#that keeps being put in situations against his will at her behest

[thegreatyin]

fun fact: way back when i first created his account, i was originally thinking of making caeru my light fingers PC due to the fact it's a Horror Story™ and its themes align surprisingly well with his character. the only reason he ended up going through nemesis in the end is because i couldn't think of a reason for him to get invested in the initial hook (unsurprisingly, the guy who thinks wealth is arbitrary is not particularly enthused by the prospect of stealing a giant diamond)

[myeagleexpert]

The Silence of Seven

↳Synopsis:

❝ The peaceful atmosphere is shattered when Yuu finds one of her friends in a coma of unknown causes. Determined to uncover the truth, Yuu and her friends begin investigating the case and discover a curious pattern that links the victims. But as the investigation progresses, they find themselves in a tangle with powerful enemies, and this time the danger is out of Twisted Wonderland. Yuu and her friends will have to fight against unknown forces to find answers and unravel the mystery before it's too late.❞

↳Notes: Crowly being sus, Trey not handling the loss well, Worried Grim, YUU TEAM CAPTAIN, Leona crumbles because we'll have a proper feast later, short chapter to warm up the next one, always read to the end.

「 Chapter 2: Don't show and tell 」

“Keep this secret, what you saw and heard here must not leave this room. But don't worry, your benevolent director will solve the mystery.”

The scary mask Crowley wore was useless as everyone knew what he meant.

I don't have the slightest idea what's going on. I can't do anything.

Automatically, Yuu felt her shoulders heave as she felt the director's golden orbs collide with her eyes, an unspoken command hit her in the chest.

If you don't fix this, it will be your fault.

.  ˚  . 　　.　　　　  　 ✧

“Deuce! You fool! Not to put that!" Ace complained to the ex-delinquent switching the potions before he poured them into the cauldron

“Oi, Ace…you think I don't know what I'm doing huh?” the already irritated student shook hands in a sign of struggle

“We can't reset one more test, have you forgotten? It is to put fifteen quinzel crystals before boiling and not put quincker crystals afterwards. Yuu tell him!”

Blinking her eyes and turning back to the scene, the girl just monotonously scolded them without even knowing what they were fighting over for the millionth time. And honestly, she didn't care.

“Guys, please.”

Surprised, the boys looked at each other in surprise. Isn't she going to fight with us? So… they went back to sheltering uselessly.

“BAD DOGS”

Taking a few lessons from Crewel, the two quieted down and how puppies with their tails between their paws finished their potions properly was almost funny to watch. But Yuu didn't find it funny at all, nor did he notice when she received the grade, a nice 80/100, Riddle had helped her improve her grades. Her gaze stuck out the window, with thoughts that wandered between hypotheses and nowhere. She was still shocked by yesterday, she hadn't digested the situation as well as Carter, this one, hid his emotions from him for years, and as much as Riddle's situation was disturbing, it just swept more sand under the rug.

Time seemed crazy to the girl today, disconnected, in loopings, in vacuums, she didn't seem to have the notion of how time passed and when she blinked her eyes she was already in the most precious time for grim: the lunch break!

“Aah…henchman, aren't you going to eat?”

They had arrived early today, the line was short, the delicious snacks were hot and they didn't fight with anyone on the way! Everything that never happens to their beautiful bad luck is happening today! Luck is on our side today! What intrigues the feline monster the most is that…just today Yuu doesn't want to eat! As much as Grim considered the missing as a friend, he wasn't worried about the tyrant, he was worried about Yuu who didn't even look at the mouth-watering, tasty meat Ruggie brought them, at Leona's behest.

“I'm kinda not hungry.” with a calm and tired smile the girl smiled at her friends, who studied her form.

"You better eat Yuu, you looks pale." - the beastman friend of the group, Jack was the first to mention causing Grim to stop eating his tuna so quickly.

“Hechmaaaan, do you want to trade the tuna with me? The Great and Powerful Grim won't let his henchman go hungry! Enjoy the special treatment, I only do it for you!”

“Thanks Grim, they look delicious but…I'm not hungry right now. BUT so you don’t get worried, I’m going to drink this juice ok?”

Juice taken, Yuu changes the subject and changes to a more lively tone of voice trying to make them not insist anymore, she invented the excuse of going to prepare for flight training to be alone walking quickly to the bathroom, Grim accompanied her, along with with painful sequences of memories.

“What do you think it could be?”

“I don't know, I've never seen anything like it. It must have been something really strong to catch him off guard and leave him with…”

“Are you bored? Then you might as well study the laws of Queen of Hearts.” “What if we studied something else? I really wanted your opinion on this matter.”

-Hello? It's Yuu, all right senpai? -A-ahh Yuu, I need you to come to the dorm now!

“You are so mysterious, everyone is afraid of me, but not you. It's not like I'm accepting your ways or anything."

“There were no signs of violence on the body, no spell fighting, no signs of poisoning….”

"Let's settle this, guys."

If you don't fix this, it will be your fault.

Washing her face, Yuu hoped that the water from the tap would wash away her disorganized thoughts, just like her uniform that she wore without even paying attention, putting her left arm on her right and missing several buttons. Regretfully, she sighed heavily.

“Yuu-chan! I found you~” a heavy hand touches the girl's shoulder who screams as she recognizes the voice “Carter-senpai!!”

Pulling her into a hug, her senpai whispers coldly in her ear....

“You are not disguising yourself well, dear kouhai. I know it's sad, but you need to be strong. Its gonna be alright, okay?"

Oh yeah.

No one is to know what happens to Riddle.

Trey busied himself spreading the lie that Heartabell's dorm-leader had to return home indefinitely, and everyone knows that Riddle's mother is a woman not to be disputed, and everyone swallowed the sweet lies exclaiming the how nice the air would be without Riddle.

As sweet as his cakes were, Trey couldn't get the guilty bitterness out of his mouth. For the second time, he wasn't there for his childhood best friend when he needed him most. He locked himself in his office, amid papers and regrets.

"So let's go?" Returning to his usual spirit, the redhead kindly organized the girl's uniform without magic, which organized her thoughts, stifling them in some dark corner of her mind and, like Carter, putting on a beautiful mask, smiling and waving to the world.

“If you wanna ask for advice for flying you should ask Carter instead of me. He has a great sense of balance.”

.  ˚  . 　　.　　　　  　 ✧

“Look look who arrived!” “About time!”

His friends were already waiting for them in the field, warming up and lining up brooms. As celebrities, the overboot destroyer girl, the magican freak, and the monster cat arrived on the field and were greeted by not only their friends, but some admirers as well.

“Hey Yuu! Here- Ace shouted waving to the girl who ran towards him. “Yuu, can I join you guys?” a beastman ounce stopped her on the way, he clearly didn't need help. Did you see those muscles? That agility? What do you want with us?

“Can I too?” ‘I’ll go along, I won’t be alone!

Ace complained to Deuce, with these unknown students wanting to steal Yuu's attention all to themselves.

But Ace wasn't the only heartbreaker who couldn't get a little piece of Yuu's attention, a certain second prince had followed the female figure with his gaze from the moment she touched foot on the field.

“Let's start!”- Vargas shouted manly and a whistle was blown

The theory given was the time for practice. While Vargas was checking group by group the evolution and flight of each one, the students who had already been released and those who were waiting were left loose in the wind, without having much to do.

Um, magical teens with magic brooms in their spare time. What can go wrong?

The group of 5, became 8, which became 13, which became 20 and when Yuu saw it there was already a separate team to play some kind of tag game on these brooms. It was a mixture of elements of the famous spell drive with children's games

"Get him Epel!"- Yuu, the captain of the team, shouted to the spell drive player, he certainly knows the techniques to catch the jaguar that stole the ball from them. “I will now!!” the lilac-haired one flew fast and high, trying to reach an Octaville student who was using his reflexes to throw the ball far to a cat beastman

"Deuce! Cat!" commanded the girl, guarding the goal, next to Grim who held on with all his strength to the broom. For those who didn't eat anything it's pretty excited, huh, mentally Grim had already pushed Yuu off the broom because he did know how to score the goal..his words.

With all the speed and breath he had, Deuce flew quickly towards the beastman cat, this one with such agility escaped from all the ambushes that the ex-delinquent tried to take him, the ball seemed to enjoy being on the rival team.

We gonna loose.

“Ace, come over here!” Yuu was famous for having unpredictable actions and making a substitution in the middle of the game, changing from goalkeeper to striker, was something..different.

With Trappola in her place and Grimm at her back, Yuu identifies where the ball is. A jaguar is staring at her, he's the only one who noticed that she's going to play defensively now, exchanging defiant smiles the girl starts moving so diligently and fleetingly dodging her opponents and heading towards the ball, that Grim starts to dig its claws into its back like a scared cat that refuses to go to the vet.

“We will win, minion!” but he still supported her.

The sight of an unbridled flash chasing the ball was seen and heard on the field, the jaguar was good, ambitious to get the ball into the goal, but Yuu was quick, determined to win the game. The two literally played like cat and dog, cat and mouse and—- ohhh by the seven!

By changing strategy, Yuu “disappears” from the jaguar's field of vision, attacking from below and stealing the ball from him! And the opposing students chase her, she, who just flies higher and higher and faster, making sudden turns and then gaining space and angle for the much desired goal.

We will win.

Utilizing the same technique that Yuu used, a Scarabia student steals the ball from under Yuu causing her to lose her balance and fall off her broom.

“AAAAAAH!!””

With the world spinning and already out of air, it looked like Yuu's friends wouldn't catch her in time.

“HENCHMAAN!” “YUU!” “KANKANTOU-CHAN!”

The higher the top, the greater the fall. How ironic.

Before she fell to the hard floor, strong arms rescued her and held her in bridal style, trapping into a strong, warm chest.

Leona holds the girl in his arms, both breathing fast with adrenaline. Hearts beating so fast. He traces his fingers gently across the girl's soft cheek, and taking advantage of having saved her from a big fall, he uses it as an excuse to hold her closer, for longer, sinking his nose into the girl's neck, who even stunned felt they were going down.

Even as she touched the ground, Leona was too caught up in this moment, in the touch and the opportunity to get her closer.

“Aah, Leona… I'm fine now, thanks.” light pats were given to bring the lion out of his trance, who, when he realized that his annoying friends were approaching, dropped Yuu carefully to the ground, checking for any other injuries.

"Be careful." the forcefully angry voice did not reach Yuu's ears, still dizzy from the fall, she did not notice that Leona was running her hand through her hair, stroking it—putting the strands in place. Her hair was all messed up from the wind ok?

Stupid Herbivore

Yuu thanked the leader of the beasts' dormitory, apologizing for the inconvenience and running back to her friends, who were anxiously waiting for a new match. Except for Grim, who groaned at the strong scent of lion on his friend's uniform.

 ︵︵⸙︵︵

<<Previous You are here Next>>

[quill-pen]

A Christmas Confession pt. 1 (Married!ScroogeXReader)

I know, I know! I said I wouldn't post up much more for the story and that I'd only do some requests and headcannon stuff, but since listening to that gorgeous cover of 'Come What May' by Luke, my brain has been fraught with inspiration. And when I followed through with it, it turned into something just a little bit bigger because I've been dying to write Ebenezer being a loving Uncle figure to children. So here we are!

Part two will come along in a bit and bring with it quite a bit more romance. *wink* Right now, enjoy sweet Uncle Ebby with some adorable little girls plus YOU!

Note: Remember, the main idea of the story is you are Marley's estranged daughter raised in America but returned to England to live (for many complicated reasons) in your early to mid-20s (younger half-siblings now included because I want to write father-figure Scrooge and the Cratchit kids and street urchins can't always be around). For the many complicated reasons previously mentioned, you have married Ebenezer--a dear friend--and are struggling with the situation because you truly have feelings for the man, but are convinced he couldn't possibly feel the same.

Also, too late for Christmas stuff? NOT WHEN IT COMES TO 'A CHRISTMAS CAROL'. If Ebenezer can keep Christmas in his heart alive all the year, then why can't I?!

Enjoy!

Pairing: Ebenezer Scrooge x F!Reader (married)

Warnings: None, unless you count pining and seriously adorable Uncle Ebenezer with cute kids.

Summary: Christmas time has come again! This time, (probably at the behest of the children) you and Scrooge have invited the Cratchits and the Huffmans to stay with you for Christmas Eve so that you may all enjoy a Christmas morning together. You and Ebenezer agree to put the children to bed so that the Cratchits might have a break. For once!

A/N: Don't worry--we will get Prudence in the next part! And as always, insanely soft Scrooge.

And if anyone has any idea what the other Cratchit girls besides Kathy (who by all rights would probably be Belinda IDK why so many names got changed in this thing) are, let me know. Because right now, I'm just naming them things that sound right.

Part 2

A Christmas Confession pt. 1

Arms crossed over your chest, you leaned against the doorpost and watched with a small smile on your face as Millie and the young Cratchit girls knelt at the side of the bed, heads bowed and hands clasped in the nightly prayer: “Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray the Lord my soul to keep….”  Once they’d finished the recitation, they went around the bed, each thanking or praying to God individually about something or someone in turn.  Millie started off the round: “I thank you, God, for sending us the baby Jesus.  And I also pray that my friend Betty in Cincinnati has a nice Christmas this year.  She told me in her letters she was wanting a new doll and a dress--I hope she gets them.  I would just like a pony, with Christmas ribbons in its mane and tail.  Thank you, God.”

You fought back the urge to laugh at that, successfully turning it into a quiet snort.  Oh, you’re adorable but highly tenacious baby sister!  Even at six years old, you could already tell you were in for a whirlwind of a time raising her up.  God help you when the teenage years came! 

A large, warm hand enclosed over your shoulder, drawing your attention away from the children to see Ebenezer standing just behind you.  “How are we coming?” he murmured, eyes on the girls.

“We’re just finishing up our prayers,” you whispered back.  “How are the boys?”

“Tucked in, waiting for you to come say goodnight.”

You gave him a look of disbelief.  “What?!  You mean to tell me you have that rowdy lot in bed already?  How on earth did you beat me?”

The silver-haired man flashed you one of his divinely roguish smirks, making your knees feel the slightest bit wobbly.  “I, my fine lady, am a man of many talents,” he whispered mysteriously.

Raising an eyebrow you smirked back.  “Hmm, bribed them with sovereigns.  I see.”  You tsked your tongue and shook your head at him.  “Cheater.”

Ebenezer didn’t even try to deny it, just merely burred that beautiful chuckle of his that stirred your soul.

The two of you fell silent and watched on as the girls continued on around their individual prayers.  Ebenezer’s hand stayed on your shoulder, a wonderful, gentle, steady, and warm weight that conversely sent shivers tingling along your nerves.  Oh, how you wished he’d put that hand around your waist and pull you into him, as close as a real wife should be.  Or at least take one of your own hands into it and twine your delicate fingers together with his attractively large ones.  There was no hope for it--you wanted to be completely and utterly possessed by him.  Not merely carnally (though that in itself was a major appeal) but in the soft, devoted, domestic way too; the way you’d see the Cratchits and Huffmans behave towards each other; the way you’d see couples walking the street act; the way you’d grown up watching your mother and step-father interact.  What you would have given to be totally and completely the woman of the house--to be Ebenezer’s woman.

But there was no point in pining for things that wouldn’t come to pass, so you forced your mind away from the concept and put it back on the girls, who were coming to the end of their personal prayers.  Millie added in one last time: “Also, God, I know I’m still just a little girl, but I’d take really good care of a pony if I had one.  I promise--cross my heart.  Honest.  Amen.”

Again you snorted, and you heard the man beside you rumble out another amused chuckle as well.  “She certainly knows how to work the system,” he remarked.

“Oh, she’s completely incorrigible,” you told him.  With that, you moved back into the room (regretfully slipping out from Ebenezer’s touch as you did) and approached the children.  “All right, girls, very good.  Now let’s get into bed.”  You pulled back the thick covers and watched as they all filed between them one by one.  

“We’re not sleepy yet,” Tilda and Maggie protested, despite snuggling in next to Millie.

“We want to stay up and try to catch Father Christmas!” Alice added enthusiastically.

An entire chorus of excited agreement went up from the girls

“But he won’t come unless you’re all sound asleep,” you countered, smiling the slightest bit.  Oh, to be a child on Christmas Eve again!

“Why?” sweet little Judith asked.

All five sets of eyes shined brightly up at you in innocence and wonderment, awaiting an answer.  An answer that you, admittedly, were a little bit stumped over.  “Um… well… that’s just always been the way it is.”

“But why?” Millie pressed further.

“Because that’s how Father Christmas’ magic works!”

You and the girls turned to see Ebenezer coming into the room, slate-blue eyes as bright and shining as the children’s.  He smiled and winked at you as he moved towards the bed.  You felt your heart flutter just a bit, the slightest warmth of a blush color your cheeks.  Thank God the flickering firelight would help conceal it.  

The tall man went around the bed and sat on the side opposite you, beaming down at the snuggled-up little girls in a way that made your heart positively melt.  “You see, girls, Father Christmas has a very special kind of magic that can only work when you are all asleep,” Ebenezer twisted up his face in a comically sneaky way and peered around conspiratorially as if he were about to relay a very important secret that only they were supposed to hear and then whispered, “because the magic is fueled by your Christmas dreams!”

You made saucer-wide eyes along with the girls and exclaimed, “Ooooh!” 

“Yes,” Ebenezer continued.  “That’s why you must all sleep tonight so that you may dream and give Father Christmas all the power he needs for his magic to work.  Why without your dreams to help him, he would never be able to travel the world and deliver presents to all the little boys and girls!  And we wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

“No!” Judith exclaimed, her eyes twice the size they normally were and so full of sweet innocence it broke your heart.  She clutched her dolly preciously to her.  

“No,” Ebenezer agreed with a serious shake of his silvery head.  “I didn’t think so.  So off to sleep for each of you.”

“How come we have to go to bed, but the grown-ups don’t have to?” Maggie asked.

“Yeah, shouldn’t they be sleeping so their dreams can help the magic too?” Tilda added.

That time it was Ebenezer’s turn to look stumped.  Clearly, he hadn’t thought that far ahead in his story.  “Um… w-well-”

“Grown-ups’ dreams aren’t as powerful as children’s dreams,” you came to his rescue.  “But we make up for it by helping Santa in making sure that all of the children go to bed on time so that he has enough magic when he needs it.”

“Precisely!” Ebenezer brightened, smiling gratefully at you.  Then he became very serious and stern as he turned to the girls again.  “Which is why you must all go to bed at once,” he ordered, poking a ticklish finger into each little girl's tummy, causing them to squeal with laughter.  “Because if you do not go to sleep, we will be failing in our duty to Father Christmas!  Understood?”

Still giggling, the girls all sounded off: “Yes, sir!”

“Very good!” Scrooge said, voice still gruff like a Sergeant Major General’s.  “Now, good night!”  With a devilish gleam in his eyes, the man loomed down over the girls and gave them each a good hard nuzzle on the face with his cheeks, evilly chuckling ‘good night’ over and over.  The girls laughed harder and tried to push him away, shrieking and squealing about his “whisker tickles”.  That only made him continue with more vigor.

You couldn’t help but laugh right along with them.  “Ebenezer, at this rate you’ll get them so stirred up again they’ll never be able to sleep for Santa!”

Laughing as well, Ebenezer pulled back to give you an acquiescent smile.  “I suppose you are right, my dear.  Without these little ones’ dreams, Father Christmas may never get his sleigh off the ground!”  With that, he turned back to the girls and leaned back in, only this time to administer gentle kisses to their brows.  Each girl gave him a return kiss on the cheek; Millie went a bit further to reach up and hold his face in place as she blew a wet raspberry into his muttonchop.  (The man grimaced but judging how he still smiled, he didn’t seem to mind too much.)  “Good night, my lovies,” Ebenezer murmured softly, an adoring gentleness in his blue eyes.  “Sweet dreams and happy Christmas.”

“Good night, Uncle Ebby!” the girls chorused as he stood to leave.

“Right to sleep now,” you told the girls as you too stood up and began to leave.  “No talking.  Remember Santa’s counting on you to help him work tonight.”

“Yes, Y/N/Auntie Y/N!”

There was still the faint noise of giggling and whispered chatter as you closed the door, but it was quickly beginning to die down.  Ebenezer’s magic had worked.

A mildly disgusted groan caused you to turn and find the man in question wiping at his spittle-slicked cheek with his handkerchief.  

You giggled and pulled out your own handkerchief from your sleeve.  “Here, let me.  Your silky thing won’t do the job.” 

With a grateful smile, Ebenezer gentlemanly bowed his face towards you.  "That girl is going to be a menace to society, I tell you," he said, only half-jokingly.

You hummed in agreement as you cleaned him up, still having to stand a bit on tiptoe to do so (lovely, tall man…).  "Don't I know it?  She is her father's daughter--George was a… character.  But I adored him.”  You gave him a knowing smile.  “Just as you adore Millie."

Ebenezer gave you a playful scowl, the softness in his eyes saying you were right.  “You’d better go see the boys now,” he said, once you’d finished drying him off.  “And then we’d better check on the older children to make sure they got themselves to bed.”

You nodded and put your kerchief away.  As you followed him down the hall, you were still thinking about Ebenezer’s story.  You’d never heard anything like it before.  “Where’d you come up with that?” you asked, looking up at him.

The man raised a bushy brow quizzically.  “Beg pardon?”

“The story about Santa’s magic fueled by children’s dreams.  Did you hear that somewhere or did you just make it up on the spot?”

Ebenezer smiled.  “Oh, that.”  He chuckled.  “Well, yes, I did come up with it, as a matter of fact, when my sister and I were children.”  A sort of sad haze came into the man’s beautiful eyes to mix with the happiness of the memory as he reminisced.  “You see, Jen was like any other child on Christmas Eve--well so was I, rather, for a while at least.  Apparently, our parents couldn’t give her a satisfactory answer as to why she should go to bed rather than stay up and wait for Father Christmas.”

“So you came up with the reason for why.”

“Exactly.”

“Did it work?”

“It did.  And Jen would ask me about it every Christmas after, even beyond the point where we stopped believing.”

You smiled and gently nudged the tall man with your shoulder.  “She liked the story,” you said.  “It is a good story, I must say.  Certainly much more fun than what we were given: Mama and George told us if we didn’t go to bed, Santa would simply pass right over our house.  It seemed to do the trick for us.  Although my final year of believing, I did sneak out of bed and stayed up.”  You laughed at the memory.  “Sakes alive, did I give poor old George a fright when he came down early to put the presents out!  He just about took me over his knee to tan my hide!”

“And I take it catching your stepfather was what caused your belief to fade,” Ebenezer surmised, looking a little amused by your story.

“Yes,” you admitted a little forlornly.  “It was sad.  I think it’s always sad when you stop believing in that sort of magic.”

“Yes,” Ebenezer agreed, also looking just a bit sad.  But then he quickly gave you a bright smile.  “But then you discover a new magic in making the old magic for others, and then you begin to believe again.”

“Just in a different way,” you said, understanding his meaning.

The man only beamed in agreement.  “That was a very nice addition to the story, I must say,” he said after a moment.  “The bit about adult dreams not being as powerful as those of children.”

You raised your chin a bit haughtily and flipped a curl of your hair with a smug smile.  “Why thank you, kind sir,” you purred.  “I thought it was inspired.”

Ebenezer chuckled at that.  “You know, I’d forgotten that story,” he remarked as you both pulled up in front of the door to the boys’ room.  “Until now.”  He had a distant, contemplative look in his eyes.

Feeling a bit bold, you reached out and grabbed his hand, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze.  You smiled genuinely at him.  “I’m glad you remembered it, Ebenezer,” you told him.  “The girls enjoyed it and… and so did I.  Truly.”

Ebenezer had looked a bit surprised when you’d taken his hand so suddenly.  Now the surprise was fading back into warmth and affection.  He squeezed your hand back.  “Then I shall strive never to forget it again, Y/N.”  

There was something in his manner; something extremely soft and unknown to you in his voice and gaze; something that warmed your being from the top of your head to the tips of your toes.  For the umpteenth time, your heart fluttered--your breath caught in your throat.  You may not have known what it was, but you knew you never wanted him to stop looking at or talking to you like that.  Could… could he possibly- the thought was dismissed from your mind before it even had time to fully process.  No.  No, it wasn’t that; it wasn’t possible.  Ebenezer saw you as his very dear friend and that was all; he would never look at you or speak to you in a way other than that.  It was just fanciful thinking on your part that that warmth in his manner could be something more.  Merely wishes.  It was simply the merriment of the evening and the excess joy of the children rubbing off on everyone, enhancing every emotion.  It was the spirit of Christmas--that was all.

You shook your head, clearing off the daze.  “Well,” you said, clearing your throat before adding significant volume to your tone so you would be heard through the door, “we’d better go make sure these boys are asleep!”  With that, you, rather reluctantly, let go of Ebenezer’s hand.  And if you weren’t so deadset on Ebenezer seeing you as nothing more than a friend, you could have sworn his release was reluctant as well.

