea. We haven’t even started on the exotic pet collection yet.”

“There’s a marvelous koi pond out in the backyard,” the real estate agent says. “You could add turtles, and frogs, and all different types of fish. I can recommend sturgeon, they have such an alluring primeval sort of look to them, and the shimmer on shubunkins is just delightful...”

“You heard the lady.” Rog stretches his right hand like he does when his arm bothers him, when the bone that will never fully heal aches like something ancient and irredeemable, like hunger, like unrequited love: fingertips sprayed outwards, then folded into his palm, then outwards again.

“Rog...I don’t know.”

“Come on, baby! It has everything. Roman-style master bath. Bedrooms with mirrors on the ceiling. Space for my own studio. Land. Enormous refrigerators. You’ll have abundant room for John’s drawings.”

“Ohhh, now that’s true.” John is always adding to your collection, slipping you sketches as the boys scurry around getting ready before a show, during songwriting sessions that last long after midnight, when the band and its expanding circle of friends and family gather for birthdays and holidays. You don’t ask him about You’re My Best Friend, or, come to think of it, any of his other songs. You don’t ask him how he feels about his new life as a husband and father. And in return, John doesn’t ask whether you’re ever going to marry Roger, if you even want to, if you worry about what the future holds. It’s a loaded peace, but a comfortable one. A safe one.

“It doesn’t bother you, does it?” Roger asks suddenly. “The girlfriend thing. The not-wife thing.”

“No,” you reply, smiling. “Of course not.” Roger isn’t someone who pens love letters, recites all the reasons why he cannot live without you, sings love songs. He rarely speaks of love at all. Roger is as he always is: all action, all energy, eyes forever looking forward. But he does love you; you’re sure he does. Everything he does bleeds with love.

“Good. Because there’s no one I’d rather acquire a harem and zoological park with.”

“Okay,” you relent. “But no lions or tigers or bears. I’m quite attached to your limbs, and you’ve come close enough to ruining them already.”

“Deal.” He taps the Canon that hangs from your shoulder by its strap. “We should document this momentous juncture. One day we can pull out the photo album and show Roger Junior. ‘Hey look kid, this was the day Mum and Dad bought the house you were conceived in.’”

You laugh, almost positive that Roger isn’t serious. “I can guarantee you that precisely zero percent of children would ever want to hear that.” Nevertheless, you ready the camera and hold it as far away as you can, the lens aimed towards you.

“Don’t forget to smile!” Roger trills in his high, victorious voice as he rests his chin in the dip of your collarbone.

