#thanks for the ask! i had segments of this written out already but this kicked me into cleaning it up

[desognthinking]

im fascinated what is tomb guardians au i am immediately imagining ava trying to get (very serious about her job) bea to talk to her (t4t aka tomb for tomb communication) like “it’s because you’re always on that damn guarding the tomb” and bea staring at her like “oh (relevant semi-religious curse word/deity invocation), i HAVE to fuck her”

Hi 😄  tomb guardians au is exactly that! except a little weirder, i think. Because they arent the guards stalking the graveyard they are the inhumanly stone-and-metal-but-not-really guardians themselves ☺️it's like what if beatrice had two heads and stood watch over the sealed, entombed heart of a bloodline. And ava was the new, terrible protector of a clan of craftsmen on a hilltop, buried with chambers of generations of their art. And what if they were necropolis neighbors 😳

This is one chunk previously posted and this shorter thing is set a little later, during the wedding mentioned in the first part. i think it kind of matches this ask pretty well 🥺:

Weddings are just like funerals: they’re never safe. The procession overflows from the courtyard at the mouth of the tombhouse, and nobody turns their attention to the other side of the hill. That's Ava’s job. Beatrice, perched carefully atop her roof in a long line of others she can vaguely make out, stretched across the rim of the hills, can see her sway and duck through kitestrings and tree-hung lanterns blowing in the wind as she keeps vigil. 

There’s fire, and an uncoordinated symphony of chattering accompanying music, and colored smoke that drifts up and drenches the air in pinks and yellows. The party had started at the Salviuses’ inner city tombhall, and then wound its way through the cobbled streets to settle here sometime around midday. Now the sun has cooled from its boil and the clouds are dissipating in streaks leaving swatches of color overtop the trees.

Celebration mixes with ceremony in equal parts, and Ava’s soaking it in, so she told Beatrice herself. Amidst the rush of activity at the Silvas’, she’d found her way over yesterday, dangling her human legs over a particularly stubborn branch that tipped over a brass gate, lurching under her weight towards brown grass.

“And, if you want,” she’d said quickly, “the view from atop our central mausoleum is incomparable.” Following the parched trajectory of Beatrice’s traitorous eyes, Ava had reached up to hurriedly smooth out the colorful combs that had erupted from her crown as she blurted out the offer. “You could see the dances up close.” 

She paused, as Beatrice reached out, at first hesitantly, then bravely, to gently still Ava’s hands from patting down the sharp, fiery crests. It’s okay.

(I like them.)

“We’re close enough that you could still keep a lookout for things over here.” 

Proximity, of course, was in truth the last thing that Beatrice feared would compromise her duty, and she knew that Ava knew it too. 

They sat in silence, not uncomfortably. Hot plumes, from where the days-long feast was being prepared in great earthen pots and pits on the rolling green surrounding the Silva walls, thinned out as they passed through the trees to Beatrice’s clearing. 

Whispers of stews, and meats, and spices. Beatrice felt, suddenly, terribly hungry.

“Will you ask again tomorrow?” she chanced, finally. 

Ava, bright and shocked and delighted, laughed. In her relief she nearly fell backwards off the branch, taking with her Beatrice, who had joined her on the tree.

Razor-edged fronds sprung up again from the top of her sun-warmed head. “Horrible”, she joked. 

Beatrice disagreed, and let her know.

Now, the sky is dampening, and the wedding party, in dribs and drabs, pauses to refill its cups and light its candles. In this twilight Beatrice lets herself turn to the west.

It is not easy to see, but the creature on the Silva house is there, beyond the clasp of woods, and when Beatrice meets its eyes its form unfolds in magnificent, menacing span and its unmistakable, jagged tail rises, quick and high, as in warning or challenge. 

From this far away, and half-hidden by foliage, it is impossible to make out the details of that bolted, harsh surface, but Beatrice knows how it feels under her palm, fluttering and leathery and spiny and warm, just as she knows by a glance the towering shape of the display and the exaggerated, daring, silly invitation that it extends across the space between their roofs. 

Ridiculous. 

Ava – terrifying as she extinguishes the numerous wraiths that have already sought to take advantage of the guardian transition, serious as the new caretaker of an artistic legacy, and an achingly, brilliantly quick learner of that uncommon dialect spoken by Beatrice’s house – lifts off her roof in a dramatic jump, and lands with a shaking thud that sends shivers through the ground all the way over. 

\

Help arrives so quickly that Beatrice knows said help is going to give her a hard time. 

“Mary,” she greets, relieved all the same. “Are you sure you don’t mind keeping watch?”

“Yeah, don’t worry, Shannon's got it all handled back home,” Mary traces the perimeter easily, scanning the horizon in each direction and then feeling the hollows and convexities of the tombhouse in quick reappraisal. Beatrice stands aside as she smoothly pads across the surface of what she must have judged to be possible points of weakness, tests the robustness of a couple of Beatrice’s carefully constructed defenses, then nods, satisfied. 

A great-aunt, peeking out too to watch the celebrations, looks up, sees Mary, and waves. Mary sends her a bow. 

“You know, Bea, she’s right,” she hums, finally. “It’s not too far away, and you’ve always been focused when out visiting.”

The bait is not particularly subtle, and Beatrice narrows her eyes. 

“I just don’t think it’s safe to reduce any protections during a celebration when everyone’s guards are down.” She busies herself with cleaning up the place, tightening the wards and doing some final redundant sweeps and checks. “It’d be easy for someone or something to slip through, especially with so many unfamiliar faces.”

“Mm. And you’d be distracted.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” 

“Sure.” Mary circles, then sits down, settling in and getting comfortable. She uncoils and reaches out to nudge Beatrice gently where she’s examining the shifts in some stones very conscientiously. “And I promise not to look over.”

“Mary.”

“What?” She shrugs, casually puts out a strong claw and kicks Beatrice firmly off the parapet. “Time to go-o.”

There’s a shower of stone fragments as Beatrice shakes and gathers herself to snap and snarl halfheartedly and harmlessly up at her from the ground. 

Mary looks over the edge and shakes her head, grinning. “Oh, baby girl,” she tsks, “Don’t tell me you need me to teach you how to fuck her.”

“Mary!”

Mary’s laughter echoes as Beatrice turns and steals into the darkness, necks hot with embarrassment. “Now hurry up, Beatrice,” her call seeps, howling, into the roots. It warps with the topography of the earth into something deep and old, sinking its frigid teeth into Beatrice’s bones. But the shape of the wind whipping past Beatrice’s ears is fond and teasing in its turbulence as she tears through the thicket. “Your poor girl’s waiting for you.”

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

❄️To Run Afoul of Winter❄️

(Not my Gif.)

Request by: @unstablereader

Title: To Run Afoul of Winter

Word Count: 12,000

Warnings: Casual violence, some language, seasonal depression, segmented flashbacks.

Summary: In your human life you had been born a cripple - a frail, feeble little thing barely clinging to life. It was a miracle you survived long enough to join your siblings in becoming the first vampires. Bouts of what your family called Frost-Sickness kept you bed ridden each winter and despite your twin brother's efforts to cheer you up, life just hardly seemed worth living. When you turned, your body grew stronger, but so did your mental affliction. This is your story. || Mikaelson Family x sibling!reader || Here lies my Masterlist ||

A/N: This was written in like two days of an absolute writing frenzy. I know the request would have preferred Klaus to be the reader's twin but I just couldn't figure that out in my brain. Sorry! I hope you like it anyway. Also, one more thing. This fic is the first official fic of Cassie's Christmas at the Compound 2022 which I'll be kicking off later today as I was too lazy to do it on Dec. 1st. Thanks for being here and supporting my writing. Happy reading!

❄️STORY BEGINS BELOW❄️

Northern Virginia, Viking Colony: December 21st, 998 A.D.

"Sister?" You recognized the speaker instantly - you always had and you always would. Just as one always recognizes their own reflection, you could never forget the voice of your other half. 

You didn't say anything in reply, offering a soft hum instead. You didn't feel much like talking.

"We're lighting the bonfires," He continued. "Come along now before you miss all the fun!"

That wasn't really what he'd said all those years ago. No, your native language had long since been lost to time, morphing into a variety of tongues since then. You and your siblings were likely the only ones in the world who still knew it in its pure form - not that you spoke it anymore. You hadn't spoken your native language in so long, not even with each other. There was something lonely about it and the lot of you were already so alone.

Especially you. After all, what did you have besides dreams to keep you company in your most quiet estate? But that was beside the point.

"Really?" You lifted your head from the pile of skins that made up your bed. "They're starting so soon?" 

Standing in the doorway, the boy’s dark eyes widened in alarm that quickly faded into concern. "Y/N…" He began cautiously. "What day do you think it is?"

You had thought about that. Of course, you should have known something so trivial yet so vital to your livelihood but keeping track of the days seemed like such an exhausting chore. Akin to many things lately.

"Is it not eleven days to winter?" You asked, tilting your head. Then again, the village was lighting bonfires… but no, you couldn't have been Frost Sick for seventeen days! That was absurd.

Your twin's lips pressed into a thin line - they did that when he was worried and that was how you knew it must have been serious. For Kol son of Mikael was so rarely a worried soul.

The boy shook his head. "Y/N, it's the first day of Year's End - of bonfire season…" His voice thinned, close to breaking. "The harvest is plentiful, the moon is waning, and Odin smiles upon us. Can you not abate the sickness but one evening? Will you not join us?" He entreated you. "Will you not join me?" And oh how your twin had cherished the season so. Always first to cast his wish into the flames, always the first to dance, always the first to smile and laugh like the boy he had been so long, long ago. 

You didn't want to disappoint him, but you felt so weak. The chill of the evening air pricked at your skin and bones, threatening to sink into your very soul. "I-I don't-"

"Please, sister? Bring your blankets with you if you must, just please come celebrate?" Your brother begged. His eyes were once wide with innocence, love, concern, and yearning. His eyes didn't look like that anymore. For long since had darkness shrouded them, rendering their pine-bark depths as hollow and empty as this memory that you sought comfort in. The boy standing before you in your dream was naught but an illusion. Your twin had perished in the dark, alone and frightened, in years left to history long since forgotten. 

And the creation that had taken his place?

You weren't entirely sure who he belonged to. For certainly he was your sweet, fun-loving, intuitive brother often enough but from time to time the bloodlust consumed him entirely and that creature was not one you recognized. He was not your twin.

Just so with all your siblings, if you were honest. They all had faded away - shells of the family you knew and adored. Animosity had grown between each of them. All except you. 

"Y/N?" His voice called to you again. Oh, how you missed the innocence in it. 

You lifted your head, clutching your blankets as you stood on frail, trembling, legs. "Coming! I'm coming, brother." 

The boy grinned and raced out the door. You followed him eagerly despite your limp. Passing under the arched doorway of your family's hovel, you found the scene outside blurred and out of focus. You blinked and your vision sharpened, although now you were no longer standing just outside your home. 

Northern Virginia, Viking Colony: October 31st, 988 A.D.

You were kneeling on a patch of frost-covered grass in front of a pile of wood stacked haphazardly. Kol knelt beside you and the sky overhead was bleak and gray.

"Show me again, brother," You demanded, buzzing with excitement, though you couldn't quite remember what for. "Please show me it again? I want to see."

"Y/N, you know father hates it," He said, frowning.

"Father isn't here and I won't tell him," You argued. "Please, Kol?"

"I don't know…"

Your voice quieted. "You're the only one that can help me," You insisted. "The Frost Sickness tugs at the edges of my mind even now. Your light is the only thing that keeps it at bay."

"Alright," He conceded with a sigh. "Just don't let it touch the firewood."

You nodded eagerly and held out your hands. Kol rubbed his own together vigorously before moving them close to his lips. 

"Incendia," He whispered. A spark burst in the air before his lips with a splitting crack and before long, bright orange flames leaped between his fingers. Some in your village whispered that Kol was cursed but you didn't believe them. Your brother was blessed by Frigga with the gift that was magic and he was brilliant in his craft. The boy grinned and glanced up at you. His eyes seemed lighter then, like a sunset. "Ready?" 

"Yes," You breathed, still in awe of your brother's magic. This was not the first you'd seen of it but it still amazed you all the same. "Yes, I'm ready."

Kol offered you another sweet smile. Shuffling a little closer, he gathered the fire in his hands before tilting them and letting it pour into your waiting palms. The flames flickered and danced, licking your fingers as they sent wave after wave of warmth radiating through your body and soul. You sighed. The magical fire burned away the creepings of your Frost Sickness, postponing it a little longer. You were lucky to have a twin like Kol for only the flames of his witchcraft could assist you with your illness.

You memorized his face then, the innocent, joyous, impishly youthful smile on his cheeks and in his eyes cast in the warm glow of the fire held in your palms. He hadn't smiled like that in so long. So, so long.

Northern Virginia, Viking Colony: March 31st, 989 A.D.

Left to your reverie only a moment, the scene before you shifted once again. It was spring, glorious spring all around you. The flowers were in bloom, the trees burst with leaves, and you were once again awake - wide awake. Crossing a bubbling brook with the confident leaps of a small child, undeterred by your bad leg, you admired the beauty of the moss-covered stones you employed as your bridge before continuing on to explore the forest. 

Along with having been born frail, you had also been born with a bad leg. The bones were a little misshapen and it couldn't support your weight. Ayana - the village's healer and foremost practitioner of magic, had fashioned you a splint to help you walk, and you had since refused to let it slow you down. Niklaus had carved for you a walking stick for balance and though you couldn't run, you could skip with the proficiency of a stone on a smooth lake. You danced between the trees as you chased a beautiful butterfly through the brush when a nearby shout brought you to a swift halt.

"Y/N!" That was the voice of your eldest brother, Finn. He didn't sound very pleased. Although, then again, Finn was rather easy to upset. 

"Be gentle, Finn." A different voice chastened. Elijah. "Y/N! Come out, little one!"

This, of course, only prompted you to duck behind a tree to hide as the footsteps of your brothers drew ever nearer. 

"Y/N!" Finn called again, attempting to sound a little less stern. "I swear, that child and her tvíburi are creations of Loki."

"You had best hope not," Elijah advised. "If either of them grow to be any more clever or cunning, then I fear we'll never be able to find them." 

You couldn't help the giggle that left your lips at his statement as you were rather flattered by his praise. Their footsteps began to fade a moment later and you peered out from your hiding spot to check.

"GOTCHA!" Without warning, two arms wrapped around you from behind and hoisted you into the air. You shrieked in surprise but soon began to laugh as you realized that it was Elijah who had captured you. He smiled warmly. "Hello, little one."

"How did you find me?" You wined, pouting a little. 

"Simple," Finn supplied. "We merely listened for the sound of complete disobedience and followed that."

Elijah sighed. "Finn…"

"No, brother. She needs to be taught," Finn said. He rounded on you again. "What were you thinking, running off on your own like that? Do you have any idea what could have happened? You could have gotten lost! You could have died!"

"B-but I was chasing pretty butterfly," You whimpered, beginning to tear up. 

"I don't care what you were doing!" Finn shouted. "Do you know what a wolf would do if it found you? Or Odin forbid - a bear? It would have-"

"Enough, Finn!" Elijah demanded. "That's enough!"

"Is it?" Your eldest brother argued. "Is she too young to understand the danger her frailty will bring to all of us? You know how mother worries about her. Tell me, Elijah - look at her! Is she not so very light to carry?"

"She is but a child," Elijah sighed. He knew Finn spoke the truth. You had been born small. Even now, you were hardly more than half the weight of your twin brother. 

"Rebekah is younger and yet she is heartier still and more stable on her feet." Finn stepped closer, lowering his voice. "You and Niklaus were always so fond of her. But how long do you really think Y/N will last - afflicted as she is? By tradition, Father should have left her to the gods."

You did not understand his words at the time. But no matter what Finn said, you weren't afraid. Finn liked to worry - he never wanted you to do anything - but Elijah, you knew, would always protect you. Nothing bad would ever happen as long as Elijah was there. And even as a child, you knew he always would be.

Elijah stood up a little straighter. "He tried if you recall. He left her in the woods all the night long but the forest would not take her. A fox and vixen stood guard over her until morning; small as she is, they deemed her worthy."

Finn didn't reply, or if he did, you didn't hear. You were far too busy watching a robin make its nest not far away until Elijah spoke to you again.

"Y/N, might you happen to know where your troublesome tvíburi is?"

"Noooooooo…." You lied. You absolutely knew where he was - you always did.

"I think you do," Elijah coaxed, poking you in the ribs. Giggling, you shook your head.

"I don't, though."

"He's probably attempting to burn one of our neighbor's homes to the ground," Finn suggested with a sigh.

Elijah sent you a questioning look and you shook your head again. 

"No!"

"Or torturing some innocent animal…"

"No, we're doing that tomorrow."

"Or hiding everyone's left boot…"

You giggled. Now, that was a fond, fond memory. It took Sven two days to find his boot and by that time he already had a foot full of splinters.

"Or putting worms in someone's pillow - likely mine…"

"Couldn't find any worms - they're still sleeping," You replied with a shrug.

"Or-"

"Alright! I'll tell you!" You finally huffed, rolling your eyes. "But don't tell Father."

"You have my word," Elijah promised before Finn could say anything. Your eldest brother had some annoying traits but he wouldn't make a liar out of Elijah. 

"Kol is making protection wards for Henrick and for everyone so bad things won't happen to us," You informed them in a whisper - this was a secret after all.

"Why is he making them, little sister?" Elijah wondered. 

You just shrugged. "I know not. He said something about having a bad dream last night."

"I see, and what's that little miscreant got you doing?" Finn asked. 

"Picking berries," You answered simply. Elijah let you down and you took each brother by the hand as they began walking back towards the village. 

"Berries? Why?" 

"Snacks!" You chirped. Then you tugged on their hands. "Swing me!" You commanded, bringing your knees up. Finn rolled his eyes but both your siblings caved to your demands, swinging you back and forth between them as they walked you home.

Northern Virginia, Viking Colony: November 10th 1000 A.D.

When the world shifted yet again, you were met with a familiar blackness. The furs of your bed brushed over your skin and the midsummer night was warm and wet though the cool draft breezing through the cave made it rather pleasant. Light from the full moon shone down through a crack in the ceiling overhead but you didn't mind - you liked the nightlight. The rustling of blankets sounded on your right and before long, the dark outline of one of your siblings was creeping its way toward the mouth of the cave. You sat up and pursued as silently as you could in spite of your limp. Though you tried your best, the walking stick Nik had carved for you clacked against the stone floor, alerting whoever was sneaking out to your presence. Still, you waited until you were out of earshot of the rest of your family to speak up.

"Where are you going?" You hissed into the dark, unsure who was doing the sneaking. The figure froze.

"Go back to sleep, Y/N," Niklaus's voice whispered back.

You stepped closer. "Nik? What are you up to?"

"Nothing." His response was too quick to be the truth. "Don't worry about it. Just return to your dreams."

"But I do worry about you, Niklaus," You said. "I know you admire the wolves - I can feel your curiosity." You had always been in tune with the thoughts and emotions of those around you. Sensing them came rather naturally to you, just as spellcasting came so easily to Kol. Somehow Niklaus's emotions had always been the most vibrant of all your siblings and his thoughts the easiest to read. It was probably why the two of you were so close.

"Your magic is growing stronger then?" Nik tried to change the subject but you didn't fall for it, knowing what weighed on his mind. You stepped closer, tilting your head.

"You feel like somehow… you belong with them… as if you're meant to be up there running with the pack." Your brows furrowed and your mouth twisted into a frown. Your eyes grew unfocused and your voice took on a droning quality. "Running. Yes, running. Running underneath the moon and the stars but not the sun. Running. Yes, running on and on forever… always and forever. Running. Running for eternity. Running wild, running scared, running hungry, running blind. Running cursed. Yes, we'll all be running cursed…"

"Y/N?" Niklaus jabbed your shoulder. When that didn't stop your mumbling, he took hold of your shoulders and gave you a firm shake. "Y/N, snap out of it!"

You blinked, shaking your head. Then you looked up. It wasn't odd for you to have visions. You had quite a few of them while your brother had only ever received maybe one or two. Most were rather mundane or just complete rubbish but every so often you would be privy to a glimpse into the future. This night had been one such time, though you hadn't realized the true extent of your visions' significance. You remembered this night. Yes, you remembered it all too well. It was but one year to the day that your mother cursed you all.

"Niklaus, do you not love me?" You asked suddenly, feeling tears prick your eyes.

"What? Of course, I do!" He insisted. "Why ask such a ridiculous question?"

"Because you feel like you belong with them - with the wolves," You explained. "But I don't want you to be with them. I want you to be here with me… and Finn, and Elijah, and Kol, and Rebekah, and Henrick. I don't want you to go and replace me."

Niklaus smiled fondly, reaching out to ruffle your hair. "Oh, sweet little sister… How could I ever replace you?"

"With a dog," You muttered.

He shook his head. "A dog can't find the perfect flowers to make paint out of - not like you can. I love you, Y/N. I'll always love you."

"Then don't sneak out to see the wolves," You pleaded. "They hurt someone tomorrow… or yesterday… I don't know. Can't remember the order. " The events were all jumbled up in your head. Past, present, and future all existed simultaneously and you had no way to distinguish which one was which.

"Did you have a vision?" He demanded. You nodded.

"Things change when you go," You told him. "Wait a little longer? I want one more bonfire season before this era comes to an end."

It wasn’t his fault that he didn’t understand what your words or your prophecy had meant - you hardly understood them yourself most times and the rest of your siblings stopped trying. Not that it mattered anymore. You no longer had visions, no longer cast spells nor drew wards. It wasn’t long after that night that everything fell apart. Henrick died and your mother cursed your family and everything - everyone - fell apart. 

Finn lost himself to self-loathing. He became as winter itself - cold and distant. Though you tried to reconnect with him, it seemed to you as though that was the last thing he wanted. 

Outskirts of Rome, Italy: May, 18th 1156

It was summer if your recollection served - your recollection of the last moments you spent alone with him before Niklaus decided he was a danger to himself and the rest of you, that was. You had sought him out that afternoon. You were the only one to do so as the rest of your siblings had given up attempting to include him.

But that wasn’t you. 

It was how you and your twin were different. Kol had always been a bit of a flake, however, he was an extremely prudent one, to his credit. He would come at a problem a thousand different ways, but would never try the same solution twice. On the other hand, you liked things simple and direct and knew that sometimes a problem requires tenacity. You just hadn’t been ready to let go of Finn. Abrasive as he was, you loved him.

“Do you mind if I join you, brother?” You asked, having finally found him. He sat leaning against the base of a mighty oak tree at the edge of a summer meadow. The grass was bright green and the sky a brilliant blue - it was your favorite time of the year.

Finn glanced up, his expression unguarded as it was, displaying a lost sort of melancholy. “I suppose you may,” He said. You smiled and sat down beside him, leaning your head on his shoulder. You were still so small for your age. Despite having turned eighteen merely a week before Henrick died, your appearance could pass for that of a fifteen-year-old. You looked more like Henrick’s twin than Kol’s.

“What are you doing all the way out here?” You wondered, watching the white puffy clouds drift overhead.

Finn shrugged. “Just… sitting quietly,” He replied. He did this quite often, though you were more inclined to think of it as wallowing in self-pity. Not that you would say that out loud. The last thing Finn needed was more mockery, though your siblings didn’t seem to see that. Finn was a bit more like you it seemed. Your family and village had always called it Frost-Sickness, though as the world developed and greater advancements were made in the realm of medicine, you came to discover in later years that your condition was labeled Seasonal Depression. It was a sickness of the mind rather than the body and saw to it that your moods were more heavily influenced by the weather than those of other people. 

Thus, Finn you figured, must have been a bit like you. Except the rain cloud which hovered over his head was not quite as severe and certainly less predictable. Though it didn’t leave him bedridden as it did you, his bouts of sadness came and went as they pleased and when they came they drew him further and further away from his siblings.

“What about you?” Finn asked, fiddling with a branch he’d picked up off the ground. “Why are you here, sister?”

You shrugged. “Kol can be really loud sometimes,” You said simply. 

Finn hummed his agreement, nodding. “That he can.”

“There are days when I find it impressive,” you admitted, voice pensive. “but today is not one of those days.” You planned to continue adding elements to your reasoning until you won a laugh from him. You were the only one of your siblings who could make Finn laugh. “And then Niklaus joins him and you know how those two get when they drink together so may God have mercy on that poor, poor, tavern -” Finn huffed, rolling his eyes. “Then, bloody hell, I don’t know whose idea it was to invent Pub Archery but let's hope it doesn’t catch on, otherwise Italy will have gained a new sport and we’ll have to listen to those two gloat about it for the rest of the century.”

“Pub Archery?” Your brother questioned, raising a brow.

You nodded. “Indeed.”

“Dare I ask?”

“Well, the rules are dubious at best but from what I can tell, a mug of ale is placed on a table halfway between the wall and wherever the player is standing. A bow and an arrow with a mid-sized hook affixed to the shaft are given to whoever is currently in play. Apparently, Kol has officially dubbed this position “the Arse in Question” - he was very clear about that when explaining the game to me.” You shrugged and continued. “Anyway, the Arse in Question then attempts to send the arrow through the handle of the mug, while doing their best to ensure that the fish hook catches on the handle as the arrow passes through it. Their goal is to lodge the arrow in the wall with the mug of ale still on it. If the mug is still somewhat full by the time the Arse in Question can make his or her way over to it then they are awarded the proper number of points and they have to drink whatever is left. Three points for a full pint, two points for half-full, and one point for a quarter pint. Now if the mug falls off, or the arrow fails to remain in the wall, then the Arse in Question loses five points.”

Finn frowned, slightly confused. “And what if the… bowman were to miss the mug on the table completely?”

“Well, in that case, he takes a shot.”

Your brother rolled his eyes. “When does this game - if it can be called that - end?”

“I haven’t the faintest,” You shrugged, shaking your head. “Though, so far I think it may be with whoever is the first to pass out. According to Rebekah, there’s a fifteen-point penalty for fainting, so I’d assume at least competitive play ends after that. I didn’t stick around long enough to inquire further. I value my eyes.”

“Smart decision,” He said with an approving nod. “And does Elijah know of this latest depraved scheme?”

You sent him a look. “Elijah’s the self-appointed referee,” You deadpanned. Your second eldest brother liked to believe he had some maturity and admittedly he had more than you, Kol, Nik, or Bekah, but it really wasn’t much.

“He approves?” Your bother asked in slight disbelief. 

“Elijah’s responsibility is a facade. What is a wall of stone to outsiders, we know to be a bride’s veil,” You said sagely, nodding solemnly. 

And finally, finally, Finn laughed. It had been years since you had heard him laugh. It was a soft chuckle, not much at all, but it was there and you knew better than most that sometimes that’s the best someone can give.

“You make a fine point, little one,” Finn mused, patting your hand. “Would you like me to talk some sense into them?” 

You snorted. “Right. Good luck with that, mikill göltur.” You gestured lazily with a few reeds you had plucked and were now playing with absently. “By all means, go right ahead; although, I must warn you that the aroma of that establishment is a fine shade of brown.”

Your eldest brother grimaced at your description. “I see. In that case, I think I’ll leave Elijah to deal with them.” He leaned back against the tree, folding his arms behind his head. 

“You should go see that Sage woman again,” You prompted, entirely out of the blue. It amused you to see the blush that covered your eldest brother’s cheeks at your suggestion. He was fond of her.

“W-what on earth makes you say that?” He sputtered, casting his gaze pointedly to the sky.

“She makes you happy,” You answered, plain and simple. That was who you were, plain and simple. “I like seeing my siblings happy - all of them.” With that, you tossed your creation - a corsage woven from wildflowers - into his lap and hopped to your feet. “Now go see her!” You commanded, nudging his knee with your foot.

He sat up. “Perhaps I will.” 

“Good!” You turned and began to skip away.

“But only if you talk to that blacksmith lad!” Finn called after you. You froze. Whipping around on your heel, you gaped, staring at him with wide E/C eyes. He just shrugged, smug as could be. 

That was the last you saw of your eldest brother. Nik put a dagger in his heart and then there were five.

Now, Elijah on the other hand, was not Finn. They were radically different and Elijah got lost in his own way.

See, Elijah was hungry and he killed Tatia. He killed his love and the grief consumed him. He became so obsessed with somehow making it right as if keeping his hands clean from then on could somehow remove the stain of her blood. You knew what he’d done and you didn’t blame him but through the next hundred years and on it almost seemed to you as though he forgot. It was odd, but you chose not to bring it up; perhaps that was a mistake on your part. So it was that instead of drawing away from you and your siblings, Elijah drew closer. He viewed it as his responsibility to watch over the family and keep everyone together. What Elijah could not see, however, was that some things are simply fated to fall apart.

Somewhere Off the Coast of Cadiz, Spain: June 22nd, 1730

Five hundred years after you spoke to Finn beneath that tree in Italy, you found yourself in front of Elijah in the somewhat damp confines of a cargo hold in a ship just off the coast of Cadiz, Spain. Behind him stood two caskets and inside one of them was your twin brother, immobilized and in excruciating agony. You could practically feel the dagger in your own chest yet Elijah refused to let you free him. 

“Move aside, Elijah!”

“I’ve said no and my answer is final,” Your brother repeated. “Kol will remain as he is until such a time as Father is half the world behind us. Only then will we risk reviving him.”

“That’s not fair!” You argued.

“Oh I do believe it is,” He countered, crossing his arms and looking down at you. He was much taller than you were. “It was Kol’s mass slaughter in Cadiz that led Father right to us and clearly nothing you or I have said to him has made an impact.This was never my first course of action, Y/N. But until you should devise some other more prudent method to disway your brother from devouring the entire town, I’m afraid this is how things must be. He. Must. Learn. Control.”

You rolled your eyes and huffed, long since tired of his condemnations and hypocrisy - intentional or not. “He’s our brother and for the millionth time, Elijah: That’s not the problem! It’s not his fault if he can’t control it, because you lot have never given him a reason to!”

“That is preposterous and you know it,” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Do I?” You demanded. “It’s always you, Rebekah, and Niklaus. That Always and Forever pact - that was you three. It wasn’t us! I knew that you would make it before you did and yet nether of us were a part of it! Whenever the three of you do something, you never think to invite him along. The few times you and Nik actually ask all of us to vote on a decision, you don’t give our opinions half the weight you give to Rebekah’s.” 

Elijah frowned and held up a hand to stop you. “That is not remotely true. I view each-”

“No, you don’t,” You hissed, fighting the tears pooling in your eyes. “You hardly even notice us when we’re in the room with you, unless one of us is shouting and if either of us leaves, you might as well forget we exist entirely! I remember one time when Kol just up and left - said he was going to catch one of the bloody crusades.” You laughed but there wasn’t much humor in it. “He was gone for five and a half months and you didn’t even notice!”

“I did notice, actually.”

You glared at him. “I distinctly recall you commenting about how quiet it was one morning, after he’d been away three months. I told you he left. You were surprised and then you went right back to your book; you didn’t even ask where he’d gone!”

“I suppose I would have if such a question mattered, but unfortunately, Kol can look after himself,” Elijah said in disdain. You were aware that Elijah had carried a grudge towards Kol since the day the two of you were born. Though he’d never said it out loud, he’d always thought of your twin as a leach because he’d been born strong and you had been so frail. “He excels at it.”

“Because you don’t care to do the job!” You exclaimed. “You discount our opinions and refuse to see either of us as anything more than children. I mean, you hardly so much as look at me unless I’m attempting something you deem too dangerous. I hardly dare speak to a boy, even if he’s naught but a servant, lest I ensure that Niklaus shall orchestrate some awful accident to befall the poor lad. Both me and Kol - you see us only as another burden you bear and you ignore any attempt we make to change your mind.”

Aside from Kol, all your siblings had always seen you as weak and in need of protection - Elijah most of all. His eyes narrowed and he looked over you with scrutiny. 

“Always so quick to defend him,” He huffed. “If what you claim is true, then how have you mastered the control he so completely lacks?”

“It’s different for me,” You insisted. “My magic was different.”

“How was it different?” 