@the-house-of-auditore-frye @oldmanlusting

[boombambaby]

Pizza

Several hours have passed since the guards first arrived to bring his belongings into the hut, and there was still no end in sight. Kuzco’s bed made it safely into the attic room, wedged inside of a small nook off to the side. With a little finagling, it was able to fit relatively well with Chaca and Tipo’s bunk beds in the small room; Not that it made him feel any better about the situation. Or him being ‘wedged’ anywhere.

Now that the guards had been shouted into submission and were listening to him (somewhat), Kuzco orchestrated the move in by ordering them around, telling them where to put his stunning stone carved busts (‘The table in the dining room is fine, it’s supposed to be a conversation starter!’) and the other knick knacks he brought from the palace. It worked for a while; until Chicha saw Kuzco trying to replace a chair with a mannequin designed to show off his imperial robes, and put her foot down. (‘Absolutely not, Kuzco. This is our home; NOT a museum.’)

With Chicha now in charge, and ordering most of the unnecessary items down to the basement, Kuzco sullenly retreated into the living room to relax on the couch and watch the proceedings from afar. He’d spent the better part of the day dealing with all of this, and he was exhausted. It had to be the most work he’s done in. . . he can’t even remember.

When one of the guards comes back from the attic empty handed, he snaps his fingers and waves him over. “Hey, do me a favor? Head down to Mudka’s and pick up a dozen pizza’s.” The guard nods, straightening and turning on his heel to head out of the hut.

This was much better.

Sure, it wasn’t his opulent palace. . . with his gourmet chef, and his money stuffed pillows, heated floors and vanilla scented bathrobes. . .

But maybe this stupid ‘school’ thing wouldn’t be so bad if he still had his Royal guards around.

He relaxes back against a pillow with his arms behind his head, closing his eyes and smiling to himself at the thought. Maybe he’ll even see that hottie-hot-hottie he’d noticed last week when he came to Pacha’s hut to let him know about the news. What was her name again?. . . Malina! That’s it.

She’s bound to be impressed when he shows up at the school; especially if it’s with his guards. He can see it now.

Guard #4 returns a short time later carrying a large stack of pizza boxes, which at Kuzco’s behest, he places on the floor next to the couch. Chicha chooses that moment to come in, Pacha on her heels and she stops mid stride when she notices them. “Oh, how nice Kuzco. You ordered pizza for everyone helping you move in. That’s. . . actually pretty thoughtful.”

Kuzco already has the top most pizza box open, and is mid reach to tear a slice out. “What? Oh, no– silly Chicha.This is lunch! For me.” He chuckles, taking a large bite out of the bottom of the slice and reclining back against the couch again. Mouth still full, he continues; “I am one HUNGRY, King of the World.”

Chicha and Pacha can only stare, dumbfounded, at the lazy teenager.

“Hey chief, keep em’ coming will ya? I don’t want this stack getting down below three boxes.”

Chicha closes her eyes in an attempt not to lose her temper, and Pacha– sensing her struggle– reaches out to place his hands on her shoulders. “Honey, why don’t you go relax and check on Yupi? I’ll take it from here.”

A snort-growl ensues, and without a word Chicha stomps her way up the stairs, fists balled at her sides. Pacha watches her go, then turns towards the lazy-would-be Emperor with his hands on his hips.

Kuzco, oblivious, is already reaching for another slice of pizza and chuckles at Chicha’s reactive snort. “Sheesh; what was her deal?”

[treesah]

In defense of 迢迢, the song fucks you up more if you know the meaning behind it! It heavily references, but is not quite completely about, the Chinese folktale/myth of The Cowherd and the Weaver Girl. The song is about two lovers in a long-distance relationship who are wistfully remembering previous reunions and looking forward to their next, and likening their situation to that of the Cowherd and the Weaver Girl.

This website has a pretty good rundown on the lyrics and meaning.

I really love the longing tone of the song and the way the lyrics scan, and I think it's also poignant because a lot of adults in China, especially from rural areas, are essentially migrants in their own country. They live in workers' dormitories or rent rooms in major metropolitan areas where the jobs are and only see their spouses and children once a year during Lunar New Year, maybe some other major festivals if they can swing it. It's sad for spouses who must keep their love alive over long distances, but it's even sadder for the children who get left behind to essentially raise themselves.

There are all sorts of variations on The Cowherd (Niulang, 牛郎, symbolizing the star Altair) and the Weaver Girl (Zhinü, 织女, symbolizing the star Vega), some of them incredibly rapey, but here's the romantic version (since it's celebrated as a timeless love story and the origin of Qixi (七夕) Festival, which is on the seventh day of the seventh lunar month (August 22 in 2023, August 10 in 2024) and is the Chinese equivalent of Valentine's Day):

Seven Heavenly Maidens, ie Zhinü and six of her sisters, take a trip to the mortal realm which they're very curious about since access to the mortal realm is restricted. They got permission from the Empress of Heaven for this excursion.

As the Seven Heavenly Maidens are bathing in a lake at night, Niulang, out herding oxen, hears the commotion and decides to investigate. All the Heavenly Maidens except for Zhinü hide, and as Zhinü and Niulang see each other, they fall immediately in love. She stays in the mortal realm, marries Niulang, and they have two children, while her sisters return to Heaven and do their best to cover up Zhinü's forbidden romance with a mortal.

The Empress of Heaven finds out and is furious, and orders Zhinü to return to Heaven immediately. Niulang, devastated, weeps and hides his face against his ox's side. His ox speaks, and tells Niulang that wearing his hide would enable Niulang to travel to Heaven and find Zhinü. At the ox's behest, Niulang kills the ox and puts the hide over himself and his two children (Beta and Gamma Aquilae, the two stars flanking Altair) and sets off to reunite with his wife and the mother of his children. The journey is long and full of obstacles, but Niulang perseveres and reunites briefly with Zhinü.

Unable to stand being defied and determined to keep the immortal Zhinü and the mortal Niulang apart, as is right and proper, the Empress uses her hairpin to scratch the wide and impassable Heavenly River (the Milky Way) into the sky and banishes Niulang (with his children) and Zhinü to opposite sides of the river forever. However, moved by their sorrow and their enduring love for each other, magpies fly up into the Heavens every year on the seventh night of the seventh lunar month to form a bridge (Queqiao, 鹊桥, the Bridge of Magpies) so that Niulang and Zhinü can meet in the middle once a year on Qixi.

Tongues and Teeth (The Crane Wives)

If you're fine with that you can be mine.... I WILL POISON ALL YOUR HAPPY THOUGHTS! I WILL LOVE YOU LIKE THE ASHES IN MY CIGARETTE BOX!

I've grown a mouth so sharp and cruel It's all that I can give to you, my dear And when you come in quick to steal a kiss My teeth will only cut your lips, my dear

And I know that you mean so well, But I am not a vessel for your good intent.

"I quote the above passage."

"It sounds happy until you listen to the lyrics and then you're like. Oh"

"Can I submit The Crane Wives whole catalog? Just every song they've ever made? Tongues & Teeth is so good tho so I'll make it my flagship, its both so personal and so universal cause you can interpret it in so many ways to apply it to so many blorbos. I've applied it to 10 and it fits and hits different every time. Absolutely Iconic song."

迢迢 Tiao Tiao (黄诗扶 Huang Shi Fu)

It's sooo beautiful. I could listen to it on repeat for days on end

Tongues and Teeth submitted by @they-thespian666 + others

[kohanayaki]

.:Time and Time Again:. (Marauders Era x Reader) Ch 7

Severus looks back on everything that went wrong.

tw: non-consensual kissing/harassment, trauma responses

LINKS:   CH 1   CH 2    CH 3   CH 4   CH 5   CH 6   CH 7   CH 8

________________________________________________________

Ch 7 .:Things Unforgivable and Things Left Unsaid:.

Graduation day at Hogwarts was supposed to mark the beginning of a new adventure for you. Instead, it marked the day you decided that whatever it was between you and Severus Snape, friendship or otherwise, it was over.

Or at least that's what you had thought. Of course, the universe just loved making things more complicated for you. You were working with Charlie in Romania when you had gotten word that Severus defected from the death eaters and was now working as a double agent at Dumbledore's behest. He continued teaching Potions at Hogwarts, and was even indited as a member of the Order. If anything, that only solidified your decision to go to America instead of staying in London. You didn't even know what to think. Of course you trusted Dumbledore, confusing as the man was, but you didn't know if you could really trust Snape again. You had worked towards forgiving him; over time you moved past what happened, but it was difficult to really say it was 'resolved' when you quite literally haven't spoken a word to each other in over a decade. You didn't even know where to start.

For the entirety of your seventh year, you didn't speak a word to Severus. It was hard to imagine that such a tight knit trio like the one you, him, and Lily had formed could crumble in an instant, but that's exactly what happened.

The end of your sixth year at Hogwarts was a quarter Snape would never forget, no matter how hard he tried. It was when everything fell apart. . .

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   1976  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“James!” you yelled, running to the top of the hill where he and the rest of the Marauders had Snape held upside down.

“What are you doing?” you said, immensely hurt and trying to keep your voice steady, “You said this would stop, you promised. . . you swore.”

“(Y/n), I. . .” James trailed off, immediately feeling guilty. As he turned to you Snape dropped to the ground, attempting to scramble to his feet but finding his ankle twisted.

Sirius moved towards you to say something but you put your hand up firmly.

“No,” you said, “not a word out of you, Black.”

Sirius stared at you, wide-eyed, shrinking back as you called him by his last name for the first time in a long while. Not Sirius, not Pads. Black. As if your whole friendship had just been reset.

“And you two,” you said, addressing Remus and Peter, “how could you let this happen?!”

All four boys looked at you in shame, none of them daring to verbally respond.

Suddenly, Lily came running up the hill, having fallen behind you in your quick pace.

“Severus!” she panted, rushing over to him, “are you alright?”

Snape was in an angered daze, not even registering the words being said around him. The blood rushing through his veins felt like lava, his heart pounding in his ears, his chest, his tongue. His face burned with humiliation and hatred. Pure fucking hatred for James Fleamont Potter. For Lily to see him like that. . . for you to see him like that, pathetic, helpless, in need of your help once again. He wouldn't have it. He was a master of the dark arts now, he didn't have to fucking take this. He would curse Potter into the next century, he would—

“Severus!”

Snape's eyes snapped open, not even realizing they were closed. The world came rushing in around him and he was suddenly acutely aware of Lily's hand on his arm. He reeled back at her touch as if he'd been burned.

“Don't touch me!” he screeched, startling the redheaded girl. Her eyes were filled with concern, but all Snape could see was pity.

“Sev—“

“I don't need any help from you, you filthy Mudblood!”

And everyone in the clearing stilled.

The color drained from Snape's already pale face as he realized what he'd just said.

“Lily. . .” Severus whispered; pleading, desperate.

“Don't come any closer,” Lily said, her voice stone cold as tears welled up in her eyes.

“I'll kill you,” James said lowly.

“Prongs, no—”

“I'll kill you, you slimy bastard!” James growled, Remus moving quickly to hold him back.

You stood in the middle of it all, staring at Severus. Severus, who'd always told Lily that blood status didn't matter. Severus, who you and Lily always stood up for no matter what. Severus, who you thought you had feelings for up until this exact moment.

Without even thinking you stepped forward, grabbing Lily's hand.

“Let's go, Lils,” you said, your expression unreadable as you looked down at Severus. Lily squeezed your hand back gratefully, fighting the sobs racking her chest as she turned around and took off with you.

“(Y/n), wait—” Snape tried to get up but found himself shoved back down to the ground by Sirius.

“No,” he said sharply, “you don't get to say anything to either of them, you hear me?”

“I—”

“What?” James spat, “you're sorry? Well sorry doesn't cut it! You say a word to her after what you called her and you'll wish you'd never have been born.”

Snape's head hung low, that wish already present in his mind.

“Leave him,” Remus said, this time not out of mercy, but malice; letting Snape wallow in his own misery as he left with his friends, looking for you and Lily.

Soon, Severus was left alone. Just as he began, and just as he should have never hoped for anything different. Was this it? That's how it was going to end? One mistake, and the only two people he'd ever cared about were ripped away from him.

No. He decided he had to apologize properly, consequences be damned. If those Marauders wanted to beat him to a bloody pulp afterwards, that was fine by him. He just needed to talk to Lily one more time. To tell her how deeply sorry he really was.

He took off down the hill, sprinting towards the castle and completely ignoring the burning pain in his ankle. He rushed through the grass, ignoring the looks he received from the other students walking by. He ran past the oak tree, through the castle gates, flying through the corridors and cutting across the courtyard when he skid to a stop at what he saw.

Lily and James stood in the center of the garden, her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer as his lips captured hers. Her eyes were still wet with tears, the tears that he had caused. Severus didn't do a thing. His presence remained unknown to them as he slunk away back to his common room, heart silently breaking.

He was too late.

Nothing was the same after that.

Lily insisted that if you wanted to remain friends with Snape, as she now referred to him, she wouldn't hold it against you, but she made it very clear that she would never forgive him herself. But it wasn't as easy as wanting to stay friends with him or not; he'd changed that day.

After some time to let things settle down you tried to approach him, but he only became more and more hostile towards everyone, including you. You hardly saw him anymore. The only time you occasionally spotted him was when he was walking around school with Malfoy, Mulciber, Wilkes, and Avery, unable to look you in the eye lest you see the utterly crushed expression on your face as he fell deeper and deeper into the dark side.

You held your books tightly to your chest as you made your way to Hagrid's hut for one of your last Care of Magical Creatures class. You were being paired up with a few lower classmen to teach them the ropes for feeding all the creatures Hagrid kept in the meadows. You were a tad late, having been preoccupied at lunch, speedwalking to try and arrive on time when you saw a flash of silver-blue light emit from inside the forest. You could hear warbled shouting and laughter coming from the same direction, and your instincts told you to run.

However, because your nerves were on high alert, that also told you someone in there was in danger, and you couldn't just walk away from that. You drew your wand, abandoning your books by a rockface and moving towards the commotion, the distorted shouting soon becoming words.

“Oh come on, you little runts, you lot can do better than that!” you recognized Mulciber's voice.

A young girl shrieked as a giant acromantula barred its fangs at her, its front legs raised and poised to attack. Her friends were huddled in a corner, more students who couldn't have been older than second or third years, being forced to watch by Avery and Wilkes.

“How's this for Care of Magical Creatures, eh?” Mulciber taunted as he walked over to the other students, pulling a young boy out from the group.

“No!” the girl cornered by the spider cried, “please, don't!”

“Aw, how cute,” Mulciber drawled, “is this your little boyfriend, huh? Shame.”

The boy screamed in fear as he was suddenly lifted into the air by his ankles, forced to hover right above the spider just out of its reach. You wanted to wretch as you watched the scene unfold, unable to keep yourself hidden any longer.

You leaped into the clearing, a quick flick of your wrist relieving Mulciber of his wand. You did the same to Wilkes as he turned to you.

“Well well, why am I not surprised?” Avery scoffed. Right behind him stood Severus, his expression vacant.

“Grab this, and get to Professor McGonagall immediately,” you shouted to the younger Gryffindor students, tossing them a gold galleon. As soon as they touched the coin, the portkey shot them all back to the castle.

“Why are you always the one spoiling our fun?” Mulciber sneered.

“Someone's gotta do it,” you said, putting up a brave front although you were under no illusion as to your situation. You weren't fourth years anymore, and you were alone this time. They'd been studying the dark arts for the past two years. You knew you were outmatched, even with your dueling skills.

“Oh, come on, (Y/n), don't be a bore.”

You turned around at the sound of the familiar voice to see Rosier, an easy grin set into his face. Your heart dropped.

“So you too, huh?” you chuckled bitterly, “and here I thought you were one of the few good ones left.”

“You're not really that naive, are you?” he tutted, “you had to have known I would be inducted eventually. Might even get Barty to join us, even if he is a little nutty.”

You went for a stunning spell but found your wand spinning out of your hand before you even saw him move.

“Not so fun to be on the receiving end, is it?” Rosier said, “you're not the only one versed in non-verbal magic, (Y/n). In fact, I'd even go so far as to say we've surpassed you. Lucius will be furious, but I like you a lot, so I'll re-extend his old offer for him. Join us.”

You had no wand, no backup, no way out of this, but you stood your ground nonetheless.

“Eat shit,” you seethed. Rosier glowered at you, taking a few menacing steps forward. He grabbed your jaw firmly and you grit your teeth.

“I don’t think you heard me—”

He reeled back as you spit right in his face,

“You bitch,” he growled, wiping his face in disgust, “clearly no one ever bothered to train you.”

Without your wand you were really only left with one option, ready to defend yourself by revealing your animagus form, but you never got to take the first step forward.

“Imperio!”

You stopped in your tracks as a veil of what could only be described as pink fluff drifted over your mind. A smile immediately appeared on your face, and a giggle rose in your throat.

Severus looked at Rosier with horror, the rest of his crew looking among themselves uneasily.

“What do you think you're doing?” Snape hissed, “are you trying to get us all expelled?”

“So what?” Rosier said, “we've used the killing curse loads of times.”

“On insects, you loon,” Snape shot back, hoping his concern for you was masked enough.

“Don't worry, I'm not gonna hurt your precious (Y/n), Sev.”

The nickname made his stomach churn. You used to call him that. Lily used to call him that. No one else did. No one else got to.

“Release them,” he said, raising his wand, “now.”

“Put that away,” Rosier's eyes narrowed, a smirk sliding back onto his face as he got an idea, “hey, (Y/n)?”

“Yes?” you answered, your voice dripping with honey.

“I don't think Severus likes you being under this spell,” Rosier said, “but you like it don't you?”

“Mmm hmm,” you nodded, your head feeling like it was floating, “it feels so nice.”

“You know what else would feel nice?” Rosier goaded, “if you gave our friend Sev here a kiss.”

Severus' heart dropped to his stomach.

“You're sick, Rosier,” Snape said, his voice close to tremmoring.

“You don't have to act like you don't want it,” Evan chuckled, “we've watched you putz around (L/n) like a fool for years. Besides, they want to. Isn't that right, (Y/n)?”

“He's right,” you said, your voice deceptively melodic, “I love you, Severus. I've always loved you.”

And in that moment, Snape had never hated himself more. Because he didn't care that Rosier was making you say the things you did. He didn't care that you were under the influence of a curse. All he could hear was the words he longed to hear spill from your lips, over and over like a skipping record.

I love you, Severus. I love you, Severus. I love you, Severus.

He played the words on repeat in his head. His heart was beating almost painfully in his chest, so much so that he hardly even noticed you slowly walking towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck like Lily had done to James. And when you leaned forward to kiss him, his selfish desires held him in place.

It had lasted a fraction of a second, but he didn't pull away. It was the greatest regret of his life that he didn't walk up to Rosier, break his nose, and curse every single person in that clearing instead of doing nothing, knowing full well you had no control over your actions.

When his eyes drifted open and met yours and his stomach twisted into ugly knots, fear and panic wracking through his spine. Your eyes were completely empty, irises a vacant white, and in that moment it felt as if he were kissing a corpse.

Suddenly the color returned to your eyes, and fear immediately filled them. Snape grunted as he was shot away from you, unable to move when he hit the ground. The other Slytherins looked around for the assailant, but they had no time to react when every single one of their wands was pulled from their hands. McGonagall stood there, expression the same as ever but clearly brimming with fury.

“(L/n), come,” she said, ushering you over and taking you protectively in her embrace, “we'll get you to Madame Pomfrey.” Her eyes narrowed dangerously as she regarded Snape and the rest of their group, “As for you,” she said, “Mr Filch, secure them in the dungeons until the Headmaster calls for them. And put all of their wands in the lockbox.”

“With pleasure,” Filch said, almost blending in with the trees behind her.

“Are you alright?” McGonagall asked you as she helped you back towards the castle.

“No,” you said, honestly, “n-no, I don't think I am.”

“No amount of apology could ever equate to the remorse I feel that this happened to you, (L/n),” she said earnestly, “I am truly sorry. This was completely unacceptable, and I will see to it that the proper measures are taken for their punishments. Expulsion would suit just fine, but even if the Headmaster disagrees, I will personally ensure you never come into contact with any of those boys again.”

“Thank you,” you said, your voice sounding hollow in your own ears.

You didn't remember walking the near half-mile to the infirmary. Madame Pomfrey's words felt so far away, as if she were speaking underwater. You just remembered laying down in the hospital wing bed as she checked you for any lasting damage, and as soon as she'd turned her back you'd just wept.

________________________________________________________

That night, Snape found himself in the Prefect's bathroom, leaned over the sink and watching the water rush into the drain. His hands clutched the marble sides of the basin so hard his knuckles turned white, every breath catching painfully in his chest before he forced it out to take another shaky inhale. He was an idiot, he knew. There was no fixing this. Not really. First Lily, now you. Was he just predestined to lose everyone in his life?

He paused. No, he didn't deserve to think like that. Everything that had gone wrong was his own doing.

When he heard the door to the bathroom open he whipped around, ready to curse whoever dared to interrupt him until he saw you standing there, your eyes red from crying and the Marauder's Map clutched in your hands like a vice. He was half certain you were a hallucination, but as soon as he pulled himself to the present, he rushed to apologize. You had to know how horrible he felt about what he did, even if you would never forgive him. He made the mistake of being too cowardly to properly apologize to Lily, he wouldn't make that mistake again.

“(Y/n), I'm—”

“I know you're sorry,” you said callously, “and I know you mean it. That's not the issue.” you took a breath to collect yourself before you continued. This was so much harder than you thought it would be. Maybe this wound really was too fresh right now. You thought you'd be able to handle this conversation, but your prior feelings weren't making this any easier.

“Why did you do it?” you asked quietly, “Better, why did you do nothing? You were my friend, Severus.”

Whatever was holding back the flood of emotions in him, it snapped at your words.

Were. Past tense.

“I don't know what I was thinking,” Snape said in exasperation, though it came off more as anger directed at himself. His hands threaded through his messy black locks, his eyes nearly manic. You'd never seen him unravel quite like this. He was desperate to fix this, to keep you in his life. “No, I wasn't thinking at all, (Y/n). I couldn't, not when you were . . . not when I. . .”

Don't say it, don't say it, don't say it—

“Not when I've fancied you for years.”

Snape knew immediately that he had made a mistake. The expression on your face made his stomach twist, and he knew there was no taking back what he said.

“No,” you said, tears welling in your eyes, “Severus Snape, don't you dare say that. What, do you think that just makes this all okay? You're an oblivious idiot, you know that?”

Your heart ached so bad it felt as if you couldn't breathe.

“Do you know how many times I wished you would have kissed me?” you said shakily, not bothering to hide the hurt in your voice.

Snape was sure his breathing had stopped, eyes wide with shock. He couldn't have heard that right. Did you really feel the same way about him? But reality hit him in the face when he saw your expression. This was no heartfelt confession on your part.

“For you to just. . . for it to happen like that,” you said, still struck with betrayal and disbelief, “If you've ever respected me, you never would have let that happen. I was under a curse, Severus. And you took advantage of that— of me. All because you were too much of a coward to just tell me how you felt. And then you go on and say you've liked me this whole time as a last ditch effort to save our friendship? How the hell did you expect me to react?”

He had nothing to say to that. He blamed himself entirely. Every verbal blow you struck he gladly took, he would have sat there still as stone if you hexed him, but you refused to draw your wand at him. You just stood there, staring straight through him with unbelievable hurt in your eyes.

“I can't do this, Severus,” you said, “please, just. . . just leave me alone. I'm not saying I'll never forgive you, but right now I can't even begin to think about that. Not now.”

You looked like you wanted to say something more, but your mouth snapped shut, and Severus saw the finality in your eyes. He stayed glued to the spot where he stood long after he watched you leave, his eyes trained on the door you'd slammed shut.

If you thought Snape had made himself scarce after what he said to Lily, after what he did to you he practically vanished. He no longer sat underneath the tree that had become so symbolic of your former trio. He no longer roamed the Slytherin common room, or even the Great Hall for meals. Instead he would walk through the forbidden forest alone, or hole up in some empty corridor purposely hiding but hoping you would walk up to him. You never did.

The people who did find him in the few days that followed were the newly named Marauders, though incomplete as they arrived without you. As he glanced down at the parchment in Lupin's hand he had no questions about how they'd located him. Snape grimaced, not bothering to get up from his seat beneath the stone pillar. Anything they did to him was what he deserved.

James stepped forward from the group first. His expression was unreadable, but Snape saw the way his jaw was set firmly in place, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. The Slytherin had expected Potter to come at him guns blazing, sending a flurry of verbal attacks and hexes his way. However, James Potter simply stared down at his former enemy with a look that met in the intersection of barely contained anger and utter disappointment.

“You didn't deserve them,” he said coldly, his voice oddly level.

“I know,” Snape glared, but not feeling very self-righteous.

“No, you don't,” James said, his voice rising steadily, “you will never know what you put them through. You sat there while your lunatic friends used an Unforgivable Curse on them, and you took advantage of them. I don't care if you know, I'm going to throw it back in your face, because it's what you deserve.”