You snap the photo. The flash bursts through the kitchen of the Surrey mansion, blinding you both. The artificial bluish light dissipates like smoke.

~~~~~~~~~~

His name is Laszlo, and he’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen...even when he’s not especially well-mannered.

Currently, Laszlo—an Eastern European moniker from somewhere in his mother’s comically vast family tree—is whimpering and squirming against Veronica’s chest as she pats his tiny back and sighs wearily. Veronica, ever the good Polish Catholic wife, is already pregnant again. Chrissie smirks triumphantly and puffs on a cigarette, her rings glimmering on her left hand, her dress violet and new and very expensive. Brian is lost in some deep intellectual conversation with Richard Branson, gesturing with his long nimble hands and nodding empathetically, his dark curls rustling in the breeze like the lithe branches of a willow tree.

“Thank god you’re here,” John calls as you and Roger approach. “Freddie is about to get this concert cancelled.”

“I’m about to make this concert fabulous, darling,” Freddie objects. “We need pyrotechnics, we need sparklers and explosions and fireworks!”

Mr. Branson shakes his head. “Can’t do it, Fred. The embers could travel and set the trees on fire.”

Freddie groans. “Tell him, Roger!”

Roger shrugs, grinning, resting his elbow on John’s shoulder. “I don’t know, maybe we shouldn’t burn down Hyde Park.”

“You’ll be under a huge orange canopy, right over there.” Mr. Branson motions with a sweep of his arm. “You can’t do anything aerial. Flashing lights, sure. Fog, sure. But no fire. No explosions. Oh, and there’s technically a noise ordinance, but we’re working out a deal so the city won’t enforce it on the day of the show.”

“Orange?!” Freddie squeals.

“How will the acoustics be in a tent?” Brian asks, troubled.

John smiles mischievously. “Yes, how dreadful if no one could hear the extraneous guitar solos.”

“I have a gong, Rich,” Roger says. “Everyone will be able to hear my gong, right?”

“Your gong?” Freddie whines. “What about my voice?!”

“I miss stadiums,” Roger grumbles. You exchange a knowing glance with Mary and Chris and Veronica, who is imploring Laszlo to take a bottle. Our boys are difficult, aren’t they?

“The acoustics will be fine,” Mr. Branson snaps. “The tent color will be fine. Everything will be fine. You don’t need any fucking fireworks. Please for the love of god just tell me what kind of sandwiches you want.”

“That’ll be an ordeal as well,” Chrissie quips, and you all laugh; even Laszlo perks up, stops wriggling, glimpses around the open green space with curious greyish eyes like John’s.

Some teenage employee carrying a tangle of cables trots over, sweat dripping down his flushed freckled cheeks. “Mr. Branson? There’s someone from the city here to see you.”

Richard Branson smacks his forehead. “Jesus christ. Okay, I’ll be right there. Hey, Steve, hey, have you seen Dom? Go find Dom and tell her to come over here, okay? Thanks.”

The teenage employee nods and disappears into a sea of bustling people ferrying equipment, fliers, chairs, messages.

“I’m so sorry about this,” Mr. Branson says. “These city bastards are out to crucify me. You’d think they’d be a little more grateful that Queen of all bands is willing to put on a free concert in their backyard, but alas. Hey, Dom, over here!”

He waves to a petite young woman with a glossy shock of black hair and olive Mediterranean skin. She’s wearing all yellow: shorts patterned with daffodils, a tank top the color of butter, a headband like a sunbeam. One of her trim arms is cradling a notebook; the other reaches out so she can shake hands with everyone. The gesture is courteous but somewhat unnatural.

“This,” Mr. Branson begins, “is my personal assistant Dominique. She’s wonderful, she’ll listen to all your pretentious tales of woe and do it with a smile, because she’s a true professional. Better yet, she’s going to ask you the tedious questions I was supposed to so you don’t have to wait for me to finish sparring with the city council. Okay? Okay. Have fun. I’ll be back.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Dom says placidly in a heavy French accent. So that’s why her handshake was off somehow, stilted and weak; the French usually kiss as a greeting. You choke back a snort as you imagine Veronica’s reaction to that. Mr. Branson stalks away muttering about litigious twats.

“Oh, aren’t you just darling!” Freddie circles Dom, admiring her outfit, her hair, her gold hoop earrings. He wafts his cigarette around flamboyantly, completely forgetting to smoke it. “The French are so tasteful, aren’t they? You simply must connect me with your stylist.”

“I would be happy to, Mr. Mercury. But regrettably, I am my own stylist.”

“Ahh!” Freddie exhales, enamored. Mary lifts Laszlo from Veronica’s tired arms and cradles him, tickles his nose, beams down into his fresh and inquisitive face.

Dom pulls a pen from her shirt pocket. “May I ask your sandwich preferences for the day of the show?”

She immediately receives four very different answers, and she raises an eyebrow, her pen hovering over the lined paper of her notebook.

“I’m so sorry about them,” Chrissie says, and Dom chuckles civilly.

“Ham and cheddar,” Freddie tells her, synthesizing the responses. “Bacon, fried fish, steak and onion jam...and something for Brian. Cucumber maybe. Could we get some cucumber sandwiches, dear?”

“You’re a vegetarian?” Dom asks Brian, jotting down notes.

“He’s morally superior to us in every way,” John sighs dreamily, and Rog and Freddie cackle.

“I’m not a strict vegetarian,” Bri clarifies. “But for the sake of the animals and the planet, I try to limit meat when I can.”

Roger adds: “And I order twice as much of it, just to spite him.”

Dominique leads Queen around the portion of Hyde Park where the concert will be held, runs through the itinerary, fields a litany of questions and complaints. And you decide that you like Dom; she’s professional and reserved, yes, but she’s also patient with Freddie, smiles at his jokes, compliments his black-and-yellow striped shirt (“We match, and you remind me of a...oh, what’s the word in English? That bug...it flies around buzzing...buzz buzz...a bee!”), asks him what he’s planning to wear to the show. She assuages Brian, listens to John, takes the time to chat with the women about children, makeup, homes, what it’s like to be in love with rock stars. But Dom mostly ignores Roger, dodges his grins, remains staunchly undazzled. And that would worry you—because Roger loves the chase, you know that firsthand—if he hadn’t already taught you how to trust him, how addictively flawless and exhilarating life with Roger Taylor could be.

When Laszlo begins to fuss in Mary’s grasp, you take your turn holding him; and he blinks up at you with eyes that are wide and clear and seeking, and you find yourself feeling like you always do when you’re around your godson: like maybe you have a stronger opinion about wanting children than you thought you did, like you can’t stop envisioning a baby with Roger’s eyes instead of John’s.

That evening—after leaving Hyde Park, after dinner, after drinks mixed out by the koi pond—as you doze in a sweltering bubble bath and steam curls through the air, you hear Roger’s voice floating from the kitchen downstairs. You rise out of the tub, towel yourself off, slip into a white silk robe as rivulets of bathwater slink down the back of your neck. You tread gingerly towards the kitchen, keep silent so you can hear, lurk in the shadows of the hallway with your palms pressed flat against the wallpaper.

“Hello, is Dominique Beyrand in?” Roger says into the kitchen phone. “I’ve been trying to track her down. Sure, I’ll wait. Thanks.” After a pause, he continues. “Hi, Dom! It’s Roger Taylor, from Queen. The irritating blond one. I was just wondering if you’d happened to stumble across my wallet since this afternoon, I seem to have misplaced it. Oh, you haven’t? Bloody hell. Well, thank you for taking my call. Aw, that’s so kind of you, I’m sure I’ll locate it eventually. I’ve got a terrible habit of losing things. Okay, thanks so much. Goodnight to you too. See you soon. Cheers.” He hangs the phone up as you step into the kitchen. His smile is bright and innocuous. “Hey, baby!”

“Who was that?” Your tone is similarly casual; or so you hope.

“Just Richard Branson’s assistant. That French woman Dominique. I can’t find my wallet and thought I might have left it at Hyde Park, but no dice. Oh well.”

Roger begins rummaging through the drawer full of business cards and address books, tapping his foot, humming to himself. And surely he isn’t trying to avoid my eyes. Your gaze skates over the marble countertop. There, by the refrigerator, just a few feet—a meter, you correct yourself to be properly British—from where Roger stands, is his black leather wallet.

“It’s right there, Rog,” you say, pointing. And now your voice isn’t so nonchalant.

Roger spins to check. “Oh my god, I completely missed it!” He snatches up the wallet with a celebratory chuckle. “I’m such a twit sometimes. You’re too fucking smart, you know that? You’re making me look bad.”

He rushes to you, takes your left hand, bites your knuckles lightly like he did outside Massachusetts General Hospital under dawn skies over two years ago. And then Roger whispers to you, nuzzling your neck scented with lavender soap and doubt.

“Let’s go to bed.”