You bit your lip, mulling over your answer. You wanted to get this right, wanted to make him understand that the bloodthirsty monster he condemned was merely a prison and that your sweet, bubbly twin brother was locked somewhere deep inside. 

“My magic was more constant, I think,” You started, speaking slowly. “You must understand brother, magic wasn’t just something Kol and I did; it was something we were, it was a part of us, but I think we each felt it in a different way. He was so good at spell casting - at manifesting his very will into reality. I was always better at seeing, sensing, feeling, and just knowing the thoughts and emotions of everyone - everything - around me. My magic was a blanket, a quiet comforting reassurance that I wasn’t alone and that nature was looking out for me.” That loss still weighed on your soul every single day. You sighed but continued anyway, “But for Kol I think it was more like water. He’s always hated feeling helpless, and for him, I think magic meant that there was always something he could do to fight back.”

“Fight back?” He questioned. Your expression grew grim, eyes darkening. 

“Against Father,” You said. “You know Father hated Niklaus most but Kol was always the next he would hit. Magic wasn’t a luxury for Kol - it was his survival. When he first tapped into it, our brother knocked Mikael flat on his ass - Kol earned Father’s respect. For him magic was a thrill, a lightning excitement, power, and reassurance, both a sword and a shield, and a bonfire wish - it was everything. It was like water - and like water, its absence consumes him. He tells me often now that it’s much too quiet. He can’t stand the silence - the vulnerability maddens him. He didn’t mean to bring Mikael upon us… He fears father more than you know.”

“And you do not?” Elijah challenged, regarding you strangely. Again you thought about your answer. 

“No,” You decided after a moment. Your brother frowned, shaking his head. 

“You are not such a fool as that, lítil víx,” He said with a disapproving gaze. He called you little vixen - the fox’s, smaller, swifter, and wiser counterpart. 

He turned to leave the cargo hold, knowing you would not disobey him, but you whipped around and caught his sleeve.

“I do not fear him as much as I once did,” You amended, looking your brother dead in the eyes. “Father fears death, he always has though I did not see it then. Knowing that what he fears is so common, so natural, and so inevitable a thing, my fear of him has dwindled. I think I more pity him now than I fear him. For how very sad it is that he hunts us with no other purpose than to destroy that which reared into being. How very sad it is that he disregards the exuberant beauty all around him in favor of his hatred. How very sad indeed.”

Your second eldest brother blinked, taking a moment to completely process what you’d said. “I suppose you’re right,” He said slowly, nodding. Then he frowned. “Do you not fear death, Y/N?”

You smiled softly. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.” You glanced towards the coffin that would imprison your twin brother for far, far, too long. “But I do not fear it as Mikael did, nor as Esther did. I anticipate it, I think. I anticipate it as one anticipates the surprises a new day might bring. Good or bad - it’s a new experience; though it shall certainly be nice to be free of the Frost-Sickness, I think. However that may be.”

Your brother considered your words but you knew they would not change his mind. For your family was frozen in body and mind and that was how you would remain for the rest of eternity. You were as eighteen then as you’d been one hundred years before… Well, perhaps you were slightly more. Each year only seemed to make you stronger, faster, sharper, and more eighteen. Time was the seal of your mother’s spell. Immortality polarized.

“I know you miss him, Y/N,” Elijah said with a heavy sigh. “But this is for the best.” 

You hung your head and nodded, allowing the tears in your eyes to spill down your cheeks freely for a little while. Your older brother reached out and brought you into his embrace, letting you cry as long as you needed. “Then I have just one request, if you’ll grant it,” You proposed, voice chipping like the stained glass windows of cathedrals you so dearly loved. 

“What is it, little one?”

“Don’t wake him while I’m sleeping?” You sniffed. “I don’t want him to be sad.”

“You have my word, lítil víx,” He promised.

Then there were four. 

It wasn’t that you forgave Elijah. No, that would take time. Rather you simply could never bring yourself to hate any of your siblings. Not even Niklaus. As much pain as he caused, as much terror as he sewed, and as much paranoia as he reaped, you could never bring yourself to hate your dearest artist. Bastard, hybrid, abomination - none of those labels ever phased you because he was still the quiet, loving brother who painted you flowers when you were Frost-Sick. 

It didn’t matter to you that he had killed your mother.

You loved him anyway.

London, England: October 16th, 1702

“I see your skill with a brush is improving, Nik!” You declared, flouncing into the second-floor study that your brother had commandeered as his studio. “You have perfectly captured the Siberian tundra. Congratulations. Though, your depiction might have been better had you simply left the canvas as you found it.” You smirked to yourself, rather satisfied with your wit, as you reclined in the overstuffed chair you dragged into the room behind you.

Niklaus let go of a long sigh and returned the brush he was working with to a basin of water he kept beside him. When he spoke, he did not turn to address you.

“May I ask what I did to warrant myself deserving of such bite from my littlest sister?” He asked, calm and fluid. He wasn’t in a good mood - you could tell. Thus you wanted to stay all the more. Perhaps you could cheer each other up. 

“I am not even that short,” You stated. Niklaus tossed a different brush, still covered in paint, over his shoulder, aimed for your face. You lept to dodge it with a giggle. “Secondly, it’s the season - I simply can’t help it.”

It was autumn in the city of London and the year was 1702, only a hand full of years before your family relocated to Cadiz and then later, New Orleans. Autumn was a difficult time of year for you as it was when the Frost-Sickness began to take hold. It had only grown worse since your transition into a creature of the night, just as everything about you had been enhanced. Though the Frost-Sickness could no longer afflict you with illness as it had when you were human - keeping you bedridden or even unconscious for days or weeks at a time - it could now do arguably worse. 

As autumn came, you could feel your mind and body begin to weaken. You felt frayed and tired and uncomfortable in a body that had for too long remained unchanged. You felt the loss of your magic so much more keenly and the loneliness that caused was far too acute. As the season wore on, it would only grow worse until you knew only misery. At that point, the silver daggers Niklaus had kept seemed like mercy, and without Kol’s magic to keep your head above water, you had willingly begged for their employ. They were your only escape from the pain that came with winter.

“Oh, how tragic,” Klaus remarked. You could practically hear him rolling his eyes. “Where’s your twin?”

“On a bender,” You deadpanned.

Nik huffed. “Figures. Go annoy him. I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to entertain you.”

You gasped in full shock. “Nik! How could you say that?”

“Simple. I pass air between my lips - like this!” He twisted around and stuck his tongue out at you.

You continued, unbothered. “I do not annoy, brother. I berate. There’s a difference.” 

“An impressive distinction, to be sure.”

“And yes, I am sure Kol would love to entertain me if he were not otherwise preoccupied entertaining someone else.” 

Klaus groaned. “What’s he done now and do I need to dagger him for it?”

“Please don’t make me think about it longer than necessary, but no.” You frowned, shuddering. 

“Now you have to tell me,” Your older brother grinned.

“I’m pretty sure he’s endevoring to sleep with the entire female population of London.”

“...Wow.”

“Indeed.”

He whistled and returned to working on that painting of his. “Well, you have to admire his audacity if nothing else,” Nik chuckled. 

You made a noise that was certainly anything but ladylike, followed by a gesture that was far worse. “I absolutely do not have to admire any aspect of him!” You exclaimed. You had hoped Klaus would have been just slightly more decent - if only for the sake of propriety. “He may be a strumpet of a man, but I am not. I am a lady.”

“I don’t see why this upsets you so,” He hummed, shaking his head. 

You huffed. “Because unfortunately, I am also his genetic copy. Therefore - technically speaking - if he’s slept with them, then I’ve slept with them! Which, admittedly, wouldn’t bother me if this were not the absolute bloody cesspool that is the bloody city of London!”

You’d expected him to laugh, and he did just a little bit, but it wasn’t nearly what you wanted. Dirty jokes almost always cheered Nik up and hearing him laugh never failed to make you laugh. Peering over his shoulder, you caught a glimpse of gray fur. He was painting wolves again. 

“Must be nice,” He mused a while later, having left you to silence for over a half hour.

“What?”

“Having a twin as you do,” He explained, voice wistful and far away. “Having someone you belong with completely, a reflection of yourself you know could not betray you nor abandon you any than the sea can abandon the shore. Must be nice.”

“Its not all bliss,” You reminded him, sitting up in your chair. “Kol still agrivates the living daylights out of me.”

“Such is the nature of being Kol.”

You nodded but said nothing, allowing him a moment with his thoughts before you asked the question he so desperately wanted to hear. “What’s wrong Niklaus?”

He sighed, though it sounded broken.

“Do you ever miss our mother, Y/N?” He asked.

You stilled. Out of all your siblings, you were the only one who knew what Niklaus had done. How he had murdered your mother. You had received visions of the moment throughout your life but particularly often in the months before it occurred. He didn’t know. You had never told him.

“Why ask me that, brother?” You returned, tilting your head.

“Because I want to know if this grief that still weighs so heavy on my soul is mine own fault or her’s.” He eyed you with a flat stare and you nodded, pressing your lips together. You didn’t want to hurt his feelings but you didn’t think your answer was one he would like. 

“I loved our mother dearly,” You eventually decided to say after a few beats of silence had passed between you. “But I do not miss her as you do.”

Nik’s voice trembled and the paintbrush clutched in his fist snapped. 

“Why?”

You smiled thinly. “Because I knew her as you do not.”

Your brother glanced up, meeting your eyes with an expression that demanded you explain yourself. You sighed heavily. It was time to come clean.

“I know what you did, Nik.”

His entire body stiffened, his eyes widening in alarm and terror.

“I know you killed her.” You shrugged. “I’m not mad.”

He drew in a sharp breath, shaking his head, his expression a mixture of guilt, relief, and confusion.

“How? W-why?” He choked out, unable to grasp the concept you’d laid in front of him.

“Because you’re my brother and I love you,” You said, smiling as though it was as simple as the words would imply. “Esther loved all of us in her own way, but that was not how a mother should. She loved the idea of children but the reality was more difficult than she had predicted and she struggled to understand her place, I think. Esther was barren, you see. She tapped into some very dark rituals to change that. Thus, we are all products of dark magic and such things so rarely receive a generous fortune from the spirits of nature. So we were all damned from the start, I think.” Pulling yourself to stand on legs that were still so frail, you wandered over to a side table and picked up the brush that rested upon it. You began moving it through your H/C hair in careful strokes. “In the end, Mother paid the price for her selfishness, I suppose. I don’t blame you. I cannot blame you, Niklaus lest I blame myself equally because that woman never loved any of us enough to save our souls and for that, I am simply unable to forgive her. I may never be able to.”

Tears slipped down your brother’s face. “But she loved you. I know she loved you most of all,” He said, through gritted teeth. 

You nodded, huffing a slight laugh. “That she did. Actually, I think she loved me a little too much.”

“You reminded her of Freya,” Klaus whispered. “Of her firstborn, the one she lost to plague.”

“I know.”

“She worried for you constantly, terrified some sickness would take you just as it took Freya.”

“I know.”

“When your Frost-Sickness rendered you unconscious, she nery left your side!”

“I know.”

Klaus clenched his teeth and growled. “Yet still you whine like a spoiled cat!” He spat, rage and jealousy now taking the forefront in his aquamarine eyes. “You never suffered our father’s rage, never had to labor as the rest of us did to please him, you were always doted apon by everyone - never had to feel as though you didn’t belong, as though you had you earn your place! How dare you take all that for granted.” 

Your jaw locked and you gently placed the brush down to avoid crushing the fine wood into splinters. Inhaling deeply, you fixed your gaze on your brother. “I have never taken for granted anything that was given to me. The sun, the moon, the stars, the trees, the rivers, the land, and more than anything this family have I given thanks for every single day I have been allotted. You, Niklaus, know not what it is to wake up, surprised that you made it another day. You, Niklaus, do not understand what it is to rejoice in the unfathomable agony that plagues your bones as it means that you’re alive. You, my brother, cannot comprehend what it is to put off sleep in fear that you may not see the next dawn - nor to fight through a hell of your mind’s own making for no other cause than for the love of family.” You shook your head, disappointed in him. “Do not call me ungrateful, Niklaus.” 

“Then why do you think of our mother with contempt when even I who took her life cannot forgive myself?!” He bellowed. His voice and eyes were hollow and broken, his soul desperate for an answer to his heart’s riddle. 

You could feel yourself begin to cry as well. Not for your own sake, but for his. 

“Her love wasn’t for me, Nik,” You sniffed. “It wasn’t mine - it was Freya’s.”

“N-no… She-”

“I grew up smothered by a shadow of love and regret that never had anything to do with me!” You cried, wrapping your arms around yourself as if they might contain the pain that threatened to tear you apart. “Mother’s doting wasn’t compassion! It was obsession! She thought that if she could just fix her past mistakes that it might somehow change how things were for us, but it was always a lie. A fairytale.”

When your older brother opened his arms, you ran to him, and he embraced you as any older brother should. You had aimed to cheer him up, but such was not the outcome. Sometimes things don’t work out the way they’re planned and Niklaus just let you cry. At the end of the day, your siblings would always be there for you - even if it was only at the very end.

“What’s worse was that I knew, I felt it every second,” You sobbed into his shirt, clinging to him like a plank of wood in a storm-tossed sea. “I saw myself in her eyes and believe me when I say that through them I know what our dearly departed sister looked like. She even called me Freya more times than I can count.” You shook your head, letting the pain run its course. “I was just her replacement, Nik. Just a replacement she tossed to the wayside like the rest of of her children - damned from the start.”

In this memory it was Niklaus who hung his head, ashamed of his quick accusations. He pressed a kiss to the crown of your hair. “I-I’m sorry, Y/N,” He said. “My minnsta vix, you are my sister - blood be damned - and I’ll never doubt your loyalty agian.”

And he never did. Of all your siblings, you were the only one Nik never daggered out of fear or as a punishment. Not like Kol, who was easily the one finding himself at the wrong end of a dagger too many times to count.

As much as his actions against your family, Niklaus especially, pained you, you couldn’t blame him. Your mother’s curse had consumed your twin brother and oh how acutely did you miss the mischievous boy you had adored with all your heart. The only time he truly seemed to return to you was around Bonfire season, or as it came to be called, Christmas.

New Orleans, Louisiana: December 3rd, 1904

“Kol, sweetheart, honey-bunch, mistletoe of mine; you had better start running because I’m going to beat your ass to a pulp as soon as I reach the bottom of these here stairs,” You sang from the balcony overlooking the courtyard of your families New Orleans compound. A wide, placid smile was spread over your face but it was the equivalent of thin ice because your eyes promised death. 

Down below, decorating the positively gigantic fir tree Klaus had somehow managed to fit through the front gates, stood your menace of a twin brother. He glanced up, flashing you the world’s cheekiest grin. “Oh, darling that’s not very peace on earth of you, now is it? Especially when I’ve done absolutely nothing wrong!”

Your eyes narrowed. “I think you know exactly what you did, Charles.” 

He snickered but held your eyes. Beside him Rebekah looked confused, glancing back and forth between the two of you. “What exactly is going on here?” She asked. Your younger sister also took a step away from your twin for good measure. She was a smart cookie.

Keeping your razer sharp glare fixed on Kol, you drew an object from behind your back - a long, thin, wooden object. You held it on display before you, twirling it like a staff between your fingers. You said nothing.

Rebekah groaned, rolling her eyes. “Really? We’re back to this again?” She scoffed and rounded on Kol. “What, did you run out of actually clever pranks to pull?”

“There’s nothing wrong with the classics, Rebekah,” Elijah cut in from where he sat with his book in the corner. A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens - how appropriate. 

“There is when its this one,” She claimed. “We’re going to be cleaning bits of Kol off the walls for a century when she’s though with ‘im!”

“Damn right, you are,” You said, eyeing your twin brother like a lion eyes a gazell. “Got anything to say for yourself… dim-wit?”

Kol grinned from ear to ear. “Why yes actually, I do.” He cleared his throat and straightened his jacket. Then he looked up, spreading his arms wide. “God bless us, Everyone!”

For a moment you didn’t move. You just glared death at him and he grinned back. Then, you chucked the crutch in your hands like a javelin, aimed directly at his face before vaulting yourself over the railing, screaming at the top of your lungs. “SUFFER THE WRATH OF TINY TIM, YOU KNOB-HEADED WANKER!!!”

Kol squealed like a girl and bolted just as fast as his legs could possibly carry him. “Is it too late to say I’m sorry?” He tried as he backed away from you, using Elijah and his chair as a shield.

“You forged these chains link by link and yard by yard,” You quoted, inching closer. “No apology can save you from me!”

“Bloody hell!” He yelped and leaped to the side as you made a grab for him, just narrowly dodging. He raced into the room closest to the two of you, dashing around the dining room table and through the opposite door. “Just because you’re a cripple doesn’t mean I don’t love you!”

You pursued him into the Kitchen. “How’s this for cripple?” You lept onto the counter and from there flung yourself onto your brother’s shoulders, tackling him to the floor. “Surrender or die!” You commanded, pressing your forearm against his throat.

“Fine! I surrender!” He conceded. You moved off him and allowed the boy to stand. 

“Mean cripple,” He muttered under his breath. 

You punched him in the gut.

It was that playful side of him that you missed. The one that would tease you with jabs that didn't sting just a little. The one who never sneered at you or yelled. You even missed his endless supply of cripple jokes, because that was him. That was your Kol and he was gone now. Your mother's curse had changed him most of all. 

Rebekah, on the other hand, hadn't changed much at all. Though she had developed something of an extreme side, her patterns remained the same. She followed in Niklaus's footsteps, wherever they may tread. She trusted and feared him. Rebekah always chose Nik over you and your twin.

New Orleans, Louisiana: December 21st, 1914

"No!" You shrieked as you watched that cold silver dagger pierce your twin brother's heart once again. The color in his skin faded to a corpse-like gray and the veins beneath blackened and ran dry. "No…"

He was gone. Kol would be locked away and there was no telling whether Niklaus would ever let him out again. The grief, the pain, and the agony were too much. You had only nearly been hanging on and only for Christmas - only for Kol because he loved the season so. But with him gone, the pain assaulted you in droves. Tears burned your eyes and you found yourself turning towards Rebekah.

"I trusted you," You whispered - heartbroken. "We trusted you."

"Y/N/N, I-I had to," She claimed. 

"No, you didn't." You shook your head, tears already making their way down your cheeks. "No, you didn't."

"Y/N, you don't understand-"

You didn't let her finish. Shaking your head, you turned away and carried yourself back to your room. There, you let yourself collapse on your bed, allowing the weight of the Frost-Sickness to crush you. Already your body felt heavier, your chest like a vice. You didn't want to be here any longer. Not without him.

A knock sounded on your door. 

"I don't want to talk!" You shouted.

The knock came again.

"Go away!"

The door opened and Niklaus stepped in. You glared at him.

"Do you not speak English?" You demanded. "Go away, I said. Trŭgvaĭ. Partir. Verlassen. Scram. Beat it. Leave me alone, it's what you're best at."

"I did what I had to do," Klaus said, eyes hard.

"Keep telling yourself that," You spat.

"He was plotting against me, forging a dagger-"

"He wasn't going to use it!" You bit your lip, your whole frame shaking with unshed tears. "He-He wasn't… He was never-" You fell back against your pillows, burying your face in your hands.

"Love, please-"

"I can't." You heaved and gasped for breath but you couldn't seem to get enough oxygen. "I can't a-and I don't want to. I don't want to be around without him - not now. I don't want this pain any longer! To run afoul of winter will surely shred my soul! I can't stand it, Niklaus! Just put me to sleep!"

Klaus closed his eyes and sighed. "Are you confident this is what you want?"

"I can't do it without him. This whole season - I can't stand it. I don't want to spend Christmas without him! Not this one or any other!" You rubbed your red-rimmed eyes. "Let me sleep through the winter, and wake me when you wake him."

"As you wish, dear sister." 

From his pocket, Klaus withdrew a gleaming silver dagger. Its edges glinted like snowflakes, though New Orleans didn't have those. He moved to sit by your side, raising his arm so you could lean against his shoulder. You closed your eyes, and a moment later, felt the chilling metal slice your flesh, lodging itself firmly in your heart.

"Merry Christmas, Nik." The words were the last to leave your lips.

"Sleep well and dream of butterflies, minnsta vix," Those words were the last you heard Klaus whisper to you. "I promise I shall wake you one day."

You knew Klaus would keep his promise, though it startled you when that promise came to fruition.

Mystic Falls, Virginia: Present Day

The first thing you registered when you awoke was a voice. Two voices actually. One that sounded like music and another that reminded you more of a rotten honeycomb - slimy, sticky, and brittle. You remained still and listened as these were not the voices of your family members and thus, they would have some serious explaining to do.

"Damon?" The musical voice spoke. "We did it. Abby and I opened the coffin."

The second voice, most likely this Damon fellow - not that you cared - sounded rather muffled. Almost as if he wasn't actually in the room. Speaking of, whatever sort of room you found yourself in was large and open. That is, everything echoed.

"Yeah?" The voice prodded impatiently. "And what's in there? What did you find?"

"Another corpse with a dagger through it," A third voice joined the conversation. This voice was similar to the music-like voice of the young girl, though it had a smokier quality.

"What?" That second voice did not sound happy. "That's it?"

"Yup. She's just some girl," The first voice replied.

"How old are her clothes?" The second asked. 

“Uh, I don’t know…” You felt someone pinch the fabric of your skirts, likely inspecting the make.

“Early ninteen-hundreds, I’d say,” The third voice spoke. How long had you been out? Niklaus wouldn’t have kept you daggered for that long, would he?

“Did you take the dagger out?” Damon demanded.

Always one for a dramatic entrance, you took that as your cue. Sitting up slowly, you turned your head and opened your eyes. Your whole body felt drained and dry and you knew the telltale signs of desiccation were still there. Two women stood in front of you, one adult and one no older than seventeen. Both had beautiful caramel skin and black hair and they shared the same gorgeous green eyes. Witches they were - mother and daughter. You could tell in the way they carried themselves. Both of them gasped in unison.

“I’m afraid they did,” You said with a smirk. “Hope that’s not too much of a problem.” Of course, you didn’t mean such a statement but for now, you were in good enough spirits to be amused. You focused your gaze on the younger of the two witches, schooling your expression to assure her that you meant the girl no harm. “Hello, darling. Would you be so kind as to tell me the date? I’m afraid I’ve been asleep a rather long time.”

What odd clothes these women wore. Instead of skirts, they sported trousers. Scandalous to be sure, but what you wouldn’t give for a pair.

The young girl floundered for a moment, searching for words but you remained patent. 

“Uh, um… I-it’s January 20th, 2012.” 

Your eyes widened in shock for a moment as you digested that information, then your expression fell into a grimace. “Great,” You huffed. Tossing your hair back, you hopped out of that cramped coffin and onto the floor of the cave. “Well, in that case, who are you and do I need to murder you both?”

Both women took a hesitant step back. 

“I-I’m Bonnie, Bonnie Bennet,” The younger one said. “And this is my mother, Abby.” She pointed to her senior companion. 

“I see,” You nodded cooly. Your mood was souring by the minute.

“We-we were told you were the weapon capable of killing Klaus Mikaelson,” She said.

You raised a brow and laughed. "Kill him? Kill Niklaus?" The expressions of the women before you were entirely serious though they quickly began to deteriorate into confusion as you doubled over laughing. "Now why on Earth would I do such a thing?"

Both witches glanced at one another, uncertain. "Well… because he daggered you?"

"At my behest!" You dismissed with a wave of your hand. "As if he could suffer me anything against my will; though, by Odin, I would certainly love to see him try. Ha! Kill him… I'd sooner let Kol have the pleasure - as long as we're suggesting absurdities. However, I will have a few choice words for him, just as soon as he comes to collect me, that you can be sure of." You shook your head as your laughter faded.

"That'll be hard, princess," The owner of that second voice you had heard waltzed through the mouth of the cavern. "The big bad wolf's got no clue where you are, so I don't think you'll be telling him anything."

He was a tall man, a little shorter than Kol but a little broader in the shoulders, with hair as black as a raven's plumage and pale skin to match. His eyes were a piercing sort of blue and you might have found him attractive had it not been for the unnerving gleam in those eyes and the sneer marring his lips.

"I beg your pardon?" You questioned, falling back into a more defensive stance at the sight of him. You didn't fear the man but something about that voice of his set you on edge.

"No one's coming to get you, sweetheart," Damon said.

You scowled, snapping your gaze back to Bonnie who had begun inching towards her ally's arrival. "You, girl! Why do you seek my brother's demise?" You demanded, eyes hard and sharp.

Bonnie froze. "I just want to protect my friends," She replied.

You shrugged. "A noble cause, at least."

"Wait, Klaus is your brother?" It was her mother who voiced the question and you rolled your eyes.

"Yes, of course he is. What else would he be?" You answered impatiently.

"Then why did he have your coffin sealed?" The woman questioned.

"Because my siblings are a rather overprotective lot and they tend to overdo my security just a tad." You huffed and turned back to the daughter. "Do you know where my brother currently resides?"

"Y-yes." She nodded.

"Very well, darling. Take me to him," You ordered shortly. Your tone left no room for debate and the women both moved to obey you but the man held his arm out to stop them.

"Woah, woah, woah. Not so fast. You're not going anywhere, princess," He said, taking a confident step forward.

"Step aside," You demanded. You had run out of patience.

The man - Damon - shook his head. "Not gonna happen."

You raised a brow. "Oh?"

"Nope."

"I should warn you, that's rather ill advised," You said, smiling thinly. Your eyes promised danger.

"And why's that, sugar?" That southern accent of his was certainly grating on your already thin nerves.

"Because I lack my twin's fun-loving temperament and all-around more reasonable nature," You replied. "Move aside and take me to my family or I shall skin you alive and tear each strand of sinus from your muscles one by one as I weave them into a nice rug."

Damon snorted. "Could you at least make me into a tapestry? I always wanted to be one of those."

"This is the only warning I will give," You ground out, eyes narrowed.

He scoffed. "Come at me, short-ass."

The insult was entirely his mistake. 

You rushed at him, dodging right at the last second to avoid his attempt to grab you. Snatching his arm for balance, you angled your feet to the wall of the cave and pushed off. That initial push supplied you with enough momentum to cartwheel your tiny body over his shoulders. Your weight combined with the force you applied, threw him off balance and you took the opportunity to drive your elbow firmly into his skull as soon as you were solidly back on the ground. Damon reeled in pain but you didn't give him time to think. You swept your leg around and kicked his own out from under him, sending him crashing to the cave floor.

You knelt on his chest and met his eyes.

"Take me to my family," You ordered, impressing your will on his inferior mind.

The man smirked and tossed you off of him. You were sent stumbling and your back slammed into the side of the coffin you had awoken in. You blinked, shaking the slight daze away. What had happened? Why had your compulsion failed?

"Sorry, cupcake," Damon gloated, getting to his feet. "I had a vervain cocktail for breakfast."

"No matter." You shrugged and straightened up again. "I was simply intending to be nice. I should be thanking you. For now I can have a little fun without Elijah reprimanding me for it." 

You rushed him again and this time he was ready for you to evade his outstretched arms. He stepped to the right to counter you but this time you ducked and slid between his legs. Twisting around with all the agility of a coiled servant, you kicked him in the groin like the simple, prudent soul you were. Damon cursed and fell to one knee, glaring at you over his shoulder.

"That was cheap," He bit out, grimacing.

You shrugged. "That was practical," You replied, smirking primly. "And so is this."

Grabbing him by the wrist, you twisted his arm and pulled it around his back, pushing him over. You positioned your fingers to perfectly utilize the fulcrum point of that wrist as your shoved his hand forwards. Damon grunted and you grinned. Then you started breaking his fingers. One at a time. 

Snap!

Snap!

Snap!

The man cursed and screamed and you just giggled like the innocent little girl you had once been but were no longer.

Unfortunately, in your eagerness to take down the man in the black leather jacket, you had entirely forgotten about the two witches in the room.

"That's enough!" The younger one shouted. A searing pain ignited in your skull, prompting you to release your grip on the raven-haired man. You cried out clutching your skull as the other woman yelled:

"Motus!"

You were thrown back into a semi-damp wall of stone and held there by an invisible force. The pain in your head faded and your gaze snapped up, locking on Bonnie and her mother. You hissed, teeth-gnashing and eyes wild. You were tired and starving and miserable and cold and they were in your way. 

Then, a blur of motion startled you and before you could blink, a tall figure in a dark suit caught the elder woman by the throat and raised her into the air 

"Miss and Mrs. Bennett, I suggest you release my sister at once." Elijah's booming voice struck through the cavern and you grinned, turning your head to the door. There stood your brothers - well, two of them, anyway - and neither of them looked very amused. Klaus moved to intimidate the younger girl and Kol smirked as he delivered a few swift, bone-crunching kicks to Damon's ribs. 

You smiled wryly.

As it turned out, Klaus, Elijah, and Kol made for quite the menacing trio when the three of them stood together on something. You made a mental note to encourage them to agree more often. The magic pinning you to the wall faltered, the witch responsible having lost all her bravado along with most of her oxygen supply. You dropped to the ground, landing in a bit of an unceremonious heap. 

"Ugh! About time you three got here," You huffed, rolling your eyes as you brushed yourself off. 

"Apologies, sister," Kol grinned, finishing with Damon by snapping his neck before prancing over to you. "We had some urgent remodeling to take care of - you know how it goes." He tossed you something and you caught the object, inspecting it. The thing appeared to be a plastic bag containing… blood? 

Huh… how peculiar.

You shrugged and tore into it. The sweet nectar inside wasn't as fresh as you would have liked but beggars can't exactly be choosers now, can they?

"Don't ever presume to threaten my sister again. Do I make myself clear?" Elijah growled his tone a harsh bite emphasized by the glare Klaus cast between mother and daughter. Both women nodded vigorously and Elijah dropped the one he was strangling. She fell to the ground, gasping for breath and he turned to you, seeming to inspect your figure for injuries before speaking. "Are you unharmed, lítil víx?" He asked gently.

"I'm quite alright. Though, I most certainly would like to know whose fault is was that I fell into the hands of such incompetent brutes as these," You hummed, continuing to suck out the contents of the bag in your hands rather contentedly. Beside you, your twin brother smirked and threw an arm around your shoulders, pulling you firmly into his side as he turned and started from the cave. The other two followed with Klaus making one last rather threatening gesture before taking up the rear. 

"I'm afraid it was Niklaus's regrettable negligence that allowed all of our coffins to be stolen," Elijah informed you.

Klaus made a strangled noise of offense. "It wasn't my fault!" He protested. "I was a little distracted with killing our father!"

"Father's dead?" You asked in surprise. Your siblings nodded. "Oh… Well good riddance."

"Thought you might say that. Now, don't you ever scare me like that again, darling. Understand?" Kol demanded, hugging you closer. Despite how he had been changed by your mother's curse, you could always be sure he would still care about you. No curse on the planet could change that.

"Ah yes," You agreed, rolling your eyes. "I'll try my very best to avoid being kidnapped while under the influence of a magical sleep in the near future."

Your twin brother poked you in the ribs in response to your wit.

"He's serious, love," Klaus added. "You nearly gave us a heart attack."

"Careful, Nik. Statements like those might lead one to think you have a heart," You chastened playfully.

The hybrid chuckled. "Only for you, love. Only for you."

"And for the occasional blonde, let us not forget," Elijah quipped, smirking to himself.

You giggled but your mirth didn't last long.

Stepping out of the mouth of the cave system, you were met with the blackness of night and air even colder than that of the cavern. Snow drifted from a dreary sky and you frowned, shivering. Discomfort weighed in your soul and you could feel it begin to grow just as frigid rime creeps along until it smothers a plant. You sighed. It was going to be a difficult few months until spring. 

Kol rubbed your arm comfortingly and leaned in close. "It'll be alright, Y/N. I'm right here. I may not have my magic, but I'm not leaving you and you won’t be alone this winter."

Yes, as always, it was going to be a difficult few months until spring. 

But at the very least you had your family.

No matter what, you would have your family. Always and Forever.

