#the crossed off son somehow made me laugh xD

[yanqing-ask-blog]

Um- i was wondering if I can have next Friday off?

Hey dad i mean! Hey sir- i- uh uh I have a question

- @yanqing-ask-blog

Yes, what is it, son, Yanqing?

[certifiedbun]

Chorus Fruit

Cross posted on Ao3 and Wattpad by the same name :)

Puffy stood in front Sam with Foolish by her side. Sam stared quizzically and was confused on why she was here. Sam knew of Puffy’s relation to Dream and he knew Dream was a dangerous fellow that was manipulative and knew how to use his words. Sam didn’t think it was best for either Puffy or Foolish to enter the prison, but Puffy held her ground and somehow convinced Sam to let her in. Foolish who had been watching from the side was impressed by his mother’s skill.

“Listen Puffy, I just don’t think you should visit him.”

“Why not? I should be able to see my duckling Sam.”

“It’s the fact that he’s your duckling I feel you shouldn’t go.”

“Sam what could he possibly say? ‘Mom I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to’? He’s an adult Sam that shit won’t work on me.”

“... Alright but the moment I feel you’re gonna fall for his mind games I’m dragging you back. Same goes for you Foolish.”

“Mhm understood Sam.”

“Thank you Sam for trusting me.”

They went through everything they needed to and soon the three stood in front of the lava wall. On the other side Dream sat and Puffy was anxious to see her duckling again. Foolish was nervous to meet the infamous Dream. He knew of the horrible things Dream did and just how manipulative he was. Both their nerves were on fire and every slight sound made them jump.

When the lava was gone Puffy instantly noticed the man in the orange suit sitting on floor writing. His mask was off and on the floor but his face was turned away. Dream refused to let Sam see him without it. Once Puffy and Foolish were there Dream put on his mask and looked at them. Puffy saw him and rushed over to hug him.

“DUCKLING!! What hell is wrong with you?! You can’t seriously think what you did was okay?!”

“Mom.. I’m sorry.. I never wanted any of this to happen..”

Puffy knew that tone of voice, the somber low level. He was about to start crying and while Puffy knew she should leave right here and now, to yell for Sam to pull her back. She had to stay here.. She had to stay here and comfort her duckling, because that’s what good parents do..

“Duckling… What do you mean?”

‘“I never wanted to do the..hic...horrid things I did to Tommy… I never even wanted the exile to last all that long!”

“So why did you do it?”

“It wasn’t m-me Mom! I-I promise!”

“Duckling, calm down… Please tell me what happened.”

“It was DiDi.. He took over d-during the trip to take Tommy out...outside the city. I.. I was stuck watching ME d-doing horrific actions… Actions I’d never wanna do.. Please Mom, you know about DiDi. please believe me!”

Puffy was conflicted. She knew she shouldn’t believe him, knew that he was manipulative. But she knew about DiDi, that damned deity, and how likely was it that her Duckling, the boy she had taken under care when he was little, how likely was it he’d lie to her? Puffy should’ve left but she didn’t, she hugged her son and told him everything was gonna be okay heartbreaking with every sob she heard. 

Foolish watching as this happened and while he didn’t know Dream well from the things he’s heard, he assumed Dream was a tough cutthroat killer that felt no remorse. The Dream before him right now was nothing like the rumors. And if what he was saying was true, he never wanted to be all those things. Foolish looked around the room and noticed the book Dream had been writing in. It looked like a one-sided conversation but he was unable to decipher whether or not Dream was the one talking in the book.

“Dream please take off the mask..”

“Mom..”

“Take off the mask… take it off so I know… it's my son under there..”

When Dream took the mask off Foolish was unable to see his face but from the reaction Puffy gave he could only assume it was good. Puffy on the other hand stared at her son with a sad smile. The inky black tears that ran down his face was proof enough that it was Dream. Ever since he popped out that end portal and she took him in, he always cried black tears and bled black blood. She knew she’d have to explain a lot to Foolish but that could wait. She washed the mask in the sink and wiped her son’s face before giving it back. 

“If what you’re saying is true Duckling.. I will find a way to get you out.”

She hugged Dream and left with Foolish. Dream sat back down on the floor and watched them leave. Once they were all gone and he was alone he started laughing. He called out for someone and there was a splash from this little landing pad. DiDi crawled out laughing with him. 

“ ‘Mom please be-believe me!!’ My god Dream you sure you aren’t an actor?? Hahahah!!”

“Aw what can say DiDi, I’m just that good! Hahaha poor mom!”

“Her little duckling is an evil lil shit!”

Dream went up to the deity and gave the floating man a pat on the back. Puffy’s visit was unexpected and Dream had to hide the god so she wasn’t suspicious. DiDi teased Dream about becoming an uncle right after being imprisoned. But Dream was more curious on where he could go after escaping.

“Well that Tubbo kid started a new village.. You could always hide out there.”

“Really? Where is it?”

“It’s somewhere over there actually really close by. The kid named it ‘Snowchester’. Actually looks pretty good.”

“Who’s living there?”

“Uhh Manifold and Foolish. They’re the only ones living there at the moment.”

“Now how to get out..”

‘’Well you could cash in that favor from Techno and you always got Ranboo willing to help. I’ve been making sure of that.”

“DiDi you sick bastard, that’s amazing.”

“Yes, yes I know I’m amazing.”

“Puffy, Techno, and Ranboo are my only allies besides you at the moment. I need more people to visit me..”

“So you can give them the same sob story and gain their pity?”

“Mhm you know it buddy.”

They continued to talk and by the time XD left, hours had gone by. Dream spent the night walking the length of his cell and writing. His writing was frantic and wouldn’t make sense if you read it, which was everything he needed. He could spin a story from it and no one would question him about it. Meanwhile outside Puffy and Foolish were walking back to her home.

Foolish had wondered what that was about but knew this wasn’t the right time to ask. So he wait till Puffy was sitting at her table before speaking.

“Hey Mom?”

“Yea?”

“What was that today??”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Why did you say you were gonna get him out?! What is wrong with Dream!?”

“Listen Foolish, it.. There’s a lot to explain.. And to that.. I gotta start from the beginning..”

Puffy went to the kitchen and began making tea for the two of them. The sound of running water and the gentle wind helped calm Foolish’s nerves but he still couldn’t help but feel like he was going to learn something he shouldn’t. When Puffy returned she handed him a mug and sighed before speaking.

“It was ages ago but I still remember the day like yesterday.. I was mining for Niki because she needed something.. I think ores? Whatever it’s not important.. But while I was down there I came across an End portal..”

“An end portal? Isn’t the End off limits?”

“It wasn’t back then.. Back then there were plenty of portals no one felt the need to go though.. Anyways.. I was marking the area.. So Niki and I could visit.. But.. But as I did someone came out the portal.. A child.. He couldn’t have been older than 5.. He was just so cute.. Sandy blonde hair with the brightest of green eyes..”

Puffy’s voice was cracking and she stared into her mug with tears welling up in her eyes. She was trying to get the next few words out but couldn’t. It hurt so much to think back on the old days. All the smiles, all the laughs, all of it hurt so much. Everything was so much darker now and it made her miss the days when she could go outside and not see the egg or worry about her son.

“Mom.. I’m sorry you don’t have to continue..”

“It’s fine Foolish.. The little boy popped out the portal eating a chorus fruit.. I was so worried.. And my worry.. It only grew when DiDi showed up.. DiDi is the name Dream.. It’s the name Dream gave it.. It’s proper name.. If you could even call it that.. Was DreamXD. DiDi gave me a bag of chorus fruit and started to cover it.. I don’t know why.. DiDi and Dream came out of the portal and I don't know why the portal was closed off afterward.. But Dream was my son and I couldn’t give him up.. I just couldn’t.”

Foolish stood and hugged the crying Puffy silently wishing that he didn’t ask the question. He knew Dream was different but he never could’ve guessed he came from the End. Why did DiDi come out after him though? The two had to be correlated but how? Foolish didn’t have time to think about it, his mother needed comforting. 

Puffy cried as she thought about her sons, Niki, and her friends. Oh god all of them, they were all so important to her and she just let them slip away.. She should’ve been able to stop Dream from doing those things, convinced Niki to stay, or at least stopped Bad from touching the egg. All her friends and family were in danger and she left so useless. Why wasn’t she able to do anything to help them?

When Foolish returned home that day he was conflicted to say the least. He wasn’t here to see the things Dream had done nor was he here to see to him in the same light Puffy did. But today he learned things many others probably didn’t. How likely was it that people knew Dream came from the End? How likely was it that they knew Dream and DreamXD came right after each other? 

Foolish knew he would need to talk to Dream personally about this, but first he had to talk to DiDi. Foolish was preparing to leave when he ran into Tubbo who was working on his farms. The boy had no clue of what Foolish planned to do and he wanted to keep it that way. 

“Oh hey Foolish! What ya up to?”

“Hey there Tubbo! Oh nothing much what’s up with you?”

“Ah just farming and the like. Uh where are you going?”

“Oh I’m just going exploring might run into some interesting caves!”

“...Okay… Good luck then. See ya around!”

Foolish rushed off and Tubbo eyed him curiously as he walked away. Tubbo was suspicious but he had nukes to test so Foolish could wait for now. He made a mental note to keep an eye on him though. Foolish went to the Nether to collect blaze rods and potion making supplies. He would need the potions to protect him and he wanted to be as prepared as possible. He passed Ranboo but ignored him trying to do what he needed and leave the endless nether. Ranboo noticed Foolish’s flighty behaviour and decided to follow him.

Ranboo didn’t know why he was following Foolish but he knew he had to. Something was telling him to follow and he decided to trust it. He saw Foolish enter a Nether fortress and assumed he would be farming wither skulls but his heart fell to his stomach when he realized he was getting blaze rods. He was collecting more than needed for potions and he hoped Foolish was just over stocking but as he saw the man start looking for ender pearls he knew exactly what Foolish planned to do. 

Why was Foolish heading for the End? What could he possibly need? Ranboo’s mind was spinning as questions whirled through it. He needed to know more, maybe he could stop Foolish. Anything to prevent him from entering the end. But why was Ranboo so concerned about someone entering the End? How was it an issue for him? So many questions and so little answers..

It's when they’re in the stronghold does Ranboo reveal himself and Foolish immediately draws his sword. Ranboo throws his hands up and backs up mumbling things and silently begging for Foolish not to kill him.

“What are you doing here, Ranboo?”

“Listen I could ask you the same question Foolish..”

“I’m here to try and get much needed answers. Why are you?”

“The same reason! I want to know why you’re trying to get into the End. And I want-.. No I need to know what’s been going on..”

“Explain.”

“Alright so I sleepwalk nothing new there… but I lost my beacon one night.. And my pickaxes show signs of intense use.. I don't know where or why my things are like this and I need answers!”

“So you follow me? What makes you think I know?”

“Nothing but something.. I don’t know what is telling me to follow you..”

“...”

“Please Foolish let’s work together to understand.. And if it doesn’t help we forget this ever happened.. Okay?”

“Okay then.. Let’s go.”

Ranboo was thankful that he wouldn’t be dying soon but was fearful as they approached the portal. Foolish placed the Eyes of Ender in the frames and right before he placed the last one a loud bang and a bright light filled the room. Wind rushed through the underground room blowing out the torch's warm light. Soon the torches relit with a bright green light making the ominous being more intimidating and eerie.

The being floated above the portal and wore long flowing robes. He wore a mask similar to Dream’s except he had an ‘XD’ face  instead of a smiley face. Though the mask was smiling he could tell that being behind it wasn’t. It was cold and quiet and they regretted their decision to come here. 

Before either the two could speak the deity began talking. Its voice low and heavy, each word sounding like a threat.

“What are you doing here?”

“We’re here to ask you a few questions.” Foolish stated this, his voice slightly wavering while Ranboo stood back slightly afraid. This god, if you could call it that seemed, familiar. Ranboo can’t remember ever meeting him, but he looked at Ranboo like he knew who he was.

“Well then what questions have you come to ask mortals.”

Foolish looked at Ranboo before speaking. He knew this would come out sooner or late but he wasn’t sure of his reaction. However he chose to risk it.

“Why did Dream come out of the Ender portal? And why did you follow afterwards?”

“Oh so Captain Puffy told you I assume? Did she tell you the full story?”

“...”

“No? How sad.. Well I wouldn’t mind telling you the truth.. I know Puffy finds that hard to do...”

“Alright then get to talking1”

“Eager are we? Well I pushed Dream out the portal after learning of a child living there. On the other side there was Puffy and I figured she’d be able to find the boy a good home. I stayed here to make sure no one else fell into and got stuck in the End. I don’t know what you’ve heard but I’m not a bad guy.. I’m just trying to protect everyone..”

“Do.. Do you know where I came from? I know I’m part enderman but.. D-did I also come out from the End?”

“Huh? Why yes Ranboo you did. You were considerably younger than Dream at the time so finding a suitable place was difficult. But I think I did a good job no?”

“Do you know where my beacon went? A-and why are my tools so worn out?”

“Well little Ranboo why don’t you use context clues and go pay Dream a little visit.. If this is all you have to ask I’ll be going now.. But do not forget. I’m always watching.”

Wind came rushing back through the room and there was so much it knocked Foolish and Ranboo to the floor. It was dark for a second then the torches were relit and the portal was closed off. They stood up coughing and dusted off their clothes before looking at each other with grim expressions and nodded. 

They both knew what they needed to do. And neither were prepared for it.

While this was happening Puffy was walking. Walking through the Nether and through a dessert. It was far from the SMP but she had to come here. Memories of walking with Niki and Dream to this safe haven filled her mind as her feet walked to where they needed to be. As much as she tried to forget she could still hear Dream’s little shouts of ‘Ow hot sand hot floor hot floor!’ 

Tears ran down her face and blurred her vision so much she nearly screamed when she saw a brightly colored person rushing her way. The person in question was one Mr. Karl Jacobs, back from another adventure. Karl saw the dazed Puffy walking and decided to walk with her to keep her safe.

“Hey Puffy!”

“Ah!- Oh hello Karl.”

“Heyo what ya doing in a desert? Are you ok??”

“I’m doing fine.. Just going on a walk..”

“So far out?”

“Yeah.. Visiting my garden out here..”

“Garden? What kind of garden is out in a desert?”

“... A special one..”

“Is it sugar cane? There’s not much water here though...”

“No...”

“Cactus? Not sure why you would need a cactus farm but hey what-”

“It’s not cactus or sugarcane Karl..”

“Huh? Then what?”

“It’s chorus fruit..”

“Cho..CHORUS FRUIT?! WHERE DID YOU GET CHORUS FRUIT?? THE END IS OFF LIMITS!”

He stared at Puffy with wide eyes, stopping in his tracks. Puffy continued to walk and Karl had to run to catch up with her. Karl tried to stop her from moving and talk to her about this but his attention was soon directed towards the large gated garden full of chorus fruit plants. The tall plants held an eerie air around them. The hot desert suddenly felt like ice after he stepped into the garden. He watched as Puffy plucked the fruit and stared at it.

His mind was a buzz with questions. Where did she get the fruit? Who gave it to her? Why did she have a garden full of it? Was she ok? Karl didn’t know. Puffy collected a chest full of the fruit and handed him some. 

“Puffy what do you want me to do with this..?”

“Just take it.. Please..” “Puffy what’s wrong?” “.. Everything Karl.. Now leave please..”

The wind blew causing sand to toss and turn. Puffy looked at Karl with sad eyes as sand blew higher and higher, she turned and started to walk away. Karl chased after her but the sand hurt his eyes and by the time the sand settled Puffy was gone and he was alone in the garden.

Karl looked around trying to find the Captain but was unable to. The fruit in hands however had a familiar feel to them. He didn’t know why but it felt like he had these before. He had never been to the End but the longer he looked at the purple fruits he felt nostalgia…

He decided to put fruits in his bag and look over them back home. Now if only he knew where to go. How did he even get here? Where was he coming from? Karl rushed to find his books and a sigh of relief emerged from him once he did. By the time he came back to the SMP he saw Puffy talking to Tommy and Tubbo, while he was still very worried for her well being he chose to let her be for now. He saw her still holding the basket of fruit and looked at his bag full of it. Tommy and Puffy walked away and it made him wonder if she was giving chorus fruit to everyone. He hoped she wouldn’t because no one knows what the consequences of that might be. Arriving at his home he saw Sapnap and Quakcity waiting for him.

“Ay where have ya been Karl?”

“Yea we missed you!”

“Ah I’m sorry! Didn’t even realize I was gone that long to be honest.” Karl laughed as he said this but when he noticed they weren’t laughing with him, he looked them confused. They looked at him concerned and confused and started to check if he was sick. 

“Guys, guys I’m fine! What's the issue?”

“You’ve… you’ve been gone for a month Karl..” Sapnap said slowly. Karl’s eyes widened as he dropped his bag. He rushed over towards the calendar on the walla and stared at it heart dropping to his stomach. They were right. An entire month has passed. Quackity noticed his bag but chose to ignore the strange feeling he got from it. It wasn’t important right now. What was important was Karl’s health.

They brought Karl to his bed and had him lay down on his bed before questioning him. Karl answered the questions to the best of his ability but soon found himself drawing blanks on certain parts of his memory. He couldn’t remember things that happened and there were things clearly missing from it. It was like a puzzle without all its pieces. It was painful trying to remember and it worried Quackity and Sapnap more. 

Why couldn’t he remember where he was for a month? Why was his memory so skewed? They chose to let him rest but they never left his side the next few days. Ranboo and Foolish on the other hand were trying to think of how they could get Dream to talk about Ranboo’s tools, if he even knew about it somehow. 

Ranboo knew his visit to the prison would be scary and now with this added pressure it would surely be worse than anything he could imagine. He needed his panic room. He had to get there so he could calm down. He just had to. He rushed to the room but was hit in the head by something. Looking around and finding no one he glanced down to see what had hit him. Chorus fruit.. 