~~~~~~~~~~

There’s a knock at the door. John is standing on the front porch of the Surrey house with his hands in his pockets and a vague sort of smile on his face. He’s in a black suit.

“Get ready,” he says. “Do your hair, throw on some earrings. Maybe the pearls Roger got you last Christmas. We’re going shopping.”

“Why do I need to look fancy to go shopping?”

John shrugs, feigning indifference; but the puckish glint in his eyes gives him away. Yet there’s something a little sad and weighty in them too, isn’t there?

Your own eyes narrow. “I’m onto you, bassist.”

He laughs as you tug teasingly at a lock of his downy hair. “You always are.”

John takes you to a dress shop on Bond Street where the corsets trickle with gemstones and the designers all have Italian names: Armani, Prada, Abate, Cerruti, Valentino, Biagiotti. He sinks into a leather chair just outside the fitting room and lights a cigarette, takes a long drag, points to you with the lit end.

“Go ahead. Go wild. It’s a blank check.”

“Really?!” You glance around the shop, your pulse racing. “But I don’t know the occasion. I don’t want to be underdressed or overdressed or whatever. Although I don’t think I’ve ever been overdressed in my life.”

“Yes, you can’t seem to shake those pragmatic service industry roots, can you?” Another drag. “You need a dress and matching shoes. Formal, but not too formal. Think a record company party. Elegant but exciting. Lots of sparkle. Slightly slutty, if you’re so inclined.”

“This is an unconventional bonding activity,” you tell John, trying to conceal your nerves.

“Love, this isn’t something you can fail at,” he says, gently now. “You’re going to look amazing no matter what. So just have fun with it. This isn’t a test. This is one of those adventures you’re always searching for.”

I can promise you that your life will never feel like a cage; that’s what Roger once told you. But maybe you don’t always want to be quite so free, so unmoored. “Okay. But you have to swear to give honest opinions. I don’t want to show up looking like a wombat because you were too nice to say anything.”

John just chuckles to himself, shakes his head, devours cigarette after cigarette.

With the assistance of one of the shop employees, you climb into a pastel pink dress with a full ruffled skirt, an emerald green dress with an empire waist and loose sheer sleeves, a shimmering metallic silvery dress with a form-fitting silhouette. John nods at all of them, wholeheartedly approves, defers to your judgment. He periodically consults his wristwatch as he taps his cigarettes on the rim of an ashtray, and deflects your questions when you ask him why. Then you step out of the fitting room—balanced on gold heels—in a white dress with a hem that hits just above your knees, a halter neckline, a slim keyhole down the center of your chest; and John’s cigarette tumbles out of his fingers.

“That’s the one,” he breathes, soaking it in. Then he asks the employee to cut off all the tags and whips out his wallet. “Toss your old clothes and shoes in a bag. We gotta catch a cab.”

“We’re going straight to the party?”

“We certainly are.”

“What the hell kind of ridiculously lame party starts at 3 p.m.?”

John smirks craftily. “The kind of party we’re going to. Let’s rock and roll, Florence Nightingale.”

John gives the taxi driver an address and you sail through the streets of London, splashing through shallow evaporating puddles, squinting when sunlight ricochets glaringly off the slick pavement. The taxi rolls to a stop outside of a grand stone building with columns and intricate carvings of leaves and flowers. The sign outside reads: Kensington and Chelsea Register Office.