Tagging: @yn-ymn-yln @r13mar @rootbeerfaygo @iiskittles16ii @fandomrulesall-blog @dark-night-sky-99 @railingsofsorrow @apolloroid @thatweirdoleigh @misswe03 @eat-cake @felinegrate @trikigirl271 @cute-freak27 @fayeatheart @archangelslollipop @slaypussypop-21

Hey there, people of the internet! If you want on or off the tag list for this series and/or all my other works, just comment or send me a DM to let me know! And if Tumblr won't let me tag you, I'll just send you a friendly DM reminder at your request. Thanks for reading!

[darkisrising]

happy anniversary!! love your fics, ive read some of them even four or five times. my question is, what are some ideas that have popped into your head but that you never got around to writing and maybe never will? like maybe some AUs that you thought would be fun or cool but that you probably wont end up writing? I get a lot of these, like ideas for AUs that arent fully fleshed out enough to actually write a whole fic about but that i enjoy thinking about and daydreaming about anyways.

Thank you!!! And I'm so happy you've enjoyed my stuff enough for multiple read-thrus. That's the best thing to hear as a writer 💖💜💖 Oh man, yeah, I have a graveyard of never-written ideas, some more cooked up than others. Let me see what I can dig out from ye olde wip folder.... Okay, these have made brief appearances on the BDL server so if you're on there, sorry, you might have seen this already. High school AU

This one I tried writing two times, so here are two different attempts at turning it into something:

When Luke was nine he went viral.

To Luke’s eyes it wasn’t even that impressive a video. Just something his dad was shooting of his afterschool training session in the backyard, something that they could play back later to examine all of Luke’s mistakes in excruciating detail.

And, according to General Anakin Skywalker, President Palpatine’s Chief of Staff of the Air Force, and a former baseball wunderkind himself, there was pretty much nothing but mistakes on those videos.

Still, there must have been something in his fastball that particular day. Some extra Skywalker Magic in the two seamer that reminded his dad of his own glory days— something he was proud enough to boast about to anyone but his own son— because he sent the clip off to an old buddy of his from the Air Force Academy who shared it with someone else they’d played with that was now coaching out in Montana until, somehow, it had ended up as a filler segment on ESPN college sports, of all things.

That’s when the college recruiters started calling.

Not officially, of course. There were rules about this kind of thing, and so the best they could offer his dad was a verbal agreement and a firm handshake. Still, he was the only kid on his Little League team— the only elementary school kid in all of Maryland maybe— that knew exactly where he’d be going to college outside of an overbearing parent’s expectations. As long as he didn’t completely screw everything up with terrible grades or a catastrophic injury, he would be playing for Mustafar U and that was pretty much that.

It should have been a relief, to have such a huge weight like the burden of his future taken off his shoulders, but if anything it gave his dad more fuel to add to his fire when he had enough time at home to turn a critical eye on the doings of his children.

“Think that’s good enough for Mustafar, Luke?” he’d ask after every bad game.

“Luke, you know that’s not gonna cut it at Mustafar,” he’d say for a report card that was anything less than sterling.

“He needs to back off,” Leia had growled once when they were in middle school and she was in her anti-authority grunge phase, scrawling little anarchy As all over their military mailings and swapping out the tennis bracelets their dad kept buying her for jewelry made by her purple-haired BFF out of paperclips and safety pins. “If he’s not careful he’s gonna give you a perfectionism complex that all the therapy in the world won’t be able to fix.”

“It’s fine,” he’d told his twin. “He just wants me to be the best I can be and I want that, too.”

“Hm,” she’d said, unconvinced, as she’d gone back to painting her nails black with a sharpie.

Anyway, it didn’t matter. Leia was Leia Skywalker: pusher of boundaries and eternal shit stirrer and Luke was Luke Skywalker: baseball prodigy, perfect student, and future pitcher for the Lavas. She could do things like stand up to their pervy biology teacher until he got kicked out of school and attend marches against the President’s executive order abolishing term limits on the presidency so that he could be voted into office for a third time, and bring home a win to their school’s debate team that simultaneously got her a gold trophy and temporarily put on the no-fly list. Luke couldn’t; not when any little fuck up meant having everything his father had ever wanted for him evaporate in the blink of an eye. He couldn't afford any distractions.

Which was— despite all of Leia’s muttered commentary— absolutely fine. He might yearn for more every now and then, especially when practice meant watching the sunset from the dirt of a pitcher's mound on a Friday night, knowing kids his age were hanging out and going on dates and making foolish choices that they could laugh off with their friends by the morning, but this was what his life was going to be like for the foreseeable future and he was trying to make peace with that.

He <i>had</i> made peace with that.

That is, until junior year started and a new transfer came to Tatooine Prep who had dark eyes, soft lips, and the bristling, optimistic beginnings of a mustache. Suddenly it was all Luke could think about every Friday night from the mound: hanging out with Din Djarin. Going on a date with Din Djarin. Making foolish choices with Din Djarin.

And he might have, too— and risked watching his carefully maintained GPA and strike out percentages take a turn for the worse— except one day he’d gotten to practice early to find him making out under the bleachers with Boba Fett, and the last thing Luke wanted was to piss off the school’s resident bad boy by making a move on his new boyfriend.

Boba had gotten there first, just like Leia had snatched Han Solo up freshman year when Luke was fumbling around in the dark with his sexuality like the little zygote queer that he was, still trying to understand why the sight of the opposing team in their uniform pants was doing things to him and why he'd spent years really, really, really, <i>really</i> wanting Han to be his friend.

Junior year bled into senior year and though the dawn of his final year feels painted with some strange euphoria— with the world, <i>his</i> world, poised on the finest of edges, a delicate place to be before the inevitable tip over into the rest of his life—- there was still plenty to mope about. Like seeing Boba with his arm thrown over Din’s shoulders during assemblies and walking in on them making out in the chem lab and knowing that that could have been him with Din if only he’d been a little faster and a lot more confident.

Boba's got confidence aplenty and he’s willing to make the moves Luke isn’t.

“I’ll fix you up with someone,” Leia offers one morning when they’re making the long walk from the student parking lot to the school and Luke catches sight of Din’s beaten up Razor Crest parked beneath a snow-laden tree with the windows all fogged up. * and then then there was this section, that doesn't share all the details of the above section, it was just another attempt at making something happen:

Luke’s good with parents, so he’s the one Boba and Din throw at Boba’s dad when he comes home sooner than expected.

“What am I supposed to say?” Luke had hissed as four strong palms shoved him up the basement stairs when the tread of boots overhead made it clear they were going to get caught unless some serious heroics happened and quick.

“You’ll figure it out,” Din had insisted while Boba growled “Better think of something, golden boy,” and then Luke was facing the frowning, stern face of one Jango Fett, school principal and all-around terrifying authority figure.

“Skywalker,” he says, both an identification of this unexpected teen in his home and a greeting all wrapped up in one.

“Sir,” Luke stammers back, like an idiot.

A suspicious narrowing of dark eyes and Luke can feel his face catch fire like the worst tell in all of fucking history. “I didn’t know you and Boba were friends.”

“Oh, yeah, sir. Great friends,” Luke lies. “Really, really great— hey, this is a *lovely* home you’ve got,” he says when some lingering upper middle class niceties finally catch up with his wandering mouth.

“Hm,” Mr. Fett says in reply. “Where’s my son, Skywalker?”

“Oh, well, he’s— um...” certainly not raiding your liquor shelf with his boyfriend for a party the Kryze sisters are throwing tonight that’s guaranteed to be the rager of the year, Luke is careful *not* to say. “Studying. That’s why I’m here, I’m helping him study,” and there, that’s absolutely a believable one, since Luke Skywalker, academic wunderkid and varsity baseball player would absolutely spend his free time taking on a hopeless case like Boba Fett, whose only real contribution to the bettering of their school up until now has been by setting fires in the guy’s bathroom that required a complete reno from the linoleum floors to the acoustic drop ceiling tiles.

“Studying?” Mr. Fett repeats with a frown.

“Yup!” Luke says with a bright, golden-boy grin.

“On a Friday.”

“Oh, well, yeah. Can’t ever study too much, that’s what I always say! Anyway, I should get back to it, just came into the kitchen for some—” his eyes land on the fridge— “Water! Love water, you know, hydration is *so* important. So I’m just gonna-- “

Squeezing past a Jango Fett that stares with unnerving stillness, arms crossed, Luke is lucky enough to intuit where the cups are with the first opened cabinet door. With shaking hands he fills the cup from the sink and can only pray that Mr. Fett doesn’t notice the way it slops over the rim when he takes a jittering sip.

From behind Mr.Fett he sees Din emerge from the basement and give Luke a thumbs up and he almost collapses with relief. Whatever the plan had been to get those bottles of tequila and scotch out of the house must be a success.

“Anyway, it was *fantastic* to see you,” Luke says a little too loudly if Mr. Fett’s wince and Din’s quiet, amused smirk is anything to go by.

“Hi, Mr. Fett,” Din greets politely, and this is one unexpected teenager in his house that the principal doesn’t bat an eye to.

“Din,” he says, greeting his son’s longtime boyfriend, and Luke gets a little pinch in his chest at that.

Leia says he’s a fucking headcase for falling in...love?— maybe, lust— definitely with Din Djarin when he’s practically had a tattoo on him that said “for use by Boba Fett ONLY” since he’d transferred into Tatooine High in freshman year. But now it’s gotten bad, to the point he’s willingly getting pulled into juvenile delinquent schemes masterminded by Boba just so he can spend a little extra time basking in the slow, steady, warm presence of Din a little longer. Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic, but he has no regrets when Din throws his arm around Luke’s shoulder as they hurry out of the kitchen, whispering so that Boba’s dad can’t hear “Good work, golden boy,” and dammit even Boba’s much-hated nickname for Luke sounds so *good* when said in Din’s low voice.

“Happy to help.”

Boba’s waiting, leaning against the passenger side door of Din’s beater car. When Din gets close enough he snags him by the back of the collar and pulls him down into a very wet kiss. Even though seeing Din kissed to within an inch of his life by someone that’s *not* him is a sick, tight pain beyond any other, he’s not so immune to his hormones that the brief glimpse he gets of their tongues meeting doesn’t… do something to him. He turns away, hurrying down the black driveway before Boba notices anything incriminating like boners that Luke may or may not be starting to stir in his jeans.

“Where do you think you’re going, Skywalker?” Boba’s voice rings out behind him, and he turns to see them with their arms still wrapped around each other, Boba’s hands shoved down into Din’s back pockets like they live there or something.

“Oh, well.” Historically good kids like Luke have never warranted invitations to all-out ragers, especially not at the Kryze sisters’ place, and he knows the hierarchy of high school too well to even pretend he can follow Din into any old den of iniquity. “Home, I guess. But this was fun, maybe we can hang out again sometime.”

Boba might be short, but he’s got BDE if ever Luke has seen it personified, and the other boy is by Luke’s side in two strides, tops.

“Nah, I don’t think so.” Boba pulls Luke in, close enough that Luke can smell the faintest whiff of his sweat, the only tell that maybe he hadn’t felt as in control of this situation as he’s been letting on. “Tonight you’re with us.”

* Also my notes say that in this world Grogu is a kitten that Din finds? Huh. Anyway, that's one AU that will probably never see life outside these snippets.

[notthatiwilleverwriteit]

We know that tianshan will be together in the future. but in your opinion, at what moment will either MGS or HT will realize they are in love. and now in middle school, do they like each other romantically even a little? Thank you in advance!

Good afternoon, dear anon-san!

Your question was probably the hardest one I’ve gotten so far. This is my third time starting my answer to this. Outlining this turned out to be quite a nut to crack because I don’t think there is a simple answer to your question. Tianshan is a continuum, so pinpointing or giving amounts of feelings is rather difficult. After scratching everything I had written the second time, I decided to take the long route and outline how I see the arch of Tianshan. Hopefully, that will show how hard I found your question.

In another ask, I divided Zhanyi’s story into segments, and I will be doing something similar to Tianshan. I went through the comic and in my eyes, there were some turning points that mark how their relationship has developed. I’ll be using these to give some structure to my answer.

TL;DR: I think HT has already come to the conclusion that he’s romantically interested in MGS. But he hasn’t found a comfortable way of expressing that quite yet despite expressing quite a lot of affection and dedication. MGS, on the other hand, is much trickier. I don’t think he’s in love with HT yet or even likes him in a romantic sense but he’s started to care about him. And even more importantly, he’s started to let HT have an effect on him and letting go of his need for control. Is he in love with HT in the future chapters? I think we’d need to know more to say for sure…

“You’ll answer to me from now on”

From the beginning, they were two forces colliding. MGS was distrustful and full of resentful sneering (ch. 138, 150, 155):

HT no doubt reminded MGS of SL, and he had learned not to trust rich guys like him the hard way. They were fake, cunning, and dangerous, merely looking for ways to take advantage of people less fortunate than them. They thought they could own MGS and look down on him.

For the most part, HT let MGS spit accusations in his face. The fact that MGS despised people like HT and thought they were scum, only showed his set of values. He was someone HT could respect for thinking like that. He saw himself in “fake”, “sinister” and “dangerous”, but they were also things he was looking to change about himself.

But when MGS went too far, HT was quick to dominate MGS and show which one of them was the boss (ch. 130, 138, 144, 150):

HT’s tone with MGS was rather different from what it is these days. MGS was allowed to diss HT’s kind of people but he wasn’t allowed to talk back. HT gave direct orders that were not to be ignored, threatened MGS, and often made MGS submit by physical force. This kind of behavior is often seen as abusive among the readers. HT made clear there was a power imbalance between them and his word was the law.

However, I think the way HT took control also created a sense of safety and security. In a similar way than parents set rules and limits to their kids, so there is safety and structure in their life. Another anon once proposed that HT was a father figure to MGS in that sense, and I would agree with the anon up to a point. By showing strength, HT showed MGS that he was someone who could be trusted and relied on. He could take the reins and MGS can follow him instead of trying to fight by himself. By taking control - albeit forcefully - HT said “it’s okay, let me worry about things”. Because MGS’s behavior ultimately stems from his distrust of people. Over the years, his defense had grown high and strong, and HT needed to be forceful to get through to him. MGS’s life was heading in a dangerous direction that could ruin his future, but MGS himself had kind of accepted his faith. HT needed to turn it around for him and decided he wouldn’t be using kid gloves.

And the thing is, MGS wasn’t exactly difficult to make submit. He might have cursed and spat when HT ordered him around, but it didn’t take that much from HT to make him listen. MGS’s delinquent act was very convincing and did scare off a lot of people - as it was meant to do. But when HT got that dark look in his eyes and grabbed MGS’s shirt, it didn’t take long for MGS to surrender. I think the same applies to MGS’s relationship with SL and Buzzcut. MGS is scared of SL but is respected and somewhat feared by Buzzcut (when MGS gets angry).

I wouldn’t say this first “phase” of Tianshan had any romantic feelings involved. I don’t think Tianshan was love at first sight. HT got interested in MGS for his own selfish reasons, and MGS’s resistance to him was much deeper and darker than what it is these days. It wasn’t about a tsundere just being a tsundere but rather about distrust and MGS not even wanting to know if he was in the right doing so.

After that, though, it gets more complicated and difficult to tell one feeling apart from another.

“Don’t try to shoulder everything by yourself”

This is when HT’s project “Outstanding Person” kicks off in earnest, and he continues using the carrot and the stick with MGS (ch. 160, 180):

One of the goals is to “hone down” MGS’s personality. And HT is pretty damn perfect for the job. In a way, he’s the “safest” person for it. On one hand, he has the strength to put MGS in his place when he’s acting out and the resources to keep him out of trouble by directing his focus on things that will benefit him. On the other hand, he’s also someone who won’t turn his back on MGS or get scared of him. He doesn’t believe MGS is a villain and won’t allow MGS to push him away by cursing and punching.

HT also doesn’t shy away from being harsh with MGS (ch. 150, 174):

As much as HT agrees that MGS has been wronged and unfairly made the villain by others, he doesn’t stand for giving up or “woe is me” attitude. MGS has had a difficult life in many ways, but it’s up to him to move forward. Clinging to the hurt and resentment is the easy way but it also affects his future when he accepts that kind of role. The unfair truth is, the world won’t apologize to MGS, so he might as well make something out of himself instead of spinning his wheels. And HT is there to help him with that attitude adjustment.

MGS started to realize he wasn’t alone when the gang helped him sort out the assault case. HT showed that all the strength he had - and there was a lot of it - was on MGS’s side and he should rely on HT (ch. 183, 185, 188):

For the first time, MGS saw HT as someone who wouldn’t use his power to take advantage of him. Perhaps HT was someone who was ready to fight for him, and - even more importantly - thought MGS was someone worth fighting for. The sense of relief and security when realizing you’re not alone anymore is one powerful feeling. And I think MGS came to see the first glimpses of that in his relationship with HT.

The ferocity with which HT stood up to SL has always made me think that maybe it was already about something deeper for him. Maybe it was about something else too rather than just making MGS into an outstanding person and HT trying to use his strength for good. Was his interest in MGS getting deeper than a pet project? Either way, I think it was the beginning of HT’s very personal war against SL and how much MGS’s connection to SL bothered HT.

In this “phase”, we also started to notice a change in how HT acted around MGS (ch. 155, 160, 173):

He went from threats and orders to mischevious grins and finding MGS’s feisty personality rather amusing. He started to tease MGS and grew devil horns and a tail to fit this new hobby of his. At the same time, MGS’s countless “fuck offs” and “scrams” started to lose their edge and became more comical when they were soundly ignored by smiling HT.

If I had to pinpoint when HT started having the first inklings of romantic interest in MGS, I would say it’s somewhere around this phase. There were two moments that make me think so. Firstly, perhaps the one that has confused the readers the most (ch. 160):

It was later revealed that he was lying, even though I have somewhat mixed feelings about the note MGS discovered. Personally, I read it as HT being conflicted about his own budding feelings towards MGS. Especially if he was lying about them as it said in the note. What he said went kind of against how he was often behaving around MGS. Perhaps this was the first time he was having feelings for another guy and needed a moment to figure things out for himself. Either way, I think it showed things were changing.

Another moment that might suggest other interests were starting to get involved was when HT was rather intimate while trying to intimidate MGS and got “sidetracked” (ch. 170):

To me, HT touching MGS’s lips like is an interesting, titillating dance between scary and sexy which I think is a pretty fitting tune for Tianshan even in the future. There’s always a sense of danger in HT, and I imagine he can get pretty intense in a sexual way. I think that caressing of lips can at least be read as a sign about which direction the tension between HT and MGS was going to head. Also, I know the groping was meant to be comedic relief and this kind of behavior isn’t new to HT, but still…I’d say it’s a weird thing to be distracted by if you have zero such interest in someone.

In addition to that, the comic also started to point out how innocent and inexperienced MGS was when it came to love and romance (ch. 160, 170, 174, 186):

He was grossed out and often lashed out in a fit of embarrassment. And of course, HT found this endlessly amusing and interesting and teased him about it even more.

However, it was their infamous first kiss that truly showed him he couldn’t be too careless with MGS (ch. 174, 175):

Even though I said earlier that I think this phase was when HT was starting to get romantically interested in MGS, I don’t think that kiss was about love or like or romance. He was simply teasing MGS, and it went quite epically wrong. He misjudged how seriously MGS would take it and massively overstepped the line. He seemed genuinely surprised by MGS’s violent reaction and how upset he was. As unfortunate as that was, it at least served as a learning experience. HT needed to have a serious mind and heart if he was looking to approach such matters with MGS.

I also think the kiss was a catalyst for something in MGS’s mind (ch. 177):

After calming down, he seemed dazed and confused, a bit out of it. I’m sure he was still upset but also something else. It doesn’t necessarily have to have anything to do with HT precisely, but despite everything, I believe it was MGS’s first kiss. That ought to make your head spin a little. After that, he started to become increasingly conscious of HT which moves us on to the next “phase”.

“I’m so bothered by you…”

This is when I think HT was starting to court MGS more seriously as if he had made up his mind. Although, his affections are still layered with other feelings: being guarded and not wanting to show his darkness, not quite having the courage to be openly serious about his feelings and masking them as teasing, fear of abandonment and the possessiveness that comes with it.

But I would definitely say his feelings for MGS are deepening. The different ways he looks at MGS alone are a good example fo that (ch. 210, 216, 263, 282, 296, 297, 205):

Admiration and respect. Possessive and anxious. Vulnerable and affectionate. Sometimes it’s as if MGS takes HT by surprise and he can’t help but halt to look at him. Other times HT can’t contain whatever he’s feelings - hide it behind his mask - and lets it show on his face, perhaps without even realizing it. I think all these different looks and expressions tell how many feelings MGS has evoked in HT who set out as a solitary savior with a strong mask to hide behind. HT has gotten more and more comfortable around MGS and trusted him to see more sides of himself.

Another thing that caught my eye was the increase in casual physical contact between HT and MGS (ch. 203, 205, 220, 221, 223, 237, 261, 280, 310):

HT seemed to be touching MGS whenever he could: hand over his shoulders, tussling his hair, grabbing his hand or just messing with him in general. And often he wanted to keep MGS bodily close - which in MGS’s case, also required physical contact since he isn’t too fond of HT touching him. Besides teasing and affection, the touching could also be comforting and protective.

Soon, both HT’s teasing and touching also started to become more and more suggestive (ch. 190, 202, 236, 261, 269, 280, 284, 288, 289, 290, 306, 311):

HT seems to enjoy teasing MGS and amused by the embarrassed reactions he manages to draw out of him. He likes to watch MGS blush and squirm. But what’s interesting about this is that HT is paying more mind to the invisible limits. MGS is still reluctant to the affection, but HT is taking his time, sneaking a glimpse of MGS’s ass here and a peck on the cheek there. He also seems to enjoy putting MGS in compromising positions and feigning innocence.

In return, MGS has become increasingly conscious of HT and bothered by him (ch. 214, 216, 222, 264, 268, 270, 273, 277, 284, 285, 298, 305):

HT’s close presence makes MGS nervous and conscious in a different way than in the beginning. He sweats, blushes, and overcompensates for his nervous energy and embarrassment by lashing out. And god forbid, someone implies that maybe - just maybe - someone or something is bothering MGS. He will rain Hellfire upon anyone suggesting such things, especially if they hint that HT might be the cause.

Of course, MGS’s “don’t tell me what to do” attitude hasn’t disappeared (ch. 200, 277):

And it never will go away. And HT never wants it to go away. MGS being someone who stands up to HT is something HT very much admires about him. Not to mention, what their relationship absolutely requires in order to work. This type of resisting is what’s in MGS’s nature, it’s out of pride. In the beginning, MGS resisted because he was suspicious of HT and despised him because he thought HT telling him what to do was him trying to take advantage.

But of course, it’s not like HT is letting MGS run his mouth as he likes or disobey him when it matters (ch. 210, 222, 287):

The power dynamic has leveled out but there are still times when HT lets MGS know, in no uncertain terms, when he’s crossed some line or needs to listen to HT. The unwritten rule remains that when HT is helping MGS, he’s not allowed to ignore HT. Also, HT seems quite sensitive to MGS talking about HT in the context of his family. He doesn’t want to be compared to them or MGS to think he’s one of them.

In addition to all the feistiness, MGS is also showing his duality as a tsundere (ch. 234, 236, 243, 246, 254, 255, 259, 309):

He curses and struggles against HT - and I don’t doubt he is annoyed by him - but also shows concern when HT is not around or is hurt. And that’s the thing about MGS. He will keep telling HT to fuck off and scram and “are we supposed to be familiar” but at the same time, if something happens he gets worried. He shows concern while averting his eyes, acting nonchalant, and griping his pants so he won’t reach out. He won’t try on the earrings - the ones he specifically asked HT to get him - in front of him but would rather escape to the privacy of the bathroom. 

I would say this phase that we’re reading at the moment comes down to MGS being “bothered” by HT. In other words, HT is affecting him and it threatens MGS’s sense of control over himself. HT is persistently getting closer and closer, and MGS finds himself more and more affected by him. I don’t think MGS has fallen in love with HT yet or even romantically likes him, but he is doing something that is similar to those feelings: giving up control. And I think MGS asking for the earrings was a major sign of that. To him, it was a big deal and something fundamental.

About their future

When will MGS realize his feelings for HT? Is he crushing on HT in the Christmas and hot springs specials that take place in the future? My Tianshan heart wants to say “YES!”, but my more objective mind wants to remain cautious. I don’t think we know enough about the future to say anything for sure just based on the special chapters.

What we do know, however, we know for sure (ch. 224, 230):

The black studs are very much present in both future-related specials. Even if they don’t necessarily see each other that often due to HT’s traveling or just not being around, MGS is still wearing them. Let me say it again: MGS got them when he was in middle school and he is still wearing them when he’s at college (?) age. If that’s anything to go by, I’d give in a little to my Tianshan heart and say MGS has gotten further with his feelings for HT. (And I suppose it’s worth mentioning they seem physically more intimate in the specials, but then again, that might be just HT pushing it.)

The thing about Tianshan is that I’m not sure if MGS would ever confess his feelings out loud or even admit them to himself. He might just…let them be there. To me, Tianshan is the kind of relationship that they just let things develop without making explicit confessions or declarations. Even in the future, their relationship won’t probably have a specific category or term for it. They just are without necessarily needing to make it official. They just care about each other and let the other care about them. It’s about HT showing up and MGS sharing the bed with him. In MGS’s case especially, his love is in the gestures and actions rather than words. But at the same time, they’re both well aware of how much whatever they have means to them.

…Or I’m just too wrapped up in my own personal Tianshan aesthetics again.

For sure, I could’ve given a shorter answer but whenever I tried that I always felt like I needed to give more context. So…sorry, it’s a bit long. Again. And I don’t know if I even managed to give a proper answer, dear anon-san. Hopefully something satisfying enough. Thank you for your question!

[keig-hoe-takami]

Chapter 1

‘Ichirou, wait for me!’ Mina yelled to her furry eared friend who seemed to have completely forgotten she existed.

‘huh- oh! Sorry Mina I’m just super brain dead at the moment,’ she muttered, grey eyes looking down at her black school shoes,

‘Thinking about the entrance exam?’ Mina questioned, the UA entrance exam was tomorrow and despite wishing with all her heart that the two of them would make it to the elite hero school, Ichirou knew how hard it could be. Still, a girl could dream.

‘How’d you know,’ she replied somewhat sarcastically as the girls headed out of the front doors,

‘Don’t worry about it ‘rou- we just have to do our best! Besides, your quirk is crazy awesome, any hero academy would be happy to have you.’

‘Says you- your quirk is so cool,’ the girl lifted her hands, making pew pew sounds to mimic the alien queen’s quirk as the girl beside her giggled.

Two strong hands suddenly began to ruffle the two poor girls hair, Ichirou’s ears folding in irritation,

‘Hey if it isn’t pinky and puppy!’ The black haired boys arms dropped to their shoulders as he squeezed himself in between the best friends.

‘Hey Kiri, you ready for tomorrow?’ Ichirou asked, fixing her charcoal grey ears

‘You know I am, you feeling those biceps?’ He exclaimed,

‘We sure are.’ Mina rolled her eyes at the boys show of confidence, not that the girls didn’t enjoy the slightly insane things Kirishima came out with during the displays of manliness he saved just for them.

‘Well, I’ll see you guys tomorrow okay?’ Ichirou said, breaking from the group to catch her bus,

‘Bright and early.’ Mina replied, throwing up a peace sign,

‘Later puppy!’ called Kiri as she turned down the neighbouring street.

The walk to the bus was refreshing, finally able to think without hearing Mr Ito drone on about quadratics. As long as the practical test was close combat, she’d be fine. Her quirk didn’t do very well at long distance, despite her heightened senses making it easy for her to sense things coming, her claws were only useful during one on one fighting. Her increased strength and speed also lending to the fighting style. As she reached the bus her swaying tail wrapped itself around her leg politely, as it often did in crowded places.The bus ride was long, Ichirou lived pretty far out of the city and unlucky for her, her mum was often too busy to pick her up. But still, the alone time was appreciated, she thought back to Mina’s words, her friend had been right, mutant quirks were often accepted at a pretty high rate, just lower than those with power up quirks, so even if she didn’t get into UA, the chances of achieving her dream and becoming a hero were still high.

‘Holy shit, we’re actually here!’ The red head exclaimed as the three friends crossed the gates to UA hero academy. Ichirou was nervous, rightfully so, but she also knew that there was no point in worrying- she just had to battle through the nerves and do her best!

‘I’m getting anxious- what if we haven’t revised enough?’ Mina fretted, despite her sunshiny demeanour, the pink girl often worried about academic skills- relying on Ichirou to help her with homework every other week.

‘Don’t panic Mina- we’ve been working so hard all year- its going to be fine.’ Ichirou tried to reassure her, squeezing her hand and sending a confident smile her way.

‘Yeah exactly, and even if we don’t do great in the written test- there’s still the practical exam! The perfect place to show off your manliness!’ Kirishima chimed in,

‘I don’t have any manliness Kiri!!’ the stressed girl cried in exasperation,

‘Pinky come on, you’ve got more manliness than me- you’re awesome!’ the boy wrapped an arm around his friends shoulder, pulling Ichirou with her. The three fell into each other, breaking out into giggles before realising exactly where they were, the steps to the entrance. This was it. They were going to make it!

The written exam ended up being easier than expected for Ichirou, but the same couldn’t be said for Kiri and Mina- the two wannabe hero’s had struggled and were hoping to do better in the practical part of the exam. Ichirou was pulled from her thoughts by the enthusiastic yelling of Present Mic, pro hero and teacher at UA as he explained the battle ground that would contain the practical segment of the exam.

The exam seemed like it would be pretty easy for Ichirou, being short range fighting, and the girl began to think that she might just actually get into the Hero Academy. The unlucky thing for Ichirou, was the fact that she wouldn’t be with Kiri and Mina for the exam, apparently being with people you already knew was an unfair advantage, so the girl would have no one to lean on.

Ichirou looked around her group for the exam, everyone looked pretty strong and kind of unapproachable, which was understandable considering the stakes. She was pretty sure she looked scary too, surveying the crowd and trying to figure out her opponents weaknesses. Her eyes met those of a boy with ashy blond hair who had been stood confidently near the front of the pack, his muscles flexing as he crossed his arms and scowled at her. Ichirou felt her face heat up as she quickly looked away. Now was not the time.

‘And the exam begins!’ Present Mic’s voice sounded round the arena as the ten minute countdown began.

Letting in a deep breath, Ichirou felt the change come over her, enhancing her senses as she feels the people around her start to move forward. She set of at a run, faster than her average speed thanks to her elevated wolf form, her puffed up tail swaying behind her as she picked up the pace. If she was going to get into UA, she was going to have to tap into her wolf senses more than ever before.

Her vermillion eyes spotted a villain at the end of the deserted street she’d been running down, sometimes it was best to get away from the pack. Directing all her attention towards the approaching bot, Ichirou extended the dark claws at the ends of her fingertips, aiming carefully for the perfect weak spot She found it, claws grabbing at the metal body of the machine and pulling the surface away to reveal the wires that she quickly cut through, claiming her first three points. The sweating girl was almost to busy rejoicing to sense the 2 point robot sneaking up behind her. Almost. At the very last minute, she turned, stretching her leg out with all her might and breaking off the head of the robot. Understanding now that there was no time to enjoy her quick victory, the girl hurried off in the direction of her other contestants, taking out robots on the way and slowly increasing her score.

As she reached the Main Street of the urban battleground, a loud booming noice filled her sensitive ears (an irritating downside to her quirk) leaving them ringing. She looked around for the creator of the horrible sound, almost giving up until she saw the blond boy from earlier surrounded by bots. Another explosion sounded from the vicinity and by the looks of things, they were thanks to the boys quirk. Great. Still, he looked like he needed help so the wolffish girl ran over, grabbing at the head of one of the robots that was advancing on his back, kicking at its body and effectively splitting it in two. She turned to another bot that looked worryingly close to the overwhelmed boy.

‘Hey, what the fuck do you think you’re doing!’ The boy shouted aggressively as he aimed another ear bleeding explosion toward the oncoming bots.