“I think it's clear that (Y/n) doesn't wish to speak with you any longer,” Remus said, “if for some inconceivable reason they want to in the future, they'll approach you. Don't you even think about going about it the other way around before they're ready and willing to talk. If they ever are.”

“It's settled, Severus,” James said simply, “you're officially not worth our time anymore.”

Snape blinked up at him, trying to recall a time when Potter had ever called him by his actual name.

“Don't get us wrong,” Sirius glared, “the only reason we aren't throwing you to the Womping Willow is because we know the last thing (Y/n) would want is her friends getting expelled because of them.”

“We'll leave you alone now,” Peter said grimly, “just like you've always wanted.”

And they were telling the truth. They left him completely alone, not speaking a word to him after that; 'they' now including you and Lily, which destroyed him more than any amount of bullying had before. He watched from afar as you grew closer and closer to the Marauders. . . no, you were a Marauder. It was only natural that you became almost like a family in your seventh year. You, James, Peter, Sirius, Remus, and Lily had become as inseparable as Snape thought you, him, and Lily were, but he'd ruined that. He had ruined every good thing that had ever happened to him and pushed away every important person in his life.

The last time he saw you was graduation day. Everyone was running around excitedly, dressed in the ceremonial jewel-toned robes of their respective houses as they awaited Dumbledore's speech. You had been sitting with your group as usual, now having carved out your own spot at the Gryffindor table, when you noticed that Snape was nowhere to be found.

You frowned, wondering why he of all people had to slip into your mind on a day like today.

“You alright, Fangs?”

Sirius' voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah, I'm fine. . .”

His handsome features contorted in concern, but that easy grin slid back onto his face as he nudged you with his shoulder.

“What, you worried you're gonna miss us?” he smirked, “this isn't goodbye, you know. We'll all see each other at the Order meetings—”

“Which you always seem to talk about at an extraordinary volume,” Remus shushed him pointedly. Sirius brushed him off with a roll of his eyes.

“(Y/n), are you sure nothing's wrong?” James asked from across the table.

“I'm alright, Prongs,” you said, “I just. . . you know what? I just remembered I left something in my dorm, I'll be right back.”

Your friends exchanged worried glances as you got up from the table, taking off towards the Slytherin common room. It wasn't a total lie, but your intentions went against your better judgment. After today there was a very, very good chance you would never see Severus again. What he did wasn't okay by any means, and it would take more than an apology or a simple conversation to forgive him, but you needed closure at the very least. Not for him, but for you. You deserved that much.

You swiped the map off your bedside table and opened it fully, your eyes quickly picking out Severus' name near the cellars only a few rooms away from where you were. You took off quickly down the hall, reaching the intersection where all the dungeon's corridors converged when you spotted him. Your heart stopped.

His left sleeve was rolled up to his elbow, as was the person's standing across from him, their back to you. Even though you couldn't see the second person's face, you recognized who it was immediately.

Evan Rosier.

He wasn't on the map before. . . how had he gotten in?! He'd been expelled after the day he cursed you. Did he somehow find a way to bypass the anti-apparition charm?

You felt your breathing hitch, fear creeping under your skin. There, on both of their arms, was a tattoo of a skull, a serpent weaving its way through the mouth and eye sockets in an undeniable pattern.  You stopped breathing all together. You knew Severus had fallen into the dark arts, but to actually be a death eater? To be proudly showing off that awful display of radicalism along with the person who had used an Unforgivable Curse on you, who had invaded your free will and taken over your body. . .

Severus must have felt you even from the opposite side of the hallway, because something pricking at his skin told him to look up, and when he did he wished he never had. You were looking at him for the first time in over a year, your eyes full of terror. Rosier followed his gaze, but when he looked over his shoulder there was no one there.

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

Severus sighed, trying to push the less than pleasant memories out of his head. He knew by now he was likely the last person left in the house besides you, Harry, and Sirius who were all staying here. Something like hope had sparked in his chest when he saw the faintest ghost of a smile on your lips as you saw him for the first time since graduation. He wanted to talk to you, to tell you he knew he deserved nothing from you, but he would spend the rest of his life trying to make it right if you would only give him a chance after all this time. In truth, he missed his friend. With Lily gone, you were one of the closest things he had to that left.

Against his better judgment, Severus made his way up the stairs, silent as a thestral as he headed for your room, but he stopped in his tracks when he reached the top. Sirius' door was cracked open the slightest bit, and what Snape saw inside made his blood run cold. You were sitting next to Sirius on his bed, your head resting gently on his shoulder. As you craned your neck to look Sirius in the eyes, that's when Severus saw it— the way the Marauder looked at you. The way his face seemed to light up, the spark that returned to his gray eyes, the utter adoration in them.

And just like that, Snape was a seventeen year old boy again, transported right back to that courtyard garden, watching Lily and James share their first kiss on the day he had made one of the biggest mistakes of his life. His heart shattered silently, though his departure was not so quiet as he took off down the stairs as quickly as he could. He grimaced at his own feelings, ones he knew he had no business owning.

As he was about to open the front door to leave, his instincts suddenly screamed at him to turn around, and he was just barely able to cast an invisibility charm as you began to come down the stairs. He held his breath as he looked at you. He knew he had no right to think so, but you were still beautiful like this; dressed in pajamas, hair disheveled, eyes still sightly puffy and red. He saw you look around, knowing you had no doubt heard his rather noisy descent of the staircase, and he cursed himself for not leaving sooner. Your eyes searched what should have appeared to be the empty space in front of you, but he saw you look him in the eyes, and he knew that you knew.

“Severus?” you called his name out softly, and the sound felt like a strike to his face.

He wanted nothing more than to say something to you, talk to you, hold you. But his mind flashed back to the way you had been with Sirius, and his words died in his throat. He said nothing, trying to remain unphased at your hurt expression as you turned around to walk back up the stairs. As soon as your back was turned to him, he left, unable to bring himself to do anything more.

Once again, he was too late.

Read chapter 8 here!

Taglist:  @sleep-i-ness, @blackpinkdolan, @parker-natasha, @ornella0910 @undertaker1827 @thatwierdo-koemi @nxstalgicnxbxdy @calaryssia @aleksanderwh0r3 @juggysgirlfriend @beautifulsweetschaos @kattirin @mialupin1 @crazy-obsessed-fangirl, @youcantbesirius​

[benevolentbirdgal]

Purim: a Jewish holiday and wild ride from start to finish

So let me tell you about the absolute soap opera that is the Jewish holiday of Purim. The scene is set in ancient (appx. 4th century B.C.E.) Persia during the first Jewish Diaspora, in the city of Shushan (typically identified in secular sources as Susa, a now-abandoned ancient city in what is now Iran). I’m telling you, as a work of literature (even beyond theological implications for Jewish people), this book has everything: love, drama, royalty, intrigue, ego, plots, irony, mystery, and a strong female lead. 

[some non-slur swearing below]

Ahasuerus, party-loving king of Persia executed or exiled (translations argue) his wife Vashti, and had to find a new queen. Why did he do this, you ask? Well, it really starts with an 180-day party across his kingdom for all his subjects to celebrate the third year of his reign. After that absolute rager, party-bro KA has another one immediately after for a week, this time just for the capital city of Shushan. Vashti was having a woman’s party in her quarters, presumably living her best life, when party-bro sends his top seven yes-men to deliver a message to Vashti. This sleaze-ball wants her to appear at his party in front of everyone, wearing her crown, with the clear implication being only her crown. Vashti more or less tells him to pound sand (I mean, not the literal translation, but that’s the sentiment). 

KA’s advisors convince him that this is not only an offense against the king but also against all the men in the country (ah, the joys of ancient patriarchy and toxic af masculinity). KA writes a degree that women must respect their husbands so he has an official reason to get rid of Vashti. Vashti is soon thereafter out of the picture and the king is short a queen. Whether she was a Wise Lady With A Point Who Got Screwed Over or a Vicious Jew-Hating Adulteress Who Had It Coming has been a matter of furious debate for over two millennia (the Babylonian Talmud and the Jerusalem Talmud vociferously disagree on her). In any case, KA regrets it pretty quick and wants a new queen. 

At the behest of his advisors (you know, since their last advice worked out soooooo well), KA had a big contest/forcible gathering of young women from around his kingdom and a Jewish woman, Hadassah, was the winner.  Hadassah was an orphan raised by her cousin Mordechai in the city of Shushan. Hadassah is more commonly known as Esther, because she changed her name to hide her identity as a Jew (at the behest of Mordechai). In any case, KA decided he liked Esther best and she became queen (it’s specifically mentioned both that he loved her most and that the palace staff liked her because she was nice to them-it’s unclear how much of an influence the latter was). 

Concurrently, a wicked man named Haman was the top advisor to the king and the king would basically rubber-stamp whatever Haman wanted. Haman was a raging Jew-hater-this will be relevant later. 

Some time into Esther’s reign as queen, Mordechai, who has taken to hanging around the gates of the palace to keep in touch with Esther, overhears a plot by two guards, Bigthan and Teresh, to kill the king. Mordechai alerts his cousin, and she tells the king. It’s recorded in the book of deeds and life keeps moving. 

Some time later, Haman decides (after a promotion to head lackey) that he wants all to bow to him as he passes. Mordechai refused to bow to Haman every single day (citing that as a Jew he bowed to no man), and that did not sit well with Haman. So despite being prime minister and presumably having more important things to do, “genocide the Jews” made it to the top of to-do list. He didn’t like them before, and Mordechai refusing to treat him like a special snowflake was something he took really, really personally (totally can’t think of any modern politicians like that, nope). He told KA, who frankly doesn’t seem to ask enough questions, that there was a people disrespecting the king and his laws throughout the land, and could he pretty-please exterminate them. As a bonus, Haman would “donate” 10,000 silver kikar to the royal treasury (modern conversion vary, but all agree this an absurd amount on money). 

KA handed him the royal seal to do so. Haman was feeling lucky I guess so he decided the best course of action was to draw lots to pick the day for the massacre. [Purim is lots in Hebrew, so that’s where the name of the holiday came from]. The message went out to all the provinces that on the thirteenth day of the twelfth month, that they citizens and leaders should murder all of the Jews, young and old, man, woman, and child, rich and poor and take their possessions as spoils. 

As this wasn’t exactly a state secret, the Jews knew and were quite distressed. The planned slaughter was like a year out, but what the actual fuck were they supposed to do? If you lived in Persia at that point that, the empire was functionally your entire world, unless you were fabulously/ridiculously wealthy and well-connected. Having several months notice the other locals and your rules were going to slaughter you and take your stuff isn’t particularly useful when there’s really nowhere to go. 

In Shushan, Mordechai (who, although not explicitly in text, is in oral/Talmudic tradition a leader of the Jewish community) goes into mourning. He dresses in sackcloth and ashes, he weeps, and he fasts at the gates of the palace, as Jews throughout shushan and the kingdom are doing. Esther hears of her cousin’s mourning behavior and tries to send along nice clothes through a messenger, which he refuses. It is then that she learns of the decree. Mordechai (through the messenger) implores her to go ask the king if the Jews not getting murdered could be a thing. Esther explains that she could be killed for approaching the king unsummoned. Mordechai stresses the severity of the situation. Esther agrees to ask the king and tells Mordechai to have the Shushan Jewish community fast day and night (as opposed to just day as prior) for three days, and she and her handmaidens will fast too (no word on what the handmaidens thought of this).

On the third day, Esther bravely approached the king, asked him if she could request something. He said anything, up to half his kingdom (which implies to me that homedude, for all his flaws, was actually into her). Esther invited him to a party, where he and Haman would be the only guests. At the party she asks if she can another request. KA is open to it and she invites him to another party the next night. Party-bro king is obviously down and Haman is tickled to death at this second invitation. 

He goes home to brag to his wife, Zeresh, about the invite and also to bitch about how angsty he is Mordechai is still alive (this angst reignited by passing him on the way home). Zeresh suggests he have fifty-foot gallows built to make Mordechai an example on, with the king’s permission, ASAP. Haman orders the building of the gallows, feeling secure in the knowledge that his bestie the king will execute Mordechai on them. 

Back at the castle KA can’t sleep. He demands a bedtime story from the his records, because those will presumably put him to sleep. The story that gets read, ~coincidentally~, is of Mordechai saving KA’s life. Haman had sidled on up to the castle to speak to the king about killing Mordechai, and the king called him in. KA asks Haman, if he were to honor someone, what should he do? Haman is thinking “this is obvi about me” and tells the king that the honoree should be donned in royal clothing, and ride through the streets on a fancy horse with people someone shouting how great he is. KA is like great, love it, perf, go do that for Mordechai. Haman is not a happy camper but does the thing. After that, he goes home and tells Zeresh about it, who warns him that this is a very bad sign. 

Finally, that night is the night of Esther’s second soiree. Haman and KA attend. The latter offers to Esther anything she wants, up to half of his kingdom. Esther asks that her life, and the life of her people be spared. KA is like “whomst” and Esther revealed it was Haman. At this point Ahasuerus.exe stops working and he takes a walk to the gardens. He comes back to see Haman begging Esther for his life, and KA thinks Haman is assaulting her. Haman was seized by nearby guards.

One of the chamberlains is then like, hey, KA, coincidentally there’s these super high gallows Haman just had built. Why not take care of the problem that way? (The fact that the random nearby chamberlain was like yup, that dude, hang ‘em in the morning, probably says a lot about how Haman treated most people around him, even more than forcing all to bow to him). KA orders it be done. 

Not that Haman was around to be sad about it, but what happened next would have massively pissed him off, as his old job then went to Mordechai. Esther then implored of the king that the degree to allow the massacre of the Jews be reversed. The king couldn’t Cntrl+Z the order to murder-all-the-Jews, but he could issue an order that they could fight back. The proclamation was sent throughout the land, and the Jews were able to prepare. Since the royal decree had been amended, the governments (princes, governors, satraps) largely reformulated their plans accordingly, but plenty of Jew-haters still wanted to use the opportunity. The ability to self-defend meant that the communities weren’t massacred. In most of the kingdom, the Jews were now safe. Outside of Shushan, the fourteenth of Adar became a feast day. 

Shushan was still not safe though. Antisemites were still out and mad (and apparently had not learned from the previous day), so Esther asked the Jews of Shushan to be allowed to defend themselves once more. Her wish was granted, and the Shushan Jews were able to defend themselves once more (so Purim is celebrated a day later in walled cities). 

The story ends with the decision to write it down, and although there some debate on authorship, it is traditionally attributed to Esther herself cowriting with Mordechai. 

Nowhere in the book is God mentioned. Nowhere is there divine intervention (at least not explicitly). Just Jews sticking up for themselves, being brave in the face of mortal peril, and a metric fucktown of chutzpah. 

[palaceofpassion]

Dom Weiss!

So Weiss is totally a bottom, but have her being a dom for once!

Weiss could only smile as she looked down upon her victim, a strapping young lad bound to the floor below her.  He was clad in nothing but a black leather collar and tight… oh so tight latex speedo that… well it accentuated his figure quite well.  Their arms and legs spread wide, a golden ball gag forced into their mouth to prevent them from… screaming.  It had taken a lot to get here, but here she was.  “You’ve been a very bad boy… you know that don’t you?”  

The only response she received was a gurgle of gagged muffles and restrained attempts of fleeing.  Oh how much joy this brought her!  For once SHE was in control, no longer at the beck and call of her… friends.  She finally held power over someone else, power that she RIGHTFULLY deserved.  So, she was going to make the absolute best of it, make use of the time she had.  

She’d prepared long and hard for this, had gone out of her way to find the best clothes, had even… shamefully put her name out there in order to get these… custom designed.  

She had to admit she quite liked leather, the dark material accentuated her slim pale form quite well if she had the say so.  The harness and garter belts had been the hardest to come by since she was… petite.  That was the word she’d use, and the only word anyone else would if they knew what was good for them.  

Well she digressed, she was getting quite off topic.  Turning her attention back to the boy… no the man below her she couldn’t help but flash her pearly whites.  “Aren’t I fabulous in this?  Gorgeous even, you should feel proud of yourself that… that a lowly peasant such as yourself would be allowed to gaze upon my visage… truly you are blessed.”  

When there was no response she simply gazed down at the tall… muscular… figure below her.  Gnashing her teeth her grip grew tight around the riding crop in hand.  With a loud smack, one that proved to be more sound than impact, she forced the boy’s attention to herself.  “I said, aren’t you the lucky one?  You understand your position do you not… peasant?”  

“Uhhuuuh.”  Was the muffled response she received.  Her icey blue gaze fell upon him.

“I don’t think you do…”  Stepping forward onto the platform that the young man found himself bound.  She placed her glossy black heels upon his stomach.  “Must I discipline you?  Do you truly not understand how… fortunate you are to be in this situation.”  

Once more she received no response, instead she noticed the… mongrel… staring at her long thin pale legs.  “You do not!”  Applying force upon his stomach she dug the pointed end of the heel down.  She smiled as she watched him squirm beneath her heel, yes this was where he belonged where EVERYONE belonged!  Placing her hand below her chin she couldn’t help but have herself a gleeful laugh, “O~hohoho!”  She was in true control, and there was nothing he nor anybody could do about it.

When he didn’t respond again she applied more pressure, as he squirmed below her like the worm he was, she couldn’t help but shudder.  Excitement building inside of her core as she really let the dominance of the situation sink in.  She could do anything to him, anything she wanted… so why shouldn’t she?  She was about to step off of him when her eyes fell upon his nether regions.  “I see at least one part of you was paying attention…”  With a quick smack she slapped the tip of her crop against his bulging manhood.  As he flinched under the slam she could only bite her lip in an attempt to control her own excitement.  Removing her foot from the man below her she stepped around, coming between his legs.

“This… disgusting thing…”  With another loud slap she gave it another good smack, the bulge twitched beneath his minimalist clothing, if one could even call it clothing.  Once more she gave it another smack causing him to twitch, “This is the only worth you have~  The only thing that gives me a reason to keep you.”  With a flick of her fingers the thin material came undone, revealing to her his throbbing shaft.  

“It’s disgusting… unsightly… yet it gives you worth… if I could find a better one I’d have no need for you.”  She heard a sound coming from his gagged mouth but she could neither make it out nor care.  She was in charge, her pet had no say in the matter.  

“Though… I suppose you could do your best and properly give the service that I require.”  Licking her lips she moved closer, pulling down on a zipper located in her own lower region she revealed her glistening slit already moist in anticipation.  With practiced patience she slipped her hand into her braided hair and with a single tug she pulled upon a silver ribbon.  One that would have otherwise gone unnoticed had she not pulled it from her own icey silvery hair.  

“I’m going to enjoy myself, so try not to ruin my fun… would you?”  She waited for no response as she began to tie the ribbon around the base of his thick heavy rod.  Tying a perfect little bow she made sure to give it a tug making sure that he wouldn't be able to cum unless she gave him the say so.

With her machinations finished she moved upwards, finally getting to the meat of the night.  Pressing her already slick slit against his throbbing manhood she let herself go.  In one fell plunge she took his mighty manmeat all the way down to the base.  Closing her eyes she allowed herself a moment as her body shivered in ecstasy.  “Ahn!  Tru...truly!  The only good thing about you is this… this monster of a cock!”  She could feel her toes curl in her dark black stockings as she took the moment to catch her breath.  

“Move.”  When he didn’t she simply stared at him, if he was going to be difficult… well she had a plan for that.  Leaning forward she pressed her nails across his broad chest.  “I said move…”  Once more he didn’t comply, “I see… you are such a disgusting masochistic pig.”  With what started as a gentle streak, she moved her fingers down his chest.  With every centimeter she began to apply more and more force till she could see his flesh grow red as her well manicured nails dug into his flesh.  

She stopped just before the point of drawing blood, “Now move!”  And this time he did, his hips bucked against their restraints as she felt her body pop into the air.  His mighty thrust nearly took the air out of her lungs as it had taken her by surprise.  “GOOD GOOD!”  Heat consumed her core as he continued to buck widely, using his uselessly stupid strength to bounce her up and down his shaft with out the need of his hands.  

She couldn’t help but close her eyes and wrap her nails around his thighs as he continued to slam himself in and out of her.  “MMMN!”  He hit her every which way, his mighty cock slammed into her walls, pressing against her womb over and over as he continued to batter into her small form.  He was so much bigger than her, her small figure shouldn’t have been able to contain such a… such a massive thing!  

But practice after practice had gotten her to this point, and she wasn’t going to let down.  Forgetting herself for a moment she couldn't help but rock her hips back and forth.  His cock wiggled and bounced inside of her, slamming into her walls and pressing against her depths in no way any other cock could.  “SCHOO GOOD!”  Loud moans escaped her lips as he continued his advantage, but she wouldn’t let him have it for long!  

Burying her nails into his legs she made sure to find herself stable.  “FASTER!  FASTER YOU FILTHY PIG!”  His hips bucked harder, the tip of his massive rod slamming into her womb nearly forcing it wide open.  “NNNGH!  IS THAT ALL YOU GOT?!  MY FATHER WAS RIGHT YOU’RE USELESS!”  Faster and harder, over and over he slammed into her, she heard the restraints on the ground break as he continued to struggle to remove himself.  “PATHETIC!  I BET MARROW WOULD BE BETTER!”  That had nearly done it, he’d slammed into her so hard that she’d nearly bounced right off his dick.  

The thrust had been hard enough to send her over the edge, her climax hitting harder than ever before.  She felt her pussy spasm as her juices flowed between their bodies.  “Good good!”  She could barely speak but she needed to keep this up.  She could feel him twitching inside of her, begging for release, “You deserve a reward~”  Slipping her fingers around the ribbon beneath her she pulled it apart. 

Her womb was flooded with his thick hot seed, her toes curled as the sensation of being filled overtook everything else.  Finally he’d stopped bucking his own strength exhausted from his wild attempts.  “Good… good…”  

Once the post orgasm clarity hit, she felt her face burn hot.  “Oh!  Oh!  No no!”  Quickly she bent over, reaching for the gag on the boy's mouth then removing his restraints.  “Jaune!  I’m sorry, I didn’t hurt you did I?”

“Hah… hah… ha…”  The boy's breathing was ragged, obviously exhausted from the wild night.  “Not physically…”  She grew nervous at the pause, “You didn’t mean any of that did you?”  

She in fact had not!  This had been their first attempt at BDSM, at the behest of Blake, who’d lent her a book.  “No!  No no!  I love you my knight!  I promise you none of that was real.  I just… uhm.”  She could practically feel the crimson on her face, “Got really into it.”  

“Ah… okay…”  Instinctually she pressed her lips across her one and only knight.  

“I promise.  I love you and only you, and Marrow would definitely not be better.”  

“Okay cool.”  

“So… did you have fun.”

He paused, “Yeah… yeah I did.”  

“Can… can we do this another time?”  

“Yeah… yeah I’d be fine with that.  Just Weiss?”

“Yes my Knight?”  She felt herself being pulled towards him and then flipped on her back.

“You’ve been a naughty bandit… and as a Knight… well I have to make sure that you’ve been properly disciplined.”  She gulped at the predatory glance he passed her way.

“... please.”  Tonight was going to be a long one.

[everythingsinred]

Let's Talk About NatsuMikan: Natsume (pt. 24)

Hello, friends. The story is rapidly approaching an end. I imagine I'll only be posting for another couple weeks (maybe three at the most) before this essay draws to a close.

Last night we wrapped up the Time Travel Arc. Now we return to the larger parent arc, the Escape Arc. Mikan has made up her mind to escape the school with her mother, and although this breaks Natsume's heart, he'll do all he can to get her out safely without at all complaining. If she's leaving for good, then the only thing that matters to him for the next little bit is keeping her as safe as possible. After that, he's resigned himself to a lonely and imminent death... And then Mikan has an epiphany.

Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Four

They’re finally all back in the present. The room they left is now empty, and they wonder what happened. Undoubtedly the situation is more pressing than ever.

Mikan is concerned about everyone’s safety, but Natsume makes it clear that the priority is making sure she can make it out of the academy with her mother. If she’s going to leave, then he will do everything he can to make sure the process goes as smoothly and safely for her as possible. Her concerns about everyone else have no place here when everyone’s dreams and futures are threatened by the ESP if he ever gets his hands on Mikan’s alices. Besides, his happiness and safety always come dead last to him. He’d act and speak this way, even if it was only Mikan’s well-being on the line.

He will protect her no matter what happens, he says. That’s his priority. This is no different than the way he’s been living for the last year or so.

Yeah, there's the whole thing with the school and protecting the student body and stopping the ESP but Mikan is his priority always.

Everyone else agrees, and Mikan is outvoted. She comes first now.

Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Seven

Mikan and her friends run into a horde of students, either controlled by Luna’s alice or afraid that they’ll end up being controlled or punished. They all move to attack Mikan in particular, to capture her because maybe they’ll even be rewarded for it.

This is a mistake, because Natsume will not allow anything to happen to her. He uses his alice to fend off the students, but his fire takes a strange shape, unlike anything he’s ever made before. His ability to manipulate the shape better than ever is a result of the stone Mikan inserted into him, which Tsubasa theorizes is psychokinesis.