You turn to John. “Who’s getting married?!”

He just smiles, a deep harbor of secrets.

“It’s Fred and Mary, right? Jesus christ, John, you can’t wear white to someone else’s wedding, Mary’s going to strangle me—”

“It’s not Mary’s wedding.”

Slowly, your jaw falls open. “No,” you whisper in disbelief.

John darts out of the taxi, jogs around to your side, and opens the door for you. You gape up at him senselessly, struggling to remember how to form sentences.

“John...this...this is some bizarre and elaborate joke, right?”

“Nope.” He offers his hand, helps you out of the taxi, leads you up the front steps of the Register Office. Inside, everyone is waiting: Freddie and Mary, Brian and Chrissie, Veronica with babbling baby Laszlo, Roger’s mother and sister...and Roger, of course, in his best black suit and bleached blond hair and trademark guaranteed-to-dazzle (unless of course you’re Dominique Beyrand) grin. He flies to you and takes your hands in his.

“You look incredible, baby.”

“Roger, what’s going on...?”

“Don’t freak out,” he commands, and instantly your panic vanishes. There’s a pink rose pinned to his lapel. “I know we don’t feel like we need to get married. I know we agree it doesn’t mean anything.” Is that still true? “So don’t think that this is about trying to trap you or control you or bullshit white picket fences or anything. And of course you can say no, I won’t be mad, no one will hold that against you, we can find some other reason to party. But the simple facts are that I’m a British national with a mansion and a plethora of perpetual royalties and you’re an American here on a work visa, and the law gets a bit thorny in this situation. And I want to make sure you’re taken care of if something happens to me. That you can carry out my wishes. That you can stay here with the band as long as you want to. So, I’ve got your passport and birth certificate and everything else we need...and some overly-enthusiastic witnesses. Are you cool with signing a piece of paper today?”

“Of course she bloody well is!” Freddie exclaims, and everyone laughs. Mary is carrying a basket full of champagne flutes, Chrissie several bottles of pink champagne, Roger’s sister a tub of ice. Brian has been entrusted to chronicle the event with your Canon. Veronica is more giddy than you’ve ever seen her, even more animated than she was at her own wedding. Well, I suppose she doesn’t have to worry about any illicit pregnancies or condemnatory great aunts this time around.

“Okay,” you tell Roger. And you wish you weren’t beaming so broadly your cheeks ache, because it feels a little pathetic to be this happy about an admittedly meaningless wedding. But it does make you happy, your general aversion towards conventionality be damned.

You sign papers and you toast glasses and you giggle uproariously in the lobby of the Register Office with the best friends you’ve ever had, guzzle pink champagne, pose for photos, take your turn holding Laszlo, kiss Roger beneath the stone arch of the centuries-old building.

It doesn’t mean anything, you remind yourself, suddenly very aware of the missing weight of a ring on your left hand. It doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t mean anything.

But you catch a few furtive glances between Chrissie and Bri, the twist of a frown on Freddie’s face when he thinks no one is watching, the distance in John’s shadowy eyes as he inhales champagne like air.

It doesn’t mean anything.

[ayo-cowbelly]

The Things We Do For Love ~ Part Four

Previous part ~ next part ~ masterlist 

IM BACK! haha sorry this took so long, life got in the way 

But anyways: here is part four! Only one more part left to go, I hope everyone reading enjoyed this! I LOVE getting comments with thoughts, they honestly make my day :) 

Thank you Wookieepedia, for supplying me with obscure planets to use in my writing.

P.S. i know ‘vode’ isn’t technically an official word in Mando’a. but it’s in a warrior chant and there’s no plural for ‘vod’ (at least on mando’a.org) so guess what i’m using vode as plural.

Taglist (if you want to be added, let me know):

@likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @cacodaemonia @halfblood-demigods @ct7567329

***

Finally, after about two weeks since Order 66, they all rendezvoused over Aeos Prime. Their ‘group’ had grown in size- the 212th had been contacted by the 327th, the 104th, along with the 501st. The Senators’ ship and the Negotiator were the first to arrive, however. 

The first thing Padmé did when she saw Obi-Wan again was pull him close and hug him, tight. It was rushed, clumsy, and hard to do considering how pregnant she was, but they both needed it. 

“How are you holding up, Padmé?” Her friend asked as they walked to the bridge of the Negotiator.

“As well as I can be, in the grand scheme of things. My old mentor is a Sith and now Emperor, the Republic has fallen, everyone thinks I’ve been kidnapped and maybe murdered, the Jedi have been- well, you know…” 

Obi-Wan placed a gentle hand on her arm. “I meant, how are you holding up concerning Anakin.” 