[2manyfandoms2count]

#LadynoirJuly Days 20&21

Today I discovered there’s a limit to how many characters you can type into a note on your phone (if you’re wondering, it’s around 15,000). Anyway, it’s already August and I still have 10 days worth of prompts to write, everything is fine XD

I hope you’ll enjoy this double prompt, it’s a long one! I had a lot of fun writing it :D Ladybug finally gives her umbrella back to its rightful owner... It’ll be continued in the next prompt!

@ladynoirjuly2020

Next

---

Days 20&21: Déjà vu and Reveal

The skies had been threatening all day. Ominous black clouds hung low over Paris, ready to burst at any moment, charging the air with electricity. Paris anxiously awaited the release, which would bring back the temperature to bearable levels.

Marinette was prepared for any situation. Her bright yellow summer dress allowed her to be comfortable in the heat, while the umbrella at her side guaranteed protection if she was caught in the rain. And also, she hoped, attention from a certain blond-haired boy. 

Indeed, she hadn’t picked just any umbrella as she left her place, going for the large black one that had been sitting in the holder for more than a year, instead of her small, practical one. Surely he’d notice. She wasn’t sure she was ready to give what she had come to believe was a symbol of whatever it was that united her and Adrien back to its rightful owner, but she doubted it would come to that. 

Walking home at the end of the day, she didn’t know whether to be disappointed or glad it hadn’t. In fact, the boy hadn’t even noticed her unusually large accessory. The thought that perhaps he didn’t remember their fateful conversation in the rain had crossed her mind, but she’d promptly shut it up. Even if he believed it was only the beginning of their friendship, she couldn’t bear to think it had been an inconsequential interaction.

Thus, it was with a feeling of melancholy that the young girl had made it to patrol, her umbrella safely stored inside her yoyo. Chat Noir’s punning and messing around had done little to cheer up his partner.

“You’re claw-fully quiet today, m’lady. What’s bugging you?” He nudged her as they surveilled the city from the top of the Arc de Triomphe. He kept his tone light, but was troubled by her sullenness. 

Ladybug sighed profoundly, her hands cupping her face as she leaned against the railing. “Heart troubles.” She pouted. She wished she had Chat Noir’s confidence when it came to love, and his resilience. 

“I’m sorry.” He patted her lightly on the back. 

“No you’re not.” She snorted, turning around to face him. He was glad he’d gotten at least a smile from her.

“You know me so well, it’s like we’re made for each other.” He smiled, holding himself back from stroking her pigtail. “I just can’t believe there’s someone stupid enough to pass by you, when you’re claw-ly the most amazing person out there.” Marinette came very close. But Ladybug would always be the top of the amazingness scale. He wouldn’t resist her. She had her flaws, but who didn’t?

“He’s far from being stupid.” She sighed again, recalling the perfect Brevet Blanc grades she’d caught him promptly shove in his bag as Madame Bustier distributed them. “Besides, I’m not sure you’d say that if you knew me as a civilian.”

“Bugaboo, the mask is but an accessory.” He said with flourish, earning himself another smile. “Really, it doesn’t change who you are, deep inside. It might give you a boost in confidence, but that’s it. Master Fu wouldn’t have chosen you, otherwise.”

“Thanks, Chaton.” He was right. Of course he was. She knew she was great most of the time, but sometimes, doubt invaded her mind. Mostly when she was trying to start a conversation with Adrien. Why was it so hard for her to keep her cool in those cases? She inched closer to Chat and laid her head upon his shoulder instead of delving into an answer. 

She let herself close her eyes for a second. Just then, raindrops started to land on her face. Lightly, at first, almost inconspicuous, making her nose crinkle at the slight inconvenience. Then the rate picked up, and suddenly her eyes were open and she was sprinting with Chat, vaulting themselves off the Parisian monument and onto a nearby rooftop. They ran, their suits preventing them from slipping on the slick slates, and slid down under a parabola for temporary protection, laughing at the thick curtain of rain that surrounded them. It almost concealed their surroundings. A small stream gathering at their feet had them huddle closer under their makeshift shelter to stay dry.

“Want to join your friends?” Ladybug quipped, lightly nudging her partner with her elbow as she eyed the pouring rain.

“Huh?” Chat looked at her inquisitively.

“You know… It’s raining cats and dogs, you’re a cat, all that jazz…” She trailed.

Chat let out a small laugh and shook his head. He loved that Ladybug was trying to joke around more, but she still had a good way to go before reaching his level of ultimate pun king.

He was about to reply wittingly when a nearby church rang 7pm. His face paled.

“I need to get home.” He was expected at the dinner table in fifteen minutes, sharp, in perfect state. His father was gracing him with his presence, for once. 

The rain around them was relentless, the clouds somehow darker than they’d been up until then. They had ventured further from his place than usual. It seemed like everything was teaming up to prevent him from getting back on time. He flinched a little as he got ready to pounce out in the rain.

“See you later, m’lady!” He jogged out with an arm held out over his head, which did a poor job protecting his blond mane.

Ladybug watched him run, his hair almost instantly getting soaked. She thought about the contents of her bag. Well, of her yoyo.

“Chaton, wait!” She raced after him as she opened her multifunction weapon. Chat Noir turned in time to see her pull out a large umbrella. He stopped in his tracks as she approached.

“Have this, I’m in no hurry.” She panted slightly as she came to a halt near him.

“You’re a regular Mary Poppins, you know that?” 

She laughed as she opened the umbrella and handed it to him.

A flash of lightning illuminated her face as their hands touched on the handle, her mask paling in the bright light.

Chat felt an odd feeling of déjà vu as he received the accessory, although it felt like he was reliving a past scene from another perspective. Aside from the stronger rain, the way they were both standing reminded him of another umbrella handover, one he’d thought about all day. He hadn’t known how to bring it up with Marinette earlier; she probably hadn’t thought twice about what umbrella she’d picked in the morning, and if she did, he definitely didn’t want it to seem like he wanted her to give it back. He liked to think she had something of his, and secretly hoped she did think about him when she saw or used it.

Standing like this, her arm extended towards him so as to protect him from the heavens, he felt like he was in Marinette’s shoes. Over a year ago, the situation had been reversed, the blond boy handing shelter to a girl in pigtails. The umbrella closed upon his head, and Ladybug laughed freely at the sight, just like he had when it had happened.

He laughed along and tried to shake the feeling away, to concentrate on the matter at hand - the clock was ticking - but as he reopened the umbrella, a very familiar logo on the handle caught his eye. It was discreet enough that an untrained eye would miss it. To a common mortal, what he was holding was the most basic black piece of rain equipment one could find. Well, purr-haps not the most basic, but there wasn’t anything particularly exceptional about it. For the son of a designer, though, and more precisely, of the person who’d designed this particular accessory, there was.

Had it been any other piece of clothing from Gabriel designs, Adrien wouldn’t have questioned how Ladybug had come to own it. Although on the expensive side, it wasn’t rare for him to spot Gabriel sneakers like his own, or even jewellery. The prime example was his classmate Sabrina, who wore the same broach his father had designed for his mother.

The umbrella, though, was a different matter. They weren’t sold anywhere, his father deeming their commercialisation was not worth the manufacturing price. They kept the few prototypes at the mansion for their personal use, and if one of the rare clients his father received in person got caught in the rain on his way back. The number of people who owned one could probably be counted on the fingers of a hand.

Since Ladybug was clearly not one of his father’s clients, who were all at least in their early fifties, there were two other options: either she was one of their daughters, or…

Another flash of lightning lit her face up again, and this time it took all of his will not to drop the umbrella, as her mask almost disappeared in the light. If what he saw was real, he truly was the luckiest boy in the world.

“Bugaboo, where did you get this?” He asked slowly.

She frowned in response. “A friend gave it to me, why?” It was just a black umbrella. Apart from Adrien, Chat was the only person she felt confident lending it to. She’d want it back, though.

“Which friend?” He insisted.

“You know I can’t answer that, Chaton.” She pursed her lips. “Also, weren’t you in a hurry?” She inched closer to him to be within the protection perimeter. Her pigtails were already drenched.

He dismissed her question with a wave. “My father can wait. Can I answer how you got it for you?”

“You can try, but I doubt you’ll get the right answer.” She wondered what the big deal was, but listened expectantly. There was no way he could know.

“My guess is that you stood up for yourself and confronted Adrien Agreste on his first day of class, and this was his version of an olive branch. I didn’t peg you as someone who’d give it away to the first alley cat, though… Marinette.” He kept a straight face, but his heart was beating way faster than the healthy range in his chest. Please Kwami, let me be right…

“Ma- ma- Marinette? Me? No. What?” She stuttered, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson shade. “I- er, well, if you do need to know, she’s the one who gave it to me!” She added hastily.

“Are you lying?” Chat leaned towards her with a smirk, and she hated the sense of déjà vu that overcome her. What was it with blond boys questioning her lies by getting in her personal space?

“N- no?” She slapped herself internally for her answer coming out as a question. She usually was more confident than this. She was Marinette, for Kwami’s sake. The chosen Ladybug. The only person she got nervous around was Adrien Agreste. Who, she noted, sometimes acted exactly like her partner was acting right now.

Chat Noir took a step back, his smirk still plastered on his face. “You know, I would believe you, if it weren’t for the fact Marinette was carrying this particular umbrella all day, and then went home to work on our History essay that’s due tomorrow. Not sure there would have been any time for you to swing by.”

Ladybug gaped. “How… You can’t…” 

His smiled widely seeing she’d given up on denying her identity. “Possibly know that? Think again, m’lady.” He winked and strolled towards the edge of the building. “Thanks for giving this back to me, I purr-omise I’ll bring it back tomorrow.”

“Adrien?” Her eyes went wide as she realised the implications of his words.

He gave her a salute as he jumped off, his heart still singing at the reveal.

“Wait!” Ladybug yelled out in the night. “You can’t just drop a bomb like this and just leave!”

Her partner had already disappeared behind a building, though. 

Ladybug stood helplessly under the rain, thoughts racing through her head. Blasted cat, what am I supposed to do now?

[shadowfae]

1- Not much tbh, just what you've posted, and 2- To be honest I quite like your long answers. It can definitely wait though, you should get some sleep.

Is your warpriest link a constant thing? Does it ever fade into the background? I'm contemplating forming a second link, something happier than my copinglink, and I'm not sure how to tell when to tell when the line of a link vs a persona is crossed when not worn out of necessity.

And the original ask so I have it on hand. I did take a look at your original context, and if you're cool with it, I'll edit this post with a link for those who may find this is a useful answer and need that on hand. Otherwise, it'll stay a mystery.

But yes, it seems like my Sabe experiences would be a useful thing to talk about here. And in order to do that, I need to go over four things: who and what Sabe is, why he exists the way that he does, what that does for me, and lastly what I think he is in terms of terminology and why.

To start, here is his toyhou.se profile, if you want to read more about his actual story and thoughts and whatnot. But I doubt you'll have the necessary context for that, so let me go into it. RuneScape (RS) is one of the oldest MMORPGs in existence. WoW might be older but I doubt it. Basically it's a medieval magic fantasy that's very long running and you the player end up the World Guardian, aka the guy that stops the gods (who are very powerful folks who just don't die of natural causes and typically stand for some philosophy) from blowing the world up because Guthix, the dead god of balance, asked you to. Well, he voluntold you. And that makes you a major chess piece, Elder Gods get involved, it's a big mess.

But before all that happened, back in 2006 when I was introduced to the game and very shitty at it, well. I liked the lore insofar that I've always liked the lore, it was interesting and I liked thinking about it. I didn't have membership and I sucked at playing so I just read the wiki and the God Letters over and over and sometimes the Postbag from the Hedge. Alongside my two friends, we played at being children of the then-triad of main gods: Saradomin, Guthix, and Zamorak.

I liked Zamorak best, but I didn't think his ideas would be the best for society as a whole, so I ended up playing child of Guthix. Eventually we grew up and grew apart but every couple of years I'd go back to RuneScape, read the lore, settle on what choices I'd make if I could play, and think about being the player character. In 2010 I discovered a fic - dawn by khayr, it's on Ao3 and dA - about Iban, son of Zamorak, right around when I was reading Percy Jackson. Cue him showing up as a soulbond and an older brother figure and guiding me right up until the end of sixth grade. Iban got me through the ruthless bullying that would later set the stage for all my major suicidal-ideation and self-hatred for the entirety of high school: even then, I was more stable than I might've been otherwise, because he interfered.

Saradomin stands for strength through order. Procedures and law and diplomacy and war strategy. He was originally kind of a ripoff of the Christian god, but he's grown to be more of an order-over-peace character and is quite well-written. Guthix stands for strength through balance, and has been all over the board in terms of what he's done and will do. He's kind of a dick, actually, but his heart's in the right place.

Zamorak, as you've heard, is strength through chaos and personal strife. It's no "the strong over the weak" or "the strong take care of the weak", it's flat-out "everyone is strong, and just need the right circumstances to tap into it to be the best they can possibly be". Now, his philosophy is kind of more for warriors and scholars, but if you tilt your head, it applies to everyone. Chronically ill folks will find their chaos in fighting to get up every day and maintain a life. Folks in traumatizing, abusive situations find that chaos in their very survival. Scholars challenge themselves and their fellows and their predecessors trying to find the answers they so need. Nobody in lockstep, no such thing as "we've always done it this way."

A lot of human Zamorakians and Saradominist propaganda says that Zamorak is simply absolute evil: and to be fair, when most of that was written, he kinda was because he was based loosely on the Christian devil. Later writing says that they're typically mistaken on that. Zamorak isn't evil. The very first thing he did upon becoming a god was fulfill a promise and lead a slave rebeliion. (The Avernic uprising, if anyone's curious.) He stands for the downtrodden and says "You are never going to get your dignity by going through the motions and trying to peacefully show you're worth respect. Burn some shit down and prove that you won't stand for this bullshit."

Zamorak in a Saradominist's eyes is someone whose banner you wear when you want to be a crazy murderer. Zamorak in a Zamorakian's eyes is the singing voice who murmurs "Get up, this isn't enough to kill you, you can still do this," when transphobic laws get passed or you hear a slur thrown your way on the street.

And as someone who grew up queer and nonhuman, yeah, that resonates, and the older I get the more I think "Guthixian philosophy is best for a society at large, but Zamorakianism for individuals is good." Because Zamorakianism can't really apply on a theocratic level. It really doesn't. It turns into American bootstrap culture and no social services and all that shitty stuff.

The funny thing is that Zamorak himself has no issues helping out if he thinks you need it. (If he didn't, he wouldn't be cool with asking for help, or giving it when he's asked. Which he does do repeatedly so. The man has more kindness in him than people want to admit.) What I do find fascinating is what he thinks of the actions of some of his longtime subordinates, who clearly support him, but I don't think support his actual philosophy. Because if you ask me, he'd side with the downtrodden humans of Meiyerditch, not the vampire lords that treat them like cattle. He's proven that he likes humans, and doesn't see them as unworthy. I do wonder if Jagex will show us what he might do about that.

Either way. Ahem. Over the course of a decade and a half, I keep going back to RuneScape, refining my philosophy and side, thinking again what I would do playing the game proper. About... I want to say five years ago, Jagex opened up the Sixth Age and I finally noticed, and they rewrote every god's philosophy because they wanted every single one to be actually playable. Not just "hurr durr evil" but actually have a logical line of thought. They probably didn't have pop culture paganism in mind, but the gods of RS are incredibly well-suited to it.

Well, I found that out, and immediately went through every god's philosophy, and reasoned my way through it. What does a worshipper of this god look like? What sort of life would they lead? If i apply this to me, what does that look like from that perspective? Do I understand this? Is it comfortable to exist in?

And as it turns out, I understand Zamorak the most, followed a close second by Armadyl, which was quite surprising. Zaros remains incomprehensible and I don't trust like that. (That's another story.) So I thought about it more, and it stuck even when I wandered off to different fandoms and interests. But what happened was that I ended up internalizing it, unknowingly and without meaning to.

It meant that when, two years later, I ended up in a horrific and traumatizing situation, the anchor I hit that held me together was a mixture of being a Devil - I am a fucking God you will obey me and recognize my power - and Zamorak's core philosophy: this cannot kill me, this cannot stop me, this is pure fucking hell and I am going to laugh in the face of death because people are forged in hellfire and I will walk away knowing what I'm made of.

And I was right. Honestly, out of everyone who was there with me, I think I'm the only one that was that deeply entrenched and walked out without trauma. I do not believe I could have done that had I not internalized Zamorak's philosophy. (That isn't to say if the others had that philosophy they wouldn't be traumatized, because there were absolutely other factors I wouldn't know about and some that I do and didn't do them any favours; but I am saying that it saved my ass and without it, I might not have been okay.)

I walked out of that with zero regrets. Zero. Even now, I don't regret a thing. Because it doesn't matter what happened or how much I was lied to or if he deserved my kindness. I know what I perceived to be happening, and I know how I reacted, and when the pieces were down I was stronger than steel, gave kindness without considering the cost, and I walked away unscathed.

How many people can say they've looked death in the eye and laughed? More than there should be, not too many that knowing what I'm capable of when put into pure chaos isn't somehow impressive. Because it is. And Zamorak's words proved themselves, or rather, I proved him entirely correct.

And when I last went back to RuneScape, and thought about it with enough time to put it all into hindsight, well. Aw, shit, he was right. Then vaguely around that time I went back and read Dawn, which was unfinished, tracked down the author and demanded to know how it fucking ended. (She told me and we're still friends like three years later. xD) Then I went back and found my old OCs, and decided fuck it, I'm making my own World Guardian.

So first thing I did was log in and jump over to the Makeover Mage and make myself into a boy. Kept the plateskirt though, I wanted to have the RS equivalent of a limp wrist to prove I'm Very Queer. Then I went about remaking my character. I wanted to make a self-insert, I was old enough to know it wasn't cringey, it was just fun, but I didn't want to use my default avatar with the black hair over one eye and the Chaorruption. I wanted to make a new self-insert based in nothing I was already using.