‘I’m helping you out!’ Ichirou was shocked at his tone, but still sent him a smile as she scratched at her bots wires.

‘You’re stealing my bots, you extra!’ the boy directed more of his attention towards the girl as the onslaught of bots became easier to deal with,

‘Seriously? You think you could have finished this without me?’ She took a deep breath as her final bot fell.

‘Of course I could have, did you see my fucking quirk?’ All his attention coming to face the irritated girl beside him,

‘Yeah I saw your fucking quirk, heard it too.’ Ichirou replied, his red eyes finally meeting her own, she looked him up and down. Fuck. He’d looked hot before they’d started but now, with his hands smoking and sweat soaking his vest, he looked- well, shit, he looked even hotter.

‘Whatever, runt.’ The blond boy replied, turning down the street and leaving her behind,

‘I’m not a dog!’ She shouted after him, a blush forming on her cheeks. What the hell was wrong with her brain, to find someone that brash and irritating hot? With no time to think, she set off in the opposite direction of the aggressive boy.

The ten minutes seemed to last a lifetime as Ichirou racked up points, sticking with a larger group of wanna be hero’s to protect them and herself. All was going well and good until suddenly a loud crash was heard from around the corner and a building began to tumble into the road. The cause of the huge destruction rounded the corner. The robot towered over the students, an unexpected obstacle that they hadn’t been warned about by Present Mic.

‘What the hell is that thing!’ A girl with strange tentacle like objects coming from her ears said what everyone was thinking.

‘Just run guys!!’ A tall, bulky boy cried out, already turning on his heals. Ichirou would have turned with him, deciding that her quirk, or anyone’s for that matter, would be useless against the machine, but before she could, her sensitive ears picked up on a whimpering from underneath the rumble. And without even realising that she’d started running, she was sprinting toward the sound to see what she could do. Fucking hero complex. She neared the rubble that the cries were coming from, there was at least two voices both seeming to be male. The threat of the robot still loomed above her, but Ichirou could only hope that she would make it in time.

‘Ouch- you’re crushing my arm!’ the higher voice cried, they were close,

‘Hey! Are you guys okay?’ Ichirou kneaded down, trying to find the boys but it was too dark,

‘What do you think?’ the high voice from earlier questioned in exasperation,

‘Dude, chill.’ A calmer voice rang out, ‘Do you think you could help us out?’

‘I cant really see much but I’m going to try move some stuff first.’ The huge robot was searching the area, Ichirou knew she couldn’t bring attention to herself, but she also knew one wrong move would result in the two boys being even more crushed. This was going to be tricky.

‘I think I could give you a hand with that- hold on’ For just a few seconds, light filled the tunnel the boys seemed to be stuck in, thankfully it was enough for Ichirou to gain her bearings.

‘Cool, give me one second.’ The girl reached for a large piece of metal that would hopefully clear an exit for them to climb out.

‘Thanks a lot, couldn’t have made it out without you.’ the boy who had managed to light up said appreciatively,

‘Yeah…’ the other, smaller boy with balls for hair said slowly, drool practically running down his chin as he definitely wasn’t looking at Ichirou’s face.

‘It was no problem, are you alright now? I just want to go see if I ca-’

‘TIMES UP!’ Present Mics voice rang around the arena, cutting the girl off.

‘Huh, guess we better head to the entrance.’ The blond boy looked worried, the rubble incident had lost all three of them precious time.

‘Yeah, I’m Ichirou Sato, by the way.’ She replied smiling at the boy next to her,

‘I’m Denki, Denki Kaminari. Nice tail.’ Denki replied as the three made their way slowly towards the larger group.

‘I like your tail too,’ said the purple headed boy, though somewhat creepier than Denki had been.

‘Thank you, your quirks really cool Denki, but um- I haven’t seen yours yet.’ Ichirou gestured toward the strange boy, giving him a tight smile.

‘Yes, I just-‘ there was a pause as the boy pulled one of the purple balls from his head, ‘I just do this.’

‘Oh, that’s pretty neat.’ Ichirou said raising her eyebrows at the slightly strange quirk.

‘Yeah that’s real cool buddy.’ The two shared a look, knowing that with a quirk like that, it would be surprising if the poor guy managed to get into UA.

“Chirou!’ Mina cried, running towards her tired friend and throwing her arms around her, ‘How do you think you did?’ the question was much more serious, Mina pulled back to stare into Ichirou’s eyes,

‘I think I did pretty well, my group was really good though, how did you guys do?’ She replied, now noticing a somewhat bummed out Kirishima standing behind Mina and scuffing his feet,

‘I worked as hard as I could, but Kiri here,’ the pink girl turned to poke him in the chest, ‘seems to think he did bad.’

‘What, why Kiri?’ the two girls turned their attention to their beat up looking friend,

‘I don’t know,’ he shrugged, turning on his heal ‘come on lets head home.’

‘Oh hell no, tell us what’s wrong.’ Mina was adamant to understand why Kiri was so annoyed at himself. He got like this at times when he didn’t think he’d done his best, all closed off and anxious to change the subject. Ichirou had been friends with him long enough to know that he needed to talk, but didn’t want anyone thinking he wasn’t manly.

‘Kiri, you can talk to us, you know that.’ Ichirou said, linking their arms together as Mina did the same on the other side, ‘If you don’t want to its perfectly fine, but we are right here.’

‘I know where you are, puppy. I just, I don’t know, I just think there was some guys in my group doing better than me, I mean there was this guy literally bulldozing through stuff, all I can do is block!’ Kiri replied, sighing in exasperation smiling and squeezing the two girls arms tight as they headed out of the gates,

‘Don’t worry about what other people can do, Kiri, your quirk is so awesome-’ Ichirou reassured him,

‘Its got pro hero potential.’ Mina chimed in, reiterating the words that Mr Ito so very often used to describe Kirishima,

‘Yeah exactly, you’re gonna be the manliest hero there ever was.’ The other girl finished, smiling up at the blushing boy,

‘Thanks guys, it- it really means a lot.’ There was a lull as the three friends now wondered what it would be like if they all managed to reach the next step of their dreams

‘Do you guys just wanna crash at my place?’ Mina asked, looking other at the two hopefully,

‘Hell yeah!’ Ichirou replied, ‘But I don’t know how much fun I’ll be- I’m so tired.’

‘Me too, don’t worry, that was the craziest thing I’ve ever done.’ Mina reassured her,

‘It was so awesome, it felt like I was a real hero.’ Kiri chimed in,

‘Yeah same! I felt so cool!’ Mina agreed,

‘Everything was so insane- did you get a huge robot?’

‘Uh-huh it was massive, I thought it was just supposed to be zero points!’

Ichirou smiled as her two friends shared their stories but her brain was just too tired to chime in, god she hoped the three of them made it.

[gothamsnightmare]

Arkham (Preview)

Little preview of my currently longest fic that I'm working on, just to see if some people would actually find it interesting if I can actually manage to finish it.

In it, a fellow inmate at Arkham tried to kill Jerome's girlfriend Allison when he wasn't around, something she was easily able to prevent, but now she's trying to cover it up from him because she knows he would probably overreact.

It’s still written as a reader-insert, even though I've pretty much settled on the name Allison for my OC by now. Thing is just, I also had to realize I kinda like the name Allison Valeska as a name for Jerome and Jermiah’s sister, so now I’m still torn what to use the name for

(Note, since I haven’t managed to quite finish this segment yet, I’ve left out some parts for this post)

You took another close look at your hand, which was still bleeding rather strongly, trying to see how much damage really had been done. You came to the conclusion that it wasn’t too bad, and yet, something told you that Jerome would probably disagree with you. „Oh, he’s gonna hate that.“ You figured, so you decided to make sure to cover it up as good as possible so he wouldn’t immediately notice. „Hey! Hand me that water, come on!“ You instructed a young girl sitting at the next table that you noticed hadn’t been able to stop staring at you ever since you’d sat down, waving her over. She jumped up immediately even though you were clearly making her nervous, grabbing her glass of water to hand it over like you asked her.

When she had managed to set it down with a shaking hand, she remained were she was, just watching you, apparently aware that you expected her to keep helping you. „Well, find something else, come on, I don’t have time!“ You told her, making her jump. She looked around the room, spotted a guy who’s napkin she apparently figured she could steal, starting to run off. „Wait!“ You called her back, and when she turned back to you, you handed her the bloody knife. „Forceful!“ You told her when she had taken it from you. You watched how she marched over to the guy, shaking your head at her thinking she could intimidate a guy twice as big as her at her age without a weapon. „No wonder that guy thought he has it so easy with women.“ You thought to yourself. You almost had to laugh when you watched her, to her own surprise, take the napkin from the man with ease, which he handed over to her before she could even really threaten him with her knife, clearly very well aware that you were the one who actually wanted it.

„Wow, you really have to work on that, they’re gonna eat you in here!“ You informed her when she handed you the napkin. When she attempted to answer, you cut her off before she could even get any words out. „You know what, just leave!“ She hesitantly put the knife back on the table and intended to turn away from you, but you stopped her by her arm with a final warning. „You know that never happened, right? You know what he’ll do to you if he finds out you helped cover this up for me!“ You managed to scare her good enough that she actually rushed out of the room the moment you let go off her, making you first laugh, then let out an annoyed sigh. „Ugh, girls!“ You now held an end of the napkin into the glass to moisten it, cleaned your hand off with it as good as possible and made sure to remove any blood splatters off the table that you had left on it by now. „Here, throw that away!“ You tossed the bloody, wet napkin to a guard who just happened to walk past you when you were done, wiping the last remaining drops of blood of the table with your right sleeve, then tried to prevent your cut from continuing to bleed with your original cloth.

By the time Jerome joined you a couple of minutes later, your cut seemed to have mostly stopped bleeding, so you finally put your hand down on the table and tossed the blood-soaked cloth aside. „Been on a killing spree?“ Jerome asked, when he caught sight of the cloth and the bloody knife on the table, making you laugh. „Like there’d be anyone left around here. No, was just some idiot.“ You waved off his question while he sat down on the other side of the table. He didn’t ask about it any further, cause since your hand was now facing down on the table, he hadn’t become aware of the cut on your hand yet. He reached across the table for your hand to give it a brief squeeze, but you made sure to only let him take a hold of some of your fingers in order to avoid him touching your cut so he wouldn’t notice.

...

While you were both still watching the other inmates, you randomly lifted up your hand off the table and felt a wetness when your fingers touched your palm. Looking at it, you inadvertently uttered a „Crap!“ when you saw that it was bleeding rather strong again, causing Jerome to turn his attention back to you. Unfortunately, he now managed to get a pretty good look at your cut while you were trying to locate where your cloth had landed on the floor. His hand shot across the table to grab your wrist so he could take a better look at your hand. „Why didn’t you tell me you got hurt?“ He asked as you stopped looking for the cloth. „It’s just a cut!“ As expected, you felt like he was overreacting, but Jerome was obviously already aware that, based on your earlier conversation, this hadn’t just been an accident. „Who did that to you?“ There was a slight hint of anger in his voice now. „Ugh, it was just some idiot who thought he could kill me.“ You tried to brush it off. Jerome’s hand involuntarily tightened on yours as his anger immediately increased a tenfold. „Where is he?“ He demanded, making you roll your eyes. „Will you stop being so dramatic?“ You still felt like he was making a big deal out of nothing. „Where?“ He tried to emphasize his need for an answer by holding on to your hand even tighter when you tried to pull it out of his grip, but failed to impress you. „I told you, I already killed him!“ You tried to make it clear to him that he was blowing up for nothing.

„Actually, he’s still alive.“ An inmate sitting at the next table that had been watching you since Jerome’s little angry outburst suddenly piped up, causing you both to stop your argument and look over at him. „I’m sorry, what now?“ You thought you had misheard him. „They just took him to the infirmary. Saw it when I came in.“ He added. Now it was your turn to be outraged „Oh, I can’t believe I messed that one up!“ You said turning back to Jerome, who now looked absolutely thrilled. „Great, now I can finish it for you!“ - „Great? I screwed up something so simple!“ You exclaimed, inwardly kicking yourself at your own incompetence. „Oh come on, cheer up, let me do something nice for you!“ Jerome leaned across the table to take your face into his hands and give you a kiss in an attempt to make you feel better. „Fine, go nuts.“ You agreed, having a hard time acknowledging to yourself that he had actually managed to calm you down. With a very satisfied grin, he gave you another kiss, then got up to leave. „Wait, use this, that’s at least somewhat of a payback!“ You picked up the bloody knife with your left hand and offered it to him. „Thanks, I can use that!“

He took it from you, spun it once, and then proceeded to hold it against the throat of the guy that had just informed you of your would-be-assailants whereabouts. „I’m gonna need some of your shirt!“ He informed him. „What are you doing?“ You asked him when he tore off some fabric with the knife. „Well, I can’t have you bleed to death while I’m gone can I?“ Jerome said when he walked back over. You rolled your eyes in exasperation and just managed to stop short from face-palming yourself with your bloody hand. „You’re an absolute idiot!“ You stated when he handed you the torn piece of fabric. „Of course, that’s why I’m in here!“ He said as you took his face into your hands now. You smiled at him brightly before you kissed him twice, effectively leaving some blood on his face with your injured hand, which you both ignored. Jerome gave you one more kiss before he finally left, not without stabbing the eavesdropper while walking past him. „Be quick!“ You called after him. „Can’t promise anything!“ He dismissed you as he walked out the door. „… yeah, that’s gonna take a while.“ You said aloud to yourself.

[katyatalks]

Animestyle 2019/12 - MP100 Interview Translation

The December 2019 issue of animestyle contains ~50 pages of interviews, and I was lucky enough to be sent every page to read through. Interviewees include Tachikawa Yuzuru (director) & Kameda Yoshimichi (character designer). Contains a bunch of information regarding characters & topics like season 3, so please enjoy!

[Note that this Tumblr compilation misses out quite a few things from the original Twitter thread. If you’re curious, that thread is here.]

TACHIKAWA YUZURU (Director)

Wanted to go for a darker colour scheme for the characters and settings to fit the more dramatic themes in MP100, but Kameda disagreed, wanting to go for something more colourful

Considers S2 more ‘focused on humanity’ than S1

S1 was made without expectation of S2

When cutting bits of the manga from the anime adaptation, a “the viewer will still understand the point of the scene without these lines” approach was used

Considers S2 as having two parts; the character focused part, and claw arc. The decision was made to squeeze claw arc into 4 episodes as Tachikawa hated the idea of sacrificing content from the earlier part for a half-half split

He's well aware of how loved Reigen is; fans tell him so at mob events all the time

Considers the “who exactly am I” question that many of the characters deal with; finds it most impactful with Reigen, as he simply pretends to have powers, whereas Ritsu Mob Teru etc. actually have them

He holds Reigen arc dear to himself, in particular the “be a good person that’s all” conversation that gets put into the anime more than once

He considers Reigen’s growth one of the core themes of S2, alongside Mob’s own

Episode 8 was not in the original plan - S2 was meant to be 12 episodes much like S1.

The omake in which Tsubomi comes to the office was actually drawn for the purpose of giving the team something to put into ep 8 of the anime - team was struggling to find something from the manga to put in (“S&S team doing something for Mob”) so ONE created it

The reason why all the characters in Mob Psycho are so lovely is likely because ONE is a genuinely lovely person so it’s a reflection thing

In response to Reigen’s rant at Mob in ep 6 that causes their rift, Tachikawa says; “we’ve all had moments in which we know saying anything else would be the worst thing to do but we haven’t been able to stop ourselves”. It’s why the scene leaves an impression

In the manga you don’t get to see Reigen’s face after Mob tells him he’s a good person. They added it into the anime, and Tachikawa states that Kameda had a lot of trouble trying to figure out exactly what expression they should give Reigen

Discusses American highschooler Weilin Zhang (of ~17 years old), who drew up around 1800 frames for the purpose of S2E5

Reigen’s website was designed with the brief of it having to look cheap and shoddy

Considers Mob Psycho 100 as having the message “its okay for you to do the things you’d like to” at heart

Mention of not only Japanese fans but international fans increasing with S2

Describes Serizawa as becoming handsome after his haircut in the final episode of S2

On the topic of animating what’s left of the manga, says he’d like to give it a go

KAMEDA YOSHIMICHI (Character Design)

Slightly more time pressure on S2 than S1, which meant there was a bit of detail lost with the drawings for S2

Describes Shinra as a charming character

Goes on to say that he SUPER loves Shinra and really likes drawing him. Discusses how people tend to love attractive characters in anime and as a results there’s not many chubby characters, so he latched onto Shinra

Found the thoughts & feelings of characters a lot easier to read in S2 compared to S1, which made drawing their expressions easier. The more he worked on mob the more he found he understood the characters

Small discussion of Reigen’s behavioural shift from Ep3,4,5 to 6 & complexity of his character. Makes him hard to understand. But he understood Reigen’s feelings of regret in Ep7

Reigen shirt scene segment in Ep6 intended as fanservice

ONE has described Reigen & Mob’s relationship as being similar to that of the main character and the kid from the film “About A Boy” (Will and Marcus)

Compares Reigen to Sakai Masato’s character from “Legal High” (リーガル・ハイ), in that they both do bad things but aren’t ‘bad’

Regarding the choices they made with character shading (blurry on skin, but sharp-edged on hair & clothing), this was inspired by Disney (Aladdin, specifically). Originally they went for blurry-edge on clothes too but decided against it ultimately

Describes how each mob character is pretty distinct and it’s easy to recognise who is who; ie. if they have bobbed hair + no eyebrows, mob; a standoffish countenance, Ritsu; blond hair, Reigen

Describes how in contrast to the simplistic character designs, the atmosphere they’re surrounded by is complex

Amount of young animators working on mob psycho increased from S1

Final manuscripts for S2 were compiled in 2017

States that when he read the manga, Reigen Arc really touched him and it’s the main reason he decided to work on MP100. he was very upset that S1 ended without reaching Reigen arc, and he’s glad they got to tackle it in S2

He considers the growth that Reigen & Mob go through from S2E3 - E8 a principle part of what mp100 is all about

When asked about parts of the manga that haven’t been animated yet, Kameda says there’s a LOT he’d love to bring to the screen. He wants to finish off the anime as “we’ve gotten this far already”

Regarding a potential S3, Kameda is asked if there's really enough material left in the mp100 manga to fit 12 episodes... he agrees that there's probably not, so they could go for 10 episodes much like Attack on Titan S3 Part 2, or a movie. (This is not the first time Kameda has implied S3 could be a film instead.)

If/when they proceed with animating mp100 is dependent on director Tachikawa's schedule, as it's looking a little busy right now

TSUCHIGAMI ITSUKI (S2E11 storyboard, production)

Lead animators for MP100 tended to be young; mostly in their 20s, 2-3 people in their 30s, no one in their 40s

Never felt like he was in an atmosphere where he was under hellish time pressure to get things done

On being asked his thoughts on mp100 S2 as a whole, Tsuchigami says he enjoyed it but felt like it could've been longer. He was happy w the pace of E1-3, but felt dissatisfied with E4-5. Was happy with E6-8, but then with E9 onwards felt a bit dissatisfied

Felt like the story-related elements had to be cut down in order to fit the length of the season they were given; this is where his dissatisfaction stems from. Regardless, he very much enjoyed S2

OGASAWARA SHIN (Animation director, animator)

The staff working on MP100 were allowed a lot of creative freedom

Animation director for S2E3, and animated for E3 (from Reigen repeatedly pressing the doorbell of the stalker to Reigen saying let's go out for soba) and E11 (around the Justifiable Self-Defence Rush)

Reigen's Justifiable Self-Defence Rush was animated with the intention of giving it a manga-panel-like feel

S2 was completed without any huge blunder happening

UCHIDA NAOTO (Animation director, animator)

Originally did work for S1, but felt like nothing but a hindrance and wanted to crawl into a hole. But the workplace atmosphere was great and everyone was very kind, so it ended up being a good experience

Animation director for S2E4, and was split animation director with Nakamura Hayate for S2E10. Did animation for the opening, E1,4,5,10. E1 animation: around when Emi + pals are with Mob at the embankment. E4: from 'Nakamura's flashy explosion' ((Reigen cut by glass scene?)) to when the espers are being kicked around. E5: when Reigen and Dimple are having their back-and-forth. E10: layout of the awakening lab.

Found season 2 very enjoyable. Being an animation director was excellent. Character design? Godlike. Felt incredibly lucky that he got to take part

NAKAMURA HAYATE (Animation director, animator)

As stated above Uchida & Nakamura worked on S2E10 as animation directors. Uchida covered the first part of the episode, and Nakamura the latter half

Nakamura animated for S2E4 + E10. E4: around when Mob attacks Minori attempting to exorcise Mogami from her, E10: Suzuki + co's entrance, when Mob possessed by Dimple & Shibata exit the building, Telepathy Club scene, and from Mob + Body Improvement Club's parting to the final scene

Felt like he could've done a little better for S2. And on a personal level wishes he got to draw more action scenes

ETC.

We've had confirmation from ONE already that REIGEN is complete with a single volume, but we've got that confirmation again here too with the way the sales description is written

Thanks for reading!

[genius11rare]

Chit Chat 111620   11-16-20

Chitchat 111620 with Jack Michael Jeremys Chair and the disembodied voice of alfredo (no he left after set up immediately , never heard him) id put “keep reading” if i knew how for this sorry

Jack: hi im jack with my friends michael and Spearow the dragon (jeremys not here , theres a spyro … pillow i think on his chair).. So we made the mistake of doing 2 minecrafts backtoback  and it ended like 20 minutes ago then like “oh yeah we have other stuff we need to set up before”… Michael:  yeah this isnt so much a chitchat it is just a chit not really time for a chat. Jack: how about we chit about recapping extralife?  It went really well thank you everyone who watched and contributed, trying to get chat up right now…. Cuz we got Chit trying to get the Chat as well… this is the 4th year in a row we raised over 1 million$ , and were having some auctions for charity. Up for auction: 3D printed gen lock heads , pictures of the Spooky Hour (Gen Notes i thought they were done with that?) , the jon risinger bob ross segment painting , some f*face hats , some wood and glass sculptures (jeremy comes back during around this) … and gratz to jeremy for urinating and coming back *on time*  Jeremy: hey my bathroom is a few steps from here… that whole time was spent peeing Oooohhhh better. Jack: michael , jeremy got anything to say about whats happened recently. Michael: no uh…. Just recovering… Jeremy: oh that was hard to watch michael. Jack: oh i have this picture i posted on twitter of fiona milking gavin…. Spraying milk into his eyes , sounds weird when i phrase it like that see if i can post it. Fiona somehow got both eyes in one shot , none in the mouth (the goal) just eyes. If you don't know the context it looks like hes spraying milk from his head like some kind of anime demon… then the paintballs happened…. Usually with paintballs theyve been going a while and theyve calmed down , that time it was new compressors and we JUST started using them for michael and gavin (Michael: “they” as in the paintballs themselves , theyve calmed down) yeah so that time they still had a lot of OOMPF and it was like getting kicked in the head over and over. Michael: no that's good , kick me in the head all you want. I went second just so i could tell how bad it hurt , so i knew where to hit gavin to make it hurt the most… immediately flipped on it like “he doesnt deserve this” and shot the face (which hurt the least) as much to spare him… i did do a few tummy shots but still. Jack: the crotch was also a good spot cuz of the cockblocker… problem is if you missed they go left or right into your thigh Michael: the thigh and stomach hurt the most … our thighs are black Jeremy: were also doing the vinyl  Jack: oh yeah we reached our goal and putting AH the musical on a vinyl , plus a new song with Fiona ive been working with her trying to get the tone and everything (Gen notes im gonna guess its there so Still in the Air isnt…) … Jeremy wanna say what you offered up? Jeremy: yeah were doing the AH rap version 2 (Gen notes either A. a version with the rest of  “The B Team” to have verses , or B. redoing it without HIM) , been working on a beat for it … ive written one verse mine so far (Gen notes , think its option B then) but i feel like its a little TOO mean so i may dial it back down a bit … the plan is shorter verses but more people , so hopefully Myself , michael gavin , Jack , Fiona , the twins , Matt , Lindsay and MAYBE a verse where the  support room jump in one bar at a time , still in the works. Jack: yeah you guys DEMOLISHED goals, chads daughter she is so sweet… she saved up chore money and wanted to donate it all of her own , she wasn't convinced to she just wanted to donate 20$ which just broke everyone - well chad and i , caiti held it together, so we asked the audience to match her 20$...  over the course of 10 minutes that 20$ became 65000$... we broke extralife we legit broke their intake of donations. We also had 2 people there who if we needed to hand something to someone wed give it to them , theyd “baptize” it as covid precaution then give it to whoever. Michael: except cloth they were like “you touch cloth you own it” … was like i could walk away with a lot of things right here , this towel? This towels done (Jack: you just going around grabbing curtains) … (start paraphrasing)  we always want extralife to be like the best show ever cuz its for a good cause , but then this year we were like “how would we even pull it off”... i don't think 2020 extralife couldve gone better given everything (end paraphrasing) “fave extralife 2020 moment” Jack: my thing… Chad James is a freaking beast and towards the end the last segment we did was called the sweet and sour hour where caiti would do something nice and chad would get punished … it ended up getting stacked so we started doing some at once. At one point Chad is on the pummelhorse which is an elastic band that hits you in the undercarriage , chelsea was there with a leg wax remover , then we had cody from code 4 which is our compliance officer with hand sanitizer. So Blaine pummelhorses chad , chelsea leg waxes him and then cody sprays him with the antiseptic (michael: in his eyes… Gen Notes i mean hes probably kidding but idk it seems possible) … chads on the pummelhorse weeping and Blaines ALREADY spinning the wheel. Michael: its funny , theres so much stuff that happened and not just the segments i was there for , but a simple delight getting chad to eat that whole pickle … he was just saying “i cant do it ill throw up” and i just kept repeating “youu can dooooo iit...”... gave me some enjoyment since i was there basically to get slapped around , but in between i made chad eat a pickle Jack: so jeremy you have a fave moment? I know you were there for the solo stream section - oh i forgot about DJ JAAWNK how could i that was a blast Jeremy: yeah i was listening to most of the solo streamer section , i know Kdin had a thing where she gathered a bunch of people to do among us and it was fun…. For a certain donation amount they would just launch john mace into space , theyd just call a meeting and get him… Matt joined me playing spyro and i had the Gold Chonky spyro mods on , and if people donated enough wed spin a wheel that me or him would have to do.. We had to spin it like 15 times , and alot of them were “have to hold the controller upsidedown” which is a monstrosity… and twice it was me put a blindfold on and matt would have to direct me through the level. I panicked A LOT cuz you could HEAR the enemies shooting at and coming at you   but i didn't know where … it was like a live Matt and Jeremy do something - your welcome sarah! (Michael: you did do something… Spearow… Spearowmint gum)  so first were doing SPiderman Miles Morales PS4 edition cuz i don't have a PS5! Everyones talking about how they're sold out so the most ive done was when i was shopping for ovens i was like “lemme peruse the playstation aisle” didn't see one and went guess im not getting one… Jack: are they even selling them in person or is it just online… Michael: i know game stop is selling them , they're sold out but i know they were selling them.... Think most stores waiting for black friday to get them in store… i want one but im not going to a store on black friday , ill play fall guys if i want to get trampled Jack: oh yeah someone mentioned the ChungeScwa heist is coming we reached that goal Michael: fiona said i could be there, i asked can i help and she said something like “plz help , cuz otherwise it wont happen.” ive also offered doing a 50 turn mario party even though it wasn't a goal cuz we didn't even do last years so now wed owe 2 for 2021 assuming we can make that happen. Jack: cant you do a 100 turn mario party is that a thing? Michael: no 50 is the most , ive contemplated maybe we combine them into one game and scores carry over but it might be upsetting if im ahead by 9 stars after 50 turns and then it just becomes a 4 hour victory lap so its probably better to do 2 of them… we were about to do one in april we were planning on shooting it in april but then SOMETHING came up idk what it was … it just kept coming up for 7 months… Jeremy: and they don't stop coming and they don't stop coming… oh if were going to show my PS4 screen lemme show how much a  loser i am…. Jack: you got a platinum in bug snax?!?!? Jeremy: yuuuppppp!!!

[reluctantly-plus-ultra]

Rei (PART TWO)

I literally finished my university paper a day early so I would have time to write this up and keep giving you guys the Good Content™. Thanks for the overwhelming amount of support on part one, everybody!

-When Rei first tells them her plan for taking down Endeavor, they don’t think there’s any way it’ll actually work.

-The LOV has always operated as a physical unit, out to kick ass and take names. They didn’t band together for subtle espionage and demolishing reputations through intellect.

-But Rei’s adamant that going into a brawl won’t accomplish anything. After all, even if they did manage to beat him in a fight, Endeavor be seen as a martyr to the public, still a symbol of hope, the number one hero that defended them to the end. That’s not what they’re going for. Beyond that, the only way to keep him from rising again, in that sense, is to kill him, and while Rei Todoroki wants some well-deserved justice, she doesn’t want his life on her hands.

-So, instead, she suggests ruining his image. They’ll air out all the sheets of the Todoroki household, let the world know once and for all the truth behind the man they’ve placed their faith in. Force him to step down, allow him to finally reach that number one spot that he’s ruined the lives of her family to achieve, and then strip it from him with the evidence of the horrendous acts he committed to get there.

-”He lit this fire,” Rei says coldly, and the chill in the room doesn’t come from her quirk, “Now he can burn in it.”

-Personally, Dabi still wants to torch Endeavor’s ass straight to hell, but even he has to acknowledge that Rei has a point. Their odds of success are a lot higher going into this from a tactical perspective. The rest of the league can at least somewhat come to that conclusion as well, but there’s one main problem barring the way.

-Kurogiri is the one to point it out, asking how they’re going to get evidence of events that happened so many years ago. At the best, they have two witness testimonies, and there’s not a single court around that would take the word of a hospitalized woman and a well-known villain over that of their number one hero.

-And it’s then that Rei’s face hardens into an expression that none of them have seen before, delicate hands balling into tight fists, jaw clenched.

- “I can get you that evidence,” She claims easily enough, as if it’s something that can be pulled from thin air, “But I’m going to need a laptop, or a computer-”

-The very nice thing about co-inhabiting with criminals that have loose morals is that they can get you things very quickly, and typically for free. Rei has a laptop sitting in front of her before the night is up, and is furiously typing as soon as they get her logged in.

-It’s common knowledge in the league that Rei has a habit of mumbling to herself when deep in thought; this has been particularly prominent while working on the Endeavor plan

-And this has actually been pretty unsettling for a lot of the members, because for someone so sweet, Rei has a novel of shit that Endeavor needs to atone for, and she hasn’t forgotten a single insulting incident in twenty-four years. 

-What this means is that sometimes, when she’s working deep on the planning, divulging information about the number one hero, she’ll give them a list of his weaknesses, things that will set him off, ways that they can target him that nobody else is aware of (potentially even Endeavor himself)

-But then after that, she’ll start listing incidents. Her eyes will gloss over, and the words will just start tumbling out of her mouth as she crosses situations out of that novel, offenses that are being reciprocated through her sabotaging the man

-Her last round of info had made up for six incidents, and while the league had gradually been getting used to these episodes, the last one had packed a punch.

- “The time you forced Touya to train so hard, he broke three fingers and you still made him keep going for an hour after.”

- Any time she mentions incidents with Touya, the tension in the room goes up four notches. Dabi can’t believe some of the details she remembers, can barely remember them himself sometimes, but his ring finger on his right hand has been crooked ever since that day, and it serves as a stark reminder of the past they’ve endured.

-While she works at the laptop, though, the things she mutters are not incidents, but random sequences of letters and numbers, her hands moving in sync with the mumbled symbols.

-And it takes them a while to pick up on it, but these memorized segments are the extremely distorted weblinks to clearly self-made web pages, at least six or seven in total.

- She doesn’t stumble once. Not on a single number, not in any of it, and every single one of those links are complete gibberish, entirely disconnected from one another.