Oh. Apparently, Vader was a hero to the Empire, having recognized the threat the Jedi posed and “taking care of it”. They weren’t officially releasing his true identity, though some already knew, according to what she’d heard from her contacts. Anakin had been featured prominently on the holonet during the years he was at war, he was bound to be recognized. 

Though he seemed almost like a different person now, even by just looking at the holonet. No, even before this, something changed. Something had been off the last few weeks, she’d noticed that much. Ever since he started having those horrible visions of her dying. 

Padmé glanced over at Obi-Wan, who’d know if she lied, so she didn’t bother trying. “It’s been hard. But I’ll manage.” 

“Padmé, I know you two were… involved, for lack of a better word.” 

The Senator faced him, excuses coming to mind -a reflex, after three years of marriage- but she couldn’t keep the tell-tale redness off her cheeks. 

“You knew?” 

“Of course I knew,” Obi-Wan replied simply, as if it wasn’t a big deal at all. And the way he said it, so nonchalantly, relaxed Padmé ever so slightly. “Anakin is anything but subtle. He always did look at you like you hung the stars- it was hard not to notice it, honestly.” 

Well. That was that, apparently. Padmé watched as Obi-Wan looked out the windows, and she studied his face; the slight downturn of his lips, the shadows of worry lines etched into his brow, the dark circles under his eyes. 

He looked tired. 

Maybe he always had, and Padmé had never noticed. Anakin would’ve noticed, she was certain. He always admonished her for working too much- surely he did the same for one of his oldest friends? 

Or maybe he didn’t, Padmé wondered, as she stepped up beside her friend and faced the expanse outside. She thought of Anakin’s irritation in regards to Obi-Wan, getting more and more frequent in the last few weeks- months, even. 

“Obi-Wan, what are we going to do?” Padmé asked quietly, keeping her eyes forward. 

Obi-Wan, who was always so calm, never a hair out of place -Obi-Wan, a Jedi Master, High General, never without a plan or a comeback- reached one hand up to rub his chin as he sighed. 

“To be perfectly honest, my friend, I’m not sure I know.” 

*** 

Four Senators, four Commanders, two Jedi, and one former Jedi,. 

They were a motley crew, but they’d take what they could get, Cody figured. 

After all, they were going up against something entirely different from what they were used to. The eleven of them had been tossing around ideas for hours, crowded in the briefing room as they were. Nobody had come up with a solid plan yet. 

Commander Tano (no, not Commander, she insisted on it- but what else was he to call her?) was the next to pipe up. “What if we just… lay siege?” She suggested, sounding exhausted. As she leaned on the console, Cody noticed Rex placing a hand on her shoulder. All that time away, and she’s still his vod’ika, Cody remarked to himself. In a way, it was a comforting thought; it was nice to know know that at least one thing hadn’t changed. 

“We can’t lay siege to Coruscant,” Obi-Wan said, equally as worn out, and Cody wanted to take his jetii into his arms and shield him from the galaxy, the galaxy that asked so much of him. Cody pushed the wanting away, shoved it down until it was nothing more than a silent hum in his bones. He concentrated on his General’s words. “There are too many things that could go wrong. For one, we are terribly outnumbered here. Two, they’d see us coming immediately, and the civilians-” 

Commander Tano cut him off. “I know we can’t do it, I just- well, we can’t sit here and do nothing. Something needs to be done about Palpatine.” “I know that, Ahsoka, believe me.” 

The two of them had been slightly at odds with each other for most of the two days Tano and the 501st had been on board. Cody didn’t ask, and neither of them brought it up. But it was there.

Senator Organa, ever the voice of reason, chimed in. “Before we do anything concerning Palpatine, we should handle Lord Vader,” the atmosphere of the room darkened considerably at the name. Senator Amidala’s face fell, Commander Tano wrapped her arms around herself, Rex glared at the floor, and Obi-Wan looked ashen. Nobody needed to mention who Vader had once been, for they already knew. And the answer was nothing short of horrifying. 

Senator Organa went on. “My contacts say Vader barely leaves the Emperor’s side. That will prove to be a problem for us. Sky- Vader is very powerful, and a great threat.” 

“You think we should try to get him away from the Emperor, then?” Senator Mothma asked. “Only something of considerable importance would do that. And we can’t be sure the Emperor wouldn’t come along, to keep an eye on things.” 

“It’d be illogical for him to go, Senator.” Bly said, speaking for only the third time. Cody was extremely worried about his batchmate. The first time they’d seen each other after the Order went out, Bly looked pale and haunted. Cody recognized the look, one he’d seen on many other soldiers- survivor’s guilt. But this was so much worse. Cody knew, to a certain degree, about Bly and General Secura; he also knew what must have happened on Felucia, but he didn’t say anything. Him, along with Rex and Wolffe, just took Bly to Cody’s quarters and got out the alcohol. 

Bly’s voice was quiet but strong. “The Emperor wouldn’t accompany him- he needs to stay on Coruscant, keep the Senate in line. Plus, if Vader was going somewhere dangerous, Palpatine wouldn’t want to endanger himself.” 