So I made the most beautiful man I could! Long, dark brown hair, pretty semi-dark skin, looked Kharidian, and then I said fuck it and made him Zamorak's youngest son. Originally, he was adopted when he was young by Iban and Clivet, and suffered serious imposter syndrome when being WG meant he'd never get demigod powers. But as I grew more confident in myself, he ended up getting powers? And then eventually I rewrote his backstory, and then wrote about his mother, and her relationship with Zamorak, and then he had friends like Blaire and Icthlarin (who was also my furry awakening, rip me).

Then with the most recently questline I've been getting a bit more into RS magical theory, and I've been mulling it over lots, and Seanan McGuire's Middlegame definitely helped; and I figured out how I wanted him to handle being World Guardian: it didn't make sense for him to be openly Zamorak's son, the other gods would just target his family to manipulate him. So I had him play neutral openly and Zamorakian to his friends, effectively living a double life.

Then he just looked up one day and said "Oh, by the way, my father won't acknowledge me to keep me safe but I don't know that so we have a very unsteady relationship because I don't know if he loves me", and then Children of Mah came out, and he was all "Oh and I think I just got disowned (I didn't, Zamorak was protecting me, but I don't know that) so my relationship with Zamorak is Fucking Shitty" and he was stuck that way until I figured out how to save their relationship.

It culminated in Sabe not knowing how his Mahjarrat powers worked and guessing, and hating himself for being half-and-half, and missing everything about being a Mahjarrat, and literally you couldn't have gotten more obvious in order to tell me I was having Fucking Issues coming to terms with the fact I didn't have any understanding or knowledge of my own heritage, but whatever, eventually I noticed that.

And as I've been working to understand myself and my heritage, so too has Sabe been doing that with his Mahjarrat heritage. But for the longest time, no matter how I put him and Zamorak in the same room in a scene to try and get them to talk it out, it wasn't working. Something wasn't right. Sabe resented being World Guardian, hated having to betray his family, didn't know if he was wanted, and hated himself for having to kill Mah, the mother of his species.

Not that long ago, a few months actually, he informed me (which is my shorthand for 'I suddenly figured out this happened, and it genuinely feels like remembering that one fucking word you have on the tip of your tongue, I always knew and just forgot for a while') that no, he'd been ripped in two by a hope devourer, brought to his father's stronghold, and Zamorak split his magic between mortal and divine in order to get around his godproofing and heal him. Zamorak's intense worry for his youngest son was what caused Sabe to break down and tell him honestly what was going on and how he was feeling, which caused Zamorak to do the same, and they finally, finally made up.

A week later, I noticed the connection between Sabe's Mahjarrat issues and my Irish issues, and started to wonder if he was a linktype.

I mean... he's a self-insert. He makes the choices I would, the me in the here and now, that I think are best. He's not a person I was and still know myself to be, he's not someone I grow into, he's not living his life beside me like a shadow. He's me, choosing the things I do, because I say so. But he's also me in the things he reflects, the things he struggles with, and things I had zero fucking conscious input on.

Sabe is the person I am when a crisis hits and I have to deal with the chaos. Sabe is the person I am when I need to lead. Sabe is the person I am when I am desperate to be known and loved by those I consider family. Sabe is the person I am when I want to be sure in where I came from, where I will return to, and the things that I will always be. Sabe is a man of darkness who knows the light as an acquaintance and nothing more, who is cruel and careless and kind.

Sabe is a warpriest of Zamorakian philosophy, because it took me twenty fucking years to put into words how I see the world, and now that I know, I will argue them to death and use them to help others. Drakath may have wanted a messiah to share the hivemind with others. Sabe is a warpriest, spreading the word and calling home the broken and the damned. He is the Last Rider, not the last of the Ilujanka but the one who keeps riding towards the chaos and never falls, no matter what.

Some of who Sabe is I have conscious input on. A whole lot of him was unintentional and perfectly reflects me.

So when it comes to terminology... I don't know what he is. A self-insert, yes. A linktype, maybe. A kintype, also maybe. Sabe doesn't feel like my past linktypes, because Sabe isn't always catharsis and comfort. Until he made up with his dad, Sabe was brutal and hurt a lot and constantly yearning for his foundation and slowly going mad. It wasn't fun. I just refused to do anything but see the story through. I was going to get it right. I wanted to see it to the end. I wanted to be the Last Rider, even though I didn't phrase it that way.

But to answer your actual question, of what he feels like when I'm not actively being him out of necessity, desire, and active thought. If it fades into the background.

And like... it can? Sabe as he is, recognized for what and who he is, is kind of a new thing. Sabe as a concept is very old, but Sabe as what he is right now is new, and confusing, and honestly I'm still trying to figure out what to make of it.

Like, seriously. Sabe is Zamorak's son. Am I Zamorak's son? Is he keeping an eye on me as I am? Would he be proud of me? Would he offer his approval of my progress? Does that make me, in some way, the World Guardian?

I have not a clue, buddy. Not a goddamn clue.

So what it means is that I've been paying attention, really. I don't just become strong in times of crisis. I've been trying to do better. Be better. Learn, and listen, and rethink myself. Break out of lockstep, of doing things the way I've always done them. Try to always do better than I did, build habits I like, stop waiting for things to change and just do it. Become the chaos, instead of waiting for it to hit me.

It means I need to live up to what Guthix told Sabe to do. It means being gentler, being kinder, not burning bridges when I'm not sure. It means keeping an eye out for any sign Zamorak's listening, in case I am his son, in case I really have to decide what I'm gonna do about being the son of chaos incarnate.

But other than the questioning, what it feels like is just... what I was already dealing with, just a little more at arm's length and easier to deal with. Once I recognize that his issues are reflective of mine, if I solve his, I have a pretty good idea of how to solve mine. Some of it won't work exactly right - Zamorak will always forgive him for not being the son he expected he might have had, my own parents may not, yay I'm queer and pagan - but it's a good rule of thumb.

It's also just comforting to know that when in doubt, nothing can kill me, because I simply refuse to die. I am World Guardian, I am a demigod of chaos incarnate, all the hellfire in the world can do nothing but strengthen me. And if I present those to myself as unshakeable beliefs, because for Sabe they are, then I'll be okay. It probably couldn't stop most disasters or tragedies, but I got hit by a car, broke five bones, and walked away with a record recovery time, so I mean... I can't prove that I can't die by some accident or tragedy, but you also can't prove that I can. (Trying to do so usually falls under what we call 'murder', and I personally believe I can't be murdered. Only assassinated.)

But really, I think the worst that could possibly happen with a new linktype is that you learn what not to do. It's new, it's scary, it's chaotic, and from where I'm standing, that's the best way to learn.

[sparkie96]

Well since your opening request >:3 Can you do we’re Chris and Bsaa infiltrate Simmons place after young Leon (age difference) is kidnap and found him strip naked and Simmons is there? Yeah I’m evil hehehe

Forewarning, this is a spoiler for a future update (or maybe a fic, you’re gonna have to figure that out because this is gonna be vague as all hell. Everything is not what it seems, so the writing might make you think it’s one thing, but it’s actually another. Hint: It’s not Omegaverse XD)

Anyway, RE2 Remake Leon in Simmons grasp? It’s more likely than you think. Thank goodness Chris is gonna come and knock some of Simmons’s screws loose (if there’s anything left in there). 

_____________________________________________________________

Mr. Simmons was a really peculiar guy and to be completely honest, the man made Leon’s skin crawl. The young man had no idea how long he had been here nor did he really understand his purpose here. Was he supposed to be Simmons’s guest? His lover? Leon wasn’t really sure, but the rules the man gave him were really odd. Like, why wasn’t he allowed to go beyond the fence without supervision or an escort? And why wasn’t he allowed to bathe without Simmons being there on certain days? 

Like today, Leon had to let the man help strip him out of his clothes and the man had to help him with his bath. The twenty-one year-old stood before Simmons, not letting him touch him, thus making Simmons a bit disappointed and definitely impatient. 

“I’m not doing that.” Leon said, crossing his arms with a pout, “I’m twenty-one. I shouldn’t be letting you help me with something like bathing. I’m old enough to bathe by myself.” 

Simmons snatched him by the arm, the motion unexpected as the man tsked him with a shake of the head, “You’ve been such a good boy, Leon. You’ve been behaving so well...and now I’m disappointed in you…” 

“Let go…” Leon warned, pulling at the grip that seemed to only get stronger, “Let go!” 

Simmons only held on tighter, his other hand snagging Leon’s chin before canting his head upward to look into his eyes, nails biting into the tender flesh and making Leon wince, “You better behave or you will make me very angry...and you’ve seen what happens to those who make me angry, haven’t you?” 

“I just want some privacy!” Leon protested, “I’m not asking to move the fuck out!” 

The pinching pressure of nails biting into his skin disappeared, but only so Leon could be consumed by the blinding white pain against his cheek. Leon gasped as the slap finally registered in his mind, blue eyes blinking the stars out of his gaze. His cheek became hot, stinging as a bruise began to blossom under the pale skin. 

He had never been slapped by Simmons since he woke up here. Occasionally scolded or reprimanded, but never hit. 

The man wagged a finger in his face, tutting him about his language and misbehavior. He reprimanded him, saying that he had given Leon anything he could ever want, and now the young man was being ungrateful. He then reminded Leon that he could rescind his kindness and Leon could go join “the others” down in the basement. He was sure the lady downstairs would love to have a new toy to play with and pull apart. 

“Or…” Simmons said with a smirk, noticing the look of horror in the younger man’s eyes, “You can behave and follow the rules. So...what will it be, hm?” 

Leon took several deep but shuddery breaths before shutting his eyes. His arms slowly raised upward, Simmons praising him with a “good boy” before those cold and clammy hands found their way to the hem of his shirt. Leon fought back the angry tears as Simmons stripped him of his shirt, discarding it in the laundry hamper before moving on to his sweatpants. He winced as those cold hands slipped into both his pants and his boxers, skinny, spider like fingers ghosting over his warm buttocks. 

“Can’t you just take them off nor-?” Leon began to ask before being cut off by Simmons shushing him, reminding him to behave once more. 

Leon bit his tongue, wanting to curse and lash out but deciding not to, letting the pervert strip him of his pants and unwillingly letting the man touch him. A disgusted shudder rolled through him, but willed himself to just...stay still and not react. He knew what happened to the others. He had heard the screams at night. He didn’t want to join them. He wiggled out of his pants and underwear, feeling them pool down his legs and then fall around his ankles. He stepped out, toeing off his socks as he now stood naked and exposed before the man. 

Leon couldn’t help but cover himself with his hands, blushing like mad, making Simmons laugh, “Good. Now, get in the bath so I can wash you.” 

Again, the younger obeyed without much protest. One lean leg followed the other as he climbed into the tub, feeling the hot water warm his body even more. Well, on the bright side, at least the water was warm. Last time, Simmons had been too painfully and awkwardly slow and the water had been almost chillingly cold. Either that, or it had been the man’s way of punishing him for pushing his limits and trying to climb the gate that lined the perimeter. 

“Good Boy.” Simmons purred, grabbing the shampoo and conditioner, lathering both in Leon’s hair before scrubbing his scalp. 

Good Boy...how Leon hated that phrase. It sounded wrong when Simmons said it...dirty even. Like, Leon knew that it was supposed to be a praise or even a term of endearment, but when Simmons said it, it made Leon feel disgusting. So much so, it sometimes made his stomach churn. It further confused the relationship between him and Simmons and made Leon even more sure that he wasn’t here to act as the man’s son or even a nephew. 

So...who was Simmons to him, then? Leon remembered the hauntingly familiar bodyguard he had had when Simmons had left for nearly a month, the man informing Leon that Simmons didn’t even have a wife nor did he have any children. Simmons had a cult...which, if Leon was being honest, freaked him out even more. 

Leon wondered where that bodyguard was now. He missed him. 

Leon leaned back and let Simmons dunk his head underwater, rinsing the soap out of unruly brown locks. Simmons pondered aloud if they should dye Leon’s hair to a deeper shade of brown or blonde, Leon wrinkling his nose at that. He didn’t want to dye his hair, what if he didn’t belong here? What if there was someone out there looking for him? They wouldn’t recognize him if Simmons dyed his hair. 

“I don’t want to dye my hair.” Leon muttered as Simmons lathered a loofah with the bar of soap, “I like my hair the way it is…” 

“Now, now, Leon…” Simmons scolded, scrubbing his shoulders before the man leaned in and kissed the closest one, “I think you would look prettier with blonde hair.” 

“I’m not pretty.” Leon said, glaring up at the man, “And I don’t want to be a blonde.” 

Before Simmons could scold him once more, a loud bang from downstairs interrupted the man, making them both jump at the loud sound. Leon’s eyes widened, wondering if one of the beasts downstairs in the basement had somehow gotten free. Though, upon listening closer, Leon could hear gunfire...and last he checked, BOWs didn’t know how to fire a gun. 

The bathroom door had been kicked down and Simmons had been torn away from him, Leon’s eyes wide in shock at the man who had seized his captor. 

“Chris!” 

[knittingdreams]

Fireheart - Chapter 15

We all knew I was lying when I said I’ll post more often, I’m so sorry xD

Find more chapter in Ao3 (currently 32)

Or read whatever you missed from the Masterlist

CHAPTER 15

Testosterone for days

The stars were flickering in the moonless sky as the group of friends lied sprawled on the grass, empty cans of soda littering the space and loose papers and notebooks long forgotten on the table only a few steps away.

“What a beautiful night,” Thea said, her head resting on Kaya’s lap.

Sam glanced at his watch and got his phone out of the pocket of his black jeans. Celaena hadn’t texted all night, and he knew there was no point expecting her to, but she could at least reply to his texts. He typed another quick message wondering how the fight had ended and put the phone away.

Lysandra’s voice raised over the chit-chat that had taken over her backyard, always so commanding but caring.

“Should I order some more pizzas? Is anybody still hungry?” 

Everybody laughed almost in unison, telling her there was no way they could fit another single bite. She had fed them all kinds of snacks during the early afternoon, and had ordered enough pizzas to feed the whole football team afterward.

“Okay, okay,” Lys laughed with them. “I’ll go fetch some more drinks then.”

“Don’t,” Sam stood up from his spot on the grass next to her. “I’ll do it this time.” He needed to move, to get a little distraction to stop worrying about Celaena. He knew worrying was pointless, but he couldn’t help it.

“I’ll help you.” Aedion stood up from Lysandra’s other side and followed him into the house through the double glass doors. 

They walked through the kitchen in silence, and Sam opened the fridge and started getting cans out, and passing them over to the team captain standing behind him. Once he thought they had enough, Sam closed the fridge’s door and turned around to find Aedion staring at him. 

“Did I miss anything? Do you want more cream soda?” 

“Em, no, it’s okay. Just wondering if you’re okay. I know it’s none of my concern, but you seem a bit… off tonight.” Aedion was shifting his weight from one foot to the other, his arms full of rattling cans of soda.

Sam wished he could tell him the truth, but that was impossible. “I’m alright,” he said instead.

“You know, you can-” Whatever Aedion was about to say got interrupted as Ren Allsbrook walked into the kitchen from the front, as if entering his own house. There was a huge smile on his face as he greeted them.

“Hey, lads! Oh, cream soda!” The principal’s son grabbed a can out of Aedion’s arms and cracked it open as the rest of the team filled in through the hallway.

“What are you all doing here?” The captain asked while all the cans disappeared from his arms one by one. 

“We knew you’d be here, and enough party organizing, it’s actual party time!” Ren patted Aedion on the back and headed towards the half-empty box with cold pizza sitting next to the fridge. 

He jumped up and sat on the counter, a slice of pizza in one hand, and the soda in the other.

“Hi Sam, when are you officially joining the team?” Ress Brulleman bumped his fist and took a seat next to Ren.

“I’m not really into playing sports,” he lied. “I’d rather watch them.”

“Cheeky bugger, he likes watching the cheerleaders from the sidelines, right?” Ben hooked an arm over Sam’s shoulders casually, as if they’d been friends for their whole lives. “I’d do the same if I didn’t have to play.”

“Watch your mouth, one of those girls is mine,” Aedion said in a playful tone.

“And Sammy here is really good friends with her, isn’t he?” Ben winked, and Aedion rolled his eyes, but crossed his arms over his chest and faked a stern look.

“You know, we’re just that, really good friends,” Sam lifted his hands, hoping someone would finally understand he had no romantic interest in Lysandra. 

Before Aedion could reply, the girl herself walked into the kitchen, her hands on her hips as she took over the scene. Ress and Ren were seated on the counter side by side, chewing on their slices of cold pizza. Ben still had an arm around Sam’s shoulders, standing by the fridge. And Aedion was standing by the kitchen isle, his arms folded, while Ilias was silently standing to one side, a half-smile on his lips.

“I don’t recall inviting you guys to my place,” Lys said with her brows furrowed. “But, welcome!” She added with a huge smile as she relaxed and went over to hug each of them individually. 

“Should I order more pizza?” She asked as she finished her round and went to stand next to her boyfriend, an arm wrapped around his waist and her head resting on his shoulder.

Sam watched the smile that spread on Aedion’s lips, the way his eyes traveled down to Lysandra’s hair as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. He raised an arm to play with one of her long brown curls as the rest of the team cheered and thanked her for the food and hospitality. 

“Okay, let me go make the call.” Aedion squeezed Lys’ waist before he let go and she walked out of the room.

“Fuck, you did win the lottery with that one,” Ren said with a mouthful as they all watched her walk away. 

“I did.” Aedion’s reply stung in Sam’s chest, and he shook his head, walking out of the kitchen as he excused himself.