-The web pages are filled with images, all of them old, all of them pre-dating Rei’s hospital admittance

-And it’s with this that Dabi has to leave, storming out of the warehouse, and Rei gets this carefully blank look on her face, because they’re both reliving nightmares, and they’ve barely started scrolling the pages.

-There are scanned copies of journal entries written in different coloured crayons and a wobbly hand, more entries on some of the other web pages done much steadier and in pencil, but with the same printing. There are photos of bruises, scars, burns, four different children, one woman’s gaunt face. Personal accounts, typed and handwritten, short and blurry-quality video clips of Endeavor’s “training”. It’s a montage of horror, carefully collected and dispersed across the web through links that meant nothing, that would never come up as a result from a search engine, spread across multiple pages so that even if one page were found and deleted, there were many more to replace it.

-But none of them have been found, none of them have been taken down because Endeavor, man that he was, had assumed that because his wife never raised her fists, she wasn’t fighting back.

-It’s in that moment that it clicks with everyone else, too: Rei Todoroki didn’t come up with this plan to take down Endeavor in the few months they’ve known her- she’s been planning this for years.

-The way that Rei takes all of this in, and then almost too-calmly asks Kurogiri if he can please make her a cup of tea is terrifying, even to a room full of criminals.

-They all fall asleep restlessly that night, reminded of their own pasts and the demons that have led them to where they are- and as for Rei? Well, she gets to cross another twenty-seven incidents off her list, and when she falls asleep as well, the weight on her chest feels much lighter.

-When Hawks shows up the next day, it’s still early in the morning- early enough for most of the league to still be in bed, and a few hours before his time to patrol. He comes bearing a tin of sweets for Rei, her bitter, dark-haired son (she’s so happy he’s found a friend), and a USB stick.

- “I hear we’re raising hell,” He says cheerily by way of greeting.

-They go through the evidence quietly the hero scrolling through the pages with an increasingly scary look on his face.

-He doesn’t tell Rei what he and Dabi have already hashed out between the night before and six o’clock in the morning- that A) Hawks is definitely a spy, and damn did it ever piss him off to have Dabi out him so easily, because he was sure he had him fooled, B) Dabi won’t out him to the rest of the league so long as Hawks agrees to help Rei, and C) None of this can go through the Commission. Absolutely none of it.

-They’re both very aware that if the Commission gets their hands on this kind of info, it will be swept under the rug faster than either man can blink, and the people instigating the problem will probably disappear. Hawks has heard them use the sentence “It’s for the greater good” far too many times to cover up too many things, and a sickened part of him doesn’t want to consider if maybe they’ve used those exact same words to cover up situations like this before.

-And damn it all, he agrees even though he knows it’ll probably come around and bite him in the ass- because at this rate, if the Commission catches wind of him being affiliated with this plot in any way after it all breaks loose, he’ll be on the rack. But he tries not to consider what he has to lose, and instead focuses on the fact that he can help these people, and maybe others as well. Who knows how many “heroes” have ruined lives just like Endeavor and walked free.

-And really, in the heart of it all, he wants to help the Todoroki family. Sure, he doesn’t know Natsuo and Fuyumi and Shouto very well, but Rei has slowly warmed over a portion of his heart that he didn’t realize was lacking a mother figure, and Dabi means more to him than he’d like to admit. Growing up, he was never given the liberty of being attached to people, tangible people who were his equals and not his icons. Now, having grown so fond of these two in particular, he’s beginning to understand why some people are willing to lay everything on the line for family.

-So he goes through the evidence and does his best to ignore how Rei strokes her hands through Dabi’s hair as the two of them watch as well, not entirely sure who the action is meant to comfort more. All the while, he’s trying to match up the man in these entries, the man in these clips and photos, to the man he’s risked his life for, fought beside, trusted wholeheartedly.

-Betrayal has a bitter taste, and it lingers in his mouth.

- He’s just finishing up downloading all the files onto the USB drive, when Rei finally speaks.

- “If this works, you’ll be the new Number One.”

-His hands stumble on the keys, and a sinking sense of melancholy sets in. Quite honestly, Hawks has never aimed for the Number One position in the way that others do. He’s never gone after it like he needed to have the top position or nothing- in fact, he would be happy to settle lower in the top ten then where he is now.

-But there’s really no avoiding it, and while he’s not sure what kind of complications it will have in his career, in his mission, in his growing relationships with both Rei and Dabi, he determines that’s a problem for another day.

-“I’ll be better than him.” Hawks says, the words coming out as more of a promise than the assurance he intended. Rei’s answering smile is caught somewhere between satisfied, bittersweet, and proud.

- “Good.”

-He takes the USB stick, gives Rei a quick hug and demands that she eat at least three of the chocolates herself before passing them around to everyone else (because he absolutely knows that she will) and leaves a shared parting look with Dabi that means everything and nothing all at once.

-Rei notices of course, but it’s really not her place to pry and she’s honestly not even sure that Touya himself has any idea what his current situation is with the winged hero, so she chooses to let the matter drop. The fact that the chocolates Hawks brought her happen to be her son’s favourite doesn’t entirely go over her head either, but she chooses to let that slide as well

- In the end, true to their collective nature, the LOV still agrees to also attempt a physical attack on the Number One hero, if only to bolster their media image. After all, they’ve been lying low long enough that the hero world needs a reminder that they’re still alive and kicking.

-And honestly, maybe just a little, they also want to give the world an image of Endeavor being taken down in more ways than one.

-Dabi volunteers immediately, that much kind of being a given, but everyone’s surprised when Rei offers to go as well. So far, everyone aside from the league and Hawks is still under the impression that Rei’s hospitalized- her image still isn’t tarnished, and if she wanted to, she could walk away from the league that minute and never suffer consequences for it. The instant her face is shown in correlation with them? There’s no going back from that.

-But she’s adamant, and it’s with some reluctance that they give in. In some ways, it’s only fair- this is personal for her after all, so it makes sense that she’d want to be involved. They settle on letting the mother and son handle the fire hero, and make plans to have everyone else ready to back them up if needs be.

-Besides, they’re out to absolutely destroy his image, and what better way to do that than have Endeavor’s own family do so? Bonus points for dramatic flair, nobody will be forgetting this for a while.

-Before long, it’s the night before the whole operation, and everyone’s restless as hell. Twice and Toga watch five consecutive episodes of some awful cake-decorating show that neither of them can stand before calling it a night, Spinner’s gone for most of the evening, and in a rare show of caring, Shigaraki puts down a steaming cup of soothing tea in front of Rei, the kind that she always steeps for him when he starts getting antsy and in his head. It’s a kind gesture from the young man, and she makes sure to smile warmly when she thanks him for it, pleased when he chooses to stay and sit at the table with her. They don’t make conversation, but just knowing that the other is around is comforting in itself.

-Rei ends up staying up later than he does, and it’s with a somewhat awkward and unpracticed motion that the man reaches out to pat her hand before heading to his own room, the action jerky like a rusty machine, but still appreciated. Rei smiles into her cup when she notices that the leader of their rag-tag little group has been gradually getting more tactile with those around him, wearing those gloves she made for him at almost all times. He still has a long way to go before he’ll be able to handle true contact, but she can see the effort he’s making, and every little bit of progress marks a new milestone.

-Dabi also spends the night away from the league, but Rei isn’t too worried about her eldest child. She knows exactly where he’ll end up, knows that he’s in good hands. After all, there’s probably nowhere safer for him to be than with the one other person in this world who cares for him just as much as she does.

-And on that note, Hawks spends most of the night discreetly flying all across Japan, dropping off printed files of incriminating evidence under an anonymous cover and using several fake emails to reach out to news agencies, freelance journalists, newspapers, magazine editors- anybody he can think of who would take this on as a scoop and spread the proof like wildfire. By the next morning, he knows that he’ll be seeing this stuff all over the media- he just hopes it’s been enough.

-When he returns home to find the door already unlocked, he doesn’t even bother turning on the lights. Instead, he locks the door behind him and makes his way over to the couch, not surprised at all to discover a familiar lanky figure passed out unawares.

-Normally he’d just leave him, maybe toss a blanket over the other man in passing, and continue on his way. But… After tonight, everything was going to change, and who knew what was going to happen to all of them, yes, but especially him and Dabi and this… Well, whatever it was that they were building.

-So he wakes the other man up instead, smiling as blue eyes catch on his own, and they talk. They talk about everything Hawks can think of to talk about, every little question he’s ever wanted to know about this mysterious person who’s taken up such a huge portion of his life recently. And for once, Dabi doesn’t meet him with resistance for his curiosity, seeming to have come to the same conclusion. 

-Eventually they end up in Hawks’ bed, still just talking, laying side by side. There’s a strange sense of rebellion in the intimacy of it all, and the part of Hawks that has always loved pushing boundaries, fighting his leash, is basking in this. The Commission had wanted him to get close to Dabi, but he doubts they’d intended for him to get close enough to press a brave kiss to the other man’s forehead as they both start drifting off, to be close enough to hear his breath stutter before he hesitantly drapes an arm over the hero’s waist. If they could see him now, they’d expect him to be luring Dabi into some kind of trap, stabbing him in the back after earning his trust.

-But for now, the greatest “fuck you” he can send their way is by choosing to be gentle over violent, by choosing this person over his mission, by going after what he wants for once, damn it-

- “You won’t be there tomorrow, will you?”

-No, no he won’t be. As a hero, if he were present, he’d be expected to step in, and that’s the last thing he wants to do here, especially if it means facing off against not only Dabi, but Rei as well. The thought of even acting threatening to the woman is enough to turn his stomach.

-And honestly, if anyone had ever told Hawks that at twenty three and well into his professional career, he would find himself cradling a villain in his bed and whispering promising words of encouragement about the upcoming takedown of his childhood idol, he would never have believed them.

-Eventually they fall asleep this way, and Dabi has never really known, in all his life, what safety feels like but he’s pretty sure this is it.

-Skipping ahead to the next morning, Endeavor is already out on patrol when the news bombs start dropping. And of course, the reaction from the public is… Explosive, to say the least.

-There’s a lot of shock and a lot of horror, and absolute outrage. The only thing to really do in a situation like this, as far as news is concerned, is to go for a follow-up, so there are people all over the city trying to track down their Number One to get some answers.

-Meanwhile, Endeavor has no clue this is happening. At this point, the worst part of his day is not yet the fact that his hero career will be over in the span of a week, but that he ran into a familiar crispy edgelord and just… Doesn’t have time for this shit again.

-He expects Dabi to start monologuing to some degree, so when the villain starts off with, “Do you remember me?” it’s not really any kind of surprise.

-But it’s when Dabi responds to his irritated retort with a more firm, “No- do you remember me?” that Endeavor halts in his tracks a little bit. He’s not entirely sure what this creepy asshole is going for, but it’s setting him on edge, like there’s something in this situation that he has missed observing.

-And, for starters, he’s missed seeing the film crew behind him, although he will notice them eventually. 

-But then this criminal starts talking about his children. Shouto, Natsuo, Fuyumi. He talks about how Shouto was kept separate from them, how he isolated the other two like they were never good enough, how he pushed his youngest so hard, the boy cried himself to sleep every night. Dabi starts listing events, scenarios, as if he gave a shit about them, as if he was there-

-And that’s when it clicks.

-When it does, he just outright cuts the other man off, a scowl working its way onto his face, disgust curdling in his gut. Part of him can’t believe it, that his long lost son has returned to him in the form of a ghoul, and the other part doesn’t accept it at all.

- “You’re not Touya.”

-At first, Dabi stares at him incredulously and starts to laugh, because how the hell could he not be, given the list of offences he just spouted off, but Endeavor corrects him, voice chillingly cold. “You might’ve been, but you’re not anymore. I gave you that name, and I can just as easily take it away. I set you up for greatness, and you chose this?!”

-The rage is bubbling over now, and the look on Dabi’s face has gone from one of irritated humour to a sheer blank slate. “You’re not my son. No family of mine would be so weak as to fall into villainy.”

-And, well, that line basically digs his grave for him, because from out of the shadows steps Rei Todoroki, and in the ways her eyes are blazing, one could’ve sworn she’d stolen Endeavour’s Hellfire right out of his hands.

-Instantaneously, half of Japan is losing their collective shit. In the span of six whole hours, Endeavor’s been exposed, Touya Todoroki is back from the dead (and is, as it turns out, one of the most prominent LOV members), and Endeavor’s wife has not only escaped the hospital she was admitted in, but has apparently sided with the villains as well? And this is all being filmed on live television?

-Every building with a functional TV is tuned in. Hawks is in line for coffee when he catches sight of the news channel and decides he’s going to slow down for once in his life, and not take it to go. Natsuo is watching the whole thing go down while munching on a bowl of cereal in his apartment, and as shocking as the whole situation is, it’s immensely satisfying as well.

-Shouto Todoroki watches from the dorm common room, and nobody knows what to say.

-And let’s just talk about Aizawa for a moment, shall we?

-Aizawa is a stoic man of few words, and even fewer needs in life. He’s simple, pragmatic, a slightly pessimistic rationalist through experience, and pretty laid back as far as most things go.

-But you don’t ever fuck around with his students.

-If anyone is going to react poorly about this, it is Shouta Aizawa, hands down. Unlike Hawks, Aizawa has never looked up to Endeavor as a hero. He’s never even liked the guy. And therefore, he has nothing to lose when his manageable contempt for the hero escalates to seering, undiluted hatred. Aizawa does not have a fuck to give; Endeavor just made it onto his shit-list.

-And the worst part of it is that he didn’t really suspect anything. He probably would’ve assumed that Endeavor was hard on his son, but he would never have guessed even remotely close to everything that’s been uncovered. And this is Shouto, Shouto who is always so polite and aloof, and so eerily unshakable for a boy his age.

-Hell, his classmates just got him to partake in his first Disney marathon four days ago, and he couldn’t stop grinning all the way through Frozen. The boy’s made so much progress in being here, has been finally opening up and making friends- but now he’s staring blankly at the TV screen while the news feeds roll, and Aizawa is literally quaking he is so pissed off. 

-So while the rest of his students gather somewhat uncomfortably in the common room, watching the television with wide eyes, all of them clearly trying to decide between going to comfort the youngest Todoroki and leaving him be, Aizawa walks in with an extra blanket and two mugs of tea and just… Chills with him? The rest of the class is shook.

-And Aizawa doesn’t say anything either. He just gestures towards the TV and asks if Todoroki would like it left on, and when the boy gives him a silent nod back, he’s content to leave it at that. 

-Gradually, the rest of class 1-A begins to gather as well, quietly collecting around their shaken classmate. The couch is not near big enough for all of them, but they make it work.

-Midoriya’s curled into Todoroki’s other side, Iida and Uraraka sitting by his feet on the floor. Surprisingly enough, Bakugou chooses to stand, but directly behind where Todoroki’s seated on the sofa, hovering at his back and looking silently livid, which is even worse than when he’s loud. There’s students gathered around on the floor, standing like the blond, sitting on the arm of the couch like Kaminari is perched. 

-And it’s bad enough going through the Endeavor twist, but when Dabi reveals himself as Touya, Todoroki just blanches. There’s a million things running across his face all at once, and half of them are crushed. 

-Even Aizawa doesn’t really know how to react to that, and the room falls into a hushed silence until Bakugou finally speaks up.

- “I can’t believe your fucking brother kidnapped me, Icy Hot.”

-And then suddenly, noise. Kirishima is squawking and smacking Bakugou’ arm and telling him not to be insensitive, and Midoriya is overanalyzing, and Aoyama’s saying something about the woods and the Summer Camp attack, but nobody can really hear him-

-And over it all, Todoroki is laughing. It’s not an entirely wholehearted laugh, but it’s a laugh nonetheless. 

-When Rei steps up, though, that laughter fades quickly. Suddenly, Shouto Todoroki is four years old again, watching his mother face his raging inferno of a father, and all the previous boisterous life in the room gets sucked out at the sight.

-Throughout all of this, Aizawa’s been trying to keep his distance somewhat. Shouto’s never been a very affectionate student or individual in general, and neither is the erasing-quirk hero. But seeing how tiny and frail his student appears, shrinking in on himself as the drama keeps unfolding- well, Shouta doesn’t hesitate to put a comforting arm over the boy’s shoulders, noting with approval that Midoriya has snagged one of Todoroki’s hands as well, and is trying to keep him grounded.

-He gets a few notifications that he’s being paged to head out onto the scene, but he ignores them. Aizawa’s priorities are and always have been his students. If some other hero cares enough about hauling Endeavor’s ass out of trouble, they can rush in and help him, but Aizawa’s never been shy about making his opinions clear. He’s right where he needs to be, and he’s not moving.

-Rei is not afraid.

-That’s the first thing she realizes when she makes a move to stand by Touya, and sees Enji’s eyes widen in disbelief. She has stood in this exact position so many times, has stood before this man on too many occasions to be afraid of the wrath in his eyes. She is not afraid, she has evened the playing field, and she will not let him break her again.

-The worst part of the whole thing isn’t even seeing him again, meeting like this with the remains of a shattered family falling down around them. The worst part is that he sees her, narrows his eyes, and tells her to get out of the way. The first words out of his mouth are an order, same as they’ve always been. And right now? She has no intention of complying. Never again.

-When she doesn’t move, he repeats himself, angrier this time. He’s pouring flames, a spectacle that would have instilled her with enough terror ten years ago to do whatever he said, and not speak a word. But as she sees Endeavor winding up to attack, eyes fixed on Touya, the young man, her boy, reaching out to pull her behind him-

-Endeavor lunges. Rei shoves. Dabi ends up on the ground well out of harm’s way, and for a moment, the world stops on its axis.

-Enji Todoroki did not bribe over an entire family to win a woman with a run-of-the-mill ice quirk. Were that the case, he never would have wasted his time. Rei was a meek woman with a powerful ability that she barely used, and never in extremes; a little bit of frost to cool a juicebox, a cool hand to soothe a scrape.

-So when an absolutely terrifying, guttural roar of a sentence reaches him, seconds before thousands of pounds worth of ice go shooting up in a very obviously threatening display of power, he’s inclined to stop dead. 

- “Don’t you dare touch my son.”

- Rei’s teeth are clenched, eyes hard, hands still braced to fight. The exertion of putting up so much ice hasn’t even seemed to affect her, a simple flick of the finger compared to the full-handed slap she could deliver.

-For once, Endeavor hesitates.

- “You won’t lay a damned hand on him,” She hisses, and a collection of icicles shoot forward at her words, though they stop a good four meters away from where he stands, “I’ll never let you do that again. Because you were right about one thing, Enji- he’s not your son. He’s mine. Natsuo, Shouto, Fuyumi, Touya; they are all my children. You haven’t done a single thing in this life to deserve them.”

-Endeavor sputters at this, but only for a second before Rei’s ice is growing again, eyes cold and dangerous.

-He manages some kind of threat about having her rehospitalized, still unsure how it happened that she was out in the first place. Rei’s smile is not a pleasant one.

- “I don’t recommend you try that.” She says quietly, and in seconds, there’s ice everywhere, Rei unleashing her powers for the first time in well over twenty-five years. It shoots up in an enormous plume, cutting itself short before reaching the reporting camera crew, but forcing Endeavor to leap out of the way and scramble to safety.

-Rei and Dabi slip away in the confusion, regrouping with the league who were hoping to see some more general ass-kicking, but greatly appreciated the display nonetheless.

-And across the rest of Japan, people notice. Hawks chokes on his coffee when the ice flares up, stunned to disbelief that sweet little Rei, who had been so careful preening out his bad feathers that time he got stuck in a storm, was effortlessly capable of this. Natsuo drops his bowl, Shouto sits agape. None of them have ever seen Rei use her powers to her full capability, and the effect is stunning. 

- “That explains… A great deal.” Aizawa mumbles eventually, voice barely audible over one Katsuki Bakugou shouting “Fuck yeah!” at the top of his lungs from behind the sofa, very nearly scaring Midoriya off the couch. The news roll continues, but there’s nothing more to see aside from Endeavor shouting at a group of heroes that have arrived suspiciously late.

- “I… Yeah, I guess so.” Todoroki manages. It’s overwhelming, all of it, and while he has a billion questions in his mind, there’s one that sticks out more than the others: what on earth does all of this mean for them now?

What this means is that I guess we’re doing a part three now too, because I don’t know how to cut things short. Sorry guys. Thanks for the support, if you’ve read this far, and hopefully I’ll have some new content up for you all soon!

[humbae]

A fanfic for you!!

Below the cut, a submission from a wonderful person. Ylvis fanfiction of the Vegard whump variety, I most definitely recommend reading it for all those interested in the subject.

Hey hey! I only now discovered your AO3 stories and enjoyed them so much! It actually inspired me to write one of my own based on the events from this summer. You don’t have to post this, I was just interested to hear your opinion on my first fanfic ever :). Thanks a lot for your wonderful work! He would have never believed that a simple single kick could hurt so much. But he did not regret the idea - after all, it was a lot of fun, and the pain would eventually go away and make a nice memory. He limped to work, curious to see how Vegard and Calle were handling their own ordeals. When he opened the door to the office he and Vegard shared however, he was surprised to find it empty.

It was odd; Vegard was almost never late, and even when he was late, he would still arrive earlier than Baard. Baard just put it down to him probably oversleeping for once or having a slow morning after an intense day at work yesterday. That’s how life gets after 40, he thought to himself, smirked and got to work.

He didn’t have to wonder about Vegard’s whereabouts for too long. Five minutes later, his phone beeped and he saw a message in which Vegard informed him that he will be most likely working from home today. 

“That won’t be possible.”, Baard replied. “The guy who is supposed to accompany the show with the accordion just told me that he will be showing up today instead of tomorrow so that we go over the music together, he had some changes in his schedule. He is coming at 14.00.”.

“Do I have to be there for that? Cannot we just arrange it through Skype?”, Vegard replied.

Baard was taken aback. This was not a reaction he would ever expect from Vegard when music, and especially accordion (which they both liked so much), were involved.

“Don’t be a lazyass, just come to the office. What’s up? Why can’t you come?”

There was no response for a couple of minutes, and Baard was just at the verge of calling Vegard, when he saw that Vegard replied with “On my way.”.

An hour later, when Vegard showed up, it became very obvious to Baard why Vegard wanted to stay at home. He did see his brother walking very funnily yesterday - funnily enough for him to put it on Instagram - but this was a whole different level. He had his scooter with him, but only to act as a crutch instead of using it as an actual scooter. He was not putting any weight on his leg.

“Why didn’t you drive if it hurts to walk, you idiot?”, Baard greeted.

“Nice to see you too… I just don’t trust my leg to work with the pedals in a state like this, that is all.”, Vegard said still with some agony and irritation in his face.

“But does it really hurt so much? I mean, my leg is also fairly painful, but I hope I look nowhere this pathetic.”

“Thank you, trust me, if I could choose, I would indeed opt for looking less pathetic.”, Vegard replied and rolled his eyes. Baard decided not to respond and just made a mental note to drive Vegard home at the end of the day; Vegard was obviously not in a mood for being teased right now, and it was Baard’s fault after all that they were all in this state now. 

Things went a bit better after they started working. This was most likely because Vegard could just sit in his chair, so his mood improved significantly as he was without the added pain of walking. 

The lunch-time was approaching, which the four of them usually spent together eating outside, in front of the building to enjoy the warm summer weather.

“Hungry yet?” Baard suggested after his belly started making noises.

“No, not really, I think I will skip lunch today.”

Baard raised his eyebrows; this was nothing like his brother. It would be usually his brother making the lunch suggestion first.

“You mind elaborating on why?”

“Do I have to? You will call me a whiny little bitch if I do." 

"I will call you that anyway. So what is up?”

Vegard sighted. “It is just that the prospect of staying hungry looks far more appealing than the prospect of having to walk outside or even to the fridge, that’s all.”

Only then Baard understood how bad Vegard’s leg must have hurt. 

“We can also have it in the shared office space today. The weather is not that nice anyway.”

“Don’t restrict yourself, I am sure you would prefer to have it outside.”, Vegard insisted.

“I will ask Calle, but both he and myself are also still limping, so I am sure both Magnus and Calle will agree to stay here. And I will get you your lunch from the fridge and bring it. Just get your lazy sorry ass over there in the meantime." 

A couple of moments later, they all gathered in the shared space to have lunch. Both Calle and Baard appreciated making the decision to stay inside as they were both limping towards their chairs; Vegard just rolled there directly on the chair from his office that he was already sitting on. 

Baard and Calle spent the lunch discussing the consequences of the kicks they both received and laughing at the other related events from the previous day. Magnus was just mostly listening, happy that he did not have to go through the ordeal himself, and laughing loudly with them. 

The only silent member of the lunch party was Vegard. This was very unusual, he was typically the one who talked the most. Normally, him being a bit silent for once would be a welcome, refreshing change to the other three, but combined with the misery and paleness written all over his face, it was clear that this was not a good sign. To try to involve him a bit and raise his spirits, Calle started what the three of them called an "aircraft chat mood fixing technique” - a strategy they used anytime they needed to improve Vegard’s mood and get some excitement out of him. Calle even started spitting clearly incorrect aircraft facts just to prompt Vegard to correct him and force some engagement, but nothing was successful.

“You look like shit, Vegard.”, Baard said finally.

“If you want me to look less like shit, don’t invite MMA fighters to kick us on the TV.”, Vegard replied, but there was no humour in his voice. 

Then he sighted and continued. “I just don’t know why it seems to be hurting me so much more than the two of you.” Ah, that’s it, Baard thought; that’s the reason, next to the pain obviously, why Vegad is so upset. Over the years they have worked together on TV, Vegard seemed to have learnt to deal with most of the derogatory comments he had been receiving very well, whether it was about him being clumsy, short, fat, nerdy or looking Turkish, but to this day, he still hated to be seen as weak and helpless.

“It did seem like he kicked you the hardest.”, Calle admitted.

“Which is what I especially don’t understand, since you -” Magnus continued, but Baard interrupted him right away with an intense look directed his way.

“It does not matter now anyway. Let’s get back to work.”. Baard knew that the last thing Vegard now needed to hear were comments about his size, implying that he indeed was weak and helpless. They left the table and went (and rolled) back to their offices.

The rest of the afternoon flew quickly. The musician arrived, and, fortunately, the sound of the accordion and making of music at least helped improve Vegard’s spirits sufficiently to make the afternoon more bearable for everyone involved. 

Right after the musician was gone, Vegard announced that he was going home. Baard turned, and right away, without a word, he stood up, took his coat and his car keys and indicated that he was ready, too.

It took a moment for Vegard to realise that Baard was intending to take him home by car. A wave of relief hit him that he did not even have to ask for such a favour from his little brother in front of everyone else. He just let out a silent “thanks” to which Baard replied with a simple head nod and a smile. 

The relief quickly disappeared when he realised he first had to make it all the way down to where Baard’s car was parked. He felt nauseous at the thought of having to put any weight on his leg again, and as a result turned even paler than he already was. But there was no way he was going to ask Baard or any from his friends for support really, the most of them were also still limping and Magnus would literally have to carry him in his arms if he were to help him - he was too tall for Vegard to put his arm around his neck for support.

Calle and Magnus both noticed Vegard’s unease and after telling the brothers to wait a few minutes, they emerged from the storage room with the wheelchair they used back during IKMY for their guest pranks. Vegard thought that a wheelchair was definitely a bit of an overkill, but in his current condition, even being carried on a stretcher would be more appealing than walking. In addition, since the wheelchair was well known around the building from the pranks, at least other people would not know that something was wrong and could only assume that the brothers were testing it again for another prank. They thanked Magnus and Calle and left.

The ride home was mostly silent. Baard felt a bit guilty for being responsible for a segment which ended up with his brother in such a state, and Vegard still felt a bit ashamed for being so heavily affected by something that the others could deal with so much easier. 

“You know that we do have a couple of meetings which we have to attend in person this week, right?” Baard said as they approached Vegard’s house.

Vegard just managed to let out a little “Hnngh”, hoping to put an end to that conversation for now, but Baard would not let go. “If the pain continues to be this bad, maybe you should go see a doctor?”. Vegard hated doctors, but having Baard actually talking to him about something this seriously, without any teasing or mockery, meant that he must have been even a little worried, and so Vegard was not going to dismiss it completely. “If it does not get better, yes… but I am sure it soon will.”.

…

It didn’t. When the follow-up messages of “Working from home today, sorry” arrived to Baard’s phone during the next two consecutive mornings, Baard knew Vegard would not go to the doctor without additional persuasion. He was getting truly concerned - the pain in his own leg was almost gone now, and the same for Calle, so if Vegard’s leg was still hurting as much that he could not walk, something was obviously very wrong. Maybe if he mentioned how it could potentially affect the show, his brother would be more reasonable? He called Vegard.

“We cannot delay the show because of your stupid leg. Go see a doctor. You have to be here tomorrow morning anyway for the meeting.”, Baard said.

“Then I still have time until tomorrow morning for it to get better.”, Vegard insisted.

“It will obviously not, don’t be stupid. Go to the doctor today.”

“Well, ok, I would, but Helene is gone with the kids, so she cannot take me today. Maybe the day after tomorrow then or next week?”

Baard was having none of this.

“If Helene is gone, then I am the one taking you to the doctor. Make an appointment and tell me when to pick you up. Now.”

“What?”

“You heard me well. Find a doctor and make an appointment NOW, or I will do even that for you." 

Vegard remained silent for a moment. He has never seen Baard behaving like this; this was always Vegard’s behaviour towards his little brothers instead.

"Is that silence a ‘no’ Vegard? Should I call my physio and ask him if he can make an appointment for my stubborn 40-year-old brother?" 

"No, no, ok, I will find someone." 

Baard was pleased with himself and made a mental note to do this more often. While it was not really something he would ever expect himself to do back to Vegard, it was a surprisingly effective persuasion method. In half an hour, Vegard messaged him to ask him to pick him up with a specific time and destination of the doctor’s office.

When Baard came to Vegard’s house, he was alarmed to find his brother looking equally as pale and miserable as he did the two days before that. He helped him jump on one leg to the car and felt bad for having to rush him to make it to the doctor on time. 

Only five minutes after coming to the waiting room, a physiotherapist appeared and called Vegard’s name. Vegard stood up onto his one working leg and started heading into the direction of the office. Baard felt a bit awkward; unsure as whether to follow or not. On one hand, going to the doctor’s office with your 40 year old brother together would seem crazy to most people; they were both grown up, independent adults. On the other, he was genuinely curious about the state of his brother’s leg and seeing how out of it Vegard was, he thought it would be a good idea for Vegard to have someone there who could actually be clear-headed and write things down. 

Having decided that he would join, he took the opportunity that Vegard clearly struggled to get to the office, so he stood up and allowed Vegard to use him as a support. 

"So, what did you do?”, The doctor asked while filling out the paperwork. 

“I think that might be pretty hard to explain… ” Vegard started, but the doctor interrupted him right away.

“Mr. Ylvisaaker, I know who you are and what you do. I have no expectations regarding what I am going to hear now.”

The brothers laughed. Baard, being responsible for what happened, spared his brother the duty of explaining, and described their little vegetable stunt. After the doctor stopped laughing, he instructed Vegard to lie down and remove his clothing. 

When Vegard put his pants down to show the physiotherapist the injury, Baard couldn’t believe what he saw. A dark, red area spread across the entire back-side of Vegard’s thigh. He himself wondered whether he had something similar on his own thigh after the kick; he has not really checked. He started to really question whether the stunt was worth it.

The doctor showed them the ultrasound pictures of the hematoma and prescribed Vegard crutches until further notice to aid healing. Vegard initially protested, but Baard knew that the protest was just a formality for Vegard to feel like he was acting manly, as Vegard knew very well that the crutches were necessary at this point. Only one question remained unanswered.

“How long…?” Baard asked.

“These hematomas are quite tricky. We can only accelerate the healing process by preventing additional strain and injury - which is why you have to use the crutches - but otherwise it is very individual. A hematoma of this size can take months to heal.”