“Agree with the Commander, I do,” General Yoda said. “Unnecessary danger, he would not put himself in.” 

“What if Vader brings along any troopers?” Cody bristled at Senator Chuchi’s words. Empire or no, Cody would not hurt brothers, and he knew the other Commanders would agree. And he was sure that if any of the vode were fighting for the Empire, they weren’t doing it willingly.

“With all due respect, Senator, I won’t order the men to fight brothers.” Cody met her eyes, which softened. 

“And I’m not asking you to, Commander. But if we are to do something about Vader, we need to get him by himself.” 

“I’ll message him to meet me.” Senator Amidala looked around at them all. “He’ll come alone if I tell him to.” 

“Absolutely not-”

“Padmé, you can’t-” 

“Senator, please don’t-”

She quieted the objections with a raised hand. “It’s the only way,” she declared. Many of the others opened their mouth to disagree, but she plowed on. “He’ll listen to me. And I can get through to him, I know it.” The last part was said with the smallest twinge of uncertainty, but Senator Amidala remained stoic. “And I’m not changing my mind.” 

“Then I’m coming with you.” Cody whipped his head to where Obi-Wan was next to him. “You’ll need protection.” 

“He won’t hurt me-” “Then consider me paranoid. I won’t interfere, but I won’t let you go alone,” Obi-Wan assured her. 

“And neither will I.” Commander Tano looked up at her old Grandmaster’s widened eyes. “If it is... if it’s him, I need to make sure.” A flicker of pain in her eyes, though she remained steady.

Obi-Wan didn’t disagree with the now-forming plan. But Cody did. 

“Sirs,” Cody started, ignoring Tano’s obvious objection to the phrase, “I have to ask you to reconsider. This could potentially go very, very wrong, and we need you here-” 

“Nothing will happen to us, Cody, I assure you,” Obi-Wan said to him. 

“Every time you say that, General, something happens that proves otherwise.” 

Obi-Wan crossed his arms. “Not every time-” 

“Almost every time, General, and this time if something were to go wrong- there is a chance you won’t come back.” Cody’s helmet was off, like the other three clones, so Obi-Wan could definitely read the myriad of emotions in the Commander’s eyes. His General reached out and placed a hand on Cody’s shoulder, and for a moment, Cody forgot the others were there. 

Obi-Wan, softer now, held Cody’s gaze. “Cody,” he said softly. “I’ll be fine, I promise.” Obi-Wan seemed to read Cody’s mind. “But you can’t come with. I need you here, to watch over things while I’m gone.” The last time you told me that, you faked your death, Cody wanted to say. Instead, he nodded and turned away. They hadn’t spoken about that night a week ago, in Obi-Wan’s quarters. They both acted like it never happened- the opposite of what Cody wanted, but he knew it was what had to be done. But when Obi-Wan spoke like that, soft and gentle and caring, Cody couldn’t help but want something more-

Rex spoke up, interrupting Cody’s internal plight. “General, I have an idea.” 

*** 

Padmé landed the shuttle on Abafar’s desert terrain, nerves getting the best of her. She didn’t know who would meet her there- Anakin, or Vader. She preferred to think of them as two different people. Ani would never do what they said Vader did. 

Padmé tried to repress the memory that sprang to mind- one of Tatooine, and a body wrapped in gray, and Anakin with tears in his eyes, yelling about what he’d done to the Tusken Raiders for what they did to his mother.

Or more recently, when he had walked in Clovis almost kissing her. She remembered what he’d done, what he came close to doing.

He’d gone too far that night. “It’s just, something inside me snapped,” He had said.

She knew that happened often, more often than he told her. “I don’t know who’s in there sometimes,” She whispered back.  

That was truer than she’d like to admit. A small, small part of Padmé wondered-

No. He couldn’t. 

Right? 

She stood up and looked to both Obi-Wan and Ahoska, both as much her family as anyone, and made to exit the ship. 

Ahsoka grabbed her elbow, stopping her. “Padmé, please, be safe.” Padmé smiled kindly, and hugged the Togruta close. 

“I’ll be okay, Ahoska, I promise.”

Obi-Wan didn’t say anything, just met her eyes and nodded, gesturing half-heartedly to the ship’s door. Padmé steeled herself and went outside.  The air was very hot, and she silently thanked herself for the decision to wear light clothing. 

She only had to wait a few minutes before another shuttle, one that looked to be Imperial, landed not too far away. A lone figure approached, and she knew without a doubt who it was. 

But when they got closer, she wasn’t so sure. She could see their face, and she did not recognize it. They looked cold and detached, almost fearsome, and the uncertainty she tried to get rid of flared inside her. She would never be nervous around her husband. This person, whoever he was, was a stranger to her.

Padmé could now see his eyes, which were not the usual bright blue. They were golden. This was not her husband. It couldn’t be.

But she had to try. 