He heard the boys starting to chatter loudly again as he opened the glass doors and slipped onto the backyard. He sat back down on his previous spot, joining the cheerleader’s conversation as if he’d never left.

“Definitely Ress!” Briar was saying. She blushed a little as Sam joined them, but kept going. “I mean, he’s got that beautiful ash-blond hair that always looks a little messy, and he just seems so cute! I think he’s the kind of guy that’d pamper the shit out of his partner.”

“No, no, no way,” Ansel was saying. “He seems too innocent, and also, he’s into dudes! I think Ilias would be a better partner in crime, the quiet ones always hide something interesting under their sleeves.”

“I agree,” Thea said as she laughed a little. “You know, if I liked boys, I think he’d be more like my type. The dark hair, and those compelling green eyes.”

“Thea!” Kaya said as she ruffled her hair. 

“What? You like both boys and girls, you tell me what you think then! The fact that I don’t like boys doesn’t mean I can’t comment, right Sam?”

Sam cleared his throat and ran a hand through his messy hair, looking through the kitchen doors and watching the boys still eating cold pizza and being silly. “I don’t know,” he said.

“Come on, we’ll make it easier,” Ansel quipped. “Best eyes out of those guys in there.”

“Ilias,” Thea and Ansel said at the same time.

“Aedion,” Kaya giggled.

“I’ll stick with Ress,” Briar said, shrugging.

“What? He’s got boring brown eyes!” Ansel complained.

“Not true! Anyways, Sam?”

“Okay, I think... I’ll vote for Aedion’s too,” Sam said, laughing a little at the silly game.

“Yes!” Kaya jumped up, making Thea jump to a sitting position too as her head bounced on Kaya’s lap.

“Next,” Ansel said, lifting a hand. “Best body?”

All the girls seemed to think it over for a moment, looking through the glass to inspect the team.

“Ren,” Ansel concluded.

“Ditto,” Kaya agreed.

“I’ll go with Ben,” Thea said, getting booed for it. “What? He’s a bit shorter and skinny, he’ll be a better match for me, I’d look like a gnome next to any of the others!” Everybody laughed at this, and Sam leaned back on his elbows.

“I’ll vote for Aedion,” Briar said, blushing all over again.

“What are you voting my boyfriend for?” Lys approached the group and sat next to Sam.

“They’re voting for the best body in the team,” he explained.

“Oh, I’ll definitely go with Aedion too! You should see him without his clothes on,” Lys wiggled her eyebrows, her lips tugging up in that huge smile that could light up a whole room as everybody laughed out loud.

“What about you, Sam?” Ansel pushed.

“Are you playing too?” Lys turned to him with an eyebrow raised, and Sam’s cheeks heated up.

“They made me,” he said innocently.

“You know,” Lysandra scooted closer to him and lowered her voice. “You can vote for him too, I wouldn’t mind.” Sam watched Lysandra with his eyes wide open, and she cracked up laughing. “Time for a new game, girls, the boys are about to join!” Lysandra said once the laughter eased.

As if on cue, the boys walked into the yard, Ren holding a pile of pizza boxes in his hands, while Ilias carried a keg of beer over his shoulder as if it was a stereo. Ben popped a little speaker on the grass inside the circle of assembled girls, and the music started playing as the boys sat on the grass. Cups started to circulate, the chatter got louder and seconds seemed to blur into minutes, and hours.

The girls danced a little choreography as the boys sang and clapped, the team started playing drinking games, making bets, and suddenly, somehow, Ren was jumping into the pool in his underwear and calling everybody a chicken for not following. Ben was the first to follow him in, his back muscles flexing as he jumped headfirst, his little black boxers snuggly fit around his thighs. Ress cannonballed while he laughed, splashing everybody and making the girls all stand up as they squealed. 

The three boys jumped out, soaking wet and dripping water, and ran after the girls, lifting them in the air and dropping them into the pool with their clothes still on. Thea and Kaya went in first, almost at the same time, and came out screaming and complaining about how cold the water was.

“Don’t you dare!” Ansel yelled as Ren ran after her. As she ran, she took her top over her head, threw it to a side, and ran straight to the pool, jumping head first. “I rather do things my way,” she said as her head poked back out of the water, and she showed Ren the middle finger. Her lace bra was as red as her hair, and her freckles looked like stars fallen from the skies. 

Seconds later, Aedion was cradling Lysandra in his arms as he walked towards the pool. Lys was pouting her lips, looking like a little child, but she didn’t complain as Aedion jumped in and she wrapped her arms around his neck. 

“Ilias, Sam, come one! Jump in!” Ben yelled from inside the pool. 

Ilias was standing as far away as possible, leaning against the wall of the house. “I’m good, thanks,” he said solemnly, and Ben shrugged.

“Sam?”

“I rather not,” Sam grabbed his phone out of his pocket and checked for any messages. Even if Celaena was scheduled for the last fight, she should have finished by now, and still, she hadn't texted him. Maybe he should go over to the hotel, check if she was back, see how the fight had gone.

“Come on,” Lysandra said, showing up by his side and grabbing the phone off his hand. She set the phone on the grass with the rest of their things and pushed him gently with a hand against his lower back. Suddenly, she smiled a mischievous smile as she yelped: “Now!” 

She shoved him forward, and Aedion tackled him by his middle, scooped him up onto his shoulder, and ran the few feet separating them from the pool. The water hit him hard, waking up all of his senses. The water was freezing cold, and his shirt got stuck to his skin as he jumped out for air. Everybody around him was laughing, and a few of them were clapping. 

“Great tackle, captain!” Ren high fived Aedion.

Lysandra jumped back in, and swam to their side, wrapping an arm around Aedion’s shoulders and letting her body float, her foot intently brushing the side of Sam’s arm.

“Stay,” Lys mouthed to him as if she could read his mind; as if she knew he was planning on leaving only a minute ago. 

So Sam took his soaking wet shirt over his head, threw it on the grass, and stayed. 

[themagiciian]

Somebody That I Used To Know

Rating: General; trigger warnings for mentioned death and very mild violence Chapters: One-shot Word count: 3,079 Relationship: Diego Brando/Johnny Joestar Other characters: Nicholas Joestar (mentioned), George Joestar (mentioned)

Summary: It’s the anniversary of Nicholas’s death, and Johnny decides to visit the lake where Nick used to take him. However, he somehow crosses something- or rather, someone, a little... unlikely.

Author’s Notes:

Thank you ever so much for the request, @bluedrawin​! I apologise, this one is kind of a mess, but I’m really clawing at my writing muse to do something and... Well, I finished this, and I’ll leave it at that. It’s all over the shot, if I’m being honest. I didn’t proofread anything. I just finished it and, kind of, “well, I finished something, so who cares?”.

So in short? It’s rushed, it’s not very good... But I like mermaids a lot! Diego is the mermaid in this one. I wouldn’t usually change pronouns for AUs and stuff, but Diego is referred to as ‘they/them’ in this. At first it was accidental, but then it stuck, so I ran with it.

I may or may not add more to this. But for now, I hope this is good enough? I left it open ended so I could tack other things onto... this... XD Thanks again for the request!

It had been five years since Nicholas had died, and Johnny felt a bitter sadness bubble in his chest knowing that he’d soon be the same age his elder brother would be when he passed. He huffed, gently patting at Slow Dancer’s neck as she settled beside him from where he sat besides the bank of the lake. He chose not to tell his father where he was going, which he knew would earn him an argument the second he arrived home, but right then he didn’t care. The mare snorted softly beside him, ears flicking back briefly, and Johnny withdrew his hand to lay down and bask in the sun.

Even if it had happened five years ago, he recalled the events so vividly in his head. They replayed like a broken record, and he closed his eyes with a harsh sigh. Nicholas wouldn’t want him to dwell on it, but his own father's disdain towards him served as a constant reminder that he would simply never be Nick. And whilst his father chose to shut himself off from the rest of the world, and his only other son, Johnny decided he wouldn’t do the same. 

Not this time. 

The lake was sacred to Nicholas. He always cherished how secluded it was, surrounded by thick forestry and brush, the sun peaking through the leaves and lightly warming the grass below. A small stream ran right into the lake, which acted as white noise as Johnny relaxed. It had been a struggle, getting over Nicholas’s death, and the date still haunted him. It didn’t even feel like he was truly ‘over it’. More like he was just getting used to the dull ache that grief left him with, a void that would never be filled. 

A soft sigh escaped his lungs, eyes sliding closed as he bathed under the sun that filtered through the leaves. He always found himself wondering… why Nicholas enjoyed this place so much. It was pretty, sure. But not very interesting, or at least, Johnny didn’t think so. Nick had taken him there a handful of times, but they’d always end up heading back early because Johnny would quickly grow bored of just sitting around. Now he was older, he could understand a little better; he could see the beauty in nature, how nice it was to just lay down and forget about the rest of the world.

Johnny never really got it. He was kind to all the stable boys, he had a lot of friends at school, the maids liked him, but he always chose to… Come here. To be alone. Because, in Johnny’s experience, that was one of the worst things that could happen to him. To be left all alone. He couldn’t imagine why someone like Nick would want to escape what he had. Johnny didn’t really get along with anyone at school, in fact he’d go out of his way to avoid people, which only got worse after his elder brother’s passing.

His brow twitched a little, trying to push those thoughts to the back of his mind. He could feel his eyes sting under their lids as they watered, but he couldn’t bring himself to cry. Or, rather, he wouldn’t let himself cry. Nick wouldn’t want him to cry. And it wasn’t like anyone was there to comfort him, if he did. He focused on breathing, softly, his chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm. 

He would have fallen asleep if he hadn’t heard Slow Dancer snort lightly beside him. His hand idly reached out to pet at her flank where she lay next to him, careful not to startle her. He didn’t open his eyes until he heard someone… Laughing? It was more like a strange trill. When she snorted again, making a noise that sounded annoyed, his eyes opened lazily. He assumed it was just a bug or something pestering her.

He wasn’t expecting to find a pair of eyes meeting his own. 

Johnny jolted upright, which was enough to scare them back into the water. They moved so fast that he almost thought he was imagining it, a blur of gold and blue flashed before him. Slow Dancer’s ears were pinned back, now, in obvious annoyance, beginning to rise to her feet to step away from the lake’s edge. He was about to dismiss it as his mind playing tricks on him, or the mare just being irritable about something (as usual). But he couldn’t stop himself from edging closer to the water, as if his body was running on autopilot.

He peered over the edge, the mud forming a slight overhang, hands braced either side of him as he awkwardly crawled forward. He stared down into the water, only to find his reflection. But the surface wobbled lightly like something had disturbed it’s calmness. His ginger hair fell into his face when he stared down, squinting as if that would help him see further into the murky darkness of the lake.

He dismissed it as nothing after his brief investigation. But when an icy cold hand darted out and grappled his wrist, he couldn’t help but let out a shriek. A long string of curses that would surely get him a lashing if his father ever heard them escaped him as he fought, finally managing to yank himself back from where it had tried to get him under the water. He let out a few gasps for air as he shimmied away from the water’s edge, but whatever he had pissed off quickly clambered onto land right after him.

That’s when he finally got a good look at them. A mop of golden hair, with the most piercing blue eyes he’d ever seen staring right into his soul. Their facial features were all sharp, pointed, with deep blue spots dotting up and down their neck and ears fanning out. It took him another second to realise what he was staring at was inhuman, but another howl wrenched from his throat as their hand grabbed for his ankle now, trying to crawl away from their grasp. They let go after a brief struggle, letting Johnny shift himself back onto land, panting from exertion.

“W- What the hell? What the hell?!” Was all he could manage when he was freed, panic gripping his chest. They stared at him, wide-eyed, but didn’t move. That only struck a chord of annoyance in him. “H-Hey, aren’t you gonna answer me?!” He growled out, voice cracking a little. 

Their expression was unreadable, and Johnny didn’t know how long they just stared one another down. It was tempting to throw something at them, to force them to do something, but he grit his teeth and held his gaze. After a while, they blinked, before shaking their head. They made a sound of annoyance, pushing themselves back towards the water.

“I thought you were someone else.” Their voice was hard to describe, but somehow their accent shone through as distinctly English. But it was as if they were struggling to speak, almost. Johnny’s eyes squinted into a questioning glare, which was quickly returned. They made a move as if they were going to dive back under the water, but they seemed to hesitate. There was another stare-down, this time Johnny was trying to figure out what exactly he was looking at, but the other growled which made him jump a little.

“Did anyone teach you any manners? It’s rude to stare.”

Johnny let out a noise of exasperation. “You just- just grabbed me!”

“I thought you were someone else.” They snarled, now, sharp claws digging into the bank they were propped up on. Johnny braced himself to reach for his knife just in case they made any sudden movements. “You smelt like him, I saw your horse, and I got ahead of myself.”

Their fanned out ears- now Johnny was realising they were probably fins, or something- lowered slightly. Before he could speak up again, they were army crawling onto land, to which Johnny quickly grabbed his knife to point at them in threat. 

“What are you doing?!” He questioned, but only received a rumbled snarl back. He found himself distracted by their lack of legs, replaced by one long muscular tail that was so long that the end didn’t even poke out of the water. Before he could find himself too enraptured by this creature, they grabbed for his bag, sniffing at it, and Johnny waved his knife again. “H-Hey, you can’t just dig through my stuff--”

“You don’t have any food...” They muttered out, tossing it towards him. Johnny was dumbfounded by that, mouth hung open like a fish, before they were attempting to turn to slide back into the water. “I can’t believe I mistook you for him. Nick was never so impolite.”

“Nick?! Hey- Hey!” Johnny couldn’t stop himself from lunging himself forward, earning a loud hiss from them. But the mention of his brother’s name caused a surge of something inside him- anger, confidence, he didn’t know what, but the other was simply too fast. Just like that, they’d disappeared under the water’s surface, the bright blues and golds lost to the murkiness again.

This time, he growled in frustration. He moved towards the bank, grass and mud staining his jodhpurs, but he paid no mind to it as he reached into the water after them, like he could pull them out like a catfish. He felt nothing, however, just water rolled through his fingers as he waved his hand about under the surface. 

That same trilling noise from earlier echoed through the empty air, his head snapping up towards it. The bastard’s head bobbed up out of the water nearer the middle of the lake, and whatever they were, they were certainly laughing, a lop-sided grin on their face. It was creepy, the way they smirked, all fangs and jagged teeth. But that only seemed to further rub salt in the wound that had been reopened that day.

“What the hell are you?” He yelled out at them, mostly in frustration. They dived down again, tail splashing out of the water as he presumed they were coming closer. He clenched his knife hard in his hands, darting his eyes over the surface of the lake to try and find them again. They resurfaced near him, shoulders out in the shallower depths, still grinning maniacally. How… How could something look so human, but so- so not human? How were they breathing beneath the water?

“You don’t know what a mermaid is?” They sounded mocking. Johnny pulled a somewhat confused look for a split second, which earned another weird laugh. “I shall take that as a no.”

“I never said- I never said I ain’t know what a mermaid is!”

“But you looked it. You do that face.” They mimicked him, exaggerating his confused expression, to which Johnny scoffed, which they also mimicked. “Humans make all sorts of funny faces and make funny sounds, too.”

“I don’t need this right now.” Johnny finally announced with another scoff. He clicked his tongue for Slow Dancer to come over, who was lightly chomping at the grass nearby, raising her head when she was called. If this thing wanted to make fun of him, well, he just wasn’t going to deal with it. He’d be the bigger man and just… Leave. As she slowly trotted over, he heard the water slosh a little, and they perched with their arms crossed onto the lip of the lake.

“What’s up with you?” Their brow raised, smirking still, hair stuck to their forehead. When Johnny didn’t answer and instead reached for his horse, they let out a long whine. “Hey, not yet! I was just messing with you. Hey! Come ooooon! Don’t leave me here! I was just starting to have fun!”

Johnny shot another glare their way, at this ‘mermaid’ thing, and their head tilted a little in response. Their eyes were so large, almost catlike in how their pupils dilated, it was… A bit entrancing. He let go of Slow Dancer, instead, rolling his eyes with a tut to himself. What was he going to do once he got home, anyway? Pretend his father wasn’t alone in his room wishing it was him that was dead, and not Nicholas? That caused a pang of pain to shoot through his chest. 

“How did… How did you know Nick?” He brought himself to ask. Based on their interactions so far, he didn’t know whether or not he’d receive a genuine answer. Their smile disappeared, though, head lowering somewhat into their arms. They eventually shrugged, though.

“Somebody that I used to know.”

“How?” A feeling of desperation bubbled in the pit of his stomach. “Tell me how.”

“...He came here a lot, and he was nice to me, and he gave me food. Then I never saw him again.” They didn’t seem sad, moreso confused. But the way their head lowered pitifully made sympathy stab in his chest. At least that answers some of my questions, he supposed, but certainly didn’t make him feel much better. “Are you his friend?”

“I’m… H- His brother.” He glanced down to avoid their unblinking stare. He let out a hard sigh, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. It felt almost wrong, to call himself his brother, guilt and shame ebbing away at him as feelings he hadn’t addressed since that day welled over inside of his chest. “N- Nick died, um, some… A while ago.” 

“Oh.”

“...Mmm.” 

It was a fight, to not start crying, hot tears brimming his eyes and sticking to his lashes. A cold hand reached out to touch his shoulder. He jolted at the sensation, eyes widening, glancing down at them, a few tears spilling out in surprise. The claws he’d seen earlier were gone, retracted into their skin, and despite grief coming to bite him like a snake in the grass, he found himself fascinated again. Their hand came to fully rest there, head tilting to gauge the reaction. 

“What’s your name?” They finally asked. Johnny reached up to wipe away the stray tears, forcing down his emotions all over again. It didn’t even occur to him that they hadn’t even properly introduced themselves to one another in his emotional rollercoaster. He shrugged their hand away before answering, however. 

“J… Johnny. Johnny Joestar.”