Ruka pleads with him to stop, concerned about Natsume’s health the more he uses his alice. He immediately stops on the behest of his best friend, but then he uses his new alice to pull everyone over closer to him. Mikan specifically flies into his arms, where he wanted her. He’s able to catch her, whereas the others land on their heads. Now that they’re safer, he tells her to teleport them.

Who cares where the rest of them land? They can deal with it on their own.

Tsubasa comments that this extra power makes Natsume feel like more of a man, more powerful. This isn’t a farfetched theory. We know how much Natsume wants to grow up, to have power. Now that he has this extra alice, he’s more useful than he already was, and that naturally translates into some extra confidence.

Another thing is that Natsume is putting his all into getting Mikan out safe. He’s willing to expend all his energy and alice in order to accomplish his goal. Adding on to that, he knows he won’t see her again after this. He can hold on for a little longer, but to survive the unknowable amount of years before he can see her again? Unlikely. He doubted he’d even be able to graduate, let alone be on standby for possibly a decade and maybe even more. He has no reason to believe he’ll make it. So he keeps her close now. He’ll be right by her side ‘til the very end, take advantage of every touch and interaction he can. So even if everyone else collapses onto the ground after he uses his extra alice, Mikan will land safely in his arms.

Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Nine

Natsume may have spared Nobara earlier, but he still doesn’t really trust her. She’s been acting weird this whole time and he’s suspicious. When they have a moment, he confronts her, warning her that if she sells them out to Persona, he won’t go easy on her. After all, to him, she’s still the girl who’s always been Persona’s little pet.

But Nobara doesn’t want to sell them out. She wants to stop Persona and her DA friends from hurting the cause and themselves. She wants to stop them so they don’t become a part of the fight.

She stands back so she doesn’t teleport again with the rest of them. She wants to do this for Mikan.

Mikan doesn’t understand. She’s concerned that she left Nobara behind, so she says she’ll go back to get her, but Natsume stops her. She needs to allow Nobara to make her own choice. Even if Mikan doesn’t get it, the only thing that matters is their original mission. Nothing will change that. He won’t be strayed from it, no matter what obstacles come their way. Nobara made the choice, and she’s the best person to confront the DA class. The rest of them should allow her to do as she wants.

They move forward, and Natsume keeps back when he feels his coughing fit coming on. Now that everything is dire, he definitely doesn’t want to slow things down by worrying people with his body. He worries that he won’t be able to properly protect Mikan, considering the shape he’s in, but he would never say that out loud.

Death creeps ever closer... Why isn't he ever concerned for himself?

Even more, Nobara stressed before she left that Natsume was the most important person to stay by Mikan's side, that he should protect her to the end. Though he wouldn't be so bold to say that about himself, he wants to stay 'til the end. But the fact that he might die at any moment doesn't reassure him. However, any insecurities or fears he has must stay in his mind. He wants to be strong for Mikan, to accomplish their goal and keep her safe. He’s pushed any and all feelings of his own out the window. All that matters is their goal.

He can die afterwards.

Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Four

Mikan needs to go to her mother. She and Ruka are to teleport to Yuka, since Ruka has the barrier alice and he can keep her safe. The rest of them are going to hold off the Fuukitai and other enemies. There’s really no time for heartfelt goodbyes. Natsume might never see Mikan again, but he turns away because there’s no time for anything else. He will fight off the enemies to keep her safe. That’s what he can do. Anything else will just waste precious time.

Except that Mikan has the telepathy alice now. She’s mostly kept it a secret, sharing it with Hotaru and nobody else.

Natsume can stay silent all he wants, but his heart and mind are racing with thoughts and feelings. She couldn’t ignore it if she wanted to. It’s not the time to be lollygagging. She has to get going, and everyone is urging her to move on and teleport with Ruka, but she’s hesitating.

And then Natsume hears it too. She’s saying it back, telepathically, that she loves him too.

Terrible timing, Mikan. You had all night to say it back! (joking)

It’s all he’s never allowed himself to want to hear. Something that would only happen in a delusional fantasy world. Mikan may care about him, to some degree, but he’d never expected she would love him back. She should love Ruka, who is kind and polite, or literally anybody else. He’s always had to push her away, and even if she saw through his insults to see what he really meant, he still wouldn’t be good enough. He can’t be with her, because his life is running out. He shouldn’t be with her, because all he will do is cause her more pain. He’ll never be with her, because he doesn’t deserve to be. He won’t be with her, because she’s running away with her mother and he’ll never see her again.

But she loves him too anyway.

Despite every insult and attempt to keep his distance. Despite their beginnings of mutual disdain. Despite how he’s said he hated everything about her, about how he wanted her out of his sight. Despite acting like she was a pest and nothing more than an annoyance. Despite everything he did, she somehow still loves him.

It’s the worst thing to ever happen to him, to stand there and hear her saying that in his mind and then watch her disappear forever.

He’s said it out loud only one time. He confessed with his kiss at Christmas, with his alice stone, with the borrowing race, with his speech to the ESP. He’s confessed with every time he got in front of her to protect her, with every cruel word forced out of him by the higher ups, with every smile he had just for her.

Now she finally said it back and it’s too late for anything. He can’t kiss her and show her how much he means it, how much it isn’t just hype over nothing. He can’t tell her he loves her to her face and with his whole chest. He can’t take her by the hand and run away with her. He can’t live happily ever after with her.

That was all okay before, when it was just him who was suffering. So his life would be lonely and short. Okay. Who cares? But now he knows she wants all that too.

He’s miserable. He calls out to her but it’s too late. She’s gone now and all he can do is fight the enemies who want to threaten her security.

Natsume has been left behind with Tono and Tsubasa to fight as hard as they can against the Fuukitai. When they finally get away for a moment, Tono tells them to fight for the girls they love. Tsubasa and Natsume both berate him for this, because who was he talking about? Tono argues it wasn’t about him; he was just trying to cheer the two up after they had to break apart from their girls.

Natsume is clearly in emotional turmoil, but he frequently is, so he doesn’t let it show a lot. He may threaten Tono with his alice or tease him with Tsubasa like all is normal, but it’s not. His current circumstances couldn’t be any worse unless Mikan were in danger, and he’s doing everything he can to keep that from happening.

Tono finally admits that he’s been nervous this whole time because Noda is probably the traitor among them, but Natsume realizes the truth: It’s Goshima.

Tsubasa and Tono are going to try and find Goshima, who has the key Yuka and Mikan need to escape. They also need someone to go and tell them that Goshima can’t be trusted, and Tono wants Natsume to do it.

Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Five

Tono is urging Natsume to go and tell Mikan about Goshima, to go protect her. Naturally, he doesn’t hesitate before taking off. Any excuse to see her again and keep her safe is enough for him.

Tsubasa doesn’t understand why Tono sent him off, though, since Natsume is in such bad shape. Having him run and exert himself further seems wrong.

I just want him to be happy. Is that really so much to ask?

Tono puts it all into perspective. It had to be Natsume. The kid was in a state of absolute misery, even knowing his love is requited and perhaps because of it. He can never see Mikan again. His life will end. The rest of them can talk about decades and decades into the future and still be sure that they will meet Mikan again, but it’s clear that Natsume won’t make it that far. As Tono puts it, it’s important that Natsume has a chance to see her for the last time, to say good-bye properly.

Natsume would go to her no matter what, too, and he does, running with all his might to find her, even though he’s coughing and his body is breaking.

He will use his alice and do anything he can to find her and tell her and keep her safe, and they finally meet again.

He’s standing over the bodies of enemies that he’s just defeated for her, and he finally has a chance to say the good-bye he thought he’d never get.

There are other things that need to be said, but he might not have a chance to say his feelings again if he doesn’t take the opportunity now. He’s sad, because no matter what, their story will end soon. But this is more than he could’ve asked for.

But all of the words that should come out of his mouth don’t. He doesn’t talk about the traitor. He doesn’t tell her he loves her to her face. He doesn’t say anything except her name. None of the feelings he has can be put into words. For the moment he’s speechless.

She is too. She rushes into his arms and they share a quick second of holding each other before they inevitably part forever. The fact that she hugs him might have reminded him that she loves him too. Then again, how could he forget? Either way, he finds the words that were lost to him before.

He’s going to stay with her until the very last second. He won’t leave her or part from her for even a moment again until they have to say good-bye for good.

No, they won't last. She'll leave and he'll die, but they have this moment, even if it's the only thing they'll ever have.

No, he doesn’t mention the traitor even though he was sent to. Natsume very rarely talks about his feelings, but they felt so important this time that he had to say them out loud.

Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Six

Even though Natsume didn’t say it to Mikan, Shiki got the information from him via telepathy and then conveyed the information to Yuka.

Now that Yuka and Mikan are reunited, they can all go to see them off, fighting Fuukitai and Luna along the way. Narumi and Mikan are trapped in an enemy’s ice alice for a moment, until Natsume melts the ice and takes Mikan’s hand. He wasn’t joking about staying by her side until the very end.

Until the very last moment.

Sure, she needed to reunite with her mother and Narumi, but they’ll be spending forever with her after this night. He only has these next few minutes. He’ll be the one to take her by the hand until he has no choice but to let go. Until then, he will stay by her side.

Lucky for them, Yuka’s plan to wait until the last moment for the key so they can leave with Naru panned out. “Tsubasa” arrives with the key and hands it off. There’s no time to waste; Yuka rushes to open the warp-hole but all that comes from it is an explosion.

Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Seven

Yuka and Narumi were caught in the blast. Yuka shielded Narumi with her body and took the brunt of the hit. She’s now in critical condition.

No hesitation. That's his only keepsake from his mother, his only reprieve from endless pain, but he'll give it Yuka because he can't not give it to her.

Natsume doesn’t hesitate, and he gives Mikan the healing alice stone that his mother got from Yuka. Yuka is Mikan’s mother. Her death would be crushing for Mikan, who’s already had to face so much trauma from watching her father die too. This all was about getting Mikan and Yuka out safely, and all that effort would be in vain if Yuka dies. And after Natsume has seen everything that happened in the past, he respects Yuka too. All Yuka has ever done is suffer, just like he has. To simply die after all that--he doesn’t want that either. Yuka gave his mother that alice stone, something that brought him a little reprieve whenever he had a coughing fit or felt ill. The least he can do now is give it back.

But it doesn’t work. It’s not enough. Yuka has enough time before her death to hug Mikan and apologize to Luna, but then her heart stops.

Chapter One Hundred and Thirty-Eight

The ESP arrives to break the period of mourning. Luna can’t believe that he would orchestrate this, but it’s not much of a surprise to anyone else. The “Tsubasa” decoy reveals himself to be Goshima, who holds Mikan by the wrists. The ESP only needed one person with the stealing alice. Yuka had become extendable, so he eliminated her.

Goshima goes to surrender Mikan to the ESP, but she fights, and Natsume moves to fight too, because that’s his girlfriend and he promised he would keep her safe. But the ESP always has the barrier alice cast on him, always protected, even from Natsume’s strong alice. Even Natsume can’t help Mikan now.

But Shiki breaks the ESP’s barrier and Mikan rushes to her friends’ side.

Z is invading the school and threatening to take the students captive. The MSP needs her successor, Shiki to be appointed so that he can protect the school with his barrier alice. The ESP is in a bind. Shiki can either run away with Mikan as Yuka had intended to, or he will agree to stay and act as the MSP to protect the school.

Conclusion

God this arc is a mess when all you want are the NM moments. How dare they be so scattered! Anyways, Natsume now knows that Mikan loves him too, romantically, but everything has been upside down for a while, specifically tonight, so the future doesn't look bright. In the next part, we'll talk about how Natsume feels about being separated from Mikan when she's locked away.

Sorry this is late. I'm not in a fantastic mood today which affected my motivation. I shoved a bunch of content in here and it might be too much. I don't know. There wasn't a clear way I could cut it into multiple parts without them being choppy and short as hell. I just wanted to get to the next part because this arc was stressing me out.

In any case, I feel like crap right now emotionally, because this day was very draining. I'll try to post tomorrow at a reasonable time. Thank you for reading.

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[thedevillionaire]

The Twentieth

Okay. ~5,000 words of Underworldian stuff that happens. Well, primarily one thing, really, but not all at the same time. Sort of. Ask me anything, thank you so very much for reading, and...well, here we go.

--- This was not at all how he’d planned for the day of their anniversary to unfold.

In the back of his mind, in corners he’d quite deliberately not lingered for a moment longer than absolutely necessary, he’d known that trouble was possibly oncoming as early as the night before last, the descending fog of nascent illness as recognisable as it was unwelcome. But it had been…at least a year, perhaps close to two, since he’d last felt this way, and he was hoping that he was wrong, and that what were seeming like potential signs of bad news weren’t actually signs at all.

They were.

Cerberus sniffled.

It wasn’t supposed to go like this. He’d tried, he really had. Discounting those signs as unimportant even as he took precautions because of them, he’d risked nothing, pushed his luck with nothing. He’d even gone to bed several hours earlier than usual last night, and fallen asleep almost immediately on top of that. Unlike his bonded, who’d had a late night and come home at some uncertain hour from one of those social catch-up things she so enjoyed that he was…less inclined towards, even in times when he was feeling entirely well – not that he’d given that as the reason for his disinclination to participate, of course.

Hardly relevant, anyway.

And he’d slept soundly enough that he’d not woken to notice her join him – in fact, he’d been so sapped of energy that from the moment the warmth of the hearth and bedcovers enveloped him, he was out – which just made it all the more ominous that he’d woken feeling like he’d got no rest at all, bone-tired as if no respite had been granted, with a constant, dull headache that so far had refused to resolve, and yesterday’s mild discomfort at the back of his throat sharpening significantly into an active and intrusive concern.

Getting caught in that ridiculous downpour on the way here wouldn’t have helped matters either, he thought bitterly. Although brief, it had been intense, and sudden, and heavy, and though the mercy of Teleport could not have been a more welcome escape, the short time spent in headblurry indecision about whether or not he should utilise it had nonetheless been long enough that his coat had been soaked through. The refuge of the radiant heat of his Office was helping somewhat, at least, and most of his clothing had dried by now – though his hair, which he’d tied back with a loose bow of slender black velvet ribbon to keep errant strands from his face, was still noticeably and uncomfortably damp against his neck. Less so than had he left it unbound, but still…

If he’d ever regretted choosing to walk rather than taking the lazy option before – gods, the damn irony of thinking that the walk would possibly benefit him tonight, of all things – he was sure he’d not regretted it as much as he did right now.

He sniffled again.

Fuck.

---

Closing the folder of Requiem’s surprisingly competently done assignment, he sighed and added it to the small stack of completed works, vaguely wondering if he’d been too generous with the grading. Although he knew the content backwards and could in fact get away with paying very little serious attention, his mind was nevertheless, for the most part, almost entirely on other things.

This was supposed to be the night where, once respective regular mundanities and commitments were out of the way, he would take his beloved to indulge in whichever of the things she most loved to indulge in while on a Visit, utterly at her behest, and completely guilt-free for her with no mandated set goal to achieve, no limitations on immersion, no regulations at all; just an unscheduled and spontaneous trip to the mortal plane, a high-end cocktail bar all dress codes and decadence, and a veritable array of delicious, oblivious Takings there for her pleasure – ahh, darkling, a smorgasbord! – all eyes upon her because nobody, not in the Underworld and certainly no mortal, can compare, and despite his usual personal antipathy towards bothering with the mortal realm, he knew of certain excellences all the same, and he’d put his own preferences aside and simply present her with the glories and spoils she deserved, watch her dance from the shadows and delight in it.

Darkling, I will give you the world.

He’d had every intention of doing precisely that.

And it was also really starting to feel like he was definitely not going to…not going to let this happen, damn it. You’ll be fine, stop putting unnecessary emphasis on transient discomfort, it’s nothing, you know these things pass, just…

He sniffled again, more sharply this time, claimed another tissue and blew his nose, trying to disregard how doing so did nothing much to stop the continuing drip and irritation.

Just get on with it. Honestly. Vaporising the tissue, he took another sip of the honeyed tea that wasn’t doing nearly as much to counteract the sting in his throat as he’d hoped it would, and returned his attention to the job at hand. He noted with distaste as he opened the new folder that yet again it seemed that Hellion hadn’t bothered to proofread the simplest of…

Oh gods.

His breath caught, thoughts ceased, focus helplessly crumbling.

“Hh-hh…”

He rolled his eyes at the inevitability of it, and grabbed another tissue, and another, as the insistent need made itself unstoppably and urgently known.

“Hh-TSCHH-uu! *snff!* Huh-TSSCHH-uu!”

Therion, across the room and in the midst of cataloguing a stupidly confusing array of recently rediscovered and yet unsorted secondgen scrolls, glanced back over his shoulder at Cerberus briefly. “Gesundheit,” he commented offhand, not remotely surprised by this development. Given the constant sniffling that had been going on for the last couple of hours or so, he’d pretty much been expecting that to happen sooner or later. No matter how infrequently the Demon king may catch cold, symptoms were symptoms. Sounding like shit there, boss, he thought, but decided against voicing it.

Cerberus managed a quick thankyou before the demanding urge once again overtook him, and he inhaled deeply, desperately, the force of the sneeze almost doubling him over.

“hhh-AHHTSSCHHUU!”

Therion glanced over again. “You okay, man?”

Cerberus, with a strong sniffle, cleared his throat and made an incidental sound of dismissal. “Mm, fine,” he murmured, which he knew at this point was a complete lie, his head pounding. “Pardon me.” He blew his nose, sniffling again immediately. Ugh. “It’s, um…it’s nothing.”

He returned his attention to Hellion’s paper.

It was, however, no matter his assurance, becoming undeniably something.

Fuck.

---

The hours had somehow simultaneously dragged and flown by, some goals achieved, others – and, to be honest, the ones he’d most been counting on – unfortunately not so.

Cerberus sighed heavily, put aside the last of the assignments he’d reviewed, and, having had quite enough of honeyed tea for one day, poured himself a substantial glass of cognac from the decanter on his desk.

On the plus side, he’d got through a decent amount of the papers, all things considered. On the minus, though, his oncoming cold, rather than resolving into the insignificance he’d hoped for, had instead settled in undeniably, pouring into his head like cement, and he pressed the back of his hand firmly against his nose with enough force for pain to overtake irritation. He vaporised yet another bunch of used tissues, sniffling again, and tried to take his mind off Kia and what she might be thinking, expecting, dreaming, anticipating…

..and what he feared he was not going be able to deliver.

Acceptance of such, however, was still not something he was willing to entertain quite yet.

Damn it, it’s one night. Surely you can at least delay this ridiculousness for one more night. With a lengthy, determined sniffle and heavy exhalation, Cerberus, elbow on desk and hand against forehead, lost himself in a mix of annoyance and self-pity for a moment before an intense rising fury at the situation overtook it, and he frowned, sat up straighter, and drained the glass of cognac entirely.

Do. Better.

With a brief shake of his head, he rubbed his nose and opened the next assignment in the pile, read the name. Ah, Cenotaph, he noted with a slight satisfaction. Shouldn’t be dreadful. Although he nearly always…

His thoughts were jarringly interrupted by the intrusive ring of the telephone, and despite him dearly wishing he could palm this off to Therion, the phone was on the desk, and proximity demanded he be the one to answer. And to make matters worse – apparently that’s possible, and of course it is – he could feel the rising, inexorable need to sneeze again.

No. This is not happening. Just… The idea of being defeated by such a simple, base physical weakness infuriating, he sniffled with sharp determination, crushing a hand clutching a tissue against his nose, and answered the call.

“Demonics.”

Aera took a moment. “Cerbie? Okay, wow. What are you doing in Office?”

I…work here? Cerberus couldn’t quite parse what her intention was, what sort of answer she was expecting. Was that rhetorical, or…? “I don’t… What do you…” He sniffled again, his breath catching momentarily, but he fought the urge back once more, and tried to concentrate on the matter at hand. “What?”

“‘Debodics’,” Aera said in mimicry of the congestion destroying his consonants, her tone flippant and biting at the same time.

Frowning in annoyance, his patience worn thin enough as it was, and in no mood to engage, Cerberus snarled a curt, “I’m fine,” and wiped his nose.

Aera scoffed. “You’re seriously going the denial route? Hate to break it to you, but you sure don’t sound fine.”

“Do you have a point?” Cerberus asked tersely, internally cursing his inability to comprehensively prove her wrong – not that she was necessarily wrong, but that was hardly the issue.

“Godssake, Cerbie, you’re such a…” Aera began, but recognised she was probably wasting her time and decided to just let it go. She knew his pattern with this sort of thing, and so she backed off a little – though by no means completely. “Okay, fine, alright, I could be wrong, maybe you’re not sick after all. So, you know, if you’ve been crying or punched in the face or something, go right ahead and clear that up for me.”

Cerberus, exasperated and increasingly distracted, just wanted an end to it all. “Damn it, Aera, can you please try to tear yourself away from the apparently fascinating state of my health for a moment and just tell me what the hell it is you want? *snf!* And you could be a bit more pleasant to me, you know,” he added pointedly. “It is my anniversary, after all.”

Aera gasped lightly in realisation, the date having escaped her notice completely. “Oh, shit, it is too! Ah, fuck, sorry, happy anniversary. But, no, anyway, this call does actually have a point. I think I might have left a scarf in your Office yesterday. Do you have it? It’s blue.”

You couldn’t have just asked that immediately? Cerberus glanced around the Office perfunctorily, not seeing anything of the kind. “N…” His breath caught again and he scrubbed his hand roughly under his nose, sniffling sharply, and took a moment before trusting himself enough to answer her. “No.”

“Really? What the hell have I done with it, then?” Aera wondered, partially to Cerberus but mostly to herself, before returning her attention to the conversation at hand. “Oh, and bless you.”

“What?” Cerberus frowned in confusion, his head clouded enough that he wasn’t entirely certain that he hadn’t missed or forgotten something that surely he ought not to have been able to miss or forget. “I…I didn’t sneeze.” It was…inescapably true that he needed to, but he’d not…

Aera chuckled briefly, quietly. “You will.”

She hung up.

The freedom afforded him by that disconnection, one staggered, desperate inhale was all it took. And in the moment, he didn’t even care that she’d been right. At this point he just wanted relief.

“hh-HH… Ahh-HEHTSSHhuu!”

“Gesundheit,” said Therion again, smiling grimly to himself. He usually minded his own business about this sort of thing – not that it came up much – and indeed still considered staying out of it altogether now. But he hadn’t known about the anniversary factor before, and playing substitute Leader for a few days was hardly the worst fate in the world, and if not tonight it was almost certainly going to come to that fate soon enough anyway, so…

He put the scrolls aside, walking over to stand opposite where Cerberus was seated at the desk. “Hey, man…”

“Huh-AHSSCHuu! *snf!*” Cerberus groaned. “Gods. Excuse me,” he murmured with a heavy sigh, his head and sinuses throbbing. He sniffled wetly, blew his nose, excused himself again, and looked up at Therion somewhat hazily. “Mm?”

Therion half-smiled, casual, non-committal. “Happy anniversary, dude. Didn’t mean to listen in or anything, just…you know. Overheard.”

A small smile of appreciative thanks crossing his face, Cerberus sniffled again and nodded in otherwise silent acknowledgement.

“Just a thought, though,” Therion continued. “If I had a choice between going home to my mad-hot bonded… How many years now, man?”

A heartbeat. An eternity.

“Twenty.”

“Fucking what?!” Therion stared at Cerberus as if he was out of his mind. “Fuck, man! Congrats and shit, but for real? If I had a choice between going home, like, immediately or staying in Office for a few more hours marking shit I could pretty easily get my Understudy to do, actually? I’d be out of here in a fucking microsecond. But, you know, you’re the boss, man. Do whatever. Just saying.” Reaching across the desk, he picked up Cenotaph’s paper and scanned its contents quickly. “I mean, this looks pretty good, I guess, but, you know, Kia probably looks better.” He grinned as Cerberus gave a dark smile in response, and paused only for a short time, but enough that the pause be noted. “Seriously. You know she’d spoil the fuck out of you.”

Cerberus sighed again, regret, bitterness and castigating self-reproach evident in his eyes beneath a haze of sickness he really could no longer deny. Yes, I know, of course I know, but... “The spoiling really was suppo… hh-HH…” He hastily took another few tissues from the box, burying his face in them just in time to catch another fierce sneeze he had no chance of stopping. “AHHTSCHUU! Goddamnit. Pardon me.” He wiped his nose, sniffling again immediately – disturbingly liquid, entirely ineffectual, and with a weariness behind it that he could not disguise. Looking back up at Therion, he returned to his point. “I’d really intended the providing of spoils to be my job tonight. And this…utter ridiculousness—” He made a vague gesture towards his face. “—was supposed to have improved, not worsened, damn it.”

With another heavy sigh, disappointment palpable, he capitulated. “I don’t suppose you keep any cold medication in Office, do you?”

“Sorry.” Therion shook his head. “Go the fuck home, man. I got this.”

Standing, Cerberus nodded briefly in reply, giving Therion a firm pat on the shoulder as he passed by. “Thank you,” he said quietly, and vanished.

---

And naturally half the damn Underworld seems to be here.