They all remained silent for the moment. Vegard knew what it meant; it meant that the vacation Helene and the kids looked so much forward to would have to be cancelled. It also meant that a lot of the segments they were planning to film to make the show a bit more interesting would not happen. Filming action scenes with one man limping on crutches while he should be resting his leg was not an option, and would probably not be received well by the public. This entire show was already organized on the very last minute, and now it looked like even more would have to be figured out on the spot with so many ideas, some of which were already half-baked, discarded. 

Baard was thinking the same. But this time, he was the one in the role of the big brother and seeing how troubled Vegard looked over the entire prognosis, he returned him the little favour that Vegard always did for him - Baard looked at his older brother, smiled reassuringly and said, “that’s fine”.

They thanked the doctor, picked up the crutches from a pharmacy along with some creams and pain killers and went back to the car. They just sat there and allowed the news to sink in, including the consequences they were now going to face. Baard was the first one who started.

“You know… had I known that this would happen…”, Baard said, before Vegard interrupted him to tell him that he understands and is not angry about it. 

They drove back to Vegard’s place. Staring at the house, after a moment, Vegard looked at his brother with anxiety in his eyes. Neither of them talked, and yet an entire conversation seemed to have taken place. Baard just verbally concluded it with “Yes, I will talk to her. Though if I do, maybe I will end up in a worse condition than you are right now.”, Baard smiled and so did Vegard.

*****

End of submission.

Dearest anon, this was the most amazing surprise, thank you so much! And of course I posted this, everyone should have the chance to read this lovely fic. Because yes, I liked it a lot! It was very well written, had a good pace, lots of emotions, logical progression, believable dialogue, a little bit of humour, and a whole bucketful of brofeels. Absolutely loved it! And it definitely hit the spot for me, this is exactly what I was thinking about when I heard of the kicking and its consequences, so thank you for making a story out of it. Also, I’m very flattered that my scribblings could inspire you, thank you very much for the kind words. You should definitely write more if the urge strikes you, this was highly enjoyable :)

[let-it-raines]

Catch Me if You Can (7/?)

298 days. That’s how long Killian Jones was away from a baseball field. It’s less than a year, only part of a season for him, but it might as well have lasted a decade as he alternated between physical therapy and spending an excessive amount of time sitting on his couch.

But then he came back and won the World Series.

It’s something no one saw coming, and it’s certainly not something anyone who knows about his arm would predict. Now it’s a new season with new possibilities, and anything could happen. On-field reporter Emma Swan will be there to cover it all even if she is not his biggest fan right now.

Asking her out live on-air will do that.

Rating: Mature

A/N: Oh my, oh my! Something big happened last chapter, didn’t it? Sorry for the delay in posting! I got on a prompt kick and didn’t want to overwhelm you guys with words! But don’t worry! I’ve officially written 19 chapters of this story😱 and still have some more to go! Shout out to @resident-of-storybrooke for beta-ing all these bad boys!

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current 

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Tag list: @royalswan @shey-starsfury @sals86 @iam2307 @ashley-knightingale @snowbellewells @karenfrommisthaven @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @emmas-storybook @ultimiflos @jamif @idristardis @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @wellhellotragic @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @ultraluckycatnd @cs-forlife @andiirivera@jonirobinson64 @mariakov81 @galaxyzxstark @qualitycoffeethings @thejollyroger-writer

-/-

One. Two.

One. Two.

One. Two.

It’s a repetitive motion that Emma can’t stop, her fist continuously hitting against the punching bag in front of her until she’s finished with her reps and every inch of her body feels like some kind of expired jell-o that’s at the bottom of her kitchen cabinets.

Why did she ever even buy jell-o? That is not something that she usually would have even bought unless she was randomly trying to attempt to make a recipe to take to dinner at David and Mary Margaret’s.

That must have been an odd day. What would she even have been making?

Emma drops the gloves she borrowed from the hotel into the basket, her hands slicked in sweat, and wipes her forehead down with the back of her forearm before bending down to pick up her phone and walk out of the gym. She can already feel that she overdid it today, that she’s barely going to be able to move tomorrow, but in the words of Elle Woods, happy people don’t kill their husbands.

Wait. What?

She definitely skipped forward on the lines there. She was most definitely leaning more toward exercise giving endorphins and making people happy or marginally less frustrated with the state of their lives. She’s on the second half of that spectrum, and she’s not afraid to admit it.

To herself at least. There is absolutely no way that she’s telling someone else what exactly it is that’s going on in her head. That’s probably unhealthy, but she’s not going to worry about that right now.

Ducking out of the gym, she immediately moves toward the back staircase of the hotel she’s staying in, avoiding the breakfast buffet area no matter how much she wants a bottle of water and something to eat. She bets they have waffles. But nope. No. She is not entertaining the idea, and she is not going there. The team is staying at this hotel (thanks David for nearly always booking them in the same place when that’s most definitely not necessary), and she is avoiding Killian Jones at all costs.

Because she kissed him.

(And he kissed her back.)

She fucking kissed Killian Jones, who is most definitely high on the list of people she should not be kissing, and yet she knows exactly how soft his lips are compared to the scruff on his chin. She knows that he makes this deep growl noise when she bites his lip, and she knows that he likes to focus on one lip at a time, specifically her upper one.

She knows that it feels damn good.

She knows a lot more than she should because she should never know how it feels to kiss him.

After he asked her out, after all of the fame and harassment and annoyances that came with that, she told herself that she would be pissed at him, that she would hate him and be annoyed and absolutely have nothing to do with him outside of a professional capacity.

That lasted for a solid two minutes once she saw him again.

It’s this…tether of sorts between them, and she doesn’t understand it. Their conversations are easy, even if they’re not always fluid, and she flirts with him. She knows that she does. She’d have to be blind and deaf and incompetent not to realize this, and she kind of hates herself for falling into the trap that so many others have fallen into. And it’s not that he has a full dating history, that he was once more known for who he was sleeping with than how his arm was working. That’s not it at all.

(Though she does have thoughts and questions and worries because she can spot a man running from something from a mile away, and that’s exactly what all of that had to have been. He was not sleeping around like that simply because he could.)

It’s her job.

She hates that she’s been flirting with him because of her job. She hates that she kissed him because of that.

Professionalism is important to her, and she’s hated how she’s rarely been taken seriously. A female working in sports, especially male-focused sports, is a rarity. Most women are shoved off to the side to only commentate on softball or women’s soccer (which is just soccer, by the way) or the WNBA. They’re not allowed to work with the men, the networks not promoting them, but Emma was promoted. She got the job even without much on-air experience, and even if it was partially because of David, she still did that for herself.

And she worked hard to make sure that she was taken seriously.

Then Killian Jones asked her out, and eighty percent of that effort went down the drain in one quick motion under the loud cheers of the stadium crowd and the rapid beating of her heart.

So, she can’t be kissing him in tunnels in the stadium or flirting with him over breakfast. She simply can’t. Because then there’s a picture of them somewhere, that picture makes its way to her bosses, and she’s having to sit in an HR meeting even though it’s not actually against the rules for her to date a player. But the rules don’t matter when it’s the rumors that will kill her.

Rumors make the world go round while also destroying lives all at once.

People will wonder if she’s been sleeping with Killian since before he asked her out. That’ll make them wonder if she slept her way to her job, which would validate the thoughts of so many people. If they date and break up, she’ll never be known for her job again. She’ll always be known as Jones’s ex, and no part of her is under the impression that she’ll be transferred to another team. She’ll be forced to interview him and record segments and commentate on his games.

All of her credibility will disappear, and she simply can’t do that.

Not when she’s been working so hard to build it up.

Neal was always making fun of her for her job, for her major, for her love of baseball, of tennis, of soccer, of anything. She put up it with it at first, being young and so stupidly in love that she thought he could walk on the moon without any help, but as the years dragged on, as she continued to work at ESPN while in college, it really started to take a toll on her that her boyfriend diminished her choices as if her career was a silly little hobby that meant nothing. She gets it. She’s not a doctor or a human right’s lawyer or a teacher. She’s not changing the world. But this is what she does, what she enjoys, and no one should ever be allowed to make her feel bad for that.

If you love someone, you don’t diminish their interests.

Neal made her feel like the shittiest person in the world every single time she put her job or school above him. Even if it was simply that she couldn’t go out to a bar with him because she needed to study, he made her feel like she was doing him some kind of disservice, like she owed him her time instead of giving it to herself.

The two of them had so many issues, some that she never got to resolve, but the biggest was that he consistently made her feel like she was nothing but a girl playing pretend in having a career and a family just like she’d been doing her entire life.

Asshole.

Walsh was the same way, but even he didn’t mess her up and make her question everything in the way that Neal did. If he did, she imagines her work experience would be even more different now, that having to see him occasionally would be more than a little annoyance.

Another reason dating someone she works with is a horrible idea.

Emma does all of this for herself because she loves it, but at the back of her mind, she can still hear his voice telling her that she’s not good enough and should leave all of this to the professionals. All she wants is for that voice to go away, for him to stop taking up space in her mind.  

And that’s exactly why she can’t make out with Killian Jones again. It would be a horrific idea in every single way. Her body says yes, her mind says hell no.

Okay, it could be that her body says hell yes and her mind says a very quiet no, but that’s not at all what’s supposed to be happening. Signals are getting crossed somewhere.

Once she’s to her hotel room’s floor, she pushes open the stairwell door and checks to make sure there’s no one around like the paranoid person that she is, before jogging down the carpeted hallway to her room. Ruby isn’t with her for this trip, so she’s got the room to herself. It’s quiet, and while Emma can appreciate that, she kind of misses Ruby. They’re pretty much attached at the hip at all times, so the few times a year where Emma travels and Ruby doesn’t or vice versa are a little lonely. At least she doesn’t have to room with someone she doesn’t really know. That happened once, and that’s an experience Emma never wants to have again.

Her phone rings in her hand, and she nearly drops it from the shock, only pulling herself together enough to answer and place it on speaker so that she doesn’t have to hold it up to her sweaty ear.

“Mom is pissed at you,” David practically yells to her, something he does whenever he’s walking outside the office. Sure enough, she can hear the faint sounds of traffic and construction.

Ignoring the fact that he just called Ruth her mom, something he always seems to do, she sighs and flops down on the bed, not caring how sweaty she is. “Because I missed Easter? I told her that was happening ahead of time. I’m literally across the country, David.”

“She misses you.”

“I talk to her all of the time.”

“That’s not the same as going home, and you know it.”

Emma huffs, kicking her foot against the carpet. “I know that, but I don’t have several days off until a few weeks from now. I can go spend a month up there once the season is over.”

“That’s not entirely true. You still work for us full time, technically. Not the team.”

“I know that.”

“I’m just saying – ”

“David.”

“What?”

“Is she really pissed at me?”

“No,” he exhales, the background noise disappearing in the way that she knows that it does when he’s walked back into the office. “It was different having a holiday without you is all. Maybe I’ll invite her to come stay with us when you’re home for a bit. That way it’s the best of both worlds.”

“Okay, Hannah Montana.”

“We are both too old for that reference.”

“I’m only a year older than Miley Cyrus.”

“That makes me feel ancient.”

“Well, you are.” Emma twists her hands in the sheets on the bed, causing them to wrinkle before letting go. “I have to be at the stadium in two hours, but I promise I’ll call Ruth tomorrow before I get on the plane to go to San Francisco.”

“She’d like that. How are you? How’s California? I feel like we never get to talk when you’re on the road.”

“I freaking love California,” she sighs, putting her phone to the side so she can get out of these sweaty clothes and into a robe. “The weather is so nice this time of year, there’s a beach, the food is great. The traffic sucks, but the traffic sucks at home too. I don’t know. I feel like if I had to live somewhere else, it’d be out here.”

“I’m pretty sure Mom will be even more annoyed if you move across the country.”

“That’s what you got out of that?”

“Pretty much.”

Emma groans as she struggles to get her sports bra off, having to tug and pull until it snaps free and slaps against her skin. “I would never leave you guys. Or Ruby and Graham. I need someone to cook all of my meals for me. I’m too dependent on that.”

“Like the adult you are.”

“Exactly.” She finally gets her bra off, which feels like some kind of triumph, and tosses it onto the desk where all of her notes for today’s game. “David, I’ve got to get ready for today, but I’ll talk to you later, okay? Tell Marg and Leo that I’m invading the house on my off day when I get home.”

“They’ll both be at school that day.”

“After they get home. I’m obviously going to sleep throughout the entire morning.”

“Obviously. I’ll talk to you later. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

-/-

The Dodgers absolutely obliterate the Yankees that afternoon. 11-2.

Killian gets pulled in the bottom of the third.

Will Scarlet nearly gets thrown out for arguing with the umpire.

August Booth loses his footing and falls against third base in a move that has everyone saying he has a wooden leg for all of his flexibility.

It’s an all-around disaster of a game, a horrible way to close the series, and when she goes into the clubhouse to try to talk about it and break down what happened, the only man who will even acknowledge her is Eric Fisher. He barely gives her anything.

Not a great day at the office for anyone.

-/-

It’s two hours after the game is finished that she finally gets back to the hotel. There’s a sour feeling in her stomach over it all, frustration with the loss and with her coverage. The guys are usually pretty good at talking to her, coaches and managers included, but sometimes when there’s a loss like that, no one feels like acknowledging her presence. It’s fine. Honestly and truly it is. She wouldn’t want to talk to an annoying reporter after having her ass handed to her on a silver platter either, but that doesn’t make her feel any better about anything.

Maybe the sour feeling in her stomach has to do with the fact that she hasn’t eaten anything other than a granola bar all day. She knows not to do that, honestly and truly, but since she’s trying not to eat in front of a camera after the last few games that she’s worked, she didn’t get something to eat at work today. She definitely should have stolen some of the fruit from the craft services table inside of the press box when she went up there to get her microphone.

After flipping through the room service catalog and deciding that there is no way in hell she’s paying that much for a bowl of pasta, she orders a box of pizza to be delivered, and starts scrolling through the channels on her television trying to find a movie to watch. She needs to pack up for her early flight tomorrow, but since she’s already in her sweatpants and has taken her bra off, that seems like far too much effort. She’ll do it in the morning. Working under pressure has always kind of been her thing.

Finally, she decides on Titanic. It doesn’t matter how many times she’s seen it before. It’s a classic, and it’ll keep her entertained. Just as Rose and Jack are standing at the helm of the boat with their arms in the air, her hotel phone rings.

“Hello?”

“Miss Swan,” the voice says, “your pizza is here, but you have to come to the lobby to get it.”

She groans a little before speaking. “Okay, that’s fine. I’ll be right there.”

Emma rises from the bed and hastily puts on her sneakers, tucking the laces into the shoes instead of tying them, and walks out of her hotel room so that she can go down to the lobby to get her pizza. This better be good pizza, but it probably won’t even matter with how hungry she is.

She finds the guy easily, handing him his tip as he hands her the small box, and she thinks she’s made it home free until she turns around and practically runs into Ariel Fisher.

“Hi, Emma,” she smiles, as bright and friendly as she always is. Seriously. She’s always friendly and polished, and Emma is literally wearing sweatpants and a tank top with no bra. Her shoes aren’t even tied. “How are you?”

“I’m great,” she says, forcing a smile. “How are you? How’s Eric? He didn’t seem to be having too great of a day.”

Ariel shakes her head from side to side and rolls her eyes. “They’re all a bunch of oversized children. Seriously. They lose nearly as much as they win, but they never quite stop complaining.”

“I think that’s all men, if I’m honest.”

Ariel barks out a laugh, her red curls falling back behind her shoulders as her hand lands on her chest over her heart. “Absolutely true. Hey,” she starts, eyes glancing over Emma in a way that makes her stomach twist, “a few of us are sitting up on the roof right now. They have a bar and this charming little firepit. Why don’t you join us?”

“Uh,” she stutters, pulling her bottom lips between her teeth and trying to think of an excuse as to how to get out of this, “thank you, but I think I probably shouldn’t intrude. I was fully planning on kind of vegging out on my pizza.”

“You can do that up with us! It’s fine! If any of them try to take your food, swat them away. They’ve all eaten. Come on. It’ll be great.”

She has the word no on her tongue but never gets to say it as Ariel smiles at her again and grabs onto her elbow, pulling her along with her. Emma could easily say no again and walk away, but she finds herself following along in the elevators and listening to Ariel go on and on about how much she loves when they get to be in California for a week like this, even if they don’t get to stay in the same city the entire time. Emma can wholeheartedly agree with this, so she continues to make small talk as the floors tick off and the elevator door opens up to the rooftop.

The sun hasn’t quite set all the way, so there’s an orange tint to the darkness of the sky that reflects off the stringed lights that move across the roof. The noise level up here is already much louder than downstairs, and she can see the bar full of people as well as the large firepit with chairs surrounding it. Immediately, her eyes scan over the group, and she recognizes Eric, Will, Arthur, Robin, Phillip and Killian. Of course he’s there. Why would he not be? She also sees Arthur’s wife, Jennifer, and Belle French, Will’s girlfriend. It’s odd to know all of these people without really knowing them, and she feels like an intruder coming up here to sit with them.

At least everyone is dressed the way she is, and she doesn’t look like a total slob.

Okay, maybe she does.

Shit, she doesn’t have a bra on, it’s kind of chilly up here, and her tank top is far too thin. Idly, she wonders if she can make a break for it and run right now, but everyone has already seen her.

“I found a stray in the lobby,” Ariel sighs as she walks into the circle and sits in a chair next to her husband. “I pretty much dragged her to sit up here with us, and no one ask her for her pizza. That’s hers, and she’s not sharing.”

“That makes me sound great. Thanks,” she chuckles awkwardly as her eyes scan the circle for a place to sit, and because the world hates her, the only open chair is right next to Killian Jones.

Of-fucking-course.

He’s very pointedly not looking at her, which she both appreciates and hates, and maybe that’s what drives her to walk around the circle, the fire warming her a bit, and sit down into the lounge chair next to him, her pizza box sitting on the table in between them.

“Your attire is a little different there than usual, Swan,” Will points out, dangling his beer bottle in the air.

“So is yours. It’s probably a good thing they make you wear a uniform because your clothes don’t match at all.”

The conversation dies down around her, everyone stopping what they’re saying, and she can feel the blush rising to her cheeks until Belle starts giggling, her hand covering her mouth as her wine sloshes around in its glass in the other.

“She’s right, babe. Your outfit is awful.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“You have on a Hawaiian shirt, Scarlet,” Robin yells from his seat. “That isn’t even in style in Hawaii. All you need is a fanny pack.”

“I’ve heard those are coming back in style, actually,” Eric adds.

“Absolutely not,” Ariel laughs.

“Why do they call them fanny packs if they don’t go on your ass?” Emma questions in as she leans over and takes a slice of her pizza out of the box, figuring if she’s eating, she won’t have to talk as much.

“They’re supposed to be worn on your ass.” She twists her head to look at Killian at the same time that he looks at her, quickly glancing away and adjusting his faded Vanderbilt sweatshirt. “But people are assholes and steal shit, so everyone wears them on their stomach now.”

“Thank you, professor Jones,” Will mocks, doing a fake bow.

“I hate when you call me that.”

“It’s very fitting. You’re a know-it-all.”

“That is decidedly untrue.”

“I agree with Will,” Arthur adds in, and Emma can practically feel the tension between he and Killian simply by the tone of his voice. What the hell happened there? “You do act like you know everything.”

“I can guarantee that I don’t,” Killian grits out all the while she takes another bite of her pizza. She should have gotten popcorn instead because this is honestly like a show.

“It’s the way you talk,” Robin says kindly, and she subtly twists her head to the side to look at him. “You can’t help it. Your brain is always running through scenarios and coming up with questions and looking for more information. The way you look at stat sheets is insane. I think it all stems from your physics degree.”

“You have a physics degree?” she blurts out, and she can feel every head in the circle turn to look at her.

Outsider.

“No,” Killian says quietly, propping his jean covered legs up on the concrete rim of the fireplace. “I have most of one. I didn’t finish school before I got called up.”

“Huh, I didn’t know that.”

“There’s lots of things you don’t know about me, love.”

All of her intestines twist within her stomach, and she smiles at the intensity of his gaze before biting into her pizza crust. This is all a bit overwhelming yet fascinating, and this is probably the first time she’s ever spent time with all of these people outside of a baseball stadium. Well, except for Killian, but she’s decided that he doesn’t count.

“And most of them are not good,” Eric teases, only for Killian to hold up his middle finger at the man.

“Killian is fantastic,” Ariel gushes, betraying her husband. “Seriously. I love him, and you guys are all assholes to him sometimes.”

“Babe, I don’t think defending him like he’s in kindergarten is going to help his case. I don’t think he even has a case with Emma. Really, I’m surprised she’s even willing to be in a five-foot radius of him.”

“We can beat him up for you, if you want,” Will supplies.

“If you hit him in the face, though, he won’t be marketable anymore,” Belle laughs. Emma’s never really talked to her before, but she’s funny. That’s a good match for Will.

“I take offense to that,” Killian huffs, crossing his arms and letting his muscles flex under the material of his sweatshirt. “I am marketable for more than just my face.”

“Your ass is another one.”

“And technically your arm.”

“I’ve heard things about his thighs.”

“Oh, and his eyes.”

“That counts as part of his face.”

“You are all fucking assholes,” Killian laughs, his eyes crinkling as his head tilts back. “I spend all of my days with you people, being kind, helping with presents to buy for your wives and girlfriends, helping you win games, and all you do is give me shit in front of Emma when she already thinks that I’m the biggest ass in the world.”

“Not the biggest,” she corrects, the words flowing before she stops herself. Did she have wine or something today? Because she is not in her right mind. “I know at least a handful of people who I would put above you on that list. Will, for instance.”

A smile starts on the left side of Killian’s lips and stretches to the other, his white teeth on display as the now nearly completely fading sun sets a soft glow over his skin, making his tan deeper. She’s never going to deny that he’s attractive, that she’s attracted to him, but she has to deny the feeling of attraction that’s not physical. She’s kissed the lips making that smile, and her body tells her to do it again. But she can’t. Simply sitting up here with him is probably dangerous enough.

“You are much more fun outside of work, Emma Swan,” Will sighs, and it’s his voice that has her looking away from Killian and the way that his blue eyes were focused on her.

“I’m fun at work too, thank you very much. It’s just that with some of you guys, it’s like pulling teeth to get an interview. Eric was the only one who would even give me one today.”

“To be fair,” Robin sighs, “I wasn’t there.”

“No, no,” Eric laughs, kissing his wife’s head. “Don’t try to take this away from me. I got the gold star today. Maybe you’ll get it tomorrow.”

“Maybe I’ll also help us win tomorrow.”

From there it’s a roar of conversation, all of them debating back and forth about the game and what went wrong, what they should have done, what they will do next time. It’s a conversation she’s sure Al already had with them in the locker room after she left, but it’s still fascinating to see them have it in such a casual setting where they all have drinks in their hands or their phones out. She swears that August Booth hasn’t looked up from the notebook he’s writing in the entire time she’s been out here, and Arthur’s wife hasn’t said a single word, even to Arthur.

By the time that she’s been out there for an hour, goosebumps rising on her arms, she’s learned more about the personal lives of the players than she has in her three years of covering the team. Will is most definitely the one who jokes around the most, and Belle is always bringing him back to earth. Robin reminds her of David in the way that he plays the role of Dad despite being near the same age as most everyone out here. Eric and Ariel remind her of David and Mary Margaret too, except a little bit more fun, and it’s kind of this weird connection that she’s making between the people in her personal life and the people in her professional.

Robin, August, Phillip, Arthur, and Jennifer have all gone inside, each of them excusing themselves throughout the hour, and the roar of conversation has dulled to quiet ones between the six of them that remain.

She’s finished half of her pizza by this point, but since she’s starting to feel awkward again, she opens up the box and takes a slice out, biting into it only to see Killian take a picture of her eating with her phone.

“What the hell are you doing?” she mumbles, covering her mouth.

He smiles and takes another picture before putting his phone in his lap. “I didn’t see you eating on the jumbotron today, so I figured the tradition of people filming you needed to continue.”

“That’s really weird.”

“Never said I wasn’t.”

She finishes chewing and puts her half-eaten slice down on top of the box. “I have purposefully been avoiding eating while working since it’s obviously now a running joke.”

“That’s why I had to continue it.” He moves his eyebrows across his forehead, and a chill runs down her spine, causing her to rub her hands over her arm to combat some of the chill. “You cold, Swan?”

“I’m fine,” she lies.

“I can see the gooseflesh on your arms.”

“It’s fine.” She waves him away and adjusts her tank top, crossing her arms over her chest because she can see her nipples through the material. “Nothing the fire can’t fix.”

Suddenly Killian leans forward and grabs onto the nape of his sweatshirt, pulling it over his head. His shirt comes up with the movement, revealing muscles and hair on his stomach, and she glances down quickly before looking up to him holding his sweatshirt out to her, the chain he wears around his neck shining against his black shirt.

“Here,” he offers, a soft smile on his face.

“That’s not necessary.”

“Love, please. I know you can’t be warm. It’s fine. It’s just a sweatshirt, not a marriage proposal.”

She will do anything to have him not continue that kind of thought process, so she quickly takes the sweatshirt and pulls it over her head. It’s soft, obviously well loved, and probably about two sizes too big for her as the arms are a little long and the hemline would most likely land below her ass.

“Thank you,” she smiles, nodding her head. “I’ll give it back before I go to my room.”

“Of course you will. That’s my favorite sweatshirt. It’s not getting out of my sight.”

“Why do I feel like you would do murderous things if I don’t give this back?”

“Because I would.”

She laughs and curves her legs up underneath her thighs as the picks up her pizza again. She is eating nothing but vegetables tomorrow. “You want something to eat? It’s all I can offer in return for the sweatshirt.”

“Is it all just pepperoni and cheese?”

“Yep. It’s not like anything at home, but it’ll do.”

He nods his head and leans over to open the box, perusing the pieces before taking two and folding them together. “I think sometimes people try to add too much to their pizzas. Toppings are great, but sometimes simple is better. Classics are classics for a reason.”

“You’re one of those people who thinks everyone should read classic books, aren’t you?”

“They’re good.”

“Not all of them are.”

“You’re disturbed.”

“Maybe.”

“Thank you for the pizza,” he mumbles, taking a large bite as he adjusts in his seat, leaning in a little closer to Emma as they speak. “I’ll pay you back for it.”

“It was, like, ten bucks,” she promises, reaching her hand forward to touch his forearm to reassure him. “It’s fine.”

“It’s the gentlemanly thing to do to pay you back.”

“Oh, so now you’re a gentleman?”

He winks, and heat rises on her cheeks as her eyes glance from his lashes to his lips. “I’m always a gentleman.”

All of the sudden, his words sink in. He may simply be offering to pay for half of a pizza for her, but the implication of more is behind it. He’s asked her out on a date, they’ve shared a really good kiss, and she can’t do this no matter how much she wants to.

Oh wow. She wants to.

But she can’t.

Her career is too important to her, and she absolutely cannot ruin that, not now. Dating Killian, even considering it, is a horrible idea for approximately seventeen different reasons. He wouldn’t just break her heart if it didn’t work out, he’d break her career too.

It’s all too much, and even if they’re simply having a conversation right now, she can read between the lines.

Rising from her chair with a rapidly beating heart, she finally notices that all of the people around them have disappeared, only people she doesn’t know filling the seats.

“Swan?”

“Swan?”

“Emma?”

“Yeah?” she gasps, twisting her head back to look at Killian.

He smiles, and guilt settles into her stomach. “What are you doing?”

“I, um,” she mumbles, already taking a step away, “just remembered that my flight is super early tomorrow, and I haven’t packed. So I’ve got to go. Enjoy the pizza. I’ll see you in San Francisco.”

She’s running. She knows that she is. There’s no denying it, and she doesn’t even care until she’s in the elevator and the mirrored doors are closing in front of her to show that she’s still wearing his sweatshirt, the scent of Killian Jones overwhelming her.

[b-ap]

[181117] B.A.P Forever Tour in Philadelphia - Highlight of my Life

This was really one of the best concerts I’ve ever gone to. Despite being skeptical of JSJ from the beginning, I was still willing to risk it and buy the tickets. I was debating for a while to drop $400 or not for m&g but when you think about it, it was only $30 per photo with each of the boys (+ a hat, hoodie, and whistle) so that’s HELLA worth it.  So I dropped nearly $600 for this concert but for real it was SO worth it. I was even willing to go down by bus all by myself and possibly wandering the streets of philly late at night for it but luckily was able to catch a ride! 

These two BABYz gave out numbers from the very beginning like they marked down if you were plat or baby package and in the end JSJ and fans actually honored them! It was really great cuz we were able to leave the line to go to the bathroom or get food! BABYz around me were so nice and friendly too ;u; When it was time to go in to soundcheck and for the concert, we all actually got in order! It was REALLY nice like wow thank you philly babyz!! We were let in a little late for soundcheck cuz apparently bap was doing some kind of interview?? As for soundcheck, it was sooOOOoooOOO good!!! They kinda mixed up plat and baby but oh well whatever I still got like 3rd row so *^* WOOHOO! The stage was up really high and the venue was quite small, but philly crowd’s passion was explosive and powerful!! At the beginning of soundcheck Zelo kept like peeking out from the backstage door *^* they were ODing the fog machine so you could only see silhouettes at the door sometimes OTL. Daehyun was the first to come out! He came in this big puffer jacket and had earphones and and was smiling so cutely!! That wonderful wonderful kitty smile!! OH MY HEART PLEASE HAVE MERCY!! And then the others came out! <3 Zelo was wearing like PJ pants lmao the same one he wore in that IG pic of him in the truck, jongup was wearing leather (i think.....), himchan wore the tour hoodie, and youngjae wore a long coat. BUT YEAH the first song they did was TMJ and the crowd was hella LIT!!! Like everyone was singing their lungs out and jumping and being really really excited! We all started jamming out hardcore at the very first note of TMJ and I just knew it was about to be epic. BAP was sooo happy!! They really enjoyed it as well!  And then they did DWIF and omfg daehyun was soooo cute cuz we were so loud during the OH!! part that he was like :O!!!!! and gave us two thumbs up!! The others were really happy too!! And then Zelo was controlling the crowd with his hands LOL like he was making us go side to side like a wave and then jongup was doing this weird dance too lmaooo we hyped up each other so much! It was soo much fun ;A; too bad we couldn’t record but JSJ got a ( video )~!! Like just listen to BABYz singing along at the beginning!! ( dh shocked at 0:41, thumbs up at 0:51)

We had to go back outside again after the concert and that’s when the line got a little messy since now there was also GA peeps and the sidewalk is only so big to fit like 3 different lines. But it worked out in the end and we got in order!! AND YA GIRL GOT FCKN 2ND ROW HEEEEEEEEELLLL YEAHH!! I had a GREAT view!! There was actually quite a lot of space and like NO pushing!! (except this one bishhhh but whatever that’s another story -.- i’ll delete her from my memory) But wow pit was fCKN great like wow the fanchants!! The whistles!! NO PUSHING!! LIKE WHAT WOOOW I LOVE YOU (this was an all standing venue btw). When we were waiting for the concert to start, they played a bunch of their songs and everyone was scream-singing the lyrics (well more like trying to LOL we can’t korean) We had our own bap concert with an empty stage lmaooo 

AND AHHHH BAP WAS SOOOO GOOD AT FANSERVICE!!! Himchan noticed me like several times i fucking cRy!! He looked and waved at mee TWICE and like gestured to focus on zelo for recording and taking pics when it was his part AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! Like last year he saw me struggling in pit (cuz that was HELL) and looked worried I CRY and he smiled at me too huuuhuuu himchan youre a fckn angel I LOVE YOU!!! I made a half heart at daehyun and hE FCKN COMPLETED IT I WAS ABOUT TO FCKN DIE RIGHT THEN AND THERE LIKE !!!!!!!!!!!! JOngup threw so many hearts and kisses at the crowd and youngjae blew so many kisses!! They were waving as much as possible to fans and daehyun, bless his heart, kept saying thank you!!thank you!! at any chance he could get!