“Ani?”

[mobius-prime]

222. Sonic the Hedgehog #154

Songoose (Part 2 of 2)

Writer: Karl Bollers Pencils: Ron Lim Colors: Jason Jensen

Today's issue is a bit bittersweet. While Karl Bollers hasn't always been the most popular writer, and I've definitely had my fair share of problems with certain aspects of his writing, it's hard to deny the heavy impact he had on the world of the comic. And this just so happens to be his last issue as a writer! That's right, though we've seen various writers come and go, this is the first time we're truly saying goodbye to a head writer. (You might be wondering about Michael Gallagher given his increasingly infrequent involvement with the series, but fear not, he's still got a few more future issues left in 'im.) Apparently he actually had quite a few plans for the storyline and characters post-StH#134, which was a while ago, but for one reason or another these never came to fruition, and never even had a chance to be salvaged for future issues by other writers due to his leaving the comic. So let's dedicate this issue to ol' Karl and the hard work he put into this comic, and appreciate what he brought to the table over the years. Onward!

It's the night of Mina's second concert, and the various Freedom Fighters are positioned at strategic points around and behind the stage and crowd to guard the venue from any more assassination attempts. Mina is pleased with Sonic's involvement in her protection detail, but Ash is considerably less so, and asks to speak to Mina privately before her performance. Sonic initially tries to refuse to leave her side given his duty to her, but when Ash gets in his face about it Mina steps in and tells Sonic she'll be okay to have a quick chat. Sonic reluctantly leaves the dressing room, and Ash confronts Mina about her decision to go through with tonight's concert, as he really feels it's too dangerous. She reiterates her feeling of security with Sonic around, and Ash's feelings of jealousy finally spill out as he details Sonic's perceived failings, including how he (totally unintentionally mind you) broke her heart a year ago by kissing Sally in front of her. He paradoxically refuses to "forgive" Sonic for… not dating Mina, I guess? Which you'd think he'd be pleased about considering that's the only reason he ever got to date her, but she stands firm against his tirade.

Really bad timing on this, Ash. Honestly, though, as abrasive and jealous as Ash can be, he's not wrong at all about his accusations, and in my opinion has every right to feel slighted and upset. He really does seem like a guy who's flawed yet genuinely likable - I mean, put yourself in his shoes (assuming you're not down for open relationships) and tell me you wouldn't feel the exact same way upon seeing your girlfriend routinely eyeing up another guy. Plus, he isn't flaky - notice that despite breaking up with Mina, he explicitly states his intentions to remain as her band manager. A lesser person might have left their ex high and dry out of spite, but despite their disagreement he's still completely ready and willing to help her organize everything she needs to remain a pop star. Careful, Mina, you better remember "Aly's" advice to you from a few issues ago before you let this guy slip through your fingers…

Outside the room, Sonic gets a call from Sally looking for an update, and when he lets slip that he let her stay in her dressing room alone Sally scolds him for not sticking to her like glue, ordering him back into the room to check on her. When he enters he's surprised to see her sitting alone with a sad expression, asking her what's bothering her. You'd think he'd have some clue of what was wrong considering he would have just seen Ash angrily stomping right through the very door he was guarding, but Mina just says she doesn't know how to explain, which Sonic quietly agrees with the sentiment of. She's able to collect herself for her performance, though, and begins by singing another song that definitely feels inspired by her crush on Sonic. However, Eggman's plan to kill her is still moving ahead, and he sends out Heavy and Bomb (well, Bombs, there's a lot of them) to infiltrate the concert crowd once the concert is well underway.

Sonic immediately grabs Mina and pulls her away from the edge of the stage while the rest of the Freedom Fighters rush in to battle the Bombs, something which I find funnier than it should be considering they're, well, bombs, and the best plan for dealing with bombs on legs would usually be to run the hell away from them before they blow up. Nevertheless, they seem to be holding their own by throwing or smacking the Bombs away before they explode, though Ash finds an excuse in the situation to insist once more than Sonic leave so he can protect Mina on his own, even somewhat spitefully pointing out that Mina was fine without Sonic for an entire year before now. Sonic initially refuses, but when Heavy himself arrives, crashing down onto the stage to target Mina directly, Sonic concedes and tells Ash to take her somewhere safe while he fights the robot one on one. At first Sonic teases and trash talks as normal, but when Heavy gives him more trouble than he bargained for he concocts a plan to drill into the earth and bait Heavy into following him, then drill straight into the nearby lake from below. This washes them both out into the open waters, disabling Heavy in the process. I'm not sure exactly how this plan even works, considering we've seen in previous issues that Heavy is waterproof - I mean, did Eggman take out that feature when he rebuilt him? - but either way, it does work, though Sonic falls unconscious once he gets washed out. Man, between his first battle against M in StH#132 and his easy escape from a watery grave in Anti-Mobius just a few issues ago, it really seems like later comic issues like to play fast and loose with the whole "he can't swim" character trait. Sometimes he can detangle himself from tight rope bonds and swim to safety without a problem, and other times he blacks out within scant seconds of touching water, and you never know which one you're gonna get till the plot calls for it. Of course, he's fine after waking up on shore, having been rescued by Bunnie, and the Freedom Fighters tell him that as far as they can tell they disabled or destroyed every Bomb in the area, meaning Mina is safe once more. With the threat ended, Sonic and Mina say goodbye to each other for the night, with Sonic making Mina promise they'll go out for chili dogs sometime soon. However, this wouldn't be a story if something didn't go wrong…