Well, he most certainly was not going to queue.

Ignoring the mixture of hushed mutterings and soft gasps from the others in the Healing centre – none of whom he recognised but it was evident from the expressions on the faces of the…many people staring at him that the reverse was not the case – Cerberus walked to the front of the line with only the most cursory of glances at those who he had no intention of waiting either for or behind, greeted Riviera at the front desk perfunctorily and, abruptly beyond caring to hear any more of the continuing intrusive sussurance, froze the entirety of the waiting room’s occupants under Stasis with a crisp wave of his hand.

Dear gods, shut up. I will set you all on fire and I won’t regret it for a second.

He sniffled strongly. “Aldiss, please,” he said to Riviera, who had already Mindsent the Healing Leader in anticipation of precisely that directive.

“On her way,” Riviera replied. She indicated the Stasis-held others. “Um, is that…are they…?”

“Entirely temporary, just expedient. I’ll undo it soon enough.”

Aldiss appeared beside Riviera at the desk, Mindsending her :Cover me for a bit. Room 5, burns, not serious, mostly dealt with already,: and Riviera duly vanished.

At a loss and clearly awaiting clarification, Aldiss turned her attention to Cerberus. “Alright, what are you doing here?”

Cerberus frowned. Why is everywhere I am apparently a surprise tonight? “I’m ill, obviously. Why else would I be here? I need cold medication.” He sniffled again, as if in emphasis, though not intentionally so, and wiped his nose.

“Again? Already?”

Again? There IS no again. I literally just got here. What the hell is going on? Cerberus briefly wondered if he could be hallucinating this entire sequence of events, so little of it seemed to make any coherent sense. “What do you mean ‘already’?” He winced as his voice cracked, and he cleared his throat, which did little more than cause him a different kind of discomfort, a convulsive cough following in short order, his nose running again as a result. He sniffled sharply, repeatedly. Gods. For fuck’s sake. “Excuse me.”

“I’m not giving you anything more if you’ve taken the other lot already.”

“Damn it, Aldiss, do I sound like I’ve taken anything?!”

Aldiss did have to concede that point.

Thoroughly exasperated, Cerberus exhaled heavily in annoyance. “Why is everything always such an ordeal in this place?” And suddenly another strangeness occurred to him. “Wait – what other lot?

“The meds Kia picked up, obviously.”

“What?!” Cerberus, a fresh fear striking him – one he was entirely unprepared for, one that actually managed to distract him from his own discomforts for a moment – stared at Aldiss in unconcealed horror. “Kia’s unwell?!”

With a wry smile, Aldiss shook her head. “I swear I never personally get to experience it, but rumour has it you’re actually quite a clever man, Cerberus, so try and stay with me here, alright?” She looked at him with a certain sardonic encouragement. “The meds Kia picked up for you.”

Unfortunately, this didn’t make much more sense to him, if at all. “But what reason would…” He sniffled again. “Why would she do that?” He rubbed and wrinkled his nose against a building itch, took a tissue from the box on the desk, then another, and tried to stay focused.

Aldiss, in mildly amused bafflement that he could actually be this oblivious, stared at the Demon king as if he was a complete imbecile. “Because you’ve got a cold?”

Annoyance clearly evident despite the hitch in his breath, Cerberus frowned at her. “Yes, Aldiss, we’ve established that, but Ki…Kia doesn’t…” Ah, fuck. Bringing the tissues to his face as the itch became sharply definite, he turned away hurriedly. “Huh-ATSSCHH-uu!” He groaned, sniffling immediately, the force of the sneeze bringing to the fore anew the pulsing headache he’d almost, almostbeen able to forget, his breath still a little shaky as he excused himself. He claimed another tissue and wiped his nose, sniffling again, and took a moment before returning to his earlier point. “Kia doesn’t know about *snf!* this yet.”

“Yes, she most certainly does,” Aldiss countered. “What, you didn’t think she’d notice?”

“Well, of course she’d notice now, damn it, Aldiss,” said Cerberus in open irritation, “but I wasn’t nearly this…”

“Oh, for god’s sake, Cerberus. How long have you been together?”

“As it happens, it’s our twentieth anniversary tonight,” Cerberus replied, a bitter and rueful undertone unmissable despite increasing congestion, “which I am attempting not to completely ruin.” Another sharp sniffle. “Apparently a futile pursuit,” he muttered resentfully, and pressed the back of his hand against his nose in an attempt to see off a newly threatening, vibrantly insistent itch.

“Twenty years and you think she’d miss a thing? She knows you. She knows you really well. How do you not…”

“Ahh-HEHTSSHhuu!”

Aldiss sighed as Cerberus, thoroughly losing the battle, sneezed again, wetly and powerfully, and she passed him a handful of tissues as he murmured both an apology and a thankyou. Looking out at the significant number of people yet to be seen, she allowed him some necessary moments of recovery, then made her point. “Listen, I’m sorry you’ve managed to catch cold for your anniversary but you do have both medication and a devoted bonded waiting at home. Please go there. Kia’s probably wondering where the hell you are anyway, since – if I can I remind you – she knows you’re sick. Oh, and you can undo your…stopping people in time thing or whatever it is now, too, thank you very much.”

“As always, Aldiss, it’s been a delight.” Releasing his Stasis hold with a short wave, the murmurs and mutterings picking up precisely where they’d been cut off as if there had never been a break, Cerberus turned his gaze briefly upon his unbidden rapt audience, disregarded them all equally, internally cursed himself for having even bothered to come to this ridiculous place, inclined his head in crisp farewell, and promptly vanished.

---

Leaning back against the loungeroom wall in weary resignation upon his Teleported arrival home, Cerberus stopped still, his attentions resolutely redirected in an instant at the entirely unexpected sight of his beautiful lifebonded reclining languorously across the couch, dressed – or almost dressed, it could technically be said – in diaphanous babydoll chemise and finest lace lingerie, soft brunette darkestness falling silkenwild around her shoulders, a vision of breathtaking boudoir fantasy he was quite thoroughly unprepared for, and he paused for a moment to simply gaze at her, enchanted.

:Darkling, you are perfection.:

Kia looked up slowly, and with a sultry, indulgent smile, dropped her book onto the coffee table and stretched before sitting up just a little, beckoning him to join her with crooked finger and open invitation.

“Took your time, sweetheart,” she said, gently teasing, and opened the bottle of cognac, pouring a glass for them both. “I’d almost decided to start without you.”

“Love, I…” Cerberus began but was torn from his words unstoppably, unable to do anything about the sudden, desperate need overtaking him, and, expression crumpling and focus destroyed, he had no choice but to give in to it. “Huh-TSCHH-uu! Ah-HEHTSCHuu!” He pardoned himself with haste, groaning quietly.

“Aw, bless you, hon. Come here.” Kia repeated her beckoning motion. She regarded him a moment, frowning in puzzlement. “Where’s your coat?” She’d not seen him leave the house this morning, but she was entirely certain he’d have worn one.

“Hmm? Oh, um…” Cerberus sniffled, wiped his nose and glanced down at himself, not having given any particular thought to his outfit – his standard fine linen shirt, brocade waistcoat, tailored black pants – since leaving Office.

Which was, of course, where he’d left his coat.

“Got rained on. Earlier, that is, not… A while ago, anyhow.” He sniffled again and tried to focus. “In Office. The coat, I mean, not where the…rain was.” He sighed in exasperation as anger at the situation overtook tiredness again. “Honestly, it would be nice if I could at least form a damn sentence!” Gods, what the hell is wrong with you. Get your damn shit together. “Sorry, love. I, um…used Teleport after that, though, so I’ve not really been outside since.”

“Well, coat or not, you were supposed to have given up and come home ages ago.” Kia laughed gently. “You know, like a normal person. Why are you always so stubborn about this stuff?” She caressed his face affectionately as he sat beside her, curled an arm around the back of his neck, and kissed him with warm promise. :And don’t you even dare say a word about not wanting to give your cold to me,: she Mindsent preemptively. :Yes, I know, no, I don’t care, and there is no way I’m not kissing you on our twentieth anniversary.:

“Anyway,” she continued in satin murmur, tracing a finger along the angular contours of his jawline and kissing him again, “you know I’ll spoil you.” She looked at him directly then, sapphire eyes narrowing in challenge. “You do know that, right?”

“I…” He did, but between the desire not to need her to – at least not tonight – and rather for him to be, as he’d so very much intended, the one fulfilling any fantasies, and the desire to just try and forget failed plans and expectations and immerse in her…frankly stunning sanctuary, and his head was far too clouded to explain himself right now, and technically he had left Office early anyway so he wasn’t that late really, especially considering he hadn’t realised that he’d been expected, but what did any of this even matter when this goddess before him was so…very… He sniffled again, claiming a tissue and wiping his nose firmly, and wished he was at least a little more functional because she was so incredibly breathtaking, and that was all he could think about in the moment, really, aside from feeling like he was fairly sure he was going to sneeze again – which, when combined with the first and…infinitely preferable reason that he couldn’t think straight, provided a particularly strange contradiction in where his attentions were directed, and now he couldn’t with certainty remember exactly what she’d asked him anymore, and she was just…gods, she was everything, and his head was a mess and he…definitely had to…

He blinked rapidly, his breath hitching in escalating intensity, and turned from Kia to bury his face in crooked elbow. Gods, fuck, just…

“Huh-TSSCHH-uu! Ahh-HUHTSSHhuu!”

The force of the sneezes combined with the pounding throb of sinus-heavy headache to set the room spinning, but despite that had done very little to quiet the insistent irritation he just could not seem to escape tonight. Another staccato breath and fuck ano… hh-HH ..another and a Mindsent apology because he was entirely unable to voice one, doubling over in thrall to desperate demand, powerful, possessing. “Hhuh-AHTSCHUU! Huh…hh-TSSCHH-uu!”

“Oh, sweetheart, bless you.” Kia indicated the medications she’d collected on the table, though she wasn’t sure there was much point, his ability to focus entirely and…mesmerisingly hijacked. “You should probably…”

Cerberus, with a brief shake of his head, held up a finger in a gesture indicating that she had to wait a moment, the relentless need not done with him yet, and he inhaled deeply, unable to do a thing about it other than succumb once more, and he sneezed again – undeniable, absolute, violently ferocious. “Hh-hhAAAHTSSCHHUU! ..uhh…” A quiet groan and he pressed the back of his hand against his nose, sniffling fiercely, more than a little breathless. “Damn. Sorry.”

“Wow, bless you!” Kia said with softriveted, emphatic appraisal, and flashed him a wickedwarm grin. “Impressive. You should get a prize for that kind of effort.”

“Gods, love.” Smiling wryly despite himself, Cerberus managed a brief disbelieving laugh before having no choice but to give in to sharpburning sensation, his breath catching abrupt, deep, jagged, pleading. “hh-h-huh-TSCHH-uu! Huh-TSSCHH-uu! *snf!* Huh… huhhTSSCHHUU! For fuck’s sake! *SNFF!* Ugh, sorry.” Sniffling repeatedly, he excused himself again with clear irritation even as Kia offered him a tender blessing. He took a fresh multitude of tissues from the box and blew his nose, muttering under his breath that in any reasonable world he’d get to kill at least one person over this, and if…

“Oh, look!” announced Kia with cheery brightness, breaking into his thoughts and picking up one of the medication vials. “You win drugs.” She handed the vial to Cerberus with a kiss to his cheek, effectively short-circuiting his rising fury at the situation, and trailed a languid hand down the length of his arm, dropped her voice to a sultry purr. “I’ll even throw in the glamorous assistant.” She semi-curtseyed, winked in play.

With a soft laugh and a sigh both appreciative and self-effacing, Cerberus accepted and took the meds as proffered, curling an arm across Kia’s shoulders, drawing them closer together, and leant his head against hers, Mindsending a heartfelt, sincere :I adore you.:

“I’m so sorry, darkling.” He ran an index finger under his nose, sniffled quietly, exhaled with dismayed heaviness at the thought of having let his beloved down, in any way. “I really did mean to give you everything you desire tonight.” He sat back again; smiled at her, a little sadly. “And I truly do wish to bring you the world you deserve. All the worlds, come to that.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I know. And I know that you’re, like…literally able to do it, which still just amazes me and will forever, I swear, you’re incredible, but…really, you don’t need to be disappointed. See, I want you—” Shifting her position smoothly, Kia moved to sit on his lap, her legs astride his, and caressed his face in her hands, kissing him with passion burning. “Mmm. I want you—” Another kiss. “—to think for just a minute—” And another. “—from a different view.” Reaching behind his head, she untied the velvet ribbon constraining his hair, allowing it in release to cascade over his shoulders. She wove a gentle hand through freed midnight, tucked a few stray strands behind his ear. “If things were reversed, if I was the one who’d come home sick tonight, what would you have done?”

Cerberus chuckled wryly, softly, as he recognised her viewpoint. He didn’t pretend otherwise. “Anything you wanted, love, as always.”

Kia gave him a knowing smile. “Mm-hm.”

Wrapping her arms around him, she kissed him again, slower, deeper. “So, then, babe,” she purred, tracing a trail of kisses down his neck, shoulders, chest, “you should know that you are everything I desire, everything I dream of, and the only way you could ever let me down is to not be with me tonight, and now I am going to order you into the bedroom and you are going to do exactly what I say and that is pretty much what would have happened even with you in perfect health with your perfect plan, because you should know—” She broke off again, kissing him with a craving undeniable, abandoning speech for silksultry Mindsend.

:that all I want:

One hand now twining through his hair, the other first toying with then smoothly untying the topmost bows on her chemise, allowing it to fall away, and she pulled him closer to her again, deepening the kiss at his involuntary resulting moan.

:is…this.:

Another kiss and her hand reaching down, loosening clothing and caressing him to urgency, and he moaned again, curling one arm around her waist and another behind her head, holding her around him and returning her kiss with a fire straight from his soul, feeling her breath quickening, demanding, as she pushed back against him, heat rising. A soft growl, a gasp, a sharp inhalation as they joined together, and she met her beloved’s famed emerald gaze eye to eye, consummate, profligate, incendiary.

“Oh, and sweetheart? Tonight I am going to make you wish you caught cold more often.”

---

[presumenothing]

for @shinranweek day 6 – domesticity to the tune of marvel au at @mirrorfalls's behest, aka mindless fluff set sometime after the publication of this news article fic (also references this crack bit)

"I've been thinking," Ran begins as she rounds on the last hundred or so of the goo monsters in her assigned zone. "Maybe we should open that bakery after all."

It'd been a relatively harmless incident as far as their record went, especially now that Widow had gone on ahead and very percussively put the originating portal out of commission. Which meant they just had to whack the remaining bits of otherworldly goo until they went dormant enough for cleanup.

The glorp-thud of the shield going against less-than-solid material peppers the background of Shinichi's reply. "Yeah?"

"I was talking to Chiyoda-san from the Tower's lobby cafe the other day – the baker that usually supplies them is going on a holiday for two weeks, and anyway they want something fun to help lift spirits a bit! From all the not so great news lately, you know."

"So you want to use that as a trial run? Sounds good." Glorp-thud. Glorp-thud. Shinichi's amusement is audible. "How about those rainbow shield cookies you made last week?"

"That, and I was thinking something more special too." Ran's own grin is almost concerningly wide, though not of the unholy-glee variety that Kazuha would be having in this situation. "Maybe Cap and Soldier cookies? It'd be a nice way to show appreciation to everyone who supported us through the trial, too, and we can always have a special deal for buying both t–"

Shiho's voice bursts into the conversation right then. "Flirting? On my comms line? Apparently more likely than you think!"

"This is the general channel, Miyano," Shinichi points out, and Ran's pretty sure his expression has inched into outright evil now. "But of course, I'm sure Ran will reserve you a set of those cookies free of charge, as our most dignified host–"

That gets two responses in quick succession: a cut-off complaint about pre-marital flirting, AGASA, or so help me– and a disconnect sound whose resemblance to a disgruntled cat noise Ran will never point out.

"Looks like we're clear," Ran reports, running the comms check like Kazuha had shown her before. "Shiho-san kicked us to a private channel, I'm pretty sure she won't be checking in any time soon."

Glorp-thud, goes the shield as Shinichi snickers. "Toyama's gone to find a cake?"

"And some wine and snacks," Ran confirms. "She said she knows a couple places to try around here, from when she was Shiho-san's PA. And I saw a party shop on the way over, they probably won't have anything fancy but that can wait until we get back to the Tower anyway."

"Seriously, the chances of this taking us out of town on this exact day," Shinichi mutters, and Ran has to agree – they'd already planned out a surprise birthday party with Momiji and Sera, but there's no way they're getting back to the Tower by tonight. "Then I guess I'll have to find someplace willing to host a last-minute party for dinner. Probably gotta get rid of all this goo first, though."

Ran can't help laughing at the idea of a goo-bedraggled Shinichi knocking at doors; his reputation had been helped by Hidemi-san's article but not that much. "Probably. And I was being honest, I do think the bakery is a good idea! Especially if we get Ayumi-chan and the rest to help run the logistics, I know they've been wanting to make it up to Shiho-san for how much she helps Mitsuhiko-kun."

"And maybe if we keep them busy enough that'll stop Spiderman and friends from getting into trouble," comes the answering grumble.

Ran rolls her eyes and goes back to goo-squishing, instead of pointing out that Shinichi had been getting into so much more trouble at their age.

(Then again, that trouble had been a pretty big part of why they'd ever ended up here, so she supposed it had turned out fine after all.)

[iamnightduchess]

Reiner & Mikasa: A Retrospective Pt. 1

Why their combined synergy is poetic in potentially saving Eren by the end of SnK?

(Disclaimer: This is purely an appreciation post for my two favorite characters, [BR]OTP-influenced but in no way disregarding any other characters’ importance in the series) **contains spoilers for recent manga chapters & Ep. 63 of AoT’s Final Season. Image heavy.

Ever since they were trainees, Eren has always looked up towards both Reiner and Mikasa, although he wasn’t willing to admit to the latter in front of her face directly. But, in a feeling of helplessness, he confided in Reiner. He aspired to be just like the two strongest people in his life at that point: Reiner and Mikasa.

They are the top two cadets of the 104th batch and are almost always evenly matched in the multiple times they’ve tried to take each other down if it wasn’t for Reiner’s stroke of luck and Mikasa’s hesitance. (Mikasa managed to force him out of his Titan form using her last Thunder Spear but wasn’t enough to kill him even when she said she wanted to)

(Oh yes, she & Levi gave him enough trauma for his PTSD and he has recurring nightmares of her. But he still respects them. Enemy to enemy. Enemy to ally.)

Yet together, there’s still a fighting chance for them to stop Eren because of their deep bond with him. (Armin is important too that ARM still has a huge role to play in the second wave of the final fight. Especially now that he’s realized OG Ymir’s role in all of this. I hope)

At this current timeline of the manga, we have reached the point where Reiner and Mikasa, the very two people that Eren looked up to, have to be the ones (amongst the few) who collectively work together to defeat him, who’s under the Founder Ymir’s influence & in a way, saving him from whatever hopeless vortex he is in.

I very much like to draw light to this short, quick exchange between Reiner & Mikasa on the plane heading towards Fort Salta’s direction. The above panel, which highlighted Reiner’s perspective and his empathy, says “The weight of that unimaginable power & burden would not be easy to endure and that IF he was the one who has the Founder, he’d want it to be handled by someone else and if he couldn’t handle that immense power, he’d want the power to be stopped.” Some fans claimed that Reiner was ‘projecting’ his own innate desire to die on Eren but Reiner has always been the opposite to Eren’s character. The other side of the same coin as Eren’s.

The below panel follows and it’s very interesting to note that if we look at Reiner’s gaze as he was speaking, indirectly Reiner is admitting that he’d want to be stopped by someone he knows could do exactly that and that person or his kryptonite is Mikasa. Ok, woman, this man’s weakness is you. It couldn’t get any direct than that rofl

Reiner was being very mindful (and respectful) of his implication as he is very aware on how delicate is Mikasa’s feelings when it comes to Eren. (Tbh, I also observe the unspoken understanding & mutual respect between these two) Eren’s her family & to directly call out to Mikasa to be more proactive in her actions would be inconsiderate of him despite the situation they’re in. Just like at the harbor, before the showdown with the Jeagerists, Reiner gave them the option to stay aside & not interfere, knowing full well he & the rest of the Marleyan survivors would be no different than headless chickens without the SC’s support. He didn’t force them, just like he didn’t impose his thoughts on Mikasa.

Then BOOM -- PATHS INTERMISSION. Brought to you by OG!Ymir through Young!Eren. Coincidentally, as if ‘someone’ out there wants to place weight on Reiner’s suggestion.

However, after the Paths intermission, that might just be the first wake up call to Mikasa. It’s also interesting that once again we are reminded that no matter how fast or how hard Mikasa tried to chase after Eren, she’ll never be able to get close to him. She gave him her world yet he kept moving forward & leave her behind, chasing after his shadows as he keeps going down a path that no one else can follow. I think it’s interesting that The Paths looped her back to Reiner

The horrified expression on Reiner’s face in the panel below somewhat tells me that he knew his earlier implications are not just him grasping desperately at straws but it feels like there’s the ‘human’ side of Eren, still untainted by Ymir’s will, like he believes, who secretly wants to be stopped. He understood how horrible it is for Mikasa, especially with the look of absolute shock on her face to finally have the awful truth confirmed. (At this point, Armin is already past the point of holding back & will do whatever necessary to rip Eren out of the Founding’s form)

I would like to take the time to share my appreciation of these rich panels of Mikasa working closely with Reiner’s Armored (together with the rest of course). Mikasa doesn’t tell her feelings verbally but she always shows it on her face.

Oh yes, right after the above panel, she had to get out of the way but her face below explains the anger and the rage she felt when she saw the Colossal took a bite out of the Armored’s nape & toss its body away like it’s just point blank garbage.

She was desperately worried that Armin was taken, but at Levi���s behest, she trusted Armin with his orders and they forced themselves to move forward. But one can see she was about to go apeshit when she saw what happened to Reiner & his Armored.

While Reiner & Jean were having a Titanic bro moment here, which is also pivotal in my opinion as Reiner, once again felt he finally belonged amongst people who genuinely care about him Survey Corps Suicide Squad yo even after what had happened between them. (It was a symbolical scene as well where Reiner has to let go of his old bro, Bertolt to move forward with his new bro, Jean.) Mikasa swooped in & kill the random Titan form that was about to make Reiner its lunch. Can’t blame them, that man is a delicious footlong sub. This woman ain’t gonna share haha crack humor, people! 

“If we fight, we win. If we lose, we die.”

Yes, the breaking point of one Mikasa Ackerman. This is a wholesome callback to Trost arc, the day before their graduation. When she found out that Eren died, she went apeshit & went on a “fuck this shit. i have nothing to lose anymore” mode. Jean, as usual, being the tough guy Jean, is angry that she’s putting her life on the line. Again.

But what’s interesting to me was the helpless look on Reiner’s face. He knows she’s super strong, he respects her so much for that & she’s buying them time and was more than willing to die first before everyone does BUT he can’t do much at that point because he’s at his last limit and Jean’s not letting his hand go either. Seriously, THIS is the woman you should marry, bro. She’s willing to die for you & everyone else. This woman is a damn keeper!

Although I am very sure, everyone’s ready to die for each other at this point.

Back to the original pondering: The Reiner & Mikasa saving Eren with/through Armin going directly against Ymir.

The Final Exhibition played a lot on this Eren vs Reiner with Mikasa being in the middle. Touched on this briefly before.

The Final Stand highlights the confrontation between The Founding/Attack against The Armored, with Mikasa being in the middle of the confrontation, tipping the scales of the outcome. Before, she assisted Eren against Reiner.

We are seeing her working together with Reiner to take Eren down right now. The definitive final question that would be answered soon was printed on the wall featuring Eren & Reiner’s exhibition panel:  “Who’s the one that will disappear from this world?”

I just hope that the right one(s) persevere. Reiner & Mikasa are going to Bonnie & Clyde/ Cloak & Dagger / Cyclops & Phoenix that shit out

Read on their characters compatibility in Part 2

[princesssarcastia]

first hp and now MCU *sigh*

sighs. anyway the reason the jane foster au thing is taking literally seven years is that I’m physically incapable of writing for the MCU without fixing everything I thought was dumb about it.  can’t just do a canon re-write because I Refuse To Condone XYZ.  The things I thought were dumb are many and myriad, but here’s one of them:

In Infinity War, they won’t destroy the mind stone while it’s still attached to Vision because they “don’t trade lives,” even though Steve made the same damn sacrifice, whatever.  But the thing is the avengers then immediately travel to Wakanda and start trading Wakandan lives for Vision’s.  They trade so many lives for Vision’s, and in the end it doesn’t even matter because they have to kill him themselves anyway.  SO all those Wakandans died for nothing.  They died for the aesthetic of the avengers having an army.  They died because no one thought through “yeah, T’Challa is totally down to sacrifice his people’s lives for one android he isn’t close with.”  They died because, let’s be honest, the lives of those random Wakandan soldiers meant less to not only the white main characters, but also the white movie creators. hmm. what could possibly be the impetus there.  mostly stupidity, but probably also some racism, lbr.

anyway.  all this to say what follows is a snippet where a) the battle to save vision isn’t taking place in Wakanda proper because the avengers don’t trade lives...other than their own.  In fact, it’s taking place in the arctic circle, where Wakanda has a shielded research station with no civilians that Shuri can appropriate to fix Vision without having her citizens die needlessly.  b) it’s just the avengers there, because they’re willing to put their own lives on the line for their friend and their principles. c) they’re using the mind stone as a lure to keep Thanos’ giant monster army focused on them, in this unpopulated place, rather than a city or a country.

you didn’t really need to know that, actually, because this fic snippet is about bruce banner.  explicit tw in the tags you may want to check for if you don’t mind a spoiler.  anyway, oh well, long walk for a short drink of water:

The walls shake with something other than the wind, and Bruce grits his teeth against whatever extrasensory response the other guy is having.  If he doesn’t want to come out to play, then he doesn’t get to raise the hairs on the back of Bruce’s neck.