They nodded back. “My name is--” There was a weird noise that ruptured from the back of their throat, which Johnny thought sounded like a gurgled choking noise, only frowning in surprise at the sound. “But Nick used to call me ‘Diego’ though. Or ‘Dio’, for short. I don’t know where he got Diego from, but I like it.”

Johnny couldn’t help but give an awkward laugh. His brain hadn’t really come to terms with what was going on, but- but he couldn’t say he entirely disliked their weird company. And it was weird. Trust Nick to make friends with… a ‘mermaid’? He’d already forgotten what they said they were...

“So, since we’re friends now, I guess you won’t need this anymore.” Diego broke the silence by grabbing for the knife that had been discarded in the grass. Before he could make an argument, the knife had already been launched far into the lake, a gentle ‘plop’ following it. 

Johnny quickly found himself in a state of dumbfoundedness again, glancing between the water and Diego. “W- W-- That was-- my knife! I need that!”

“For what, threatening to stab me again?” They purred, and their lips curled up playfully. Johnny felt a blush of embarrassment cloud his face. “I can get it back for you if you promise one thing.”

“I don’t think you’re in any position t’ be makin’ demands, but--”

“Come back tomorrow. Same time. But bring food. I’m hungry as all hell.” Diego spoke, as if they owned the world. Though Johnny wrinkled his nose, he could really only wish he had that kind of confidence. They took hold of his hand, as if to emphasise the promise he hadn’t even agreed to yet. “You will do this for me. Because, well, we are friends, aren’t we?”

He hesitated, and he found himself subject to those entrancing eyes again. This time he couldn’t find it in him to look away. Maybe he would have said no if he could have. Like he would let this guy walk all over him- they didn’t even have any legs to do so! But Johnny meekly grunted in response, and clearly that was taken as a yes answer, even if he hadn’t opened his mouth.

They grinned all over again, throwing their arms around him with a noise that could only be described as a squeal, and Johnny was almost tackled to the floor with the force of it. He was stunned briefly, even as Diego moved away, tail curled up near them, flicking up and down in… Excitement? Were mermaids like dogs? He was still too taken aback to really give any verbal response. 

“I didn’t-- I didn’t even say yes--” He held a hand out to keep them at an arm’s distance away, all this sudden contact overwhelming him. But they were quick to shove his hand aside, moving far too close for comfort with those teeth he knew were in their mouth.

“Don’t keep me waiting.” Their voice lowered almost dangerously. He knew it was probably an empty threat, they definitely weren’t as agile on land, it seemed. But he only nodded back, out of fear or the need for company, he wasn’t entirely sure. Either way, they let out another purring sound. 

“Good.” They spoke, softly, and there was a moment where they were both still. There was still an aura of unease, and he could feel it. Certainly not as much as before, perhaps, but Johnny was taken entirely off-guard when they suddenly leaned in and left a gentle peck on his cheek. 

And- as it seemed, was tradition for them- they quickly disappeared all over again. Johnny stilled, letting out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, before his brain finally caught onto what happened. Just like before, he shouted after them, and there was that noisy trilling mocking laughter that was becoming less and less insufferable by the second.

How did Nick put up with this? He had no idea... But he supposed he was going to find out.

[mythopoeticreality]

The Road Goes Ever On- Chapter 2

Ayyy! New Chapter!^^ I have to admit, I got a bit excited and couldn’t really help myself. xD Ah well! Hope y’all enjoy, things are starting to get iiinteresting now... >D

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22900423/chapters/54832213

Chapter 2

The forest fell silent at the sound of their approach. From the haunting questions asked by the owls, to the all-too-human screams of yowling foxes, to the skittering of leaves throughout the undergrowth stirred up by wandering voles and mice, all turned to sudden stillness with the first edges of the low-pitched rumble that shook across the forest floor. It was instinct. By the time the braying of the Hunt’s horn echoed through the trees, by the time the wild whoops and laughter danced, darting over the night air, the forest itself might as well have been barren. Dead.

They were a shining company, a blaze even through the Silvery light of Telperion which fell like a mist across Valinor. A blur of light and motion and the thunder of horse's hooves. A sight that was never meant to be seen. 

On other worlds, where they were remembered -- even on this world, in the regions beyond the sea and Grinding Ice, where the Powers’ might were not so focused, were the protection the Elder King placed over the Children of this realm was as naught -- none would venture out on this night. Here there were signs written on the air itself, a singing silence, a taste of wild herbs and distant mountainsides stirring in the cold. A sense of Magic that was as much a warning as the ringing of the Hunt’s horns. This was a night for the Oromandi, for the Tavari and the Orrosi. A night for those born before the world and older than its oldest. A night for those who were not of the world, but laughed at it much, and saw it as for the most part a play and a game for their own amusement.

And out here, on this night, a family slept peacefully beneath the stars. 

“You were quite right, cousin, they are such beautiful things…”

Two figures stood at  the edge of the glade, broken off from the rest of the Hunt, men tall and lean, who moved with all of the causal grace of  forest cats. Their hair stirred about them, spinning drifting tendrils that encircled them and obscured their faces, as though a wind whispered through the trees, yet if a wind did blow past, it touched at nothing else.

“Indeed, is it any wonder they were brought here, far from all harm?”

A light chuckle escaped from one, leaning back against a nearby tree. “Oh, no, no! Why, I would do much the same thing were they in my charge…” He stood, creeping nearer a pair of the sleeping elves, a father, who’s son was curled up upon his chest. Kneeling down, he casually brushed aside a strand of hair falling in front of the boy’s face. Blank staring eyes fluttered suddenly back to life as the child lifted his head, blinking curiously at this new stranger. The man smiled down at the boy.

“It is a good thing then,” He said, turning to glance back over to his companion, “That we mean them no harm at all, isn’t it?” 

~*~

“How much of this forest do you know?” 

“Isn’t that something you should have considered before taking me on as guide?” 

“Yet you took up the task willingly.”

Fëanáro shook his head, rolling his eyes. “I know it well enough, having come here before.” 

“Is there a break in the undergrowth anywhere near by? An overgrown track perhaps? The ruins of an old road?”

There was a pause, as Fëanáro thought. A road? Out here? To be used by who? Yet, he did remember something… “This way.” he grunted, leading the stranger along 

For a long while they moved in silence, picking their way through tangling briers and ducking beneath low lying tree-limbs. It was Fëanáro who finally broke it:“Those hunters, they meant ill with their purpose.” It was a pointed statement, his voice hard as he spoke it. 

The Stranger turned a glance to Fëanáro, just long enough to meet his eyes, before simply drawing his attention back out amongst the trees that surrounded them, breathing out a soft snort. 

The muscles in Fëanáro’s jaw tensed, teeth sliding across themselves as he gritted them. His nails bit deep into his palms, but he chose to allow for that rather than for his words to bite at the Stranger -- for now, atleast. Instead, somehow managing to keep his tone even, he continued on, “You knew those hunters. They regarded you as a guest.”

The words, and wherever he meant to lead with them were answered only by further silence however. It was the crooked, crossing shapes made by the branches across the sky that the Stranger was more concerned with, tracing them with his eyes as though they were words on a page. Somewhere nearby, an owl’s call echoed. The Stranger’s gaze fell upon the creature as they passed, and he nodded to the beast almost as if in greeting!

If he was any frame of mind to notice, Fëanáro might have been unnerved by just how intent and aware the bird’s gaze was as it watched the two.

As it stood, he only fixed the man with a flat look. “And must I too begin hooting like some wild bird in order to receive acknowledgement? ”

The stranger sighed. He paused for a moment in the road, his eyes narrowing, his head canting to the side as he continued to stare at the crossing tree-limbs above. “You are wondering if you have any reason to trust me.” The man said it as though he were making some observation about the weather.

“And?” Fëanáro pressed.

The Stranger took a step back, letting his gaze fall from the forest canopy and settled his eyes  finally on Fëanáro, “I never said you did.”

He didn’t know which was worse, the words themselves, or that bloody matter-of-fact  calm  that he continued on speaking to him with! As though it mattered not one wit how it was  Fëanáro thought of him! Either way, he would have no more of it.“The only reason we now talk is because you made no mention of me to those friends of yours!” The elf snapped, “Because you held me at a disadvantage and chose for some reason to simply release me. You were the one to say you wanted a guide, and yet you do not seem to care if I believe you might somehow still turn around and prove yourself some spy or servant of Melkor’s?”

The stranger blinked. “Melkor?” 

Fëanáro opened his mouth to speak, only to shut it a moment later, falling silent. His lips pressed into a pale, hard line, a long sigh escaping him. After some moments he finally found his voice again.“Do not think to mock me, now.” 

“I am not.” 

The elf gave a sharp snort, “Come off it! How can you not know of the very source of all evil in the world?”

“I am from Elsewhere. That is why you are here as my guide.” The words were spoken so simply, and even as they were still being voiced the man was already starting off again, waving for Fëanáro to come along.

“‘Elsewhere’” The elf scoffed, “and where would ‘Elsewhere’ be? The shores of Cuiviénen? Beyond the very spheres of the Earth?”

And the stranger still said nothing, simply shutting his eyes and lifting his shoulders in another one of those bloody shrugs again!

“No….” Fëanáro murmured… “No, that could not possibly…”

“Do you really think your world could be all that there is?” The stranger asked.

But  Fëanáro did not answer. Whatever it was that he thought of the man, there was something to the way he’s asked the question, to the way he spoke of it, as if it  could be so simple, that seemed genuine.

And it was, the Noldorin Prince had to admit, intriguing. Worlds beyond his own to explore and discover? Vast places full of knowledge still outside his reach? Despite himself, he found he wanted to believe this stranger…

“If you are from this ‘Elsewhere,’ then tell me,” Fëanáro asked, “How did you find your way here?”

A spark of something familiar lit the Stranger’s eyes when Fëanáro asked. He recognized it, had felt that particular kind of pride that came whenever he was asked of his own projects.

“I built a Road,” The man replied. 

~*~

Horns, or the echoes of them. They called to Tyelcormo from the edges of his dreams. He turned in his sleep, twitching at the sound. "Not now...a few more moments..." came the words, soft and slurred.

The Horns sounded again.

He awoke on instinct as much as anything. When the horns sounded, you got up -- so it was, riding in Oromë’s company. So, slowly, the silver-haired elf stretched, a low groan escaping him and his eyes blinking blearily open as he pressed his hands over his face. Tyelcormo dug in his elbow beneath him, pushing himself upright. Memory -- where he was, that he was with his family, that he could actually sleep in for a time -- filtered back in slowly. The Horns must have been a dream...

Still half-asleep he blinked in Telperion’s light, his gaze absently scanning over the clearing.

And then he tuned to Curvo.

“Ilúvatar in--fucking shit!” He’d lept up half-way through the phrase and was already shaking his brother awake. “Curvo, Curvo!”

Still on the ground, Curufinwë swatted his brother back, in his sleep. “Continue Tyelco, and you will  loose your hands.'' His words were a near growl.

“It’s not my hands you should bloody well be worrying about, eejit!”  Another low curse escaped Tyelco, and he was on his feet once more, pacing now to the edge of the glade.

“What are you--” Curvo murmured, beginning to push himself upright. He froze. His eyes widened. The realization clubbed him over the head like a hammer in the forge. The weight that had been resting on his chest all night, the warm little bundle that had slept so peacefully curled up in his arms? Gone. 

A strangled sound came cracking out of Curvo’s throat.  “My son.”  He breathed, “My-- Tyelco!”

Tyelcormo snapped his head up from the earth he crouched over, gaze darting towards his brother, now on his feet as well and coming towards him fast.

“Where is my son?” The words were soft, as Curvo ground them out, yet there were swords that would seem dull in comparison.

“I don’t know.” Tyelcormo murmured, heaving himself back up off of the forest floor. He grabbed his brother by the shoulders, looking him in the eye “But we are going to find out.” And with those words he gestured out, along the ground, in the direction where the broken, disturbed undergrowth left a track.

Curufinwë said no more, only sliding the hunting knife on his belt free from it’s scabbard, before setting off.

[shamera]

I know it’s been awhile, but I’d like to offer a plot bunny for your thinking pleasure to the part of you that still loves FF13: Hope Estheim as Jojo Rabbit

I literally just watched the movie after I got this and the parallels are FANTASTIC I LOVE IT THANK YOU and there is at all times a large part of me that loves FFXIII and Hope is my number one baebhu. XD

Hope never considered himself the bravest child in his class, but he also never thought of himself a coward. Uninterested in what others deemed fascinating, maybe, smart enough to know when to run away, maybe... But when the noises started in his home and it was only him and his mom for the week since dad had to leave for a trip to Eden... 

Well. He first suspected ghosts. Then critters, maybe, although that was absurd in Felix Heights and he was outraged by his own theories because despite his mom’s interest in strangely grown foods, she was fastidious and he wasn’t raised to be an untidy child-- there was no way that any critters would survive in the steel walls of their home. Thus armed with a free afternoon, a flashlight, and a recording device in case they did have to call animal control because Hope wasn’t dumb enough to try and tackle this on his own when he knew next to nothing of what could be in his walls (if lucky, it was just incorrectly placed pipes), he made it a mission to investigate the noises around his home. 

What he didn’t expect, crouched down on all fours and frowning at lines near the wall like the scraping of furniture, was for the wall to open up and for a woman to dart out like lightning, fast and strong as she scooped him up in one fluid motion to bind his arms and cover his mouth before he could even think of shouting in alarm.

His little recorder fell to the ground with a clatter as his legs dangled.

“Fang!” A pitched, feminine voice protested as Hope tried to scream against the hand cupped firmly against his face. “Fang, stop!”

It wasn’t just one-- but two-- women who darted out from the darkness where the wall opened up, both dressed in strange clothing. He couldn’t see the one holding him tightly with one arm locked around his arms and torso and the other covering his mouth (and nose) smelling of dust and earth, but he could clearly see the other, who looked thin and young with wide green eyes and sallow skin as if she hadn’t seen the sun in weeks. 

“Don’t hurt him,” the girl said, arms up in a calming gesture, “let’s just let him go, okay?”

“Not now he’s seen us,” was the tone of an older woman behind him, the one holding him so tightly he could barely struggle enough to kick. The voice was strange, the accent was strange, and their very persons inspired a spike of fear in him that was more than the fact that they were strangers in his home, holding him hostage. “Shouldn’t have been rummaging around, this one. Everything would have been fine had you run along outside the house to play with your little friends.”

Hope could barely manage a choked off noise at a pitch he would have been embarrassed by any other day. They--!

“He’s just a kid,” the younger girl said mournfully. “He doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

“Yeah? Well, kids grow up and then suddenly they’re the enemy between one day and the next. They’re all like that here.”

“Not everyone.” The girl said quietly, and they must have shared a look that Hope wasn’t privy to before after a very tense minute where Hope was sure that he was going to be killed via having his neck snapped by the steel arms trapping him, he was finally set back on his feet again. 

Only to collapse as his nerves refused to cooperate with him. 

The girl who spoke up for him knelt on the ground before him, smiling tentatively as Hope shook and tried to push himself away from her, only to hit the unforgiving wall. 

“Hey there,” she said gently, as if speaking to a scared animal, “you’re Hope, right? I’m Vanille. You don’t have to be scared.”

Enemy, the woman (Fang) said. 

“You’re from Pulse,” he blurted out, brain misfiring in his shock and fear. He could see the girl before him flinch slightly, but barely registered it as his mind raced with panic because how how how the war was supposed to be so far away! The latest information said that they suspected there were spies in Bodhum, but even that was distant to him and how could anyone have reached Palumpolum? 

Pulse was hell, the textbooks wrote. Filled with monsters and death, and the people who resided there beastly and gruesome in order to survive the world below them. Those from Pulse were raging war on Cocoon because they wanted the floating planet for themselves, because Cocoon was peace and oasis and protection, and they didn’t care that there were already people who lived there who wouldn’t be able to survive the brutal fires of Pulse. 

“Yeah, and what of it?” The voice above him challenged, and Hope jerked his head up to look at the woman looming over him, a deep frown above crossed arms. “You got a problem with that, kid?”

If he had proper survival instincts, Hope would have shook his head and gotten the hell out of dodge, but somehow a few wires must have gotten crossed because instead he snapped back from where he was still shaking on the ground, “You’re not allowed to be here! The Sanctum will find you!”

Because even if his dad wasn’t a Sanctum soldier, Bartholomew Estheim worked (peripherally) for the Sanctum, and he’s bound to find out about this situation, and Hope was really regretting the fact that he didn’t carry his boomerang on his person at all times because he was at home and his mom had laughed at him and pinched his cheeks when he mentioned how he should have a weapon at all times because of the war with Pulse-- she sunk her knuckles into his hair at the insinuation that she couldn’t protect her own son until Hope yelped and relented to only keep his pouch on him when he left the house. 

“Yeah?” In one quick movement that had Hope scrambling back until his knees were pulled to his chest in a futile effort to avoid the older woman because enemy enemy and threat as she grinned full of teeth, “guess what, then?”

“We’re allowed,” the younger-- Vanille-- interrupted, drawing Hope’s attention up to her even as he darted his eyes to her (too close!) companion, his heart racing a mile a minute. Vanille looked less threatening, and she was smiling apologetically at him. “Your mom let us in. So we’re not intruders.”

(”And why, pray tell,” Nora Estheim said with one arm over Hope’s shoulders as she tugged on his ear playfully and he made disgruntled noises and tried to lean away from her, “would you need a weapon at home? You know how I feel about this whole war, Hope. I don’t want any reminders at the dinner table, you hear me? None of your toys!”)

“And besides,” Vanille continued, leaning down slightly so that Hope was crowded by the both of them with no way to escape. She sounded a little regretful, adding before Hope could process the idea that his mom knew about this, knew that there were enemies hiding in the house and specifically told him not to carry anything that might help him fight back-- Vanille was pointing to her companion’s shoulder, and Hope followed her finger to see a seared white mess of lines on tanned skin. “We’re marked, you know.”

l’Cie. Whatever panic was running through his veins earlier was nothing to the blind terror behind his eyes now.