During Q&A, bap spent the longest time arguing about harry potter houses pmsl and then yj was just like idk i never watched it (shame on you bro) and then himchan was like EXPECTRO PATRONUM!! (nerrRRRddddd). Jongup said he was fckn Dobby like bruH thats not even a house!!! YJ was like forget this!! and said, “PASS!!” Himchan said that he was Slytherin and then jongup said that Himchan would be fkcn Snape and did this dramatic coat sweeping straightening up his back thing LOL so himchan said Jongup would be a muggle pmsl Zelo did like a broom riding imitation??? irdk.... Next question was what was your favorite song that you’ve ever made. Jongup answered Photo and sang a little of it (so then where is the studio version biiSHHHhh) but lol BABYz were like SEXY CLAP!!!!!! Youngjae pulled out a question, looked at it and was like NOPE! and put it back pmsl! The next question was what tricks can Mochii do and then youngjae was frckn like body slamming zelo and jongup lmaooo. Zelo was sooooo cute he was telling the story of how Mochii bit in all in English!! He said how he was eating and was struggling to explain that Mochii was under the table so BABYz were helping him! He said that he dropped cheese and then Mochii went to eat it but Zelo tried to stop him. Mochii bit and and then Zelo was like “ooh! bloood! my dog is ...wildlife” but the way he said blood was soo cute like the oo in moon instead of “blud”  This sweet precious boy!! His English was so good!!!! The next question was to sing happy birthday to a BABY named Jenny (wow you LUCKY girl im sooo jelly omfg). So Zelo sings her hbd really dramatically lmao and they give her their sweaty towel and Zelo gave her a water bottle too!! They’re so sweet!!!!!!! 

During their other talk segment, Youngjae was like since our tour in america, philly has been the most passionate! So we all SCREAMED and cheered like crazy! Daehyun was like hold up!! AGAIN! and went to grab a phone. He made us all scream and cheer again so he could record it. The boys kept gesturing to scream louder and more and were totally enjoying the cheers! I hope we conveyed our love for them well enough!! Also Daehyun release that footage soon pls!!! He told us we did a good job screaming lmaoo! Youngjae kept making sounds for us to repeat lmao like ooOOoooo (idk how to describe it LOL) and then was like “maestro!” when trying to silence us with his fingers like a conductor LOL but we kept screaming things LOL someone was like “this is my first kpop concert!!” so youngjae was like “sounds good!” and gave a thumbs up. Jongup also did the conductor thing hahahah Daehyun promised to come back again next year and I REALLY REALLY hope that they do!!!! 

The solos were beyond amazing. Like rewatching youngjae and daehyun’s solos made me tear up like how do such beautiful voices exist in this world? Did I really hear those ethereal voices in real life? It was sooo mesmerizing and breathtaking! Youngjae’s gorgeous baritone voice singing that smooth ballad huuuhuuu my heEArt!!! Daehyun’s heartwrenchingly beautiful voice, song, and lyrics wow let me just lie down and drown in my tears rn bYE! DaeUp’s duet was so cool, Jongup’s TML was perfect as usual, Zelo’s solo was sinful oh my those hip and that peach *blushes* it was suuuper fun and Zelo enjoyed it a LOT too!!! He lifted up his shirt!! 

THEN IT WAS M&G TIME!!! They set up the background right in front of the stage. We lined up to go in and bap was standing like: jongup, youngjae, daehyun, himchan, zelo! It was plat individual photos first, then baby group + hi-touch, then plat group + hi-touch. BABYz really went for it!! Like a lot of us got hugs! We were able to watch the whole m&g but they didnt let us have our phones out ;A; (and I also had used up all 6.5 GB of space on my phone OTL) BAP were SOOOOOOOO sweet UGH we stan literal ANGELS!! They love BABYz so fricken much!! JSJ was sooo nice to allow a lot of fan interactions AHHHHHHHH BAP did a lot of cute poses and played around with BABYz! LEt mE TELL YOU THAT BAP IS SERIOUSLY SOOOO FUCKING BEAUTIFUL, HANDSOME, GORGEOUS, STUNNING, MESMERIZING, UP CLOSE HOW DID MY HEART EVEN SURVIVE?????? I GOT TO BEAR HUG EVERYONEEEE THEYRE ALL SO TALL AND IM HELLA SMOL SO THEY HAD TO SQUAT DOWN FOR ME HUUHUU THYE LIKE PATTED MY BACK DURING THE HUGS TOO AHHHHHH WE HAD A DECENT AMOUNT OF TIME WITH ALL OF THEM!!! I TOLD DAEHYUN I SAW HIM IN KOREA IN ASU AND HE WAS LIKE OOOOOH THANK YOU!!! CURSES TO MY TINY AF VOICE CUZ I DONT THINK THEY ALL EVEN REALLY HEARD WHAT I SAID SOMETIMES!!! I told Zelo he was too tall for me lmaooo I really wanna see how much he had to bend down for me! I seriously wished that my m&g was recorded but :((((((((((( After my m&g I legit squealed and hugged my friend lmao but the staff yelled at us for being too loud LMAO BUT GIRL WE JUST HUGGED FCKN KINGS LIKE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! We tried to contain ourselves as much as possible LOL Daehyun said thank you out loud to a lot of BABYz after their m&g! Zelo kept dabbing at BABYz lmaooo a lot of them didnt notice tho cuz he would do it after they had already passed him HAHAHA when it was my hi-touch I dabbed at Zelo hahah and he dabbed back :D I wanted to get a group hug from them but i got too excited and FUCKING FORGOT to ask for a group hug *kicks myself* Now I wish I had written my name on a name tag (like “HI I’M JUNIE”) and hope they wouldve said “HI JUNIE”  but I didnt OTL 

I really wish I could relive the whole day. I wish I was able to record my m&g and got a group hug or them to say my name or I had said something more to them but it’s ok my heart is very very happy and I love bap soo much. My 7 year love for them continues and I will really love them forever. Let’s meet again soon, my loves! I’m looking forward to then~! 

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

Debut of Bitty and the Beats!

What a night! Concert in the Stars kicked off with the opening act, Bitty and the Beats, making its debut on the campsite! Then after that we’ll have Pearl and Marianne along with Fran and Mike perform some Broadway tunes and two new singles Pearl has been working on for Fran and Marianne.

Pretty much a good part of tonight’s concert is new stuff that has yet to be released in the near future and campsite exclusive bands. Concert in the Stars just began and it’s already off to a great start! Along with this show, the next three concerts have already sold out!

Bitty and the Beats started out as a little spark of inspiration. After a long day of hunting bugs, Bitty asked me to help her put on a little concert for the critters. The bugs that night were extra chatty and Bitty started coming up with a nice rhythm to accompany the crickets and cicadas chirping. Next thing we know, we were jamming out!

So for the opening act, Bitty, her tambourine, and the bugs put on a nice rhythm. The audience was bopping their heads to every number and since then I’ve had Bossa Nova Beats stuck in my head all night! Bitty sure knows how to open a concert!

Definitely looking forward to seeing Bitty perform again! Maybe we could do a nature themed show! Or maybe even a short play with the Beats as the orchestra!

Next up are Pearl and Marianne, backed by Fran and Mike, performing songs from various shows like Everything We Know, Music Everywhere - Anytime!, Across the Wide Rivers, and Life Changes Everything. 

My absolute favorite was the title track from Everything We Know - it’s one of the best love songs ever! You can see how much they’re in love with each other, and even if their relationship’s full of ups and downs, if you work together, something will work out in the end. That’s why it’s one of my favorite love stories in general - it’s not too sappy, doesn’t overplay the romance aspect, and shows the ups and downs of love - romantic and platonic. Pearl and Marianne’s voices compliment each other perfectly, and the fact that their relationship is sort of similar to the characters on the show makes it feel more real. It was such an emotional performance, there wasn’t a dry eye in the room.

The medley from Life Changes Everything was unexpected, but I enjoyed it a lot. Life Changes Everything’s a good play but it’s kind of a downer. The music for that show is kind of all over the place to be honest. There’s strong numbers like the very well known title track and Sundown We Leave, another popular one. But for the most part, the majority of the musical numbers were kind of forgettable, which is a shame because there were a lot of high points. The main problem I think has to do with the story as it has a huge cast and the subjects it tackles - a case of biting off more than they can chew - so everything gets sort of muddled. Still, it’s a good show worth watching when it’s on. 

What I loved about the medley is that it incorporates the best parts of the musical numbers. Like for example, the chorus of Torn Letters. That song could’ve been one of my top favorites from the show but it gets muddled down by the verses, which I found long winded and boring. And the Phil/Cassia segment of Ain’t That Wrong where most of the song was just meh except that part. And tying everything together with the title track was genius! 

For solos Pearl sang Dance, Dance, Dance (Come Along) from Across the Wide Rivers. I’ve never seen Across the Wide Rivers as it’s a fairly new show but after hearing Pearl sing that number, I’m definitely intrigued! She says that the show will be premiering on Starlight Theatre in Peace Coast Island this fall so that’s something to look forward to! 

Marianne sang Ballad of a Ballerina from Music Everywhere - Anytime! and it’s the absolute best rendition I’ve heard of that song. Her haunting, ethereal voice is just perfect and she’d make a great Belladonna. I asked her if she considered auditioning for the role if Music Everywhere - Anytime! decided to return to Broadway or Starlight and she said maybe.

To close the show, Pearl gave us exclusive performances of two new singles she co-wrote and produced for Marianne and Fran that will be released this summer. 

First up is Running and Wondering, written by Pearl, Fran, and Mike. Pearl is pretty much acting as manager for her cousin as he’s making the leap to start a new career as a stage actor and artist. I’ve been seeing a lot of Mike and Fran ever since they joined Pearl and Marianne on their move to Peace Coast Island and their chemistry is just wow. I think Mike’s near death experience last year must’ve really put things into perspective for the two as Pearl said it took forever for the guys to figure things out. Honestly I was surprised that they haven’t been a couple for that long since every time I saw them in the past they were always together and openly affectionate towards each other.

I’m really happy that things are looking up for the guys right now. I can see it in Mike’s vlogs too, especially how he gets excited easily about things like being in the recording studio and showing off his new office. Fran’s still adjusting to performing in front of a crowd but he’s definitely gotten more confident thanks to Pearl. Running and Wondering definitely left us wanting more and I’m looking forward to his debut album when it comes out next year. With Pearl taking the lead, her cousin’s in good hands!

To close the show, we have Marianne perform her latest single, written by Pearl, called All I Gave You is Gone. It’s been over three years since Marianne released any new music so I was excited to hear this! A powerful performance as she sang her heart out, pouring emotion into every word. I’m pretty sure Pearl’s inspiration for this song had to do with Marianne’s ex, Selene. It’s a heartbreaking song, one with a vulnerable and poignant message. Marianne isn’t the most open person but when she sings, she really has a way of conveying so much through music.

[pwrestlingxpress]

Reddit Article about Golden☆Lovers History

Found this interesting column by WrestlingisJay on reddit.com about Kenny Omega and Kota Ibushi’s history in which I felt compelled to share it here on the Pro Wrestling Express.  You can click here for comments on the article and if you a member, log in and make your own comment.  Anyway here is what WrestlingisJay had to say about the reunion of the Golden☆Lovers that occurred back on January 28, 2018 at New Beginning in Sapporo Night Two and remember, I take no credit in this.  The credit for this should go to WrestlingisJay on reddit:

Hello, I’m u/WrestlingIsJay! You may remember me from such walls of text as this post or this other post. Today I’m here to invite you to come with me on a journey… a Golden☆ journey! A lot of stuff has already been written on the greatest relationship in pro-wrestling, and I always make sure to send people looking for a quick fill-in to this excellent post from a while ago or this more recent Uproxx article, but what I really wanted to do was to create a place to also include all those little details and bump on the road that obviously often get overlooked for the sake of brevity in those kind of summaries but that I really think make up the soul of this amazing story. All the Small Things, basically (thank you Tom DeLonge). I’ll try my best and I hope people will come up with all those other things I’ll probably leave out in the comments, so to make this more and more complete. Let’s start, shall we?

2008-2012: Beginnings.

I guess pretty much everyone knows how it started at this point, so I’ll be quick: Kenny has a unique vision for pro-wrestling that sets him apart from most of his north American colleagues, finds a clip of Kota Ibushi having DDT-style matches on YouTube and immediately thinks that this guy from across the Ocean must thinks the same way he does, so he sets on a quest to face him no matter the odds. He films himself doing a crazy DDT-styled “Anywhere match to appease to them, cuts a promo on Ibushi and manages to get himself to become the one and only gaijin in DDT for quite a while. They have the match (DDT Universe link, it’s 9$ a month, first month is free), and it’s a rough sketch of everything Omega and Ibushi have in store for pro-wrestling: a perfect blend in of comedy, crazy high spots, unique storytelling and unparalleled athleticism. It ends up winning a MOTY trophy earning Omega his stay… the rest, as they say, is history.

I think one of the best “Small Things” about this is the way Kenny Omega retells it during his appearance on “Japanophiles”, a TV Show about foreigners living in Japan which dedicated an episode to him, in a somewhat-shoot interview he did while he was still in DDT (timestamped link) which really drives home how much of real life anime characters these two are: “I felt that my destiny, if there is such a thing, was to come out here and fight Kota Ibushi”.

He will later say that his first match with Ibushi was also the first time he cried after a match during a 2016 NJPW interview but let’s not get too ahead of ourselves here. They have the match and clearly immediately develop a strong friendship as early pictures and statements from Michael Nakazawa, a huge friend of both and basically the third unofficial member of their team (kind like a proto-Elite), attests. (shout out to @archaicbro by the way, who put together a most useful Twitter-sized recollections of their story). They join forces instead of facing each other again, as DDT originally had planned, and hit one homerun after the other: they even get a MOTY in New Japan in 2010 which, as Kenny recalled in the Edge & Christian Podcast, it’s something Jr. Tag Teams just “don’t do”. Their shenanigans both inside and outside the ring really depicts one hell of a great time for both of them, and Japan loves them as well.

Their peak probably comes in 2012 when, as many will already know, they main evented DDT’s most important show of the year, Peter Pan at the Nippon Budokan arena in Tokyo. There the “sketch” that was their first match together gets refined and they put up one of the greatest matches of all time (here’s another DDT Universe link) battling over the KO-D Openweight Championship, DDT’s top singles belt. One very interesting note: Kota Ibushi wins the match after having kicked out at 2 from a One Winged Angel in the center of the ring, the only wrestler to ever having done so without interferences or rope breaks.

At this point, life couldn’t be better for them, as Kenny himself will say to Meltzer in an interview in 2017 that he felt his career had peaked at that point, having gone all out at such a legendary arena, within a company he helped grow, with Ibushi. Despite that though, unfortunately trouble was brewing not so far on the horizon…

2014-2017: Paradise Lost?

2014 comes, and with it the biggest turn in Kenny Omega’s career arrives. He signs a contract of exclusivity with New Japan Pro-Wrestling and decides to stay a Jr. Heavyweight for the time being: with Kota already a Heavyweight in New Japan, this effectively breaks up their team and sends them separate ways. After an emotional (and pretty crazy) farewell match (rutube link as I couldn’t seem to find the match on DDT Universe), Kenny’s conference with NJPW is unusually cold when he talks about the fact that he will stay separated from Ibushi going forward: whether something happened behind the scenes or Kenny’s just preparing to become the evil Cleaner, we may never know, but the Golden☆Lovers are no more.

This is where turbulent times start for Kenny, and this is where the “Small Things” really shine. You’d be hard pressed to find an interview without a shout out, a quick hint or a monologue of the Cleaner towards his former tag partner, and what it all adds up to is a compelling depiction of someone clearly dealing with a lot of unwanted thoughts in his head. Kenny’s constant wandering with his mind towards Ibushi is so powerful, so humane that the lines between reality and kayfabe gets very blurred, and it’s astounding.

The first big crack in the “wall” Kenny put up to forget about his past obviously comes at Invasion Attack 2015, when in a wonderfully put-together segment wanted by all three involved, Kenny finds himself between a rock and a hard place when he has to help AJ Styles retain his IWGP Heavyweight Championship against Kota. He doesn’t go all out in helping his Bullet Club brother, but the split second hesitation he causes in Ibushi is enough for AJ to turn his Phoenix Splash into a Styles Clash for the 1, 2, 3. After the match, Omega is definitely not thrilled about the outcome and his part in it. Some say this even started (in kayfabe) his path towards the inevitable takeover of the Bullet Club against AJ Styles: even when they just graze each other, Ibushi always has a huge impact on Kenny’s psyche and career.

They will stay apart for all of 2016, the true breakthrough year for the Cleaner, and this seem to weigh in deeply on Omega. After winning the G1, he states to having finally surpassed Kota, but he’s also clearly hurt at his disappearance at such a pivotal moment for him. He will start antagonizing him more and more, building up basically a feud with Kota’s shadow that will accompany him throughout all of 2016 and shape his interactions with him when Ibushi will finally return to New Japan later (as himself, although Kenny didn’t refrain from throwing shade at him with a couple of ironic comments on Twitter about Tiger Mask W’s performances being “a little green”). One important moment comes almost six months later, in March 2017, when TV Asahi hosts a ceremony to make a list of the greatest wrestlers in history and Kenny Omega, ranking #15, ends up standing in front of Kota who is amongst the judges. The look Kenny gives Kota here speaks for himself, but he also doubles down on Twitter, truly opening up for the first time in a while.

Keep in mind what he says here, as it’s one of the greatest details of this whole thing: Kenny clearly sees standing in the ring with Kota as the only way to truly be able to communicate with him after all this time. He doesn’t know how to tell him all the things he would like to, and he doesn’t even know if he would be able to, but he knows damn well how to wrestle, so that’s how he wants to speak to Ibushi – by fighting him. He will say this again later, and he will ultimately state as much after the reunion. But once again, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

WrestleKingdom 11 comes and goes, and Omega becomes the hottest topic in the world of pro-wrestling, but he doesn’t forget Ibushi, not even after his war with Okada: in an exclusive interview he states that the WK11 main event brought him to a ”magical [state of mind] where wrestling didn’t hurt”, something he only felt one other time in his career, ”when I was still in a tag team with… an old friend of mine”. Whatever happens, Ibushi is still there, always lingering in the back of his mind. This becomes evident when the rumors get more and more loud until yes, it’s revealed that Kota Ibushi will indeed be a part of the 27th edition of the G1. Kenny doesn’t hide his intentions: he will take part in the G1 because he wants, because he needs to be in the ring with Kota again. Maybe it’s because he really wants to prove himself he can surpass him, but mostly it’s because he’s aching for that chance to talk to his old friend in the only language he would be able to – that of professional wrestling.

Countless “Small Things” are littered among the interviews, tweets and shoot Q&As Kenny did around this time, but two of the most intense statements can be easily found on New Japan World. The first happens during a Skype interview Kenny did to promote the G1 USA Special. At the 22:53 mark, he gets asked about Kota being in the G1 and cuts a short, but awesome promo. I’ll transcribe here some of the best lines for those unwilling to click the link, as I believe it’s one of Omega’s best mic work I’ve ever heard:

“Look… Ibushi. Yeah, I’ll say his name, Ibushi. It’s been a while. I was waiting… I wondered what it would take. […] after I’ve won the G1 I thought for sure, you would come back to me. After I had the greatest match of all time at the Tokyo Dome, something you could never do, I thought you’d come back. What makes you come back now? What makes you want to challenge the G1 after everything we’ve been through. Is it something that you’re doing for yourself? Are you trying to challenge me? […] Questions that are running through my head. You know… I could always call you, I could always contact you, but I wouldn’t know what to say. […] Let’s do the talking in the ring. I want you to promise me… be a man of your word, promise me Ibushi, that you would make it to the finals. It’s the only way we can meet. Show me how much you’ve grown, and I’ll show you how much I’ve grown. You’re not the man anymore… I’m so much more than what you are now, and I can’t wait to show you the difference in that power.”

This is enough to make the situation look even more like a real-life anime rivalry than already is, but Omega wasn’t finished yet. During his appearance at a NJPW World’s one-hour show called Wonderland (it’s on their streaming service but the clip itself is free, so you can watch it without having to pay the monthly fee), where he was asked to go through all his adversaries for the upcoming G1, he stated multiple times that the only reason he was joining the tournament was Ibushi. In the end, around the 55:00 mark, he addresses Kota directly and cuts another gem:

”A-Block? There’s only one… there’s only one. […] There’s only one I want to beat, there’s only one I want to meet. And It’s you Ibushi. It’s a different world, and I saw your training video. You can’t just wake up one day and say, ‘I’m going to win the G1’! It isn’t that easy… but Ibushi, somewhere in there, I know you have it in you. [If it’s] really is your time, take it. Because I never stopped after you left. After you left me all alone, to fend for myself, I never stopped training, I never stopped sacrificing, I never stopped feeling the pain. I never ran away like you did. If you can make it to the final, that’s where I’ll be waiting. And then finally I’ll make you feel the pain Ibushi, and I’ll show you through my actions everything that I felt while you were away, after you threw me away.”

After these two pieces of work, hype was through the roof, but alas, Ibushi didn’t manage to reach the G1 Finals, and the Golden☆Lovers seemed destined to stay apart… for a little longer.

2017-2018: Reunion.

The finals arrived, and after them, the unexpected happened: a beaten Omega clad in gear that was an homage to his former partner met Ibushi backstage, even if the encounter lasted only for a few, seemingly misunderstood, seconds. A failed connection if there ever was one, for sure. But despise that, things kept moving and Kenny kept going there: in an interview with Kevin Kelly (another free one!) months later, when he was about to defend his IWGP US title against Juice Robinson, he reiterated that his only regret for the G1 Finals was the opponent. He wanted Ibushi, he needed to meet him in that ring, and that need was still there, clear as day. A need that would have been answered months later, in a truly unexpected fashion, amidst the snows of Sapporo.

…and here we are, at last, at the final reunion. At that single shocking moment, ten years in the making. With some unrequested help from the villainous Cody, Omega and Ibushi are standing face to face in the same ring again. It’s nothing like Kenny had thought, there are no wrestling moves involved, no fighting. It’s just his old friend, lending a helping hand, and for him it’s his whole world coming down hard. There’s no more feigning indignation, or hatred, or masquerading the pain of having been left alone. It’s all thrown in his face and the Cleaner’s metallic exterior gets shredded by the events. Underneath, the “real” Kenny resurfaces and after some hesitation, he gives in to a liberating hug. The Golden☆Lovers are back.

Again, click on the link (or here if confused) above to comment on this very interesting article from reddit by WrestlingisJay. 

[adriennescomingbacktolife]

Stepping off the Pedestal

Written with Amp and Zen!!

While he knew, eventually, the listlessness and hollow feeling in him would pass with time, Silvio couldn’t help but feel Kohaku’s absence. He’d see something and want to share it or think of some new joke to laugh about, but when he went to look for his partner, there was no one there. It reminded Silvio of the feeling you got when you thought there was one more step on a staircase than there actually was, or reaching for something but finding it just beyond your grasp. Sitting behind his front desk, he sketched an abstract design made with brilliant shades of vermillion; that special color momiji turned in the Fall. The color of the Kyoto he longed for.    He was glad of Adrienne and Axton coming over. Even though he was certain difficult topics were going to be broached, it was better than being alone right now.    The bell over the door gave a ring as Axton shouldered his way inside; he was dressed down and plain in a t-shirt, jeans and loose flannel top left unbuttoned, the sleeves cuffed to his elbows. He shot Silvio a thin smile as he approached the desk, hands in his pockets. He seemed a lot more subdued than usual.    “Hey… How’s it goin’, Sil? Ms. Levi’s not here yet, I take it?”    Silvio looked up at the sound of the bell chiming and smiled at his visitor.    “Hey, Ax. I’m...hanging in there, I guess. I take it you saw the video segment I did for Chaos?”    “Yeah.”    Axton leaned on the desk, folding his arms underneath him and allowing his shoulders to lift toward his ears. It was hard to maintain the smile, so he stopped bothering.    “I didn’t mean to mess things up when I came up here. I just wanted to be part of it. Guess I got my wish in some monkey’s paw shitty way.”    “It was the confluence of a lot of things,” Silvio assured him. “But...I think it’s for the best right now; for all of us.” He gave a wan smile. “Medicine can be bitter, I guess. But it’s not forever, at least.”    “Like I said. Monkey’s paw shit.”    Sighing, Axton turned himself around, resting his elbows on the desk so he was facing the door. He watched the cars roll by past Silvio’s window displays. Everything about this place radiated his personality; it had been easy to find, when he’d been searching blind for it.    “Sil… I’m not… feeling great about all of this. I’m sure you figured that out. I came up here to play a game, for shits and giggles, you know? And it looks like I accidentally kicked a wasp nest on my way in. Now everybody’s stung and screaming and I’m just standing here like the dude with the pizzas in that one scene from Community… everybody yellin’ at me for kicking the nest I didn’t see.”    “I know,” Silvio said, getting to his feet. “And I’m sorry for everything I did...or didn’t do... that contributed to that.” He hesitated before reaching out and touching the tense line of Axton’s shoulder. “But I think talking with Adrienne will help set the record straight.” There was a little snort and he shook his head. “You all had a helluva match, by the way. Congrats on your first win; that fight wasn’t easy.”    “Thanks.”    Axton glanced over said tense shoulder to look at him, forcing another thin smile. “I tried to play it clean… tried to prove something, I guess. But it doesn’t matter. Some people don’t wanna change their minds about you, or believe you no matter what you say. I just decided to lean into it. Let people think what they wanna think. I tried to get away from that kinda thing in LA but I guess it just followed me here.”    He sighed and shook his head, loosely crossing his arms.    “Anyway, sorry for bitching. Thanks for hosting this thing. I don’t want Ms. Levi to think I’m that kind of person. Most people I don’t care if they wanna make me their bad guy, but she’s different.”    “She admires you,” Silvio said. “And I do, too. I never got to see this side of your passions.” He started around the counter to come to Axton’s side. “It suits you.”    He wasn’t exaggerating about that, either. Axton took to all of this naturally. Some people were just like that, though. The light inside of them just couldn’t help but spill over no matter what they did. Silvio knew Axton was catching heat now, but he also knew time would change things. You couldn’t ignore the way Ax shone, and people would take him lightly at their own peril.    Axton’s shoulders softened a bit, looking at Silvio sidelong. The tattoo artist had always had a way of talking to him that just made him want to fall apart in the best way. Tell him anything. Do anything to hear him say those sweet things… that much hadn’t changed.    “It’s fun. Really, it’s fun. I love this sport, I have since high school. I guess I just don’t… I don’t take it as seriously as some people. But I don’t take anything that seriously, y’know?”    Grinning, Silvio gave him a little nudge with his elbow. “Oh, I know, Mr. Cool Patrol,” he teased. “And I don’t think that’s a bad thing, necessarily. I just get the feeling not everyone will get the joke sometimes. Still, I really mean it. You look good out there. It won’t take long for people to respond to it. But that’s the way you are; you make things fall into your orbit without even trying.”    The bell over the front door sounded once more. To anyone that knew her, it was just Ade. But with her knock off Jackie O sunglasses, her grey and purple Baltimore Ravens hoodie drawn over her head, black leggings, and sneakers - she looked far from anonymous. Adrienne remembered when Axton had asked for the address of Sil’s shop. She didn’t know and after a cursory glance, she wished she had visited earlier. Tucking her phone back into the oversized pocket of her sweater, she looked forward and saw that like aways, she was late. Alas, the perks of public transportations. Axton and Silvio were already there conversing amongst themselves.    “Hi,” she said quietly. “Sorry for interrupting.”    Mouth still open about to reply to Silvio, Axton’s attention shifted forward, and he immediately felt his gut twist uncomfortably. He wasn’t looking forward to this--it was too open, too personal, too raw. He’d never been good at this sort of thing… but he knew a good person when he met them, and the last thing he wanted to do was give Adrienne the impression he didn’t deserve all the time and energy she’d already given him. Even if it was… parasocial time and energy.    “Hey.” Once again he attempted a smile, shoving both hands into his pockets to shrink his presence in the room. “You’re not, don’t worry about it. I was prob’ly about to say something dumb anyhow.”    Silvio smiled at Adrienne, gesturing her in. “I’m glad you could make it. Did you want a soda or anything? I’m kind of a sugar fiend, but you’re welcome to any snacks I got, too.”    “Water’s fine.” she said with a curt smile. Adrienne stepped into the room. The shades came off and she did her best to conceal that she hadn’t slept well in the last few days. With no one to talk to lately in that apartment, she’d unintentionally invited over less savory elements. She turned to Axton, doing her best to keep her fandom in check, “So I know this is weird considering this actually is not the first time we’ve met - but I’m Adrienne.”    It took Axton a second to shut off the part of his mind that was busy dwelling on what he already knew--that she was a fan, her name, that they’d squared off in the ring before, even. That exchanges had been made that had upset them both. This was supposed to be about clearing the air… making a fresh start. Swallowing the tight feeling in his throat, he extended a hand, tattoo peeking out from under a leather strap bracelet, his palms still a bit rough from the ring ropes.    “Axton,” he said, clearing his throat. “Just ‘Ax’ is fine, everybody calls me that... You gave Sebastian and I a hell of a fight.”    Adrienne nodded politely. She had already given her thoughts on her efforts. They were unsatisfactory to her standards. Sometimes it felt as if she was on the outside looking in as The Dragon Lady battled it out with her latest grudges. With that compounded with Kohaku’s decision and other incidents, her reaction could be considered insincere.    “Thanks, Ax.”    There wasn’t much else to say about that. This wasn’t a conversation to talk shop. Or as much as she wanted to, how much Axton’s music meant to her. Those sort of things could be done over Twitter.    “Is there somewhere where we can all sit down?” she asked Silvio with a bit of hesitation.    Silvio nodded as he rounded the corner of his front counter, striding over to a mini fridge in a little alcove behind the work area, and getting out a bottle of water for Adrienne. “We can do this in the waiting area, but I also have my, uh...work table,” he said, nodding toward the part of the studio where he typically filmed his tarot readings.    “I’ll take a root beer if you got any.”    As curious as he was to see the space where Silvio shot his legendarily creepy-accurate promos, the couch in the waiting area looked a lot more comfortable. The young musician made his way over to it, pulling his jacket off over his head and slumping into a seat with a sigh that belonged to a man a couple decades his senior.    Honestly, he was sort of relieved Adrienne didn’t seem to want to talk about the match. He didn’t really want to think about it.    “I’m supposed to be watching my sugar intake but fuck it.”    Adrienne took the bottle of water and thanked Silvio, “Here’s fine.” And she sat down on the end of the couch closest to the door. Taking a deep breath, she concluded that since she wanted this meeting, that she should just come out and say what needed to be said.    “I guess it would be safe to say that none of us have had a good time recently. I’m sorry if I made you two mad.”    “Mad?” Silvio echoed in surprise, offering a root beer to Axton. “Adrienne, I’m not mad; I never was. But I get how all of this has been...confusing. Frustrating, probably.” He glanced between Axton and Adrienne before sinking into a seat across from her. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you had some questions.”    “Yeah…” Axton was rubbing his face with one hand, palm pressing into his eye as he scratched at his hairline. He lowered it to open the root beer with a pop and hiss. “Not mad about anything. I was pretty offended when you sort of implied I would, you know, ever hit one of my partners with a serious... intent, I guess. I figured that even peripherally you knew me better than that, or would have a bit more faith in me.” He sighed, looking down at his knees. “But after what you said on Twits about your history in the ring, I get it. You’ve been through some stuff and that kind of experience sort of overshadows everything, especially since you aren’t exactly used to my bullshit the way Sil is.”    Adrienne listened to them both, squeezing the water bottle reflexively. She didn’t want to get into rehashing the event. She had it done enough and she figured that they had, too. Looking forward at nothing in particular, she spoke just audibly enough for them to hear. “I didn’t want all of that to matter anymore. Wanted to be above it all but I just can’t seem to shake it.”    She knew how that could possibly sound naive. She knew little what these two had been through. Silvio seemed to possess some skills that implied that he’d had it tough, too. And Axton’s art seemed so raw and personal that Adrienne thought that she knew him. Struggling with her own troubles, all she could see were mirrors into her past everywhere she went. Like no one else existed. Sometimes she felt selfish.    “I try my best to smile through all of this. Scared of what happens when I don’t.”    “Adrienne,” Silvio murmured, “you don’t have to be on anybody’s schedule but your own. Nobody gets to dictate how long something impacts them or anyone else. You’re not weak or pathetic if something that wounded you in the past still hurts or isn’t completely healed. And if you don’t feel like smiling, then don’t. You don’t owe the world a more palatable lie because it doesn’t like the taste of the truth.”    With his hands folded over his mouth, the drink set down on the low table, Axton nodded. He looked a lot more serious and sombre than he usually did. Meadowgreen eyes flickered upward to Adrienne and his tone was soft when he spoke.    “Second that… I know it sucks to think about but, that stuff doesn’t just go away, and nobody expects it to. Anyone who does is a dick with no empathy who doesn’t deserve you and who’s never been there.”    He hesitated, drawing a breath; he let it out on a tremulous laugh.    “You don’t have to smile through it. Shit, you can even write three albums about it, and nobody ever has to know all the rage and melancholy and loneliness is coming from a real place. You just have to get it out somehow. You’ll find people who are willing to stick by you even when these things make you hard to be around sometimes.”    The musician shot a sidelong look at Silvio, the corner of his mouth pulling up a bit.    “And maybe you’ll fly across the country to be near those people… or maybe you’ll just move from Clearwater to Baltimore.”    Uncapping the water finally, she took a swig. She smiled back nervously at Axton. “Yeah. There was nothing left for me back there.” It clicked for Adrienne there. Most of if not all of that ugly first impression washed away. She didn’t want to lecture. She didn’t want to implicate anyone. Pausing, she considered her words here. “I can’t speak for anyone else. But, I’d like to start over. I know you aren’t too fond of Baltimore. I kind of miss the beaches myself. But there’s a lot of special people here.”    Silvio smiled at them. “I’d like nothing better. I think we’d all be a lot happier if we give this another try now.” He’d hated how all of this had overshadowed the person Axton was. All they’d seen was him planting Silvio’s face into the mat. They hadn’t understood everything that had come before it or why Axton had chosen to try and resolve things the way he did. “If you’re okay with that, too, Ax.”    “I can’t promise I won’t stop dunking on Baltimore. That’s part of my brand now, basically,” Axton noted, drumming his fingers on the can that had found its way back into his hands. He cocked his head, looking between them. Truth was, they’d both given him a lot, in different ways--different kinds of support and trust at different times when he needed it. He’d never done well alone.    “But you’re right, there’s some special people here… the kind who are willing to give a dumbass punk a second chance. I know I can be a lot sometimes, but… it’d be cool to be part of all this. It’d be cool to get away from LA, just be a dude for a year, you know? Just a guy, throwin’ another guy for the glory, or maybe getting suplexed by a guy, then hanging out with a girl and a guy and maybe some other guys… I’m doing the thing again, huh.”    “It’s okay, I like it.” She replied. This was the sort of personality she had seen in public. She felt better that it was really how he seemed when in better spirits. Her gaze wandered to Silvio’s fantastic shop, all of the splendid displays of art on showcase. “I’m sorry I didn’t visit earlier. I’m still learning the city and it's either buses or Uber for me.”    “Ah, that’s alright!” Silvio said with a smile. “Visiting a tattoo parlor when you’re not going to get a tattoo isn’t the most exciting thing in the world. I’m glad you swung by, though. My apartment’s actually just upstairs.”    And currently houses one gigantic man who escaped from horrific experimentation that left his mind splintered and body broken and yeah he also stepped on your neck at one point and--    “It’s a total mess right now, but maybe you can come up sometime later. I got tea, books, and sweets for days.”    “I bet it looks exactly the same as your place in LA,” Axton teased.    Silvio took a moment to look affronted, batting his eyelashes and placing a hand on his chest. “Excuse me, is that a slight about my interior design sensibilities, Mr. Gunn?”    “Bitch it might be.”    “Slings and arrows! You wound me,” Silvio gasped as he wilted over his chair.    Watching the two banter, Adrienne felt immensely better. Still a little exhausted from that previous endeavor. With people, she didn’t think about that much. About him.    “I’ve got a few other commitments today.” She said. Standing up, she took back out her shades and put them on. “But I wanted to talk to you guys first. I’ll be the first to admit, Ax. I still don’t get why things happened the way they did.” Looking at him directly, she continued, “But it’s okay. I get it enough to understand where you’re coming from. I don’t like being alone either. Maybe while you’re here, we can all make sure it won’t be a thing anymore.”    “That'd be cool,” Ax replied, his shoulders relaxing. He managed a bit of a smile without straining. “Thanks for hearing me out… it's more than I could've asked. Also, forgot to say so earlier--the shades are dope.”