The other guy.   After two years being trapped while he gets to play, maybe Bruce is the other guy now.  Maybe the Hulk—

“Doctor Banner,” Shuri says without looking away from her interface.  “If you’re going to help, then help.  Otherwise stop distracting me and get out.”

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four...”You’re right.  Sorry.”  He turns back to his equations and keeps calculating what kind of energy source they can create here to replace the mind stone.  Vision may be able to survive without it, but it’s ridiculous to ignore that it serves a purpose in keeping him not just alive, but functional.  There’s a difference between surviving and living and the Avengers aren’t risking their lives just so he can—

Boom.

Dammit.

Shuri’s guard, the one T’Challa left with them—Ayo? Was that her name?—steps further away from them and speaks into her bracelet—kimoyo beads.  Bruce strains to ignore it because he doesn’t need to know what he’s missing outside, doesn’t need to know how poorly the battle is going for his friends, his—his shield brothers, Brun would call it, without him.  There’s no doubt in his mind Shuri could save Vision without him and there’s no doubt in her mind, either; he’s here as a courtesy and because it’ll go faster, at least.  Because he’d be useless otherwise, sitting there with his thumb up his ass while his friends fight and die without him, without them, dammit Hulk—

“Princess,” Ayo calls. 

“Not yet.”

“How long?”

“I don’t know how long, I’ve never done a neural reprogramming for an android before.”  Shuri purses her lips.  “Longer than this, certainly, to revolutionize a field that doesn’t even exist yet.”  She reprograms another synapse.  It looks like maybe thirty percent of them are done.  Thirty percent, after four hours.

Bruce glances at Ayo from the corner of his eye because he’s a masochist and he can’t help himself.  Her face is troubled, and so is Okoye’s on the projection hovering over her wrist.

“Ayo, tell her she needs to hurry up!”  The projection twists like the general has taken her hand from her face.  There’s a flash of silver, a war cry, and a brief, incomprehensible glimpse of something black and twisted and horrible.  It cuts out in the middle of the creature’s answers screech.

Ayo slowly lowers her hand back to her side, and Bruce tries to focus back in on his work.  Tries to focus on the math, on the energy readings, on Vision’s life in here instead of all the death out there, because if he doesn’t—

“I really am going as fast as I can,” Shuri says in a small voice.  Twenty.  She’s just twenty years old, what was Bruce doing at twenty?

Don’t go there.  Don’t go there, Bruce.  Shouldn’t have come back to the Arctic, that was just asking for trouble.

Focus.

What would happen if he lost it, and the Hulk refused to come out?

Focus.  Focus on Vision, on saving his life.  Save lives.  Save his life.

“So you're saying that the Hulk... the other guy... saved my life?”

Another explosion rocks the room, rocks the station, rocks the damn arctic ice pack they’re standing on.  It’s the biggest one yet.    “Evacuate the southeast quadrant.  All personnel in the southeast quadrant, evacuate to the next defense point.”  The intercom doesn’t even crackle as it activates over their heads and Bruce is struck by how odd that is; it’s almost more unnerving that the idea of the situation escalating to the point of evacuation.  Ayo pulls up a map of the station on her kimoyo beads and manipulates it, pulling up what he assumes is the southeast quadrant.

“That's nice. It's a nice sentiment. Saved it for what?”  

“How bad is it?” Bruce asks.

Ayo’s eyes dart to Shuri, who is nothing but relentless; he hasn’t seen her stop once this whole time.  “Bad.  They have breached the facility’s outer defenses.  Princess, perhaps we should—”

“No!”  Shuri all but shouts.  “I will not evacuate, I will not abandon this mission, we’re not finished yet.  Tell someone to come fill the gap.”

“Princess, if they have not already done so, then they may not have the manpower to do it.”

“Then call reinforcements!”

There are no reinforcements because this is a hail-Mary, vigilante mission and all the Avengers on-world are already here.  T’Challa isn’t bringing any more of his people into this, and Steve and Natasha and Tony would never ask him to.   When they fail, that’s it, it’s done.  And so is Vision, and this will all have been for nothing. 

“I guess we'll find out.”

Bruce pushes his glasses off his nose and pinches his brow.  He can’t even think about this; he’s thinking about it without thinking it, a glaring absence that lets you see the shape of it regardless.

“This wasn’t just a Wakandan station, right?  I mean, you guys opened it up to other countries for the science and information exchange?”

A pause.  “Yes.”

“Any military?”

A longer pause.  “...Yes.  Dr. Banner, what are you...”

She trails off as Bruce looks up.  There must be something in his face.

“Did they leave anything behind when they airlifted out earlier?  Weapons?” He adds, because there’s no use beating around the bush.  No time. 

“Probably, but you will find nothing there of any use.  Wakandan technology—”

“Is much more advanced, I know.  But you don’t really have any projectile weapons.

Ayo’s nose crinkles up in disgust, but is already turning back to her charge.  “Of course not.  So primitive.  Princess, we will need time to evacuate to the ship, please.”

Shuri cuts a glance at him, seemingly ignoring Ayo.  “What do you need a projectile weapon for, Dr. Banner?”

“Something desperate.”  He pulls his glasses off and sets them on the table.  “Stay here, Shuri, finish your work.  Save him.”

Bruce has never asked anyone else to risk their life when his own would do. He’s not fucking starting now, when the whole universe is at stake. 

Between him and Shuri, Ayo reluctantly lets the issue go, but he can tell if Thanos’ army gets a single step closer to her Princess, Ayo will throw her over her shoulder and sprint for the quinjet, mission be damned.  He marches out of the room and follows Ayo’s directions to the nearest storage area; the American one, as luck would have it.  Because of course the American team brought guns to the Arctic Circle on a science and information exchange program.  Of course.  A few M11s just lying around, lost in the hasty shuffle to abandon this place.  Bruce picks it up and just holds it.  Feels the weight in his hand.  Ayo was right, they are primitive; primitive and ugly and violent and only good for one thing. Another impact.  The station shakes again, and the lights flicker above his head. Now.  It has to be now. He doesn’t have a radio, but he knows where the southeast corner of the building is, so he keeps the gun in a tight grip and heads that way. Three corridors away and he starts to hear noises.  Yelling.  Screaming.  Gunfire.  Energy bursts.  The ring of Steve’s shield, the whine of Tony’s repulsors.  And above it all that same horrible screeching noise from those creatures invading their planet at the behest of a genocidal maniac trying to kill Bruce’s friends. Kill the Hulk’s friends. Louder, and louder, and louder, until he can’t even hear himself think which is good because he doesn’t want to think about this he never wanted to think about this again even though he did, a lot, like after Lagos and Sokovia and Sakaar. The team has driven them back from the breach in the facility, that’s good.  Wind and snow come howling in through the massive hole and Bruce shivers and tells himself its from the cold. Outside is...pandemonium.  His friends are like brief sparks of light in a sea of writhing, angry, violent darkness trying to tear them apart.  There are so many of them he can barely see the horizon and they show no sign of stopping. In the distance, he makes out Steve, locked in fierce battle with something that looks less like a bargain bin eldritch horror and more like one of those Black Order people. He’s losing.  Even Bruce can tell that. “Now would be a really good time for you to get angry” He’s always angry.  But the anger isn’t enough anymore. “Bruce, what are you doing out here?”  Tony screams at him, flying towards him with his hands still targeting energy blasts at the enemy.  “I thought you said the Hulk can’t come out, you can’t be here!  Go help Shuri!” Ten, nine, eight, seven—oh, fuck it. “Won’t, not can’t, Tony.” One breath.  Two breaths.  He squeezes the grip so hard it starts denting his palm. “Those are functionally the same, big guy, so get the hell out of here.  We got this!” “No you don’t, we’re losing!”  Bruce takes a short inhale through his nose.  “They’re not functionally the same when I can force his—our hand.” That finally makes Tony look at him, and Bruce doesn’t know if he catches it on his own or FRIDAY points it out to him, but he finally sees the gun.  He dissolves his faceplate and looks at Bruce with wide, exhausted eyes.  “No, no, Bruce, don’t you dare, Bruce!” He lunges, but he doesn’t make it before the gun goes off, the bullet tears through Bruce’s mouth and then—and then nothing. The Hulk roars.   Anger isn’t enough anymore.  Self-preservation will have to do.

[imaginesandinserts]

Irreverent Pt. 52 - We All Fall Down

Title: Irreverent Pt. 52 - We All Fall Down

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader Rating: M Words: ~3K

Trigger Warning: Torture, Canon Typical Violence, Mentions of Rape

A/N: I’m posting Chapters 51 and 52 at the same time. Make sure you read them in order. And if you haven’t read 50 (posted yesterday) definitely read that first. 

Irreverent Series Masterlist

Aaron's hands shake and tremble as he flushes the toilet, the evidence of him emptying his stomach swirling down into the sewers.

He's clammy and there's a sheen of sweat on his forehead as he pushes up off of the porcelain and into a seated position, before leveraging the wall behind him to force himself up to his feet. He reaches the sink, gripping tightly onto the edge, knuckles whitening with the force of his hold.

He can't bear to look at his own reflection in the mirror. He can't bear to see his face, stricken with fear and horror and fury at everything he'd just seen you suffer. His mind would not abide that.

He couldn't.

Your screams echo in his brain on a loop. How you begged them to stop. How you screamed at them to relent. How you pleaded with them, telling them that you had a child. A child who was waiting for you to return home to him.

You didn't break though. Not once did you bargain away what they were after. You stayed strong through it all.

How?

The door opens and there's a hand on his back, rubbing it soothingly. A soft voice cooing at him and comforting him. He can't be comforted. Not after that.

How could he not have known this happened?

How could you not have told him about this?

You had stood there in his office after this. You had stood there right in front of him. You had handed him Garcia's reinstatement papers only a day or so after all of that.

The question that he can't rid himself of is how.

How and how and how, on repeat, chanting and questioning and mocking him.

How could you have stood there and not told him? How had you not just crumpled under the weight of it all?

Aaron had seen you. He'd stood inches from you after this and he'd seen you and he had known. He had. He'd known that something was wrong in his bones, but despite that, this wasn't something he could have ever imagined.

The screaming lingers in his mind, melding itself into his membrane. He won't be rid of it. It will be the fuel for every nightmare for years to come.

He can't breathe.

Why had he not stopped you from leaving? When he had felt so strongly that something wasn't right. Why hadn't he stopped you? Why hadn't he clung to you, grabbed you, tucked you away somewhere safe?

How could he have let you walk away?

How had he failed so entirely, to keep you safe?

He's led out of the bathroom.

Someone hands him a glass of water. His hand still shakes as he holds it.

His body collapses into the couch. His eyes closing momentarily, unable to stay open.

They open, the light in the room mocking him with its brilliance.

They were all looking at him and it was too much. All of their horrified faces were too much. All of their tormented silence was too much.

They had all seen what he had. They had seen you suffer. Your screams were etched into their minds too.

The video is paused on the screen still. It's not over.

He can't do this. He can't watch more.

He has to.

The team all looks to him, but Aaron looks to Dave and then Morgan. He can't do this. He can't make the call.

At Dave's nod, Garcia resumes the video with a trembling hand, her other hand held tightly in JJ's.

They'd tied you to the chair once more and left, your frail body hanging against the bindings. At Dave's instruction, Garcia moves the video forward until there is movement again. Aaron watches as the minutes fast forward, the orange lighting in the room casting you in shadow.

It resumes when someone enters, a different man, shorter than the other. He roughly jolts you awake, hoisting you up by your arms, and hooking you into a rig on the ceiling, pulling your body upright. Your feet skim the ground as you try to steady yourself.

You meet the man's eye and only that gives Aaron some hope. You're still putting up a fight. You haven't given up.

"Tell me, how are Jack and Aaron doing?" His voice is menacing, his hand far too familiar against your waist.

Aaron can feel your internal recoil as he turns to meet Dave's eye. If this preceded the last time he'd seen you, then it explained everything. You had been trying to put distance between yourself and Jack and Aaron. Trying to protect them in any manner available to you. It made sense – it was exactly what he would have done. What he had done, by placing Haley and Jack in Witness Protection. You'd done the next best thing available to you. Eliminate any official ties to him.

The man moves, his mouth near your ear, and you flinch ever so slightly. "You know, we've got Easter too. Boy has he been talking. He told me something really interesting about you. You want to know what he said?"

You close your eyes, the realization that Easter was captured as well, killing any hope you must have had of being rescued. Of it ending.

"He told me you have a hard time keeping them. That you lost one." His hand curves around your waist, to the front of your stomach.

All air leaves him as the realization of what the man had just said to you sinks in. You'd lost –

"You want me to help?" the man asks, his lips curling into a cruel smirk. "Make sure this time, it sticks?"

There's a hitched gasp from somewhere beside him, but Aaron can't look to see who it was. Through the watery film of his tears, he can only watch you. His eyes can't leave you.

He sees you rally the final remnants of fight left in you as you turn sharply, your body swaying from the force. "You really think you're the first man to promise me that?" you spat, your face contorted with rage, eyes blazing with renewed fury.

Aaron meets Morgan's gaze, the question burning in his eyes. Despite that, Aaron knows. He knows exactly what you had meant and who it had been in reference to. Morgan's lips are pressed tightly together and he offers Aaron a short nod of confirmation. Aaron knows. It appeared he would never be rid of reasons to despise the ground Matthew van Doren walked on.

There is a battle of wills between you and the man, as you stare at one another. The two of you look and watch one another as you dangle, swaying slightly, feet still trying to latch onto the flooring, his hand still on your waist as he tilts backwards from you ever so slightly.

The man looks from you to a space behind you and only a few seconds later, the door to the room opens. There, standing in the doorway, looking right as rain, is Clyde Easter.

Your eyes widen when you see him. He strides in with full authority and gestures to the other man, who leaves at his behest.

A collective wave of shock runs through, bridging the gap between you on the screen and the rest of them in Rossi's living room.

"This was Easter?!" Morgan's bellowing voice pulsates through the room, the full force of his outrage turned towards Prentiss for an explanation of some sort. Some reason as to why you were tied to the ceiling on that screen.

Emily's lips are parted, aghast. Shakily, she nods. "I – I'd heard rumors. He tests agents who have never been undercover prior to working with him. See if they'll break. But, that's all I thought they were. Rumors. Just rumors…" Her voice trails off, hand raised up to cover her mouth in shock. She can't look at any of them, her eyes still fixated on you as Easter helps you out of the bindings.

You collapse into the chair, a trembling mess of sobs as the reality of your situation catches up with you, and Aaron wants nothing more than to leap into that screen and pummel Easter to dust, kill him with his bare hands, for doing this to you. For putting you through all that in the name of some grotesque test.

His hands shake with unbridled madness as he watches Easter try and fail to sooth you, comfort you, hold you the way you needed to be held.

Aaron only sees red.

He only sees the man who had thrust this brutality upon you, trying to make up for it by running his hands down your arms in some conciliatory attempt at making you feel better.

HOW DARE HE FUCKING TOUCH YOU?!

They all wait and watch as you come down. Aaron can make out how red and raw the skin around your wrists is as you rub at it to quell the ache.

His own hands tremble once more as he watches the quiver in your lip. How broken you look, fallen apart on that chair, held up only due to Easter's hands holding you upright.

You say something that they can't make out, and they all at once turn to Reid as Garcia hits pause. There's a tense silence as he swallows, before looking at Aaron to answer. "She said that Easter was the only one who'd known about the baby. She asked how he could tell them about it." His voice shakes.

Morgan nods at Garcia to play the video again.

Aaron can't.

The baby.

Your baby.

His baby.

Easter had known and he'd used it against you.

"Everything is fair game, you need to know that. Be prepared for it. You can't have attachments. You can't have weaknesses."

You can only manage to stare blankly at Easter as he's knelt beside the chair. Anything else would be far too much for you.

They watch as Easter helps you to stand and tells you that there's a medic waiting to tend to you. You nod, your face impassive. Blank. It's as though you'd shut down. You head towards the door.

"Hey, wait." You stop at his voice, your hand on the doorknob. "Why haven't you told Hotchner yet?" Easter asks, his brow furrowed in question as he looks at you.

There's a pause in which Aaron holds his breath, his eyes locked onto you in that screen. Wishing he could appear beside you. Hold you. Tell you that you didn't owe that bastard any answers.

"When was I supposed to do that? When I was taking the case away from him, or when I was suspending Garcia?" Your voice is firm as you answer him. Hoarse and mangled, yet unwavering.

Easter looks at you still. Looks at you as though he doesn't quite believe you.

You release an unsteady breath, your hand turning the doorknob, before you turn back around to him once more.

"Because telling him makes it real."

*------------*

Aaron had been sitting in Rossi's backyard since the video concluded. Prentiss, Morgan, and Dave had all checked up on him, but he just wanted to be alone. He knew he wasn't helping. He didn't know what to do.

He begins by thinking through the timeline of everything that had happened. When the team had stumbled upon the Project Atlantis files, you'd come back. Based on that conversation with Easter, he knew that the miscarriage had happened at some point before that. Likely right before. He knew you well enough to know that that wasn't something you'd want to tell him over the phone. You'd wait. You'd been waiting to tell him when you came back that weekend the three of you had plans to attend the ballet. Plans which had been upended when Garcia broke into the files.

Then you'd reappeared early and been forced to suspend Garcia. You'd gone up against McKinney, putting your own job down on the line in the process. He'd said goodbye to you at the door – it was the last time he'd kissed you before waving goodbye to you in the cab.

You'd lost your child. That's the point he keeps coming back to. He could only imagine the pain losing the child had caused you. How much you wanted that. You'd suffered through it alone, without him at your side as he should've been. You'd shouldered the burden of that grief fully upon your shoulders, when he should've been there to help carry the weight. He should've been there. It was both of yours to bear.

A week afterwards, you'd reappeared looking worse for wear, with Garcia's reinstatement papers in hand. He had to imagine that Clyde had kidnapped and tortured you sometime in between your two visits. It's what made most sense, based on how you'd behaved that last time and the upload date on the video.

He understood now, why you'd flinched away that final time. Why you couldn't stand his touch. Anyone's touch. Not when the last time anyone had touched you had been that. He keeps playing it over and over again in his head, those images burned into his brain forever.

Now, another two weeks after you'd gone off the grid, you were in the wind. There is not a doubt in his mind that you're alive. If you could survive all that, then he knows you're alright. There's a conceited part of him that's convinced that he would feel it if you were dead. Like somehow his soul would be untethered entirely, alerting him to your demise long before seeing your body for confirmation.

There's a heavy stone on his heart, crushing it under its weight. Unmoving. Stagnant. Every breath he takes without knowing where you are, how you are – it feels wasted.

The helplessness of the situation rattles in his limbs, making him restless as his foot taps against the floor. He needs to do something. They needed some leads. Neither you nor Easter had resurfaced on any public cameras or any of the numerous private cameras Garcia had also employed. He cannot go to Philadelphia to look for you himself, for fear that he might put you in more danger.

His eyes itch from exhaustion as he runs a hands tiredly over his face. His hair flops down onto his forehead and as he brushes it back, he's reminded of the soft silly smile you get when you see him right when he gets out of the shower. The sweet way you bounce over, pushing his wet hair back for him, before peppering his chest with kisses as though wanting to cover him entirely in you.

Some days he wakes up the next morning to find lipstick marks from anywhere you'd kissed him, having lingered from the night before. Those days, he slips on a shirt, carefully covering the marks beneath an undershirt. He tells himself its for safekeeping. He likes keeping your mark on him. It's like carrying a piece of you with him throughout the day. Those are the days he feels just a little more buoyant, he smiles a little bit more, and at night when he comes home and undresses, he loves seeing your mark on him still. Like you're a part of him. Aaron doesn't think he'd ever get a tattoo, but if he did it would be of your lipstick marks on his skin, right above his heart.

Now – now he doesn't know if he'll ever see those marks on his skin again.

"Hotch."

He looks up, broken from his thoughts, at the sound of Morgan's voice, to see him standing in the doorway to the backyard. He's holding car keys in his hand, and Aaron immediately stands up.

"What is it?" he asks, already making his way towards the door.

"Easter just checked in at Quantico."

[glassworkspiderlilies]

come, come, fly into my palm, & collapse

Genshin Impact | Lumine & Albedo | AO3  Summary: Lumine and Albedo, ft. Paimon—a blizzard is avoided; a stew, an orange, and a night are shared. Observations are made, studies are conducted, some results are obtained Notes: Albedo grew on me FAST and i am filled with so much softness and tenderness for him....i care him so much.... 

He doesn’t realize that a blizzard has truly whipped up outside until the Traveler breaks through the snowdrift accumulated at the entrance to his camp, brushing off the white crystals and stamping her feet free of the snow.

“Albedo!” Paimon greets as she flies past him, practically careening directly into the fire, “Boy are we glad to see you! We almost got buried out there.”

“Hello,” Albedo greets, blinking soporifically. He’d been so focused on compiling his research that he doesn’t know what time it is at all, and with the snowstorm darkening everything further, he can no longer tell. “You were looking for me?”

In response, Lumine holds out her hand, and the strap of a bag materializes within it, weighing her hand down as the bag itself drops. Albedo recognizes its worn make, and understands why she is here, though not quite how the situation in particular came to be.

“My materials,” Albedo identifies, taking the hefty bag, “Thank you. How did you come to be the one delivering it? Timaeus should have been on his way back.”

“About that,” Paimon says, floating back up now that she is a bit more thawed out, “It looks like the Knights of Favonius ended up having some trouble, so there was suddenly a large request for potions….so Timaeus needs a bit more time before he comes back! But Lumine and I were on our way here anyway, so we brought your precious materials, too!”

“Ah, I see,” Albedo says, inclining his head in acknowledgement, though he is seeking more information and glances at the Traveler.

“A slime infestation,” Lumine supplies, moving towards the fire herself now that her task is done, “But nothing the knights cannot handle.”

“Ah, but better to be prepared, and hence the potions. I agree,” Albedo catches on, nodding, then glances outside. “I hadn’t realized it was coming down so hard. It is remarkable that you managed to find your way.”

Lumine smiles faintly.

“One becomes good at finding things when the conditions are unforgiving. You won’t kick us out, will you?” she asks, tilting her head, and his eyes widen despite knowing she is joking.

“Of course not. That would be more than cold of me,” he says, aghast even at the possibility, and her eyes crinkle.

“Great! We’ll even let you put us to work, as thanks!” Paimon exclaims, clapping her hands, and though Lumine gives the spirit a look that so clearly says but I’d be the one doing the actual work, nor does she decline.

His own eyes crinkle at that.

“No need,” he says, patting the papers on his table, “…For now, anyway. Please, make yourself comfortable. I’m sure you’ve had…a harrowing journey to get here in this storm.”

“If you say so! Don’t need to tell us twice,” Paimon cheers, floating back to the fire.

“Thank you, Albedo,” Lumine says as she sheds her coat.

“Certainly,” he replies, and this time, when she smiles at him, he smiles back.

.

It is comfortable being with the Traveler, more comfortable than he could initially tell when they wandered all over the Dragonspine to conduct experiments. She’d had something to gain, then (though some of it was at Paimon’s behest, and it seemed mostly like she was simply going along with both his and her own companion’s whims) but now, she is here by her own will.

Another couple hours passes before he remembers that she is here. While he’s been quite absorbed in his work, Lumine has been quiet too, and he doesn’t even remember hearing Paimon. He looks around, blinking blearily, then closes his eyes briefly and looks around again to make sure he hasn’t suddenly moved locations.

Everything…is organized. Books are back on their shelves, beakers and test tubes cleaned and lined back up on their racks, scattered ingredients returned to their jars, the tables wiped down. His paints and sketches have been untouched, as well as other research that he had left lying out, and he is grateful for that. It must not have been an easy undertaking, cleaning everything up despite the small space, but she did it admirably anyway.

Still—where is the young woman herself? He doesn’t see her at all, though surely she did not wander back out into the blizzard.

Albedo stretches, his joints popping, and walks around to the other side of the camp—finding her sitting behind the table with his distillery, back against the wood, a book propped open on her lap. She looks up at him when he appears, putting up a hand in greeting, and he gives a half-smile at how comfortable she looks.