“You can’t tell on us,” the younger girl told him, and suddenly she was even scarier than Fang’s sharp smile. “If you do, then your Sanctum won’t just take us away, they’ll purge your whole family, too. Maybe your whole city. And that’s all your friends, isn’t it?”

Pulse, Hope thought through the thick haze of frenzied thoughts, was hell. Pulse l’Cie were even worse. 

Vanille was crouched in front of him now, looking demure and guileless as she rested her chin in her hands and attempted a strained smile. 

“So I’m afraid you’re gunna have to help hide us now too, Mr. Hope Estheim!”

[ladykateofledfordpark]

The Pink Shirt (Logan x MC)

This fic was written for day 5 of the Choices July Challenge hosted by the amazing @kinda-iconic under the profile @choicesjulychallenge and for RoDAW!

I want to dedicate this fic to the one and only @itsbrindleybinch! Without her I would probably still be stuck on an idea for a fic. XD

Of course, I'm also dedicating this to Mar (@brightpinkpeppercorn) and @choicesarehard, some of the founders of this beautiful week! ❤

Tagging also my beautiful and supportive friends @jlpplays1 @desiree-0816 @choices-fam, @lady-kato and a few others- @universallypizzataco @lilyofchoices @x-kyne-x @princessstellaris, @sibella-plays-choices! Thank you for everything! =)

This fic is fairly lighthearted cause I wanted to write some lighthearted fic amongst all this angst! XD

Day 5 Prompt: Mistake

Pairing: Logan x MC (Ellie)

Summary: There is a slight mishap in the laundry.

Warnings: PG-13 for slight slight innuendos

----------

The sun's rays slanted through the window's shutters, landing right above Ellie's face. She twisted, murmuring something to herself, when she heard slight cursing.

She opened her eyes and glanced at Logan. He was shirtless, his hand tirelessly running through his beautiful messy hair. He was so deep in thought that he didn't notice he woke her up, but Ellie didn't complain. She enjoyed these few moments when she could just gaze at him in adoration.

"Is something wrong?" She asked at last.

Logan glanced at her, his dark eyes suddenly full of worry. "Did I wake you up?"

Ellie smiled. "It's fine," she stretched, and laughed when she saw the slight smile on Logan's lips. "What?"

"You're cute, you know that?"

Her cheeks reddened, and she fidgeted with the shutters. How did Logan always get her so flustered?

She heard the scratching of wood before a familiar warmth coursed through her. Logan sat beside her on a wooden chair as he held her hand. The way he looked at her made her cheeks darken even further. "I like teasing you."

He brushed his thumb on her hand, and her pulse automatically quickened. Somehow, even after living with the MPC for a few weeks, Ellie still found herself acting sometimes like a young flustered girl.

She hated it, but she loved how Logan beamed after these moments. Only then he had that special smile: kind, affectionate and happy.

She shot him a smile, before asking again. "What's wrong? You seem worried."

Logan sighed. He got up and walked toward the table, picking up a slightly pink fabric. When he unfolded it, Ellie's eyes widened. "Your shirt."

"I know."

Ellie met his eyes, and suddenly she couldn't hold back her laughter. "Oh my gosh. I can't believe it. What happened?"

Logan put down the shirt, gazing absentmindedly at the wall. "One day I don't do my laundry. One day. And this happens."

"Don't you have other shirts?"

"I had one other, and it was also inside the same machine."

Another fit of giggles escaped her, and Ellie tried her best to keep it down. By the way Logan looked at her, though, it was pretty obvious how successful her attempt was.

She couldn't help it, though. Logan's reaction to this was priceless.

"It's really not that bad, Logan. A lot of guys wear pink shirts. You won't be the only one."

He didn't meet her gaze. "I can't. I need to keep this threatening persona, Ellie. No gangster would be afraid of someone with a pink shirt."

Ellie bit her lip, laughter still mercilessly attacking her. "I don't know. I think pink will suit you."

He let out a heavy breath, though there was a slight hint of a smile on his face. "Ellie…"

"Try it on."

Logan sent her a steely glare. "No."

She batted her eyes. "For me?"

"Fine," Logan answered reluctantly.

With wide strides he crossed the room, took the shirt on the desk and put it on. Ellie scanned him, her smile growing, before giving an affirming nod. "You look even better like this."

Logan rolled his eyes before he took off his shirt. Ellie sighed in disappointment, but Logan shook his head. "No."

"But-" her eyes fell once again on the shirt, and she pouted.

"No, Ellie. Now come on."

They left their room, back out to the garage. The other MPC members were all awake by now, each one of them focused on their very own project. Logan headed to Toby, his steps long and confident, when Mona thrust out an arm to block his way. Her gaze flitted from Logan to Ellie, her brow raising in question.

"It's not the time." Logan murmured.

Ximena crossed her arms. "Leave them alone, Mona."

Mona shrugged. She turned her back to the rest of them before heading to the kitchen, the click of her footsteps on the stone floor the only sound she made.

Ellie was surprised when she felt a familiar weight sitting on her. She turned in that direction, and was surprised to see Colt watching her silently. Something about his gaze was so different than the way he usually looked at her, that she couldn't even tell if it was real.

And then it was gone, and Colt turned back to his own tinkering.

Logan sighed and walked till he was right next to Toby. "Hey, can I help you with anything?"

Toby turned toward Logan, and a wide smile immediately emerged. He played with his glasses, enthusiasm shooting from his eyes like lasers. "Of course!" He started to point out different parts that needed working, when he suddenly stopped, frowning. "Why are you shirtless, Logan? I did the laundry yesterday!"

Logan sighed. "It was you?"

Toby nodded. "You guys always do mine, so I decided to learn. Colt helped me."

Colt smirked, his hands still busy with his work. "It was my pleasure."

Logan narrowed his eyes. "You-"

Ximena hurried toward Logan and held him in the strongest grip she could muster. "Calm down, you two. Stop acting like hunters fighting over prey. You're taking this too far."

Toby frowned, glancing between the sheathing Logan and Colt, before meeting Ellie's gaze. "Do you know what's going on?"

She bit her lip. "Well…"

Ellie winced as the voices of the two boys grew louder. By now Ximena was nearly digging her fingers in Logan's shoulder, all in a desperate attempt to stop the fight threatening to break out. "Logan, relax. It's just a pink shirt."

He glared at her. "That's not what this is about. This guy-"

"That is enough."

The room quieted, and they all turned toward Kaneko's cold stare. His voice was the perfect type of dangerous: cold and calculating, with a hint of danger Ellie never wanted to know.

Once. Before she joined this life.

"Logan, go put on a shirt. It's not the right time to impress the girl. As for you," he turned back to his own son, "no stunts, understood?"

Colt clenched his jaw. "Of course."

"Good."

Logan and Colt exchanged venomous looks before Logan hurried off. Ellie sighed as she started after her almost-boyfriend, wondering if the girls of the MPC will always have to babysit the boys.

"Seriously, it's just a pink shirt."

[the-lupine-sojourner]

Love Conquers Amnesia [Amnesiac!Eijiro/Takara(OC)]

Hiya! I saw This video and couldn’t help thinking about KiriKara (my name for the ship. I can’t think of a better one, so if you can, leave it in a comment below!), and this is the result!  Anyway, in writing it and trying to think of a realistic way for Kiri to lose his memory, I kinda veered from the video when I meant to practically quote it, but I also like this version, so here we are! Also, if you want more domestic KiriKara, send an Ask or message me and I’ll totally write it (as long as it’s not smut. Sorry!)!!

Real quick before I begin, @dailyojiromashirao is pretty much on my permanent MHA writing taglist, cus they’re always so sweet and supportive! Love you! And maybe @elite-guard-hardygal would enjoy this, too?? IDK. Feel free to ignore, lovey! 

Now that that’s done, I will only this before we begin; I hope you all enjoy! 

God Bless and Good Day!

~The Lupine Sojourner

(P.S: This guy is my headcanon/faceclaim for Adult!Eijiro, btw. I haven’t seen Bleach, but I know he’s a character in that show. This is the face Kiri makes when he sees his waifu but doesn’t remember her yet. She startles him with her beauty! XD)

Statistically, it was probably more shocking that it took so long for this to happen, given our profession.

But, it was still very shocking to get a call in the middle of a daytime patrol. “Are you Mrs. Takara Kirishima?” The person on the other end asks. I gulp.

“Yes, this is she. Who’s calling?” I ask as politely as I can.

“The receptionist at Sanno Hospital. I’m calling to report your husband’s admittance.” Instantly, my heart plummets into my toes, and the temperature seems to drop below freezing.

“O-oh...I...Is he..?”

“He’s in surgery. We’re still unsure precisely what happened, but more details are emerging the longer we have him. The doctors are very hopeful, however.” I can’t help but not feel comforted by those words. Something could always happen. It only took one wrong move, one instant, for everything to change.

“O-okay. I’ll be there in around thirty minutes. Thank you.” I say, then hang up. I race back to my agency. The one Kiri and I shared, like everything else. I rip off my headgear and toss it into the locker along with my belt, all while calling out the situation, before sprinting for my- -our- -car. We were supposed to drive home together and have a family movie night with our five-year-old son, Senshi.

This wasn’t supposed to happen! Kiri had an amazingly defensive Quirk. How could someone have hospitalized him?!

=#=#=#=#=

“The story we’ve pieced together from the data we’ve collected is this;” the doctor explains when I arrive. “your husband was fighting an unknown villain, and somehow suffered trauma to the head, resulting in the loss of the fight, and…”

“What?” I press urgently. I needed to know!

“Well, with brain injuries...memories are the easiest to lose, we’ve found. It appears your body automatically purges memories first instead of the knowledge of how to breathe, for example. I’m sorry, Mrs. Kirishima, but there is a strong possibility that your husband won’t remember much when he wakes up.” I thank him for telling me absently, eyes peeking into the room, to Kiri laying still on the bed. “And we’re not sure when he’ll wake up. We hardly had to use anesthesia on him for the surgery; he was unconscious when he was admitted, but without any real indication that we could find as to why. I’m sorry.” I nod.

“Thanks for doing what you could, doc.” I murmur, walking slowly into the room. The man smiles sadly at me and leaves me to sit beside Kiri. His hair had to be combed down and messed around so they could run tests to see why he was still out cold, and the black hospital gown looked incredibly odd on him. His chest rose and fell rhythmically. It seemed to lull me into a doze, one I tried to fight without much luck.

=#=#=#=#=

It’s only a few hours later that I wake up, and Kiri still isn’t awake. I hold in a groan and stand, stretching out my back and arms that were sore from sleeping in the chair.

I wasn’t planning on leaving til Kiri woke up and I could ascertain for myself his condition, so I watch him. His chest goes up and down and the heart rate monitor beeps incessantly as time creeps by. It was unknown how long I sat there before I started to fall asleep again. I shook myself. I wouldn’t fall asleep again until I saw Kiri awake.

So I stood again, deciding to leave briefly to get a cup of coffee and call people. Mainly Ma, Pa (what I call Mr. and Mrs. Kirishima) and Katsuki. They deserved to know what had happened.

It went about as well as expected. They were upset (Katsuki vowing to roast Kiri for being so sloppy as to let that villain get a hit on him), but promised to get here soon.

I then got my coffee and headed back to Kiri’s room, only to find him standing and gazing at the sunrise out of his window, his IV pole clutched beside him. 

I gulp. Time to see what was what with him. I grin and walk over. “Beautiful, huh?” I ask, sipping the coffee. He flinches, jerking his head to look at me.

“Yea- -uh...did...did the doctors send you?” He asks, stunned, cheeks red. I blanch. Of course. Memory loss was a high probability, the doctor had said.

“N-no.” I murmur, gulping the coffee to avoid talking. How was I supposed to deal with this?! How long would this last?!

“Wow…” He breathes, taking me in and smiling. “You must be the prettiest woman in the whole world.” It’s almost like he wasn’t aware he was talking out loud. I blush. Even without memories of our marriage, he was attracted to me. 

“Thanks.” I reply, chuckling. It then drops. “...Do you know my name?” I ask tentatively. Eijiro frowns, scanning me again.

“...I’m sorry, but no...should I?” I sigh. Of course he wouldn’t remember...

“Takara.” I reply. “It’s Takara Kirishima.” There. I’d kinda told him. He’d have to piece it together now. His eyes narrow in thought, then go wide.

“Are you my sister?” He asks. I snort.

“No. No, I’m not.”

“Cousin?” I smile.

“Not a cousin, either.”

“...Then...what?” He asks shyly. I roll my eyes.

“I’m your wife, dummy.” I chuckle, ruffling his hair. He blinks several times, then grabs my left hand. I slip the glove I hadn’t taken off and he stares at the simple sterling silver band around my ring finger.

“...We’re married?” He exclaims, staring at my face now. I grin proudly and nod.

“Yeah. For almost six years now.”

“Whoa, really?! How do I not remember that?! Man, I hit the jackpot!” I chuckle, scratching the back of my head, cheeks scarlet. Wow...

“The doctors aren’t really sure. You were admitted to the ER unconscious and had to go into a brief surgery to try and determine what happened. They still don’t know, but my guess is a Quirk’s to blame.” Kiri nods.

“I have one, too, right? A Quirk?” I nod.

“Yup. You can harden your body using your body’s carbon. Downside is you can’t do it forever.” He frowns, then grins happily.

“I think...I think I remember that!” He cries. “I use it to fight, don’t I?”

“Yup. You’re a hero. You help a lot of people at our agency.”

“Our agency?” Eijiro asks, head tilted. I grin.

“Yeah!” Just then, I hear the door open behind us. I glance over and see Katsuki glaring from the doorway, only halfway out of his costume, as well.

“Hey! Shitty Hair! Remember me?!” Kiri turns.

“...You know me?” He asks. Katsuki does a double-take, then scoffs.

“Right. Forgot. You let a villain hit you with some dumb memory loss Quirk. Your wife called me. I was closer than your parents are, but they’ll be here.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Kiri murmurs, looking at Katsuki’s outfit. “...Are you a hero, too?” Katsuki flinches in irritation, then deflates.

“Yeah. So’s your wife, dumbass.”

“Katsuki, thanks for coming, but don’t be mean.” I warn. I knew, however, that this was just Katsuki being Katsuki. He didn’t really mean it.

“Ground Zero, right? That’s...that’s your hero name?” Kiri suddenly asks, eyes lighting happily. Katsuki smirks.

“Finally, you remember something!” I roll my eyes.

“He remembered his Quirk and that he was a hero before you got here.” I point out.

“I don’t remember my hero name, though. Or yours, Takara. Sorry.” I wave that aside.

“No worries! You wanted to model your hero image after Crimson Riot, so you chose Red Riot as your hero name as an homage.” Eijiro’s eyes light up.

“Oh, right! He’s so manly and hardcore! What’s yours?” I chuckle and rub the back of my neck awkwardly. It always sounded weird when I explained it out loud.

“Well, I’ve always liked foxes and wolves, so I chose Kitsune as my hero name.”

“That’s awesome!” I laugh.

“You had that reaction the day we chose our hero names, too.” I reminisce fondly.

“Yeah, back when you two made dopey heart-eyes at each other in class and we all pretended we didn’t see and wanna puke.” Katsuki adds, scoffing and crossing his arms. His smirk betrays his happiness, though.

“Really?” Eijiro asks, eyeing me.

“We-well, it was more like I made the heart-eyes and then, ah- -do you recall something called the USJ incident? It happened almost nine years ago…” Eijiro frowns.

“I...I think so. We were in some huge building, right? Combat training?” I shake my head.

“No.” I grimace. Even now, the memory was painful, my ribs recalling that day easily. “We were supposed to be doing rescue training.” I murmur. “Then villains attacked. My mom nearly died. She was our teacher.” Eijiro frowns.

“Oh. Right. I was the one who found you, right? Against a fountain with a nearly collapsed ribcage?” I nod.

“Yeah. That was a tough week.” He nods.

“Ah, you babies got over it.” Katsuki muses. “If you ask me, that’s when you two nerds started liking each other and making everyone around you nauseous with your mushy attitude.” Eijiro then blushes and tilts his head, scratching the back of his neck.

“Uh...Takara, I’ve been meaning to ask...do we have kids?” I smile, pulling my phone out. I pull up a picture of Senshi at his fifth birthday (just a few weeks ago), sharp teeth on display as he grins at the camera.

“Yeah; a son, Senshi.” My hand goes to my stomach subtly. I’d planned to tell him the revelation I’d had this morning, the one still waiting on our bathroom sink. But not now. I’d wait til he had more memories to tell him, though. Eijiro stares at the picture for a long minute or two, gently taking my phone.

“He’s just like me…” He murmurs. I nod.

“Yeah.” His black hair came from his father, but the large brown eyes were from my side. It was adorable, and an instant recipe for success on his end when he gave me the infamous ‘puppy eyes’. “He’s a good kid.”

“Yeah, that brat’s alright.” Katsuki admits, scoffing a little. Surprisingly, Katsuki handled Senshi well. He wasn’t usually too forceful and angry with the kid. He’d really come a long way since our high school days, when he’d terrified any child that dared look at him wrong.

“I can’t believe we’re married and have a kid..” Eijiro murmurs thickly, and I notice tears on his cheeks. “How could I have forgotten you? I’m sorry, Takara...I’m so sorry…” I hug him, tears forming in my eyes.

“Eiji, it’s okay.” I murmur, rubbing his back as he clutches me. “It’s not your fault.”

“If I’d just taken care of that villain, none of this would’ve happened.” Eijiro sobs. I blink.

“So...you remember?” I ask, drawing back just enough to look him in the eye.

“Bits and pieces. The more we talked, the more I remembered. The picture of Senshi was like the final key.” He says. “That guy’s Quirk wasn’t affected by my Hardening, and it only took a touch for it to work.” 