[vmheadquarters]

What Goes Around... (Part 27a)

This is PART 27a of a story that is being told in segments by twenty-seven different authors, campfire-style. Each author will take over the story with no prior planning and then pass it on after putting their own spin on it! Expect the unexpected! :)  You can check our vmhq campfire tale tag for all of the previous installments or read the story as it develops on AO3. — Part 27a is written by @cheshirecatstrut 

[Part 26]

PART I: REUNION

VERONICA

“Oh SHIT,” Veronica whispers, meeting her father’s gaze. “Wei’s in on it with them!”

She takes off speed-walking towards the lying SOB, who’s wandered away from the group—to do what, she’s not sure, maybe berate him until he cries, because how DARE HE? But Dad grabs her arm.

“You can’t,” he warns. “Wei doesn’t know we know, and right now, that’s our only advantage. He’s the one who called these cops—we might be witnessing a cover-up right now, not an investigation.”

She reverses direction, but he doesn’t let go…instead, he draws her away from the crowd. “Veronica, you can’t tell Logan either, he’s still set to transmit. If ALL the background chatter in Wei’s earpiece falls silent, the guy’s bound to get suspicious.”

V nods reluctant agreement. Logan’s currently holding Lydia so Norris can cuff her, while discussing antidote-formulating techniques with Mac (using analogies to Powerpuff Girls). “So when Wei mentioned he killed a cop…do you think he meant LEO?”

“Honey…” Keith sighs. “I’m sorry, but we have to assume that’s true. This whole situation is much graver than we realized. We can’t trust the information Wei gave us, except the part about a corrupt Neptune PD, and we have very little other data. We need the help of more reliable authorities.”

“And what would motivate reliable authorities to work with us?” She frowns as a Neptune deputy wanders past. “The enemy’s taken charge already--I’m sure they’re erasing leads as we speak.”

“Can you trust me?” Keith gives her the patient look she dreads, unconsciously checking his shoulder holster.

She crosses her arms. “I already hate this plan.”

Gently, he untucks her hand, places the remote in it, and curls her fingers around. “I’m armed, I’ve got my wits about me, and we still have the element of surprise. Plus, Norris Clayton hasn’t left; and whatever his faults, aggression-wise, I’m sure that young man isn’t crooked. He’ll help me put Wei, Jeff and Lydia in jail where they belong. You and Logan should take the antidote back to Wallace, then get him to a hospital.”

He’s right, Veronica knows he’s right, but that doesn’t make leaving him behind easier. Flinging her arms around his neck, she murmurs, “I love you, Dad.”

“I love you too, honey,” he says. “And don’t worry so much. No lowlife’s managed to best me yet.”

“Not for lack of trying,” she reminds him, but manages a smile. “I’m a grown-up now, though, and a full Mars Investigations partner. Tough moments like this one come with the territory.”

She kisses him on the cheek, turns, and strides confidently to Dick’s SUV. Makes a point of not looking back.

KEITH

“When COULDN’T you handle the tough moments?” Keith murmurs, watching her retreat. “With aplomb, even?”

He pats his gun once more for luck as Logan’s ‘What’s wrong?’ is abruptly silenced—darling daughter’s no doubt filling her boyfriend in via Morse code. A moment later, Dick Casablancas’ SUV squeals away… en route, full speed, to save another underdog.

Keith’s never completely trusted the Echolls kid, despite his Navy-facilitated turnaround; he’s got a better soul than Aaron, but fronts with the same practiced smarm. Logan would undoubtedly take a bullet for Veronica, though…and tonight, that’s company Keith wants his only child keeping.

A quick look around verifies Breitski’s across the lot, discussing ways to keep this fiasco out of the news with an apparently-crooked deputy. He’s got his back turned, so Keith pops the hood on his Camry, saws the alternator belt almost in half with a pocket knife, and quickly plants a tracker. Then he closes up, and goes hunting for Norris Clayton.

The over-competent former juvenile delinquent is easy to spot. Not only does he tower above everybody else on scene, he’s the only guy doing his job. A morose Jeff and a stridently-yelling Lydia are cuffed in the back of his cruiser already, and he’s doggedly filling out paperwork.

“Got a minute?” Keith asks, gesturing with his head to beckon Clayton away from the perps. To his credit, the kid doesn’t hesitate. Just tosses his clipboard into the driver’s seat and obligingly saunters closer.

“Problem?” Norris asks, with typical bluntness. Faintly, Keith smiles.

“You could say that,” he agrees, rueful. “Breitski’s dirty on a Federal scale, and so are most of your co-workers. He plans to run off with your bickering perps under pretense of booking them, and you’re the only person I can trust to help stop him.”

“What do you need me to do?” Clayton asks, watching as Breitski pats his pal on the shoulder and approaches.

“Just follow my lead,” Keith says. “And make whatever face is your version of a bland smile.”

“Mr. Mars,” Breitski calls, adjusting his fedora as he approaches—Keith should have known he was a jerk from the start, wearing a hat like that. “I need a favor. Can I commandeer your car to take the Van Vliets to San Diego? The Sheriff’s too busy to arrange transport, and you live close enough to call a cab.”

“Sure,” Keith says easily, handing over his keys. “Anything to help the course of justice run smooth. Just have someone drop it at Mars Investigations when you’re done?”

“You bet!” Wei winks and grins—Keith half-expects a tongue-click and finger-gun. “And please, convey my thanks to your daughter, will you? This case has been a bear. Without her assistance, no way could we have caught these masterminds.”

“Veronica’s impressive,” Keith agrees, allowing his hand to be shaken. “I’m biased, of course, but many impartial sources agree.”

Wei transfers the suddenly-subdued Jeff and Lydia into the Camry, takes off with a finger-to-hat-brim salute. Keith waits until they’re out of sight, listening with a faint head shake to Lydia shrieking because Liam Fitpatrick tried to murder her. Wei tells her Liam’s been handled, and she should be glad she’s not in jail.

Then Keith pulls a bug tracker from the pocket of his overcoat, checks to make sure it’s working, and gestures for Norris to join him in the patrol car.

“Follow that dot.” He suctions the tracker to the dash and points at the interactive map. “And stay far enough back Breitski can’t spot us—he may be unethical, but he’s no fool.”

“You want to tell me what, exactly, this Federal conspiracy is?” Norris asks, once they’re driving through the dark a half mile behind Wei. “Or wait, let me guess…it involves that new drug making people pink and violent. It’s been pouring out of Orange County lately. A minor Fitzpatrick died all popsicle-colored in lockup, about two weeks ago. I was warned off asking for details.”

“Good instincts,” Keith says. “Apparently this substance makes people strong and fast, but it’s also highly toxic—the one victim I’ve seen is in bad shape. Brietski’s wearing an earbud he’s not aware is transmitting, and it sounds like a coup against Liam Fitzpatrick, the mastermind, is in progress.”

Clayton nods, impassive as always--Keith frowns and focuses on eavesdropping as Wei answers a call. “Yes, I hear you, the alarm’s going off soon. Keep your fucking pants on. I’ll head right over, as soon as Jeff and Lydia are squared away.”

“Are you sure Fitzpatrick’s in charge?” Clayton asks, interrupting Keith’s mental run-down of possible alarms. “Because I realize back in the Van Lowe days, he had some sway with the Neptune PD. But the Irish mob is on the downswing lately, influence-wise. And I got the impression, based on the vehemence with which I was chased off, that someone rich and powerful is pulling strings.”

Keith holds up a hand for silence as Wei’s earbud picks up the sound of an engine, coughing and seizing. Winces, hoping his Camry doesn’t throw a rod. “Something’s wrong,” Wei says, accompanied by a grinding noise as the car stalls. “Shit, shit, shit, I need to hitch a ride.”

“Who in their right mind would pick us up?” Lydia screeches, her voice making Keith wince. “We’re both handcuffed, I’m covered in gasoline, and my shoes exploded along with the warehouse!”

“Good point,” Wei says, and follows up calmly with two gunshots. Keith gasps and grabs the dash for balance. “Guess you’ve both outlived your usefulness. Consider that your pension.”

“I think Breitski just shot Jeff and Lydia,” Keith tells Clayton, who kicks on the sirens and floors it in response. He reports a possible homicide over the radio as they surge full speed up a hill.

Just past the crest, their headlights splash over a male figure, braced in a two-handed gun stance mid-road, sidearm aimed. Clayton--spurred, maybe by the simmering aggression that once earned him a stint in juvie--speeds up in response, and Keith braces grimly for impact. But Breitski just shoots, creating a spiderweb of cracks in the bulletproof windshield, then JUMPS, higher than the most sought-after NBA draft-pick could manage. And lands on the hood of the cruiser with a thud.

Norris goes into a skid, tagging the Camry’s bumper as he slides by; his muttered “Holy…” is interrupted by a fist smashing through the windshield. Bloody fingers grab the jagged edge, yanking the whole rectangle loose, and the half-shattered sheet flies off into the night. Breitski reaches back in, catching Clayton by the shirtfront while he fumbles for his gun, and hauls him out, too.

Keith lunges for the wheel, manages to turn the car and stomp the brakes before they crash into roadside woods. Watches, horrified, as Breitski hurls Clayton against a pine trunk. Keith’s only ally slides bonelessly to the ground, and stays there, prone.

He opens the door to run for it, but is lifted out before he can…hoisted full-arm’s-length by Breitski, who’s standing on the hood. He dangles, held by the lapels of his coat; the blue-and-red emergency lights strobe Breitski’s face as he smiles.

“Not all the super soldiers are pink and dumb, I’m afraid,” he says, and gives Keith an admonishing shake. “The secondary formula’s for a specific purpose--it’s designed to be IN-effective, and eventually terminal. Now, I need you to nap while I jury-rig your alternator belt—a battered cop car won’t blend on the road to the winery. Say goodnight, Gracie.”

His other fist swings up, fast as regrets, catching Keith square in the temple. Shortly after which, everything goes black.

STORYLINE 2: WEEVIL WALLACE

Weevil loves his bike a lot—it’s a guilty, rebel-youth pleasure he thought he’d never enjoy again--but road-trip monotony is a bitch.

He’s been driving through the dark for half an hour; Fennel’s groans have subsided ominously into silence, broken only by the engine’s growl. Today’s already featured ten hours under car hoods, a fight about visitation with his soon-to-be-ex, and of course, the usual Mars nonsense. He’d pay a grand for one of those sugar-bomb Starbucks coffees right now, some pumpkin spice seasonal bullshit, followed by a couple stiff drinks. But instead he’ll be napping in the CDC waiting room, and roll home just in time to open the shop.

Faintly, at the horizon, he spots red-blue strobes flashing, and curses under his breath—if a cop’s burning to pull someone over, a pink guy duct taped to a biker will make his night. But there’s only one road, and Fennel needs help, so Weevil clenches his teeth Veronica-style and keeps on going.

As he approaches, it becomes obvious something’s wrong; the car’s slewed sideways blocking traffic, windshield shattered ten feet away, driver door hanging open. There’s blood splattered on the hood. Something ugly went down, and Weevil wants no part of it—he’s tightening his fingers on the gas when he realizes fleeing’s impossible.

Norris Clayton, Veronica’s deputy friend, is crawling slowly along the asphalt towards the radio, bleeding from the back of the head. His face turns sideways, slo-mo, to watch hopefully as Weevil slows. “Nav…ro,” he manages, barely audible over the bike’s idle. Then, gathering himself to try harder, “VerONica.”

“I can’t help you, man,” Weevil calls, frustrated. “I can barely dismount unless you cut me loose. I’m duct-taped to Fennel, here, and he ain’t doing so hot.”

“Yeah, he’s…pink,” Norris observes, managing to sit up and fish in his pocket. Locates a switchblade, which he holds out. “This big enough to saw through?”

Wallace rouses, babbles something incomprehensible, and Norris adds, “Veronica found the antidote. She’s on her way back to the winery now…might already be there.”

Shit. “She couldn’t call?” Weevil asks, rhetorically, putting the bike in park as close to Clayton as possible. He lifts with his legs to hoist himself off, Fennel dangling limply. Accepting the knife with a smirk, he adds, “You know, other than the uniform, you haven’t changed much.”

Twisting sideways painfully, he begins to saw at the tape--Norris crawls behind him to brace Wallace. “Learned to control my temper,” Norris says, and Weevil can just see him gingerly prodding the back of his skull. “Fucker threw me against a TREE. Breitski—he’s on something strong. Haven’t seen Keith since I woke up, either…odds are good he’s a hostage.”

Weevil cuts the last of the tape, and between them they get Wallace prone on the roadside. The guy looks bad, head thrashing, foaming at the mouth. The sideways glance Clayton flashes says he agrees.

“Can you stand up?” Weevil asks. “Get yourself in the passenger seat? I can lift Fennel into the back, he’s a little dude, but you gotta weigh like two hundred pounds.”

Clayton braces his hand on the fender and pushes upright…tumbles sideways, catches himself. “Dizzy,” he says, rueful. “I’ve got a bitch of a concussion, but I’ll live. Put him in the car and go hide your bike. We’ll discuss how deep the shit drowning us is on the way to Van Vliet’s.”

“It’s a LAKE, man,” Weevil warns, but obligingly hoists Wallace. “I’m actually disappointed for once you can’t fight. Tonight, those fists of fury of yours would come in handy.”

VERONICA

“Well, if this was Gilligan’s Island, we could solve the whole problem with extract of coconut,” Mac is saying, buckling her seatbelt as V climbs into the SUV. “But since it’s REALITY, there’s actual science involved in producing a cure.”

“If this was Gilligan’s Island,” Logan drawls, fishing for keys, “the events of the day would be an amusing misunderstanding, thanks to Gilligan falling in a vat of papaya juice. Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure Wallace…” he frowns as he notices V’s expression. “Hey, pumpkin, what’s wr…”

She slaps a palm over his mouth, gestures for Mac to hand over the iPad she ripped off from the winery. Pulls up the word processor and types, “Wei’s dirty, and he’s listening to everything you say. Your stupid earbud’s set to transmit.”

Logan’s eyes widen in understanding. “Wow,” he improvises, smacking his lips like they’ve been kissing. “We’ve only been apart two minutes. I guess it really is true what they say about danger being an aphrodisiac.”

Mac gestures for the tablet, and says as she types, “Your fault, for running around with no shirt all day, acting brawny and heroic. Although please, next time? Have some respect for my innocent eyes and take it outside.”

She hands the pad back, and V and Logan cluster together to read. “What should we do? We can’t trust the Neptune PD to help, and Wallace needs that antidote ASAP.”

Veronica types, “Dad and your new boyfriend Norris will handle Wei. We’re making tracks for the winery, and trying to breathe through stress.”

Logan winks, starts the engine, and says, “I could really go for an In-and-Out burger, you two game? Mac, do their fries pass muster in vegetarian circles?”

He pulls out onto the highway heading back towards Van Vliet’s. Mac’s reply--“I’ve been cheating death all evening. I’m willing to ignore a little lard,”--is interrupted by the chime of Logan’s cell.

Pulling it out of his pocket, he registers the unknown sender and lifts his brows at Veronica. She shakes her head, pointing at her earbud; frowns as Wei says something about an alarm going off. A dig through her bag confirms she’s also received an unknown call, so she holds up a finger and retrieves the message.

“Veronica?” Leo D’Amato’s voice filters thinly through, poor connection with a side of mechanical beeping. “Listen, I hate to leave important stuff on voicemail, but I keep calling down your list, and the only person I can reach is Dick. I just need you to know Brietski’s in with the drug runners—and I’m sure of this, he shot me in what would have been my heart if I hadn’t ducked. Also, the shenanigans at the Van Vliet’s are a bigger deal than I thought, when I sent you to dig for the missing safe. I’ve just had a visit from some pissed-off military brass. So just…contact Bob Dillen at the San Diego PD if you need rescuing, he’s definitely honest. And stay away from the winery--not to mention anyone lurking there who might be…pink.”

No can do, Detective, she thinks, hanging up. I owe a dose of antidote to my best friend. But I’m glad you’re not dead because I failed to smell a rat.

Logan smirks as the sound of Brietski’s car stalling is conveyed by the earbud, mouths “Sabotage?” at Veronica. She grins— Dad likely frayed the alternator belt—then jerks in shock as gunshots ring out.

“What the fuck?” Logan mutters over the squealing, skidding, and shattering glass. “Which road did they take? Do you think they’re behind us?”

“You guys, what’s happening?” Mac asks from the back seat. “I’m not wearing an earbud, there weren’t enough in my bag! You guys!”

Veronica grabs Logan’s forearm, fingernails digging in, as Wei’s speech to Keith is followed by a wet thud.

“Oh shit,” Mac says, pressing fingertips to her lips. “DID WEI DO SOMETHING TO KEITH?”

A frantic head shake from Veronica makes Mac realize she shouldn’t have yelled, but it’s too late. A stream of curses erupt from Breitski, followed by, “Very sneaky, Veronica Mars, switching me to transmit. No more spying, though, or you might hear something you REALLY won’t like.”

His earbud emits a loud squeal, consistent with being crushed, goes silent. A second later there’s another squeal, no doubt Keith’s unit. Veronica closes her eyes.

“What do you want me to do?” Logan asks, voice low and reassuring. “Keep heading towards the winery, or turn around and search?”

“You know what? I can track Keith’s cell.” Mac reaches down and fumbles in her bag of equipment; pulls out an electronic module and rapidly types. It lights up, processing, and she says, “They’re on the PCH, not this road. It will take us longer to backtrack and locate the accident than it will to meet them there. Wei must be headed back to Van Vliet’s, right?”

Clenching her jaw, Veronica opens her eyes and nods. Logan entwines their fingers, then floors the gas.

It’s a thirty-minute drive, but they make it in seventeen. Logan cuts up the service road, which runs twenty feet in the direction V DIDN’T walk this morning, right past the bird-infested clearing.

“That’s where they dropped me.” She shakes her head as they pass at her navigational failure. “There’s the bike Ruby supposedly rode in pursuit.”

“Ruby’s full of it.” Mac peers out the darkened window. “Leaving aside the impossibility of keeping pace, that’s a kid’s bicycle. She’d never fit. My guess is, it’s Katie’s, from before the accident that left her paralyzed.”

“I wouldn’t put it past Ruby to drive you here herself,” Logan says. “Or to hide in the back of the truck and attempt rescue, since that would earn my gratitude. Hate to break it to you, babe, but she wants me BAD.”

“Thanks for the news flash.” Veronica elbows him as they pass the guest house, grateful for the attempt to keep her spirits up. Watches him wince as the still-smoking remains of his beloved BMW hove into view. Then frowns, because it looks like the front planters have been smashed, and the door’s…ripped off its hinges? “Jesus, what HAPPENED while we were at the warehouse?”

They pile out of the car, but Logan holds up a hand to halt his companions’ progress. Kneels to study the ground. “Bare feet and motorcycle tracks. Feet head through there,” he points at the hole where the door used to be, “tracks go around to the side. Anybody notice a Harley carrying a naked passenger, at any point in the proceedings?”

Veronica lifts her brows and he grins, standing. Wipes dirt, futilely, off the grungy knees of his jeans. “Military survival training,” he explains, with a faint smile. “Don’t look so surprised. I can built a yurt out of sticks, too, if need be.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She bats her lashes and beckons to Mac, who’s standing on crushed snapdragons, examining a shattered picture window. “The only biker I know who would turn up to help me is Weevil, but I don’t remember calling him. And surely if Dad had, he would have said so?”

“To be fair,” Mac contributes, “there’s a lot you don’t remember. And Weevil definitely drives a Harley. Maybe he went in through the patio?”

They check, but the French doors are locked; through the glass, Veronica can see someone’s stuffed a chair under the knob. A quick circuit of the house shows all other doors in the same condition, and nobody’s visible through the windows. “It’s like they prepared for a siege,” she says, thoughtfully. “But someone had the brute force to break in anyway.”

“In which case, either they hid, or were taken,” Logan says grimly. “We’ll have to enter through the front and search.”

“I’m calling Dick.” Mac pulls out her cell, listens, groans. “No joy. You wouldn’t happen to have anything resembling weaponry in that bag, would you?”

Silently, Veronica hands over the taser, then loads Jeff’s golden gun. She offers it to Logan, because he’s actually not terrified of firearms, but he waves it away—then steps in front, to precede her through the broken door.

There’s debris in the hall, mostly splintered wood; the coat closet stands open. Frowning, Logan indicates bloody footprints and says, “They were planning to wait in the library, right? Because it looks like whoever made these came from, then went back to, that room.”

“Could there be another Pink Hulk?” Veronica wonders, studying the prints as they pass. “That would explain the discrepancy in size and aggression between the guy that initially chased us and poor Wallace. These feet are big--and if he took off his shoes before getting in the coffin, I’d guess he chose to be there.” She taps her chin with one finger, thinking. “But if there ARE two of them, where was this guy…altered? The barn’s only got one pod, and Wallace was in it all day.”

“Could be more hidden somewhere else.” Logan follows the trail, alert and focused in a way that’s…really smoking hot, though this is not the time to dwell. Pushes the library door open and scouts before beckoning them in.

“Or someone took Hulk One out in order to pinkify Wallace,” Mac says, holding the door. “He theoretically could have wandered around smashing stuff all day.”

“The floor’s been cleaned.” Logan points at a black-stained towel on the rug. “But that was used to wipe up grease, not blood. And footprints criss-cross the room, like Harvey the Rabbit was searching.”

“Why do I smell urine?” Veronica wrinkles her nose. “And why is there a crushed bouquet of flowers on the desk?”

“The phone lines are out,” Mac announces, setting down the handset. “We’re completely cut off. And frankly, I think whatever went down here is long ov…”

A howl in the distance interrupts her mid-sentence; Logan cocks a brow. “You were saying?”

“Jesus, is something rabid out there?” Veronica wonders, shivering. “It sounds like a coyote only…whinier.”

“Maybe we should try the barn,” Logan suggests, taking her hand. “If the phone lines in the house aren’t working, and our friends managed to escape, they’d look for another landline. Shit, that reminds me—I got a call while we were driving.”

Veronica waves him off before he can pull out his cell. “It was Leo,” she says. “I gave him a list of emergency contacts, you two are numbers one and three. Apparently, the military’s at the hospital asking questions--he’s the cop Wei tried to murder.”

Logan tilts his face up to the ceiling. “If I get court-martialed for meddling in top-secret business, I’m gonna be pissed,” he mutters, before leading the way out to Dick’s car.

They drive in silence to the barn, where Logan repeats his kneel-inspect-frown routine and Veronica frets. Eventually, he finishes Grizzly Adams-ing and saunters back to report.

“Motorcycle tracks and large-vehicle treads lead that way.” He points down the service road in the direction of Neptune. “Looks like Weevil left, and whoever dropped you off here gave chase. Size-twelve Vans prints and very small butch boots head towards the woods,” he points in the opposite direction. “My guess is, Dick and a woman. I got him unicorn Vans as a gag Christmas gift, and he wears them twenty-four-seven.”

“Well, at least Dick can tell us where Wallace went,” Veronica says. “I hope. What’s the status on Dad?”

Mac pulls the tracker from her messenger bag. “Stationary. Same direction as our unicorn-loving friend. But question, before we follow…if the woman’s Ruby, can we trust her? Just exactly whose side is she on?”

“Logan’s.” Veronica smirks, poking his side, and he rolls his eyes. “As long as we’re in this guy’s studly company, we’re safe as houses.”

“Did you just suggest using me as a honeypot?” Logan drapes an arm around her shoulders. “So much for romance.”

She grins. “I’ll bet Ruby would be MORE than glad to romance you silly.”

The shriek comes from closer this time, off to their left among the trees. “RONKAAAAAAA!”

“Did that coyote call my NAME?” V disentangles from Logan’s embrace; her hand clenches around the butt of the gun, sending a tingling sensation up her arm. “Could that be WALLACE? Did he lose it and go fully pink, trash the house? Are his feet just way bigger than I remember?”

They all stare at each other, appalled, as this possibility sinks in. Then, in tandem, they turn and run straight towards the screams.

DICK

“Okay, Rubes.” Dick surveys the cell-tower cement house with all the disfavor his euphoric state allows. “If I was a phone that didn’t need a code to dial out, here’s where I’d be--this place HAS to have a switchboard or some shit inside. But that fence is, like, super-tall and topped with razor wire. So basically, we’re hosed.”

“Really, Dick?” Ruby performs an eye roll so massive he’s surprised it doesn’t hurt. “Could you BE more of a wuss? I thought you were some kind of surfing badass.”

“Chhh-yeah,” he scoffs, as she hands him her bag, then goes up the fence like monkey. “This bod’s a finely-tuned machine. ‘S why I don’t want abdominal scars.”

“But scars have MYSTIQUE.” Ruby does some hardcore, upper-fence handstand that makes him suspect she’s taking Pole Cardio with Madison, then vaults lightly over. She lands, rolls, and pops up dusting her hands. “I’ll bet LOGAN’S got TONS of scars.”

“Logan’s got everything ladies want,” Dick calls after her, as she opens the cabin door and disappears inside. “He’s been pulling any girl he smiled at since we were like twelve. I think it’s cause he acts all vulnerable and shit. Turns the wahines into jell-AY.”

She emerges with a pair of bolt cutters, chops the chain in half. “Everybody’s vulnerable, Dick,” she says, swinging the gate wide. “If pressure’s applied to the right spot.”

He follows her into the darkened room, gawking at wall-to-wall machinery performing functions he can’t name. This place has got power at least—lights are blinking and flashing on various gauges—but he sees nothing that looks remotely like a telephone.

Ruby goes to study a wall of…whatever, arms crossed; Dick wanders, trailing a finger through the dust on a table. Something knocks lightly against his leg as he passes and he bends to find a cardboard tube stashed beneath.

“Check it out,” he calls, setting down her purse, as well as his wig, gun and the wine bottle he found again, lying abandoned on the path. Removes the tube’s cap, and unrolls the blueprints inside. Spreading them out on the tabletop, he squints through the dim light to read. “Dude, CALLED it! Those tunnels DO go farther than we thought. It’s like an ant colony down there, all over the freaking property.”

Reaching past his shoulder, Ruby taps a small square upper-left. “We’re here,” she says. “And a branch of catacombs leads straight down from this location. So somewhere in this room, there’s another secret door.”

She rushes off to look; but Dick figures he’s not smart enough, even post-Super-Dope, to solve that particular puzzle, so he keeps studying the map. “Wonder what this room’s for?” he muses, tracing a round underground chamber drawn to scale with the main house. “My guess is, housing whatever they’re shipping, ‘cause it looks huge.”

“Aha!” Ruby crows, as her efforts to shift a red lever cause groaning and creaking. Dick moves to help. Slowly, a section of computer swings aside to reveal stone steps, going down.

“Rubster strikes again.” He high-fives her, grinning at her flushed excitement, then moves to gather his shit.

She rolls her eyes again, just as theatrically, and rummages in her bag. Produces one of those ecologically-conscious grocery sacks, green and labeled ‘Whole Foods’, holds it out. “It can be your man-purse,” she says, with a smirk. “Your murse.”

“You know, you have a LOT of gear and skills for a karaoke impresario, or whatever it is you do for cash,” he observes, filling and shouldering the murse nonetheless.  “It’s kinda hot, but I’m also slightly intimidated.”

“Join the club,” she breezes, donning her own bag, and leads the way, practically skipping, down the stairs.

Stay tuned for the thrilling conclusion of our round robin! Check back next Saturday for the second half of Part 27 also written by @cheshirecatstrut!