I like to think that this isn't even a case of the Freedom Fighters randomly missing a Bomb, rather being part of Eggman's plan - send in the big, obvious cavalry first to be fought and predictably defeated, then send in one last little Bomb to finish the job once everyone's guard is down. The explosion alerts everyone outside the backstage area, and they rush in to find Mina sobbing over Ash's body. Don't worry, though - when they rush him to the hospital Dr. Quack is able to get him in a stable condition, meaning that though he has a long slow recovery ahead he'll ultimately be fine. Sonic escorts a distraught Mina into Ash's room, where she admits her true feelings to his sleeping form.

I'm surprised that Sonic genuinely seems a little disappointed at their reconciliation, but then again, he and Mina were clearly shown to have some chemistry even before the time skip, though Sonic was obviously drawn more to Sally. It seems that with he and Sally currently being on the outs, and Mina having split from Ash, he had actually considered taking the chance with her - I mean, they did agree to a chili dog date after all - but now that's obviously not happening. Well, maybe the chili dog date is, but not Sonic and Mina becoming an item. What I'm trying to say is, this page has just sunk your Sonic/Mina ship. Fortunately, with this second failure Eggman has decided that trying to kill Mina is too hard and not worth his time, so she should be safe for now. He still finds himself lamenting the loss of his robotic body, however (something that you'd think should be child's play for him to fix considering previously roboticizing himself is literally part of his backstory), finding his current organic body too breakable. The use of that word suddenly makes him pause, having just come up with a new idea… but Karl certainly won't be the one writing about it, as with that final line of dialogue, he's officially completed his time as head writer for the Archie Sonic comics! Sayonara, Karl Bollers - though there were certainly some rough patches, on the whole I enjoyed your work on the comic, and we'll miss ya!

More Than Meets the Eye

Writer/Pencils: Ken Penders Colors: Josh Ray

…though remember, we are still dealing with Penders for a few more issues yet. Since the mission into Megaopolis a couple issues ago, Rotor, Uncle Chuck, Tommy, Tails, and Snively (plus apparently Fiona, for some reason) have all been hard at work studying and trying to understand the nanites. They try blasting them with a ton of electricity, but when that elicits no response from the nanites Tommy worriedly thinks Snively killed them with the zap, though Snively corrects him that biologically speaking, they're not really "alive," nor is anything that Eggman makes. While you may be technically correct from a scientific standpoint, Snively, I think Nicole might have a thing or two to say about your assertion that machines can't be alive…

Well! It seems Tommy was also unconvinced by Snively's words, and his tear splashing down into the nanite goo triggers some kind of reaction, prompting them to rapidly spread out and reach tendrils of themselves towards him. He's understandably a little freaked out and retreats into his shell, but the nanites don't hurt him as they make contact with the shell - in fact, the sensation is ticklish and causes him to start giggling uncontrollably, which must make for a very weird sight as Uncle Chuck reenters the room to investigate the noise. Tommy assures him that he's all right - and then from out of nowhere, his shell sprouts a pair of goddamn wings, because why the hell not?

I initially took issue with this concept due to it being established canon that the nanites can only absorb and reshape non-living matter, whereas turtle shells are definitely living matter, being full of nerve endings and basically being formed from repurposed bone matter from the turtle's ribs and pelvis. However, the above dialogue seems to indicate that they were able to fuse with Tommy's shell anyway by connecting straight into his nervous system. I would guess that after Sonic introduced the nanites to the concept of organic and synthetic coexistence a couple issues ago, they were just waiting for the chance to "study" an organic specimen in their own weird way, and Tommy just happened to end up as their test subject.  Chuck and Tommy call everyone else in, where he notes that the nanites seem to react to his thoughts without said thoughts actually controlling the nanites directly. He demonstrates this by thinking vaguely that he wants to go somewhere, prompting a pair of jetpack engines to sprout from his shell and ignite, carrying him straight out of the lab and into the sky above Knothole. The others watch with an odd mixture of bemusement and amusement as the nanites fly Tommy's body in a pattern, using contrails to write "We're just going for a test drive" in the air. Well Tommy, looks like you have a really cool and unique new ability! It'd certainly be interesting to be fused with self-replicating nanomachines that react to your thoughts and wishes by morphing themselves in ways to grant those wishes, especially when they seem to actively like their host.