“Great, you remember, now stop dancing around each other and kiss already.” Katsuki grumbles before I can react. I laugh and hug Eijiro again. He’s blushing as we part a few moments later.

“...Can we?” He asks. “Can we kiss?” It was exactly what he’d said, the morning he’d confessed. We’d gone sunrise hiking and he’d asked that as we watched the dawn unfold. I smile and play with his hair, just like I had that morning.

“Of course you can.” I reply, continuing the reenactment, and he all but tackles me in elation, kissing me so eagerly, I’m pretty sure my lips are swollen and bruised.

“Oi! I know i told you to kiss, but come on! Knock it off!” Katsuki growls. I smile into the kiss and deepen it, knowing it would piss Katsuki off. Sure enough, he growls and is stalking over when Eiji pulls back to stick his tongue at Katsuki.

“Oh, lay off!” He replies. “You’re just jealous cus you’re still single.” Katsuki growls and grabs the front of Eiji’s hospital gown.

“What did you say?!” Katsuki growls.

“Oh, good; I see we were worried for nothing.” Comes the voice of my mother-in-law. I look behind Katsuki and wave.

“Hi, Ma!” I call. I generally call Mrs. Kirishima ‘Ma’ or ‘Mama’, and Mom...well, ‘mom’. “Turns out, Eiji got hit by a Quirk that knocks you out and gives you amnesia, but it’s nullified by showing the victim photos or talking about the missing memories, evidently. He remembers.” 

Ma nods. “Thank goodness.” Eijiro hugs his parents.

“Hey, guys.”

“Hello, Eijiro.” Ma replies. Pa smiles and ruffles his son’s hair.

“Gave us quite a scare there, son.” He says. “But, of course, you pulled through!” Eijiro nods.

“Cus Kirishima men always win!” He says proudly, fist-pumping his dad. I roll my eyes. That was part of the reason Kiri was so upset in Middle School; his father encouraged bravery and manliness in his son and when Eijiro failed to act in that attack, it whacked his self-esteem.

But, over time, he’d become every inch a brave, manly hero. And an even better man to be married to. I side-hug him and squeeze his side reassuringly. “And the Kirishima women will always support their man.” I add, chuckling as Ma nods.

“Agreed. Knew I liked you when I met you, Kara.” I grin.

This was what we’d always have; a family to fall back on, no matter how bad or weird things get. Family is priority. Always.

Crappy ending is crappy, but hope you liked the rest! XD

[sharkfish]

Soooo, let's say hypothetically if I've started dabbling in the Sterek fandom, could you recommend some of your favorite fics? You've got excellent taste!

here i go here i go here i go girls what’s my weakness STILES AND DEREK!  (*my brain just played me far more of that song than i thought i knew)

(i’m not really involved with the sterek fandom on tumblr so i don’t know most of these peep’s tumblr urls if they exist – plz tag in replies if you recognize anyone) 

like 98% of these are E rated >:)

everything is in alphabetical order EXCEPT!!!!!!! this is very possibly my favorite fic of all time and i’ve read it a thousand times and will keep rereading it until the day i die!!!! 

Love Runs Wild by DevilDoll (9.5k)

derek and stiles model for a softcore werewolf skin mag. basically, porn of stiles being all pretty and biteable and then a werewolf being all bitey, except of course derek and stiles shoot together A LOT, and when stiles shows up to a shoot with a hickey, derek LOSES HIS GODDAMN MIND (in the best way)

“You’ve got a hickey on the back of your neck!” A Neckz ‘n Throats story.

Alpha Complex by Hatteress (goddammitstacey) (3.4k)

oh, you’re interested in some subby bottom derek? let me tell you a little story….

“Hold still,” Stiles says, hand clamping down on the back of Derek’s neck to keep him from turning and it’s laughable, really – the thought that that would be enough to hold him. Except it is. Because Stiles’ fingers are gripping the nape of Derek’s neck, pressure sure and hard and Derek- Derek can’t fucking breathe.

Bravery is a Loaded Gun by LiviKate (17.3k)

this is a fic i go back to over and over when i just need to be punched in the heart. i’m a ho for stiles (stupidly!!!) thinking he’s somehow below derek’s level attraction-wise, and this has that in droves. it’s also about derek’s recovery from the sexual abuse he suffered with kate, in a way that i think is done with a (deservedly) delicate hand. (i’m holding myself in from going off on a [positive] tangent about the way fandom talks about derek’s abuse, but i have Thoughts.) 

“No, I’m not asexual, Stiles,” Derek said shortly.

The teen’s heart sank in his chest, his palms going clammy and his neck prickling with the familiar feeling of rejection.

“So then it’s,” Stiles swallowed, throat clogging, unable to give voice to the facts he would much rather ignore. The silence grew between them, growing tense the longer it was left. For the first time in years, Stiles couldn’t speak. The weight of inadequacy held down his typical stream of useless banter. What does one say in this sort of situation? ‘I’m sorry you don’t find me attractive?’

Cornerstone by Vendelin for foreverblue_navy (83k)

this was the first sterek fic i loved and therefore the gateway drug. it’s so lovely in so many ways, AND ALSO, any time someone is like “k i’m only saying this cuz i’m your bff, not bc i have any sort of romantic inclinations or anything crazy, but i’d make the sacrifice to practice kissing with you, just to help you out” 

Suffering from PTSD, ex-Marine Derek Hale moves back to Beacon Hills to open a bookshop and find a calmer life. That’s where he meets Stiles, completely by accident. Stiles is talkative, charming and curious. Somehow, despite the fact that he’s blind, he’s able to read Derek like no one else.

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart) by yodasyoyo (5.7k)

you know, i don’t read fics with kids (either them as kids or as parents) very often, but i’m kind of wondering why not, because i do love a good best friends from childhood to duh you morons lovers story. obviously this is a slightly different twist but the things i loved about it where the same sorts of feelings as that

Stiles is six years old when he first hears Derek’s voice in his head.

Or what happens if you have a soulmate bond, in a universe where soulmate bonds don’t exist?

Promise You’ll Look After Him by DiscontentedWinter (9.9k)

this is honestly one of the most powerful fics i’ve ever read. it’s the pov of stiles’s dad after stiles is sexually assaulted, so it fucking HURTS, but ultimately, it’s a story about profound love, both familial and romantic. (sorrynotsorry: sheriff stilinski is the father john winchester should’ve been.)

Sheriff Stilinski is used to dealing with victims of violent crime. He knows how to approach kids who’ve been beaten and sexually assaulted.

Except this time it’s his son.

It’s Stiles.

Sell Your Body to the Night by Dira Sudis (dsudis) (121k)

i can’t remember who on tumblr convinced me to read this? i remember someone telling me about it, and then emphasizing that the watersports tag is only for a single scene at the beginning of ch9 that is entirely skippable. i knew my stupid ass was going to read it anyway so mostly i was just afraid something was going to be awakened. IT WASN’T THANK GOD but this fic is so fucking incredible i don’t even care that derek paid like $5000 to pee on stiles. i can’t believe i just typed that sentence. THIS STORY HURTS A LOT!!!!!!! but then it feels better a lot

“No,” he repeated impatiently. “I’m not a cop. I’m someone who wants to exchange my money for your sexual services. I was told you were in that line of work.”

“I, uh, yeah, sorry,” Stiles said. He glanced around again and then up–the full moon was almost directly overhead. Just one of those nights, maybe. “Yeah, I am. I do that.”

Sour Kush by alisvolatpropiis (15k - series)

stonerstonerstonerstonerfic (there is a pt2, read it also)

Stiles mentally curses Erica, because in all of her warnings about how brusque this guy could be, she forgot mention that he’s also hotter than the fucking sun. If Stiles had any lingering questions about his sexuality, they’d be completely settled by what this guy is doing to him. In fact, he might not even be gay anymore. He might be in the midst of crossing into some yet-to-be-named sexuality that’s all about a scruffy black beard and alarming green eyes and muscles and tattoos and this guy’s everything ever.

The guy’s name is Derek, his lust-addled brain supplies distantly.

Well that settles it, then. Stiles is Dereksexual.

Sweeter Than Honey by the_painless_moustache (9.4k)

this is a fic that made me start thinking about what kind of non-sexual symptoms an omega might have during heat. stiles is a totally adorable disaster and derek is a totally adorable alpha trying to awkwardly court him. and none of their friends appreciate stiles like they should >:| 

Stiles is probably the worst omega ever, which drives every one of his friends insane. Except for, surprisingly, Derek.

That’s Why He Lets Him In by alisvolatpropiis (12k - series)

this series is…. holy fuck. this is a stiles that was raised by sam and dean winchester as a hunter (just referenced, they don’t appear on screen). derek is a werewolf stiles let get away, and now they hate-fuck, except not really, bc they are desperately in love. it’s a little darker in tone but the writing is just – fuckin whoa. 

Derek was about to rip Stiles’ throat out with his teeth and the crazy kid had just laughed, no trace of fear in his scent. He looked into Derek’s enraged eyes and smiled, welcoming his death.

That’s why he lets him in.

Trust Me by Areiton @areiton (4.8k)

in which a destiel & a sterek have a foursome. iirc, arei had written this (unbeknownst to be) like 2 days before i started obsessing about d2cs and wrote my fic mai tai. if i had known about this fic i probably wouldn’t have bothered writing my own xD 

“What the hell are they doing here,” Stiles snaps.

“Do you trust me,” Derek asks, squeezing his hand and the tension and anger drains out of Stiles as he licks his lips.

You Were a Kindness When I Was a Stranger by DevilDoll (8k)

there is a specific sentence in this FANTASTIC bdsm fic that makes me run in circles screaming every time i even THINK about it omfg 

“It’s not all handcuffs and spankings and learning to deep throat.” This is an AU with consensual BDSM sex acts, in which Derek supports Stiles financially in exchange for a sexual relationship. Stiles is of legal age.

Unsaid the Word by aerialiste @aerialiste  (20.7k)

this is some Good Clean Academic AU Fun. i’ve read it multiple times and it’s a delight over and over. 

Derek Hale, Stiles thought, indignant, was a goddamned scholiastic menace.

In which tenure-track Professor Derek Hale is polite and friendly to Stiles Stilinski, ABD, every year at the academic conference they both attend; and Stiles tries to be contented with pining after him—until after one night at a bar, far too many doubles, and some injudicious texting, thanks to his total inability to know when to stop talking, Stiles just may have ruined everything.

plzplzplzplz if you enjoy these fics, leave the author some comment & kudos love and share with your friends!!! 

[awhitehead17]

Hello! I love your fan fiction, you write really well! Sorry for my bad English, i'm italian...XD I would have a TimKon Prompt for you: AU - No capes; Conner has just moved to Gotham, at the same high school as Tim and at the beginning the two hate each other. But when he finds Tim hurt by a group of bullies in their class, Conner decides to help him defend himself. The Bat-family supports Tim, helping the kid to clarify his feelings for Conner. ♥

Hi and thank you so much! It’s always fantastic to hear that peopleenjoy my writing, it means so much to me.

Sorry it took me a little while to answer this, but the prompt’s awesomeand great timing too, because I’ve been wanting to write another high schoolstory for a little while now. This story took a turn all in it’s own but it wasfun to write, I hope you like it!

Of course the one guy who gets his attention turns out to bean asshole. He’s only been at the school for four days and he has alreadydeveloped a crush on someone and that someone happens to be the son of thefamous billionaire playboy Bruce Wayne.

Even though its only been four days Kon already knows thatTim is an asshole. He’s seen it by the way Tim acts in class and the way heacts during lunch breaks. The guy pushes everyone who tries to get close away,he’s stuck up and clearly thinks he’s better than everyone else just because hehas money. Kon’s fairly sure he hasn’t seen Tim interact with more than fiveother people in school in a way that wasn’t mean.

How Kon has fallen for him he has no idea, it probablydoesn’t help that Tim is hot. Piercing blue eyes, medium length black hair, alean figure (though Kon has seen him once at the school’s gym and knows thathe’s packing some serious muscle and strength even though it doesn’t show).Maybe it’s because Tim Drake-Wayne is appearing to be a mystery person that Konhasn’t come across before and its made him intrigued.

Damn him and his mysterious ways.

It was on his fifth day at his new school that somethingactually exciting happened. Well not exciting but something interesting. Halfway through the day he was in biology and asked to go to the toilet, thankfullythe teacher let him go and Kon headed out to look for the closet toilets. He wasstill new and was yet to remember the school’s layout.

He was walking down the empty hallway when a group of guysenter from the side. They were being loud and all of them were laughing. Konrecognises them all from the football team. While they all look like a good groupof guys, Kon’s heard rumours about them being bullies and general dick heads.He has yet to see them bully anyone, but the rumours are just enough to makehim want to stay away from them. He doesn’t like bullies.

As they cross the paths the one at the front spots him andpoints at him, “Kent, you better be trying out for the team next week. The wayyou played the other day was fantastic.” He praises Kon.

Kon appreciates praise but he gets he distracted by seeingblood on the hand that was pointed at him. “Yeah, maybe.” He says.

“You better.” The guy laughs and then he and his friendscontinue down the hallway.

Kon walks down the hallway and turns to the side, where thefootballers had just come from, and follows it through to the end where thetoilets were at. He gets to the door but pauses after seeing something smearedon it. He bends down and gets a closer look to find that it’s blood, and thatit was still wet.

Frowning he enters the toilets and finds a sight he neverexpected to see. Leaning over a sink was Tim Drake-Wayne. From where he stoodKon could see the blood dripping down the side of his head and down his neck. Whenhe looks in the mirror he sees Tim looking down and holding a hand to his nosewhile blood seeps through his fingers and into the white bowl below him.

Kon stands there for a minute before he realises that he’sstaring. Making himself move he goes over to the toilets and does his business.At the same time he feels something inside him pulling at the fact TimDrake-Wayne was bleeding in the school toilets and how he should somehow helphim.

As Conner was zipping up his jeans he made the connectionthat any idiot would be able to. Blood on footballer’s hand, blood on the doorand blood running down Tim’s face. Tim had gotten beaten up.

He takes it back, he’s now seen them bully someone, butwhether this was a one-time thing or a regular thing he’s not sure.

Kon leaves the toilet to find Tim still at the sink exceptthis time he’s continuously wiping his nose with a now red tissue. He walks upnext to him and starts to wash his hands, he glances at Tim through the mirror,“Why did they do it?”

“Why does it matter?” Came the sharp reply.

“Just curious.”

“Well take your curiosity elsewhere.”

“I was just asking okay. No need to be so hostile.”

Tim turns and glares at him, “AndI’m telling you to get out of my business, so fuck off.”

Kon turns the water off and faceshim, “Look there must have been a reason to why they punched you, I was justasking that’s all.”

“I get that you’re new here butlearn that people in this school are assholes and they don’t need a reason todo anything.”

“Like how you’re one?” Conner shoots at him. He watches withamusement as Tim blinks, taking in what he had said.

Tim moves away from the sink over to the toilets to grabmore tissue before coming back to the sink, “It doesn’t matter why they didit.” He says quietly, this time with no anger to his words, “Nothing will getthem to stop.”

“I could teach you how to fight, if you want.” The offercomes out of nowhere, so it shocks Kon just as much as it apparently shocksTim.

“I know self-defence.” Tim tells him sharply, like Connerhad insulted him.

“Okay, but do you know how to fight?”

“I have brothers.” Tim tells him.

Conner lets out a frustrated noise, he isn’t getting anywhere here. It’s clear that Tim isn’t interested so he decides to give up withhim. He tried, so no one can say that he didn’t do anything. Conner starts towalk towards the door, “Well if you change your mind let me know.”

With that Kon leaves Tim to his bloody tissues and exits thetoilets. He heads back to his class while repeating their conversation in hishead. Once he’s sat down again he shakes his thoughts away and tries to focuson what the teacher was babbling on about.

Tim hikes his bag up on his shoulder and exits the school.Another week over, another step closer to finally finishing this hell hole. Hesighs as he looks around for his eldest brother, this was something he wasn’tlooking forward too. His brother will see the bruises on his face, question it,then get protective and try to get him some help.

Too soon for his liking, there was a hand frantically wavingat him. Sighing, Tim makes his way over and sees his brother’s smile drop offhis face and as it’s replaced with a frown, “Timmy what happened?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

Tim doesn’t stop the hand that reaches out to him and gentlygrabs his face. He lets Dick do his examination before he slaps the hand away.“Can we go?”

Dick looks like he wants to ask more questions but wiselykeeps silent. Tim sees him look over his shoulder and then he cocks an eyebrow,“Who’s that?”

Tim turns to look in the direction Dick was looking at. Hesees the new kid, Conner he believes he’s called, standing by a truck lookingat them. Seeming to have realised that he’s gotten caught, he quickly advertshis eyes and climbs in the truck.

Tim turns back to face Dick, “He’s new.” Tim tells himreaching for the door handle of the car, “Just joined this week.”

“Oh yeah?” Dick says as he walks to the other side of thecar and climbs in, “He seemed to be checking you out.”

Tim snorts, “As if.”

Dick grins, “I dunno baby bird, it seemed pretty obvious.”

Tim decides to not say anything but that seems to encouragehis brother, “Oh! You like him!”

Tim snaps his head to look at him and glares, “No I don’t.”

“Yes you do!”

“No. I don’t.”

“Oh you do! Wait until Jay hears about this, he’s going tolove it.”

Tim gives up. If he opens his mouth again he’ll only beadding fuel to the fire.

Finally Dick starts up the car, “It’s okay to have a crushTim. There’s no need to be embarrassed about it.”

“When they see you beaten up and bleeding in the toilets,there’s plenty to be embarrassed about.” He snaps, glaring out of the window.

Dick seems to take this in consideration, “Okay, what didyou say to him?”

“I told him to stay out of my business.” Tim tells him, hethen quickly adds on, “And then he offered me to teach me how to fight and Ideclined.”