“My gratitude, for cleaning up,” he says with true appreciation, and she smiles. He looks around again, not seeing Paimon at all. “Where is your floating companion?”

“Hmmm…” Lumine hums, considering how to answer this question. “Sleeping, perhaps? I suspect she will appear again when there is food.”

“Did someone say food?”

Paimon materializes with a twirl, her eyes twinkling.

“Oooh, can you make black-back perch stew, pleeeeease? It’s perfect for this climate, and Paimon is tired of goulash!”

Albedo puts a hand to his chin, understanding, now, why such a question might have been difficult to answer. Lumine’s floating friend is quite the mystery, and Albedo wants so dearly to study the spirit. But no; they are not close enough for him to ask such a thing, and he fears the rejection he will receive were he to ask now.

“Your thoughts?” Lumine asks, and Albedo blinks again.

“On black-back perch stew? I must confess, it’s a dish I’ve only had once. But I should like to eat it again, I think. It would be rather delightful in this climate.”

“Yay! It’s a consensus! C’mon, Lumine, get cooking!” Paimon exclaims, hovering excitedly and clapping her hands.

The Traveler puts her book aside, standing and stretching too before making her way over to the fire. Albedo follows, curious, suddenly, about her methods of preparation and cooking. Last time he had not watched when he requested a Sunshine Sprat, merely consumed the (very tasty) contents.

Lumine glances at him, questioning, but she seems to know the answer already—that he wants to observe—and holds out her hand in front of her. Another bag shimmers into existence—her own this time, from which she begins removing carefully packaged ingredients. Fish filets, Jueyun chilis, violetgrass…

Another thing that he finds fascinating and would like to study—this ability of hers. It is, seemingly, similar to Paimon’s ability, or perhaps even related. Very belatedly, he realizes that he should have offered to help her cook, though it seems that she is perfectly comfortable taking on the duty alone. Paimon hovers dangerously close even though nothing has been put together yet, and Albedo can guess that on the two’s travels, Lumine is primarily in charge when food must be made.

“Do you require assistance?” he asks anyway despite the timing, as she is seasoning the fish.

Lumine blinks at him, and gestures to the stalks of violetgrass.

“If you’d like something to do, you can turn the flowers to powder,” she says, and Albedo nods, the task perfectly suited to him.

“Might I keep a stalk or two for an experiment?” he asks as he walks back to his table, and Lumine nods her agreement.

“Lumine….Paimon is hungry now….Fisherman’s Toast…” the spirit laments, floating down until she sits next to the Traveler.

“Hmmm…then let’s make some chicken and mushroom skewers, too,” Lumine says decisively, and Paimon perks up extra at that, shooting up again.

“Paimon wants five!” she exclaims, and Lumine sets to preparing said food again without complaint.

Fascinating, Albedo thinks, before turning to his mortar and pestle. Both are small people, but their capacity for consumption is…large. Albedo himself dislikes food in large quantities, especially meat, but such meals that he’s experienced in the past seem like they would be no challenge for the Traveler and her floating companion.

It might be nice to share an extravagant meal with them, he thinks, and see the extent of their capabilities in person. Perhaps, if he must attend a conference again where food is often ordered in advance, he could bring Lumine and Paimon along so that his portion didn’t go to waste…

“Albedo! Want one?” Paimon asks, floating over with a skewer.

He looks over, the delicious scent of perfectly cooked chicken and mushrooms tickling his nose. He is hesitant to be eating something right before a meal, but the spirit looks so proud and expectant.

“Thank you,” he says, taking it from her hands, and gingerly slides off the topmost piece of meat with his teeth.

With his free hand, he takes the mortar with the now-powdered violetgrass in it, bringing back over to the cooking fire and setting it near Lumine’s bag for when she needs it. All is quiet for a while, save for the usual bubbling noises of Albedo’s alchemical device and the cooking pot. Paimon eats her skewers and toast with big eyes on the stew, and Lumine stirs the pot patiently as she chews on her own skewer.

Albedo watches it all idly, lulled into a sense of calm as he finishes his last piece of mushroom, declining another skewer in favor of the stew.  

Eventually, Lumine dips a regular spoon into the pot and tastes the broth, her expression unreadable. She takes another spoon and dips it in again, coming out with a larger amount this time. She blows on it for a bit before offering it to Paimon, who blows twice more before shoving the whole thing into her mouth.

“It’s soooooo good!” she exclaims, eyes twinkling, “Yes! Yes! C’mon Lumine, it’s ready, let’s eat!”

Lumine smiles, taking the powdered violetgrass and sprinkling it over the top before doling out the finished stew. She serves Albedo first, with a normal amount, while her own portions and Paimon’s are huge. He suspects they’ll empty the pot just fine.

It’s an excellent stew.

He’d been worried about the spice, truth be told, but the amount if just enough to give the dish heat and warm the body through without being overpowering at all. The fish is so tender and juicy that he finds himself eating eagerly, and finishing his bowl quickly.

Lumine, already spooning more into her own bowl, offers him a full ladle, and he hesitates. He does want more, but…he really does hate overeating, as it always ruins the experience even if he had enjoyed the food initially.

She cocks her head a little, then tilts the ladle until half of it flows back into the pot, and offers the remainder again.

Albedo makes a sheepish expression, and holds out his bowl. Her eyes crinkle, and she pours the half-portion in.

He’s quite full, after the second helping, but pleasantly so. He’s certainly drowsy now, though he's insistent on helping in the clean-up, as she had done everything else. Paimon flops at Lumine's side, already half-asleep, while Albedo and Lumine rinse out the pot and utensils with melted snow. The clink of metal and wood as they do so is pleasant, and between the two of them, the task is completed quickly. It's almost a shame, somehow. It is pleasant to work alongside her, even for something to simple. 

“Back to research so soon?” she asks, when they set the pot back over the fire full of snow to melt down for future use.

Albedo considers.

“A break is in order, perhaps,” he allows, glancing over at his easel, though he frowns when he looks outside again. 

The blizzard is unrelenting, and though he could use some alchemical items to brave it, it is also...not quite worth the trouble it would be to paint in such conditions. 

A novel, then. Lumine watches as he picks one out from the shelf.

“Reading more after all that research you were doing?” Paimon asks drowsily, turning over to her side to face him, “Don't your eyes and brain hurt?” 

“Fortunately, I have very good eyes,” Albedo says.

“And a very good brain?” 

“Hmm...well, people call me a genius, but I don't think I am any such thing. But I suppose I can concede to having a good brain. We all do.” 

Lumine looks at Paimon with her eyebrow raised, who gasps in affront, though she is still too lethargic to float.

“Hey! Why are you looking at Paimon like that?!” she says, and Lumine pats her companion's stomach gently.

“I'm just thinking that Paimon has the very best brain,” Lumine says, very seriously, and Paimon puffs up a little.

“Hehe...well, that's okay, then. Even if your tone is suspicious!” 

Albedo meets Lumine's eyes, then looks away quickly as laughter bubbles in his throat. 

How odd. He does not laugh often; the sensation is warm and ticklish. He clears his throat as quietly as he can before taking the book of the shelf, and considers where to read it. 

Lumine goes back over to the spot she was at earlier, behind the table with his apparatus, and waves him over. She pats the spot beside her when he approaches, and he blinks before settling down beside her, the two of them sitting close but not quite touching. Paimon remains by the cooking fire, now dozing entirely. 

And so he and Lumine read together. He's not sure how much time passes before he realizes that he's being watched, and that Lumine is the one doing so. He ignores this—or rather, lets it happen for a while, but after a bit more time passes, a sharp, tangy scent suddenly permeates the air. He does turn at that, and is somewhat startled to see in Lumine’s hands an orange. It’s an uncommon fruit in Mondstadt, but considering her recent travels to Liyue, whose harbor never stops bustling with trade, it should not be so surprising. He watches closely as she continues to dig her fingers into and underneath the thick rind and peel the skin away, the citrusy scent growing more powerful as she does so. Carefully, she picks away the majority of the white pith before splitting the fruit down the middle, and holds one half out to him.

“…Thank you,” he says, staring at it for a moment before taking it. “A snack, so soon?”

“It’s refreshing,” she says, with a slight shrug, “And it helps digestion.”

“Hmmm.”

He tears a segment off with his teeth, the juices bursting sweet and summery on his tongue. He feels her watching again, and Albedo suspects that this is part of…something. But he watches her out of the corner of his eye too, fascinated by the way she peels each segment from the middle delicately with her fingers.

When they finally meet eyes, she continues to stare unabashedly, smiling a little when he turns to face her completely. 

“Are you conducting research?” he asks, unable to equate the weight of her gaze with anything else.

“I am,” she replies. 

“Oh? And are you obtaining results?” 

“I am,” she says again.

He pauses, considering whether or not to continue the game and ask for the results of said investigation. In the meantime, she tosses the orange peel into the fire, a pleasant aroma filling the space as it wrinkles in the heat.  

“I hope the returns are favorable, then,” he says instead.

“They are,” Lumine replies, and she smiles at him, full and bright.

Inexplicably, he feels himself flush. 

“Oh,” he mutters, turning away, confused at his own involuntary response. 

“Very favorable indeed,” Lumine says, and turns back to her book, seeming pleased. 

.

He returns to his own research soon after, only a little bit attempting to escape his embarrassment. A new feeling too, this self-consciousness. He has had many, many eyes on him, much attention turned on him for his alchemical skill. And, apparently, his looks as well. Yet he has never given another thought about it; it has never bothered nor interested him.

He cannot quite say he is bothered or interested now. But this...awareness...is quite new, different. 

Nevertheless. He has work to do, though the suspects that he will not have much time left in the day to do so. Time is harder to measure on the Dragonspine, especially with the storm, but it is important that he maintain at least the semblance of a schedule so as not to disrupt the workflow involving other people. 

The next time he comes back into the world from his research, he sees that Lumine has already set up a rather large sleeping bag. Paimon has also been moved, and she continues to sleep on Lumine’s right, the content so evident on the child's face that Albedo cannot help but be amused. 

When Lumine notices him looking, she once more pats the empty space to her left. 

He stares at her this time, and she tilts her head, considering what it is she wants to say, and Albedo wonders just what the combination of words is going to be. 

“Care for another study?” she asks, and Albedo raises an eyebrow. 

“You're conducting another experiment?” 

“Yes. Shall I call it a study in warmth?” 

Albedo crosses his arms, furrowing his brows at this rudimentary implied thesis.

“It is evident that two people sharing a space will produce greater heat than one alone,” he says, and Lumine nods sagely.

“Indeed. But that is not the kind of warmth I'm studying.”

He blinks at her, somewhat unsure of her meaning. He opens his mouth, closes it again. 

“So,” she says, smiling a little at his speechlessness. “Will you help me derive results, or not?”

“I...will,” he says, slowly, curious as to what exactly she is trying to do despite himself. 

Sleeping beside someone does not deter him. He and Klee have often fallen asleep together. He and Sucrose have slept in their lab before as well. In the Dragonspine, when Timaeus is here for an extended stay, they sleep back to back too. One cannot forgo extra warmth in such a bitterly cold area. While there are some alchemical adjustments that Albedo has made to his camp so that he can conduct his experiments in peace without having to worry about freezing to death, he does have to be careful with his resources here, as it is much more difficult to transport or to request materials to be transported for him. 

So he does not feel odd when he slides into place beside Lumine, who throws an additional quilt (a gift from someone, perhaps?) atop them. They lie down and stare at each other, face to face, for a while before Albedo turns to his side. After a moment, he feels Lumine do the same, her back pressed against his. 

“...Is there a reason behind this experiment in particular?” he asks.

“I dislike sleeping alone,” Lumine replies easily, as if she were prepared to answer this question. “It doesn't...feel right.”

He remembers, now, that she had been cruelly separated from her brother, whom she traveled her whole life with. He supposes this must also be why Paimon, despite being able to fold herself into some other space, is out and about much of the time. 

“I see,” is all he says.

“And you?”

“I suppose...I have never quite thought about it. Klee will come to my room, sometimes. And sometimes I will stay with her in hers. I sleep when I need to. If I cannot, I work. I suppose I have not considered being lonely in sleep.”

“And otherwise?”

“Hm?”

“Have you considered loneliness, otherwise?”

He can feel that she has turned again, facing his back now. After a moment, he turns, too. 

“As I said. Dispelling it is not essential for life. But it does not hurt.” 

“And has it hurt before, oh Kreideprinz?”

He is not sure he likes to hear that title from her, no matter how softly she says it.  

“I do not always notice until I am without it,” he admits after a while. 

...Ah.

He blinks in realization. Lumine notices, and her lips curl up into a little smile.

“I’m glad,” she says, not to his words but what his expression reveals.

He pauses.

“Why….should you be glad?”

She raises an eyebrow.

“Are you so quick to take back our friendship?”

“Oh, no,” he says frowning a little at the thought of losing her regard as such, “But even as friends…there are greater things to occupy your mind, yes? Especially for you. To be concerned for my loneliness takes up unnecessary space in your mind that would be better spent on more important matters.”

She blinks at him.

“Ah, but important by your standard and not mine, isn’t it?”

He pauses.

“Perhaps. But does it change nothing if I say you need not be concerned for me?”

Her turn to pause.

“I suppose it could change a little. But by that logic, if I say that you need not be so…academically interested in me, does that reduce anything?”

“Ah, but you have questions about yourself that you cannot answer, and so even you are not uninterested in yourself. So how will you be able to convince me that there is nothing of interest about you?”

“Are you so uninterested in your own self, then?”

“Questions that I used to have have been answered. Perhaps there are new things here and there to discover. But I no longer find myself an interesting subject of study.”

She stares at him for a moment, not speaking, then her eyes grow ever so slightly amused.

“I think,” she begins, considering her words again, “I should like to give you a new question about yourself to ponder.”

He blinks, waiting for the said question, but it does not come. Instead, she yawns.

“It’s gotten even later,” she murmurs, eyes half-lidded, “You, Sir Albedo, are an unexpectedly noisy bed partner.”

He blinks at the wording, though her tone is light.

“My apologies, I got carried away,” he says, and she smiles a little at that.

“Do you dream, Albedo?” she asks, after a few heartbeats, her voice growing quieter.

“…Not often, no,” he replies.

“Then you’ll have to forgive me for mine,” she says, turning to the other side and drawing Paimon closer, “Wake me, if I…if it gets to be too much.”

The end of the conversation is clear, though he wishes to ask what she means. And yet, he thinks he may understand.

By her breathing, he knows that it takes her a while longer to fall asleep. He thinks about their backs pressed together, the slight difference he feels in this contact compared to other times he has done such a thing.  

When her breathing slows, Albedo finally closes his eyes, and rests.

.

He is a light sleeper.

Albedo wakes to a distressed murmur, and he half-rises before he realizes it is coming from Lumine.

“Wait!” she cries, “Aether…don’t go!”

She reaches out a desperate hand, and reflexively, he grabs it. The contact seems to ground her, and though she lets out another strangled sob, she quiets.

Albedo stares. Again, he is not so unfamiliar with this type of thing; Klee has had nightmares before too, and takes comfort in his presence those nights. But the feeling is different now, and he is not so sure that he should be…allowed…to do this.

Another soft noise, and he looks over to see Paimon sitting up, peeking at him from Lumine’s other side.

“Keep holding her hand?” Paimon requests, as she closes the small gap that has formed between her and Lumine throughout the night, snuggling close.

“Alright,” Albedo says, and lies back down.

After a moment, he touches his forehead to the top of Lumine’s head.

“Don’t go,” Lumine whispers again.

Albedo does not answer her; he cannot promise her that, and nor is he the one meant to be answering. But he closes his eyes and continues to hold her hand, and thinks about the warmth generated between them.

.

Albedo wakes before her; he does not need as much sleep as many others, and quietly slides himself out of the sleeping back to get his day started. The blizzard has quieted overnight, and he is glad that he will be able to go back out into the field with some proper preparations.  

He begins making breakfast, adjusting the setup over the fire to accommodate a frying pan for pancakes. When he flips the first one over, he can hear Paimon floating towards him already. There’s a slight initial sound associated with it, and he wonders about the source—and reason for it. Another thing to research, if he gets permission one day.

“Pancakes!” Paimon exclaims, her tone still a little sleepy. “Paimon wants…hmm…fifteen!”

Albedo glances at the bowl of batter, calculating the portions.

“Might you have more ingredients in Lumine’s bag?”

“Sure do! Hold on a sec.”

He watches as Paimon floats back over to the still-sleeping Traveler, patting her cheeks a little.

“Lumine! Lumi, bag!”

The girl in question mumbles, holding up her hand. Paimon catches the bag as it materializes, and carries it over to Albedo.

“Here! Careful, though. Even Paimon doesn’t know everything that’s in it!”

Questions, questions, questions abound. The bag too seems to follow the odd principles of the Traveler and her companion, in that it carries far more than it looks like it should. Or is it Lumine’s power, or perhaps a combination of hers and Paimon’s, that allows for the bag to do so?

He glances at Paimon, considering asking, but decides against it, as he does not think she will be able to answer.

Nevertheless, pancakes. He quadruples his usual recipe, and by the time he is done flipping and Paimon has eaten five with copious amounts of honey and berries (procured once more from the Traveler’s mysterious bag), Lumine has gotten up, yawning.

“Good morning,” she greets drowsily, seating herself beside the fire.

“You slept hard this time!” Paimon says, “That’s good. You should sleep more.”

“Mmm…” Lumine murmurs absentmindedly, then blinks as she realizes what her companion has said.

She turns to Albedo, expression vaguely surprised, her mouth open to say something; he blinks at her unassumingly, and after a moment, she forgoes asking. She looks at the tall stack of pancakes instead.

“Have we cleaned out your supplies?” she asks, and Albedo shakes his head.

“Paimon procured your bag from you while you were still half-asleep; I may have cleaned out yours.”

“Standard occurrence, when one must feed Paimon,” Lumine says, and Paimon protests through a mouthful of pancake. “Fine. And myself,” Lumine chuckles, and Albedo hands her a plate of breakfast. “Oh, thank you. Is there anything else in there that you need?”

As it turns out, he does need more butterfly wings, horsetails, and flaming flower stamens. She insists on giving them to him, saying that she has too many of them right now anyway.

“You should really stop picking up everything you come across,” Paimon chides.

“But you never know when they’ll be needed,” Lumine counters sagely. “Like now, to give to someone.”

Paimon cannot contest that, and relents. Albedo takes the materials gratefully.

The group cleans up and packs up after breakfast; with the storm no longer raging, Albedo wants to make use of the daylight for field research, and Lumine and Paimon must be on their way too. There’s a domain at the summit they want to reach before night falls. They spend the next half-hour or so at Albedo’s crafting table, and he watches with approval as they make a plethora of potions and to aid them on their travels.  

After they are all appropriately bundled up, he walks with them partway.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Lumine says at their parting point, Paimon echoing her sentiments.

“It was a pleasure,” he says, “Thank you for cooking, as well. And…I hope your study had a positive outcome.”

Her eyes crinkle.

“There were some interesting results,” she says, “And more questions, perhaps. But such is the nature of research, isn’t it? The answer to the bigger question will reveal itself eventually.”

Albedo tilts his head, wondering about the tone of her voice, holding his hand to his chin in thought.

“A bigger question?” he queries, “So your…study in warmth was part of a more complex equation?”

She looks both sheepish and a little distant at that, hesitating a bit before speaking.

“…Call it a study in happiness, if you will.”

“…Are you not happy?” he asks, surprised.

“Ah, that is not what I said.”

Albedo stares, scrutinizing her expression, and she raises an eyebrow, scrutinizing him in turn. After a moment, she uses her foot to dig a small trench in the snow, as if she is deliberating about whether or not to actually answer him.

“My brother and I traveled together, just the two of us, for a very long time. I have never been without him until now,” she begins, her voice eerily flat, “I dream of him often; I dream of chasing him, unable to catch up no matter what I do, and him telling me that I’ve come too late. That I could be happy without him was inconceivable. And yet, I’ve managed to find joy during our time apart, too. So—was I…were we truly happy, then? Even if happiness is many things…even if it can exist independently of one another…that frightens me. So now…when we meet again, can we be happy together the same way we were before?”

Albedo is silent. She continues.

“So I suppose I am searching for the truth behind happiness. For many people, it seems to begin with what or where they consider home. Aether and I…our home…it has been lost for a long time. And now…?”

“…And now?” Albedo prompts, when she trails off for too long, her gaze faraway.

She blinks, and focuses on him again, her tone blasé.

“A home could be many things, too. It could be a country, or a city. Or a cave.” She pauses. “Or the center of someone’s palm.”

Albedo blinks, feeling…strange. Something in the conversation has turned, and his skin prickles. Paimon, who had been listening in rare silence having been unable to keep up with the conversation, looks between the two of them curiously.

“So…what is a home, and what is happiness? Perhaps you will beat me to such an answer, in your search for the truth of this world,” Lumine finishes, offering him a small smile.

He closes his mouth that he hasn’t realized fell open a little.

“I…will be sure to let you know, if I do,” he replies, uncertainly.

“I’ll visit you again sometime,” she says, waving as she half-turns away, “Or if you see me, please say hello.”

“I…will,” he replies, holding up his own hand in goodbye.

“Bye, Albedo!” Paimon exclaims, seeming relieved that the difficult topics have passed, and the two are off.

Albedo watches them go, only putting his hand down when they disappear into the distance. He stares at his hand for a while, and as he does, a crystalfly flutters into his palm.

Gently, he closes his fingers around it, and transforms it into a bird. The creature, baffled at the change, flutters its wings in rapid, confused panic.

He turns it back into a crystalfly hastily, realizing that such a bird would not be able to survive in this frigid climate. It flies off after that, its path a little off-kilter.

He watches it go, realizing belatedly that his heart too beats a different rhythm.  

[sykilik101]

Take Two

“You guys, I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

Brock waved his hand dismissively, that annoying grin he’d worn for the past half hour still plastered on his face.  “You’re worrying too much, Ash. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Getting sent flying from here all the way to the other side of Kanto?”

Tracey reached across the table to place a hand on Ash’s shoulder, his face much more relaxed and friendly but no doubt hiding the same level of mischief as the breeder next to him. “Trust me, I think this is gonna go great.”

“I’m sure you think so, since you’re not the one who has to...” His tongue turned to knots as he failed to complete his sentence, though the blooming shade of pink on his cheeks spoke on his behalf. “Why do I even have to do this?”

Brock’s smirk grew in amusement, however impossible that seemed. “Well, you’re the one who said-”

“I know what I said,” Ash interrupted, irritation melding with his fluster, “and I’m starting to regret it.”

“If it makes you feel any better, Ash, I called this back when we were traveling together.” Tracey’s voice seemed filled with a genuine sense of care, despite not having objected to this idea at all.

“I’m feeling better already,” Ash replied with a roll of his eyes before turning to look out the window of the Pokémon Center. At the behest of his two older friends, the group had all decided to come to Cerulean City to meet up with a certain redhead Ash was more than fond of. “Besides, I didn’t even really know back then, so how could you?”

"Call it a watcher’s intuition." Tracey added a thumbs up to emphasize his point, though Ash was less than impressed at the boy’s enthusiasm.

"Next you'll tell me that everyone else knew, too.” Crossing his arms, Ash glanced out the window momentarily before turning back to his friends. The two boys looked at each other, exchanging a nervous chuckle. Ash raised an eyebrow before realization slowly kicked in, a blend of horror and humiliation forming on his face. “Y...You two are the only ones who know, right?”

“W-well, we’re pretty sure that she definitely doesn’t know, and as far as we can tell, we’re the only ones you told,” Brock responded, suddenly avoiding eye contact.

“But beyond that, well...let’s just say there’s a good chance that I’m not the only one who, well, called it,” Tracey finished, also finding his gaze drawn to something other than Ash.

The boy in question placed his face into his hands, processing his friends’ admissions. It was true that people over the years had egged him on about his romantic status with her, but he’d always just dismissed it as harmless teasing. The idea that these other people had actually noticed, that he’d been that obvious, was more than he wanted to believe.

The scariest part, however, was that she was a smart girl. “I’m sensitive to others’ feelings.” That’s what she’d said back during their first battle when he was trying to win the Cascade Badge. If everyone else could see it, there was no way she couldn’t see it, right? For all he knew, despite what Brock had said, she was fully aware of how he felt.

But he hadn’t known how he felt, at least not right away. Something about the possibility of Misty recognizing his feelings before him made his head spin. It wasn’t as if things ever became awkward between them because of some potential romance, nor had he gotten any vibes that he’d made her feel uncomfortable in any real way. Maybe she knew, but she was able to continue their best friendship going in spite of that; it wasn’t as if he’d ever treated her differently. Or, maybe she actually didn’t know and he was just overthinking all of this.

He shook his head, taking a breath to try and calm himself down. He couldn’t believe he was really about to-

“I think I see Misty!”

Tracey’s voice broke him from his trance, his gaze snapping to the window. He caught sight of a blaze of red hair making its way towards the center. The gears in his brain went into overdrive, his body buzzing as he watched her viridian eyes slowly coming into focus. Under any other circumstances, he would feel elated to see her, but all he could focus on was the tension in his chest.

I guess this is it.

The glass doors of the Pokémon Center slid open as Misty made her way inside. She looked around for a moment before her eyes eventually landed on the group, a bubbly glee immediately growing on her face. “Hey, you guys!”

“Hi, Misty!” Brock and Tracey replied in unison.

Satisfied at the other two’s greetings, Misty turned to Ash, a playful grin etching itself onto her lips. “What’s wrong, Ash, aren’t you gonna say hi, too?”

“Uh…” The gravity of his situation pulled at his stomach, his mouth dry as his brain tried to recover from hearing her voice in person again. “H-hey, Misty, what’s up?”

Her eyes slowly narrowed suspiciously, leaning towards him. “Is something the matter, Ash?”

Images of what he was supposed to do flashed through his mind, and her face being so close made them much clearer than he wanted them to be. His racing thoughts and rapidly shrinking throat, combined with the sudden increase in temperature, shattered his remaining composure. Without a word he passed Misty and grabbed hold of Brock’s wrist, pulling the boy to the other side of the Pokémon Center.

“Ash, what are you-” Brock started, having managed to pry his hand away, but Ash interrupted him before he could finish.

“Brock, I don’t think I can do this after all.”

A look of confusion grew on Brock’s face, and Ash was grateful it wasn’t the jestful one the breeder had worn before. “Why not?”

“Because she’s so…” He glanced back over at a clearly confused and ever-so-slightly agitated Misty, seemingly trying to force answers out of a distraught Tracey. A fresh coat of pink tinted his cheeks as he stared at her for a few extra moments before turning back to Brock. “...she’s so different now.”

“Different?” Brock took a glance at the girl as well, wincing as Misty took a menacing step towards the watcher. His face relaxed for a moment before that annoying grin returned. “Oh, you mean she’s pretty? Are you absolutely smitten by her, Ash?”

“Brock!” Ash fought to keep his voice hushed, too embarrassed by Brock’s words to even give him the satisfaction of looking back in Misty’s direction.

“Ash, it’s totally fine to think your crush is pretty. In fact, you can tell her you think so after you-”

“I told you, I don’t wanna do this anymore!”

“Do what anymore?”

Ash suddenly found himself practically cheek to cheek with Misty, who’d wrapped her arms around the pair’s shoulders while aiming a leery gaze at him. “What exactly is going on?”

Ash tried to invoke an answer from his chest, but all that came out was silence, his mouth hanging open as he tried to keep calm at Misty’s proximity. Annoyed with his lack of a response, Misty turned to Brock, who flinched before holding a hand up.

“Trust me, I’m not up to anything. It’s all Ash this time.”

Traitor.

Misty once again directed her attention to Ash, who backed away enough to remove her arm from around him. “You’re always up to something, aren’t you, Ash?”

“No, I’m not, and trust me, you’d know if I was!” There was a moment of bliss as he was able to articulate something to her, but that vanished just as quickly when Misty put her hands on her hips expectantly. Brock’s presence as a third wheel seemingly clicked in his head as he discreetly made his way back over to Tracey. Suddenly alone with Misty and irritated at Brock’s retreat, Ash’s gaze went to the floor, along with any semblance of confidence he had. He pursed his lips, working past the lump in his throat. “I was just…I just wanted to…”

He waited for Misty’s usual interrogation tactics, but she didn’t move, didn’t utter a word. Sneaking a look at her face, he found not annoyance but confusion. “What did you want, Ash?”

The softness of her voice coursed through his mind and down into his heart. He stood motionless, realizing that all his daydreaming and planning hadn't truly prepared him for this. It seemed so easy in every mental replay and imagining of this moment, but now he could only falter as Misty stood before him with that trademark pout on her face. He bit his lip, trying with all his might for his body to allow him to just speak to her. “I mean, I...I was just…”

Misty leaned in until she was less than a foot away. “Ash, are you okay? You look kinda red.”

He was, of course, not okay. Ash knew that if they continued to talk, he’d only make a bigger fool of himself, not to mention risk annoying Misty with his barrage of syllables rather than actual words. He decided to do what he’d always done in the past, which was to rely on his gut. He just wished it wasn’t telling him to do this.

Ignoring the stares of the two boys in the background, the confused gaze of the girl in his foreground, and the overcharged beating of his heart, Ash removed his hat, closed his eyes, and gently pressed his mouth to hers.

He'd been given enough kisses from his mom and various girls throughout his journeys, so he thought he had an idea of how to give one himself, but the sensation of her lips on his threw any expectations he had out the window. His body's need to breathe was at odds with his desire to not move a muscle and he wasn't sure which side he wanted to take. The only thing keeping him grounded in reality was the miniscule sensation of her lips shivering against his, though he wasn’t sure what to make of it.

With the faintest smacking sound he eased away from her. Misty had a temper whenever he did anything stupid, and this was certainly a contender for one of the dumbest things he’d ever done. He bit his lip, still able to recall the way hers had felt on his. She made a noise, like a small gasp, and that was enough to give him the fortitude to meet her gaze.

Utter shock.

He’d expected many different emotions, planned for every potential visit to the emergency room, but the expression she wore now meant that this turn of events wasn’t one she expected. He stood ready for Misty to scream at him, hit him, or any other ideas she could concoct to make him pay for what he’d done.

It was a surprise to him, then, when she suddenly turned on her heel and bolted out of the Pokémon Center.

“M-Misty, wait!” He called, but the glass doors had already started to close. A wave of guilt crashed over him, his blood running cold as he watched her back moving further away. He stood motionless for a moment before a flicker of determination coursed through him, clenching his hands into fists.

I knew this was a bad idea.

“Ash, you should-”

Before Brock could finish Ash had already raced through the front doors, willing his feet to move as fast as they could carry him. She had a decent lead on him, as she was just barely staying within his sight as he chased her, but even if he lost her he had a good feeling about where she was going.

The roads of Cerulean eventually revealed the gym, and Ash caught a glimpse of Misty entering it before the doors closed. Making his way to the entrance he slowed to a halt, resting his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. He wiped his forehead and glanced at the doors, thinking that Misty was inside, the same Misty that he’d kissed. His lips contorted meekly, standing up fully and taking one last breath. Hopefully he could find her and make her understand what he felt.

Making his way inside he glanced around, hoping to find some trace of her. Unsurprised at not seeing her anywhere, he began scouring the halls, pondering where she could be. If she were trying to hide from him, she’d probably find one of the various rooms within the gym to hide in. However, given the look on her face before she’d fled, it was more likely that she was trying to find somewhere for comfort, and if that was the case, there was one place in the gym he was sure she’d be.

It took less than a minute to find the door to the gym’s pool. Standing before the entrance Ash rested his hand on his overcharged heart. In a voice almost too quiet to hear, something was telling him that once he entered the pool area, everything would be different between them. He could only hope it would be for the better.

Easing his way inside, he immediately saw the Cerulean City mermaid sitting along the edge of the pool, her legs submerged beneath the water. The noise caught her attention, her cheeks turning a shade of red he could make out from the entrance. She just as soon turned her gaze back downwards, though made no attempt to escape. His internal dictionary was going haywire, trying to find the right words to put together as he made his way towards her.

Standing by her side he shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, suddenly finding the same fascination for the pool water she seemed to have. “H-hey, Misty.”

Her silence only heightened the buzzing in his mind as he desperately tried to replace the memory of his lips on hers with ways to get a conversation going. He cleared his throat, considering that maybe she hadn’t heard him, despite the quiet of the large room. “So I, uh…”

His voice seemed to get her attention, as her head tilted in his direction. He could just barely make out her eyes gazing at him, though the red sear across her face was more than visible. Hers was an expression of confusion and vulnerability, and it sent another guilty shock through him. “Misty, I-”

“Why?”

It echoed through the room and reverberated into Ash’s chest. He watched the corner of her jaw clench and relax, recognizing it as how she'd hold her tongue from saying something she'd rather not. He wanted to hear what she had to say, reigning in his explanation in favor of awaiting her reply.

She turned her head away, hiding her gaze from his. “Why did…why did you kiss me?”

Hope and hesitation permeated her words. Though her eyes were hidden from him, the way her fingers jittered in her folded hands said more than enough to him how she must be feeling. She let out a shaky exhale and Ash suddenly found himself scrambling to find an answer for her. “Misty, I kissed you because...I, the reason I kissed you-”

“ASH!”

He’d been the recipient of her screams many times throughout the years, but the look of seething venom dripping from her face was wholly new to him. She appeared to be just barely controlling her words, her knuckles white as she gripped the edge of the pool. She let out another exhale, her voice dropping hauntingly low. “Why did you kiss me?”

Deciding that his fear wasn’t worth the potential trip to an emergency room, Ash clenched his fists, closing his eyes so he wouldn’t have to think about it. “Because Brock and Tracey said it would be a good idea!”

Ash was worried that her response would be a terrifying one. In reality, it was the silence that followed that gripped at his heart. With his eyes closed, he could only hear the gentle hum of the air conditioner up along the ceiling. However, next came the sound of something leaving the water, though uncertainty kept his eyes closed.

It was the sudden slap to his cheek that forced them open.

Misty looked as if she were on the verge of a mental explosion. Her face was flushed, the bashful pink she’d worn in the Pokémon Center having morphed into a wrathful red that absolutely terrified him. With every passing second he grew more and more regretful, along with swearing off ever listening to his two closest male friends again. All the same, Misty’s assault jolted Ash’s familiar flare. “What did you do that for?”

“You mean to tell me you kissed me because they said it was- why would it possibly be a good idea, Ash?!”

“Because they said I was better with my actions than my words!”

He’d spoken before he’d had the chance to think about what to say to her, which he felt only solidified their point. All the same, he expected that his remark would only anger her further, so he was pleasantly surprised when some of her irritation seemed to dissipate and be replaced by suspicion.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Though her voice was still low and tinted with irritation, the fire in her irises had lessened the smallest bit. Words swam through his head as he pondered what he could say to even answer that correctly. The most obvious was the truth, but even attempting to form the syllables was enough to make his vocal chords seemingly vanish. However, he grinned in exasperation; maybe that wasn’t the answer. If his actions worked better than his words, then maybe going down that route would suit him better.

He took a step forward, closing the gap to less than a foot between each other. Her body tensed up, but she remained in place. Thankful for her inaction, he extended his hand forward, curling his fingers around hers. His thumb ran along her knuckles, unbidden glee rising in his chest as he savored the softness against his skin. He’d held her hand before, but this was more intimate than any other time. In spite of the hesitation written all over her face, she seemed to agree, her grip tightening as a reflex before loosening.

The atmosphere cleared the fog in his brain, and words which were previously scrambled now seemed to form into something coherent. Staring into her eyes, he swallowed his fears and took a breath. “Well, when you kiss someone, it’s ‘cause, I mean, you know…” If Misty was the smart girl he thought her to be, she’d be able to finish the statement on her own.

At this point the fire had dwindled to a flicker, but his words seemed to restore the soft oceanic waves in her irises. All of his prior apprehension and fear gave way to relief and excitement. The fact that she wasn’t immediately dismissing him or acting awkward told him that his earlier concept of an alternative option was no longer just a possibility, but a certainty.

Misty inhaled a shaky breath, her eyes darting back and forth between his. “So...you mean, you…”

Ash nodded, a giddiness bubbling within him as that redness in her face went soft again. She also appeared to be at a loss of words, likely processing that this was really happening between them. She turned away slightly, clearing her throat. “W-well, kissing me out of the blue like that was still a dumb idea, Ash.”

He shrugged and nodded somberly, a tint of remorse blemishing his previous elation. “I know, but after I told Brock and Tracey, they sort of insisted.”

Misty rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I’ll have to have a talk with them later, but more importantly, Ash…” At this some of her former flare returned, though it had lost all its malice. “That was my first kiss you took without thinking.”

Her first kiss.

In all his excitement and anxiety he hadn’t even given the notion any thought. Guilt permeated his every thought and he immediately scrambled for a way to fix the damage. “I-I didn’t mean to! I was just, I only wanted…” He put his hands in front of him, lowering his head. “I’m sorry, Misty, I’ll do anything to make it up to you!”

She didn’t respond right away, her arms crossed as her gaze went sideways. Her mouth fidgeted as she bit the inside of her bottom lip. Ash watched her fingers piano on her arm as her eyes flickered to him, then to the water, back and forth in rapid succession. He waited with bated breath, anxious at whatever could be going through her mind.

“One condition.”

Misty’s voice was almost too quiet to hear, and Ash probably wouldn’t have heard her if not for the hollow pool room. She was looking back at him now, anxiety showcasing itself all over her face. Ash slowly raised his head back up, his hands falling to his side.

“I’ll forgive you under one condition.”

“S-sure, okay.”

Her hands clasped together, once again tensing and relaxing against each other. She took a deep breath, surprising Ash as her blush somehow grew to match her hair. “So...I’ll pretend that...that the first one didn’t count, but...you have to…”

Hesitation filled her eyes as she stared into his. There was something she really wanted, he could tell, but she was afraid to say it. “It’s okay, Misty. I’ll do whatever you ask. Y’know, as long as you don’t make me give up Pokémon training or something.” He chuckled in spite of himself, somehow thinking that maybe a joke would lighten the mood.

He couldn’t tell if she found it funny, but something about what he’d said softened the tension on her face. She clasped her hands behind her back, closing her eyes with a shake of her head. When they opened, he found a newfound relief in them, as if something had clicked in her that had eliminated whatever was worrying her.

“Ash, I want you to give me a first kiss that does count.”

The cheery sweetness that so blatantly belied her previous nervousness was enough to paint a stroke of ruby across Ash’s cheeks. Confidence that he’d seen in Misty multiple times before had returned, and though the sudden switch in their emotional states caught him off guard, the familiarity of this side of Misty brought with it more of the reason why he’d fallen for her in the first place.

“So, you mean that…”

Misty nodded, her lips pursing bashfully. “It’s like you said, Ash, you only kiss someone you, y’know…” The return of that familiar smirk of hers was enough to send a flutter through his stomach.

He grinned cheekily, reaching up and removing his hat. “So I know I kissed you already, but to be honest, I don’t really know what I’m doin’ as far as kissing goes.”

Misty rolled her eyes playfully. “I’m not surprised. All your kissing experience comes from random girls and possibly a Pokémon, and none of those were on the mouth.” She pointed at her lips for emphasis, which only served to remind Ash of how they’d felt against his and how he’d be savoring that sensation again shortly.

“At least it’s still more experience than you.”

“I’m sure I could’ve gotten kissed if I really wanted to!”

“Maybe in your dreams, Misty!”

“I mean it! Plenty of guys would have been happy to kiss me! I was just saving my first one for-” Her retort came to a screeching halt as she processed what it was she was about to say. The implication alone was enough to light up their faces, though Misty was quick to look away, scratching at her cheek. “I-I mean, y’know…” She fiddled with a strand of her hair for a moment before she looked back at him, nervous elation flooding her eyes. “I guess I’ve kinda, sorta thought about this for a while now.”

Part of Ash was happy that she still seemed to have a semblance of awkwardness around this situation to match his own. He’d known for a good while that he felt something for her, but her words implied that she’d probably felt the same about him for the same length of time, perhaps longer. All those long walks between cities he’d spent daydreaming of hugging her, holding her hand, kissing her...if she was being truthful with him, she’d done the same as well.

With a breath that didn’t seem to carry enough oxygen, he held his hand out to her. If her request was a first kiss that truly counted, he was going to do everything in his power to deliver. She placed her fingertips in his palm, anticipation in her eyes. Even if he was more sure of how she felt now than he was with the first kiss, the expectation of this second one made it feel just as difficult.

“Should I...should we close our eyes?”

The question sounded dumber aloud than in his head, and for a brief moment Misty seemed to feel the same. To her credit she resisted her desire to retort, smiling with a shake of her head. “Ash, you already kissed me, so you should know what to do, right?”

Ash pouted, ducking his head slightly. “Well, I just kind of...did it. I didn’t have much of an idea of what I was doing.” He grinned sheepishly, grateful that Misty didn’t look too annoyed. “But you want this kiss to count, and I do, too; I want to make sure it’s perfect.”

Misty’s eyes went wide, a new flush rising to her cheeks. She was frozen for a moment before her gaze danced about. An awkward smile grew on her lips, her fingers twirling a loose strand of her hair. “I’m not used to you being this sweet.”

Ash chuckled. “And I’m not used to you not being that mad at me for something.”

Misty rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t that mad.”

He pointed at his cheek. “That slap says otherwise.”

Misty’s eyes clouded over for a moment, and Ash swore he saw regret somewhere in there. In an instant, though, her expression relaxed once more, and she appeared as though an idea sparked in her mind. Without a word she leaned forward, pressing her lips to the spot she’d smacked. Ash froze, wondering if the sudden smell of chlorine was from the water or Misty. After a moment she moved back, a sheepish grin decorating her face.

“Better?”

Ash pressed his fingers to where her lips had been, his heart still replaying how soft it had felt. It had only been twice that Misty’s mouth had been on him, but he could tell it was an addiction he now had to live with. His face was on fire and he suddenly found the pool to look especially appealing. Clearing his throat he returned her grin. “Better.”

She returned her hands behind her back, looking especially pleased with herself. “So, are you gonna kiss me or not?”

Despite his elation, a bundle of nerves still took residence in his stomach. He’d thought about this for ages now, but the reality was scarier than he’d anticipated. This rapid heart beat wasn’t new to him; he’d felt it numerous times over his journeys, but it was always something related to some goal he had. This time the girl he liked was involved, and the quiet of the room seemed to make the fear in his head louder. This wasn’t like a battle where he could train to prepare for-

A light bulb lit up in his head and he grinned to himself. Maybe if he warmed himself up, it would go much smoother. He placed his hands on her shoulders, feeling her momentarily go tense before relaxing. Her breathing was shaky, that tender shade of pink cradling her eyes. If nothing else, he was happy to see she was as nervous as he was. He nibbled at his bottom lip, letting out a small exhale.

Here goes nothing.

Leaning forward he planted his lips on her cheek, his mind racing to process how soft it was. He allowed himself to remain there, savoring her smell and the way he could feel her blush against his mouth. His mind kept reminding him that he was kissing Misty and it was all he could do to keep his composure.

Fighting against his nerves, he finally moved away, taking a glance at Misty’s face. Glimpses of bliss shone in her eyes, but confusion muddled her expression. Slowly she smiled a bit meekly.

“Ash, that was nice, but that’s not where you’re supposed to be kissing.”

He nodded. “I know. I’m just kinda nervous, so I thought I would practice.”

Misty cocked her head gently to the side. “Practice?”

Ash nodded, his tongue tying as he knew what would come next. Calling upon the bravery that had aided him for years, he placed another kiss on her cheek, this time just above where the last one was. With each passing second he placed one after another on her, slowly moving from her cheek to her temple, and then to her forehead. Between kisses he could hear his mind reminding him that this was Misty, that he was really doing this with her. None of his previous daydreams prepared him for this, but the adrenaline coursing through him was doing well enough to keep him going.

He eventually placed a kiss on the tip of her nose, at which she finally reacted with a soft giggle. The sound sent a flutter through his stomach, moving back to look her in the eyes. “Ticklish?”

She shook her head, her lips quivering. “Just happy, and still not believing this is really happening.” Her voice was tight, as if she were doing everything in her power to keep her composure from breaking. The cusp of tears hung along the bottom of her eyes and it was enough to tug at Ash’s heart.

He reflexively pulled her into his arms, one hand wrapped around her waist and the other rubbing her back. She returned the hug, leaning into him and nuzzling her face into the nape of his neck. The sensation of her exhales on his skin sent shivers down his spine. “I just want your first real kiss to be special.”

Misty hummed into him, pulling him closer. “Ash, my first real kiss is all yours. I’m sure it will be.”

Her offered ownership sent a thrill through his body, pulling away to look into her eyes. In all the years he’d known her, he’d never seen the expression she wore now. Hope and affection permeated every fiber of her gaze and he found himself being slowly drawn in. And yet, he held his place, serenely content with the view. This was the side of Misty he’d been wanting to see for as long as he could remember, and the fact that she was here showing him meant more than any words he could come up with. He settled for softly smiling to himself, an act which invoked a puzzled look on Misty.

“What is it, Ash?”

Watching her mouth create words was hypnotizing, though he was able to pull himself out of the trance. “I was just thinking that I can’t believe I get to kiss you.”

Misty grinned bashfully, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Well, you kind of owe me one anyway, so…”

There it was, that smart sass of hers that had pulled him in and never let him go. There was always something between them, some argument or contest that stirred up a confrontation, no matter how harmless. It always thrilled him, kept things exciting. She both pushed and tested him, always encouraging him to be better than he was. The fantasy of always having this girl by his side gave him that familiar flutter inside, the kind that spurred him on to be brave against whatever odds were in front of him.

“Mist, I’m not doing this just because I owe you.”

He pulled her closer to him, watching the way her eyes dilated from being less than a foot away from his. He heard the faintest gasp escape her lips before they curved upwards, quickly gaining a sheen as Misty ran her tongue along them. She moved even closer until her mouth was mere inches away from his.

“Then hurry up and kiss me, Ash.”

Her whisper was intoxicating and inviting, and any semblance of apprehension Ash had left evaporated. As if on instinct, his hands moved to her face, running his thumbs over her cheeks for support and his own satiation. For a moment he found himself frozen in place, once more mesmerized by the color in her eyes. The growing excitement in his stomach pushed through his paralysis, pulling her mouth towards his. He started drawing in a breath to control his heart, but before he could finish he’d already pressed his lips to hers.

The first time he’d kissed her, it had been to confess, a way to convey how he felt about her. Second-guessing thoughts had whirred in his brain, and he hadn’t been able to savor it in the mutually loving way he’d hoped for. As Misty exhaled the tiniest bit, her mouth gently opening before closing around his bottom lip, a warm rush surged through him and it took all of his self-control to keep from grinning like an idiot.

Misty apparently lacked that willpower as he felt her warming cheeks pull upwards in his palms. She leaned further into him with a hum, the hold on his neck tightening as she brought him closer. Their lips had scarcely moved, but it was enough of a sensation to send his heart flying across his chest in random directions. His body couldn’t decide between staying in hesitation or succumbing to its impulses, but the way her mouth nudged his gave him his answer.

He pulled away slightly, taking in another breath before pressing back into the kiss. Her arms relaxed around him, and if he didn’t know any better the way she began to slouch against him was almost like she was melting. Releasing his hold on her face his hands found her hips, his fingertips resting on the fabric of her shorts as his thumb grazed her skin. She arched towards him, her sudden inhale becoming his new favorite sound.

Like a light going off in his head, Misty suddenly felt too far away, and he craved her closeness in a way that was novel to him. A moment of exploration later and he’d found the belt loops of her shorts, hooking his fingers inside them and pulling her against him. This earned him a gasp, another addition to the reactions he was evoking out of her, reactions that were becoming more and more addicting. That smirk that had been nagging at him finally broke through his overthinking, elation and excitement bubbling away inside him.

It wasn’t until Misty finally eased back that he realized how out of breath he was. Their foreheads rested against each other as they gasped for air, their exhales echoing through the room. As his heart rate began to slow, Ash opened his eyes to the sight of Misty’s staring back at him. Every syllable of giddy pumped through his veins, staving off the sudden urge to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

“So...was that a good first kiss?”

Her smile went a mile wide, her giggle making his heart flutter. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.”

He chuckled in response, running his hand along the back of his neck. “I’m glad.”

“But you know…”

Her lingering voice hinted at any number of the possibilities he’d imagined in his head over the years, and the expression she wore was all of those feelings made tangible. “Yeah?”

“I want the second kiss to be special, too. And the third, and the fourth, and all the other ones after that.”

It was amazing how her sass could even find its way into their moments of sweetness, but it only emboldened the joy speeding through him. A heavy degree of self-control was the only reason he hadn’t devolved into a fit of laughter at the surrealness of it all, but he was willing to match her banter with his own. “What if I lose count, then?”

She pecked him on the cheek, clearly sharing in his jubilation. “Then you’ll have to start over, including making the first one extra special.”

He brought his hands back up to her face, absorbed in the warm softness of her cheeks and the glistening of her eyes. This was it. It was her, and he always wanted it to be. He pressed his lips to hers once more, savoring how soft they were and how tenderly she returned the kiss. Taking action had gotten him to this point, but maybe a few choice words wouldn’t hurt the intimacy. Easing away he knew she’d catch his sheepish smirk, but in his bliss he wasn’t inclined to care.

“Sorry, I’ve already lost count.”

Fun fact: the original idea for this story was for Misty to be the one to randomly kiss Ash. However, the more I kept developing and thinking about this story, the more sense it made for it to be Ash who did the kissing. In fact, once I reached the halfway point, the story went in a very different direction than I first imagined, but I decided to roll with it. This ended up having a bit more depth than the original, cutesy idea I had for it, but hopefully you enjoyed it all the same.