Dick face palms, “Why did you do that? That was a perfectopportunity to be with him and get to know him.”

“I panicked!”

“Have mine and Jason’s lessons been going over your head orsomething Tim? Just let him know that you’ve reconsidered and want to do it.Invite him over to the Manor, do whatever you’re going to do and then bam, it’sall sorted!”

Tim rubs a hand across his forehead, “No Dick, it’s notsorted. Things like that just don’t work out.”

“Why not? What have you got to lose?”

“He already thinks I’m an asshole.”

“So show him you’re not.”

Having had enough of the conversation Tim shakes his headand looks out the window. 

Later that night Tim brings up Conner’s Facebook account and starts tostalk through it. He wanted to see what the guy was like. From his Facebook Timgather’s that he seems to be pretty chill, often outside enjoying the sun orwalking his dog. He has lots of friends back in his home town, they had oftentagged him in lots of comical pictures of him.

Deciding, Tim sends him a friends request. He hasn’t got hisnumber to text him so this seemed to be the next best thing. He would speak tohim in school on Monday but that was two days away and he kind of wants to speakto him now.

His brothers had manipulated him into saying yes to Conner’soffer on the fighting lessons. They told him if he doesn’t ask Conner himself thenthey’ll do it and Tim doesn’t want that.

Half an hour later Tim gets a notification saying that Connerhas accepted his friends request. A minute after that he gets a message throughfrom him, “Have you added me becauseyou’ve reconsidered on taking my offer or because you want to have a go at meagain?”

Tim frowns at the message and replies back, “I didn’t have a go at you, I just told yousharply that it wasn’t anything to do with you. If the offer is still availablethen yes, I have reconsidered.”

“Yeah, the offer isstill there, that’s good to hear I guess. When do you want to do it?”

“How about Wednesdayafter school if that’s good for you. You can come back to my place.”

“Sounds good. See youthen I guess.”

“See ya.”

Tim sits back and looks at their conversation, well that waseasier than expected. Maybe Dick was right about it being simple after all.Though he can’t help but wonder what Conner is thinking right now, maybe he’sfreaking out over it, maybe he’s laughing at Tim and how pathetic he is,perhaps he’s just as confused about the situation as he is.

With that sorted Tim goes ahead and does his nightly routineand prepares for bed. Tomorrow he’s at his adoptive father’s company, so heneeds to not be over tired to deal with that.

Before he knows it, it’s Wednesday and he’s waiting forConner outside of school. They haven’t spoken since Friday night over Facebookso Tim has no idea if this thing is still even on, he hopes it is and he hopesthat it wasn’t all just a set up. As nervous as he is for it, he’s lookingforward to it.

A few minutes Conner comes up to him, “Hey, sorry, I got heldback in class. The teacher was being a dick.”

“Who did you have?” Tim asks, he knows all the teachers andknows that about 90% of them can be dicks.

“Mr. Public.”

Tim makes a face, “Yeah he’s an asshole alright.”

“Yeah…”

They fall into an awkward silence for a minute before Connerclears his throat, “Um, shall we? I, uh, have my truck so I can drive us there or are you getting picked up?”

Tim shakes his head, no I’m not getting picked up. Inormally walk on Wednesdays anyway, so if you’re happy driving then we can go.”

“Okay then let’s go.”

Conner leads the way to his truck and Tim follows. They stayin silence for the whole ride, the only words shared between them is Tim givingConner directions on how to get to his home. They get there and make their wayinside. Tim is fully aware of Conner gaping at everything around them. Comingto Wayne Manor can be overwhelming for the first time, Tim remembers his firsttime arriving at the mansion. The shock and awe that falls over you at seeingeverything so grand can be overwhelming, just the size alone is enough to getpeople looking like gold fish let alone the interior décor.

Tim leads them through the halls and down to the Manor’sgym. It was a wide room full of a variety of equipment, ranging from cardio toweights and then in the centre there are floor mats. Tim turns to find Connergaping at the room, “Holy shit dude. I knew you were rich, but this is, this isreally, fucking hell…”

Tim lets Conner marvel at the room for another minute or so.It was entertaining watching how people react to his home, especially the oneswho go all speechless and gape at everything. After a moment of silence heclaps his hands, “So shall we?”

That seems to bring Conner back to himself, “We shall…”

They spent the rest of the afternoon in the gym. Conner wentthrough teaching Tim the basics of street fighting and how to executecertain moves. When Tim had questioned him on how he knows how to fight theother teen had shrugged and said, “I was involved in several fights at my old school,also I looked them up on YouTube.” Tim had left it at that, there’s no need topry into his life.

By the end of their session a few hours later Tim wassporting new bruises over his body and his crush on this guy had increaseddrastically. He walks Conner back to the front door, after making the samearrangements for the following week Tim waves him off. Once his truck hasdisappeared from sight Tim closes the door and leans against it with hisforehead against the cool glass.

In a rhythm Tim starts to smack his head against it. Whatthe hell is going on? He has a crush on a guy he doesn’t even know. Said guy isteaching him how to fight so he can fight off some stupid school bullies whodon’t really bully him they only occasionally beat him up like once or twice amonth.

Tim groans as his head hits the door again, when had thisbecome his life?

When his head hits something other than the solid glass ofthe door he looks up confused and finds Dick staring at him with a raisedeyebrow, “You okay there Timbo?”

Tim turns and faces him. He slaps his hands down on hisbrothers shoulders sags into him while exclaiming, “Help me, I’m feeling!”

Dick simply laughs and grabs Tim by the arms to keep him onhis feet, “Alright kid, you’re okay. Feelings are normal.”

“I don’t want them!”

“Well tough because you got them.”

Tim makes a whimpering sound and lets Dick carry him throughthe Manor to wherever the man is deciding to take them. Crushes suck.

It became a regular thing between the two of them. Everydayon Wednesday after school Conner would go to the Manor and teach Tim how tofight and every time they meet Tim’s crush grows on him as he gets to know himmore.

Tim has made a lot of progress since Conner had started toteach him how to fight properly, so at least his lessons weren’t being wasted andhe often goes on YouTube to try and improve on the days that Conner isn’t withhim. He has yet to use his new skills on the people they’re originally intendedfor, but he knows he’ll be ready for when he needs them.

It was their third week of meeting up and Tim is waiting forConner outside the school. Like normal on Wednesdays, Conner has Mr. Publiclast period so he’s always a little later, however this time Tim spots himcoming out a piece of paper in clutched in his hands and his head is dippedlow. Tim walks up to him, “Hey you okay?”

Conner looks up at him, “What? Yeah I’m fine.” He thenplasters a fake smile on that pretty face of his.

Tim rolls his eyes, “There’s something wrong because youlook like you have a rain cloud over your head.”

Conner sighs, “I, um, I failed my test.” He admits andshakes the paper in his hand, “which sucks because I actually studied for itand I still get bad results.”

Tim looks at him for a moment and decides on something, “Ifyou like, I could tutor you?”

“You would do that?”

“Yeah sure, think of it as pay back for teaching me how tofight?” Tim smiles at him, while inside his head it’s like a bomb had gone off. What the hell was he doing? This is justsetting himself up for a disaster! Abort! Abort!

Conner gives him a small smile which makes his heartflutter, “Yeah okay. If you don’t mind. What day?”

“How about Fridays? Wednesday’s, we carry on fighting andFridays we can study.” Tim suggests.

“Yeah okay, sounds good.”

“Awesome let’s go.”

So that became their routine for the next couple of weeksand yet again every time they meet Tim’s crush grows more and more and it’s atthe point where it’s killing him. His brothers tease him about it on a regularbasis and often try to ‘help’ him get hooked up, they unhelpfully leave him newpackets of condoms and lube around his room and even in his school bag. What makesthis crush even worse he doesn’t even know if Conner likes guys, knowing Tim’sluck he’s straight as an arrow.

It was their fifth week of meeting up that Conner’s lessonscome into use. It was Tuesday and school had just ended and Tim was outsidewaiting for Alfred to pick him up. He silently watched as students mil about aroundhim, talking excitedly in their friendship groups, some waiting to be picked upand others already walking away.

Tim was minding his own business as he stood waiting forAlfred, books in one hand, his bag over one shoulder and listening to somelight music through his earphones. Then out of no where he lurched forward as something collided against his back.Tim stumbles a few paces before he gains his balance, he spins around to find someof the footballers standing there sinisterly smiling at him and Tim knew whatwas coming. Was it that time of the monthalready?

“You know what Drake, I’ve had a pretty bad day today. Youknow what’ll make me feel better?” Peter asks him.

Tim looks at him, completely bored of the situation, “I don’tknow Peter, perhaps a facial lift maybe?” He quips unable to help himself.

The first punch he didn’t see coming. The strike collides withhis right cheek and knocks him down onto the floor. He’s aware of laughinghappening around him as he tries to comprehend on what just happened. At thesame time he hears a voice break through the laughter, “Tim!”

Conner. Tim starts to pick himself up off the floor when twohands are suddenly on him helping him up. He looks up to find the other teen looking athim with worry, “You okay?”

Tim brushes Conner off him, “Fine.”

“Got the new dog as your bitch now have we Drake?” Peter comments.

Tim turns around and glares at him, it’s one thing to punchhim and call him names but calling Conner a bitch was not okay.

“Tim?” Conner frowns at him.

Tim ignores him and pushes his books into Conner’s hands anddrops his bag by his feet, “Hold these for me.”

With that Tim launches himself at Peter and proceeds topunch him in the face twice and then knee him in the stomach. When Tim stepsaway Peter smirks at him, “Oh, the dogs learnt how to bite.”

Tim snarls at him and launches his own attack again but thistime the other was ready for them and dodges them, he then starts to throw outhis own punches which Tim is able to dodge.

Normally Tim would let them beat him until they were satisfiedso they would then leave him alone, but this time he’s fighting back. With Conner’straining and his pent-up anger, he throws punches and kicks at the bully  and is able to beat him onto the floor. Seeing that he isn’tgetting back up Tim steps away and wipes the blood off his lips with hissleeve, “From now on you aren’t going to touch me anymore. I’ve had it with you’reconstant bullying. Next time I’ll beat you until your unconscious.”

Breathing heavily he turns away from the teen on the floorand the gaping mouths of his friends to face Conner who is also gaping at him. Ignoringat how badly he is shaking Tim smiles at him, “Looks like your lessons cameinto use after all.”

“Apparently.” Conner supplies still looking at him withshock.

Tim watches him for a moment and a sudden wave of boldnessrolls over him, he leans up and places a kiss to Conner’s slightly open mouth. Ashe goes to pull away he feels a hand capture the back of his head and force himback towards Conner’s mouth. Their lips meet again and this time Conner iskissing him back.

Tim can’t help but moan at the warmth of Conner’s mouth. He figuresthat it can’t be that great of a first kiss because he can taste blood in hisown mouth and no doubt that Conner can taste it too. Soon enough they breakapart and look at each other, “You are so hot.” Conner comments with a grin.

The smile is contagious and Tim grins back, “Not so badyourself.” He looks back to find all the footballers staring at them turningback to Conner he says, “Come on, lets go. Alfred is picking me up and you’recoming along.”

Conner lets Tim drag him away to where Alfred was nowwaiting. Tim smiles, getting beat up that day weeks ago wasn’t such a bad thingafter all.

[snarkiara]

Moon Chosen by PC Cast: About the Book + Chapter 1

First Thing’s First: Why did I buy this book?

I really like PC Cast’s earlier work, The Goddess Summoning Series and Tales of Parthelon, they’re well written, witty, and fun. They’re also Romance Novels. (The one’s I have most issue with are the second in Parthelon (Divine by Choice) and the last in Goddess Summoning (Goddess of Legend)) I started disliking her work when she and her daughter wrote The House of Night Series which is . . . disgusting.

Here’s a short list of wrongs from Fandom Hates People of Color

The MC killed two black men for no reason

Another link

Something people always applaud it for is that it doesn’t slut-shame because the main character has a whole bunch of partners and that is just . . . wrong. It does slut-shame other characters via the MC’s misogyny. Also the main character having multiple partners isn’t a good thing because she’s CHEATING on all of them.

Case in point: her ex almost died and ended up in the hospital so she lost her virginity to her teacher (this is statutory rape btw, he was also manipulating her but somehow she still agreed to it while thinking the man she loved was dying???) who she’d been cheating on said ex with and then later when she gets back together with her ex and he’s paranoid the narrative treats it like he’s being paranoid and jealous for no reason despite the fact she cheated on him with three different guys

just. yikes.

So when that series ended and I saw PC Cast was going to do a book alone I wondered “Is everything bad in House of Night from her daughter? How much is from her?” I was also curious because Moon Chosen would be PC Cast’s first solo YA novel. 

Let me tell you right here and now that’s it was not all her daughter.

Moon Chosen is a YA novel published by St. Martin's Griffin in 2016 and it has one sequel entitled Sun Warrior (2017).

The Cover:

It’s not bad. One of the reasons I got it was because of the cover. I especially like the sun-like o (I think it’s supposed to be moon-like but . . .)

Goodreads Summary:

Chosen to embrace her true identity. Chosen to follow her destiny. Chosen to change her world.

Mari is an Earth Walker, heir to the unique healing powers of her Clan, but she has been forced to turn from her duties, until she is chosen by a special animal ally, altering her destiny forever. When a deadly attack tears her world apart, Mari reveals the strength of her powers and the forbidden secret of her dual nature as she embarks on a mission to save herself and her people. It is not until Nik, the son of the leader from a rival, dominating Tribe, strays across her path that Mari experiences something she has never felt before…

Now evil is coming, and with it, a force more terrible and destructive than the world has ever seen, leaving Mari to cast the shadows from the earth. By breaking Clan Law and forming an alliance with Nik, she must make herself ready. Ready to save her people. Ready to save herself and Nik. Ready to embrace her true destiny…and battle the forces that threaten to destroy them all.

Now, there’s a lot to unpack here. PC Cast always uses mythology in her books, focusing on European mythologies such as Greek, Celtic, and Roman. Since the MC in House of Night’s Native American heritage was NOT handled well I was already worried when I realized this story almost definitely took place in a fantasy North America (Hint: The series title is Tales of a New World).

I also want everyone to know that the top two reviews on Goodreads were both 1 stars. XD Here and here.

Now, reminder that when I first got this book like 2 years ago I couldn’t even get past PAGE 2

Without Further Ado: Chapter 1

There’s a lot to unpack here so I’m literally going to transcribe the entire first 2 pages to ya’ll because it is physically painful to read and I want all of you to share my pain.

The contagious sound of women’s laughter filled the warm, tidy burrow.

“Oh, Mari! That is not an illustration from the myth I just told you.”

Mari’s mother held the sheet of handmade paper in one hand and pressed the other hand against her mouth, unsuccessfully trying to hold back another bout of laughter.

“Mama, your job is to tell the stories. My job is to sketch them. That’s our game, right? Our favorite game.”

“Well, yes,” Leda said, still trying to fix her expression to a more sober one. “I do tell the stories, but you tend to sketch what you think you hear.”

“I don’t see the problem with that.” Mari moved to stand beside her mother and studied the newly finished sketch with her. “This is exactly what I saw as you were telling the story of Narcissus and Echo.”

If they’re in North America . . . why are they talking about Greek gods? This tells me that at least Mari’s mother Leda isn’t Native American. (As also evidenced from their names.)

“Mari, you made Narcissus look like a young man turning into a flower. Awkwardly.  He has one hand that is a leaf and the other that is still a hand. The same with his--” Leda stifled a giggle. “Well, with several other parts of his anatomy. And he has a mustache and a silly look on his face--though I do admit it is an amazing talent you have that can bring a silly-looking half flower, half man, to life.” Leda pointed to the sketch and the ghostly nymph who Mari had somehow made to look bored and annoyed as she watched the transformation of Narcissus. “You made Echo look--” Leda hesitated, obviously searching for the right words.

“Fed up with Narcissus and his ego?” Mari offered.

Leda gave up all pretense of admonishment and laughed out loud. “Yes, that is exactly how you made Echo look, though that is not the story I told.”

“Well, Leda.” Mari used her mother’s given name as she waggled her brows at her. “I was listening to your story and as I was drawing I decided that something was definitely left out of the ending.”

Even I know this is too much telling instead of showing.

“The ending? Really?” Leda bumped her daughter with her shoulder. “And stop calling me Leda.”

“But, Leda, that’s your name.”

“To the rest of the world. To you my name is Mother.”

“Mother? Really? It’s so--”

“Respectful and traditional?” This time Leda offered to finish her daughter’s thought.

“More like boring and old,” Mari said, eyes shining as she waited for her mother’s predictable response.

“Boring and old? Did you just call me boring and old?”

“What? Me? Call you boring and old? Never, Mama, never!” Mari giggled and held her hand up in surrender.

This is not how mothers and daughters talk to each other? Gods I miss when PC wrote Romance novels. She is obviously not in her element in YA novels and doesn’t understand that - considering I started reading her work back in middle school and never had any trouble understanding it - she doesn’t need to change her writing style to apply to teenagers. I’m pretty sure that’s what’s happening because it reads more like House of Night than anything else I’ve read of hers so I don’t think it’s devolving I think it’s a deliberate choice.

“All fixed,” She said, holding up the sketch for Leda to inspect.

“Mari, his eyes are crossed,” Leda said.

“The rest of the story made me think he wasn’t too smart. So I made him look not very smart.”

I’ve not even gone half a page and already there’s this ableist crap and Mari shaming her mother for having been a teen mother.

Okay so Mari just named 4 Clans: Clan Weaver, Clan Fisher, Clan Miller, and Clan Wood. How many clans are there and do they all have specializations which give them their names?

[Mari] “Blueberries! Really, Mama? That would be wonderful. I love the color of ink I make with them. It’s a nice change from the black stain I get from walnuts.”

What?

[Leda] “I do, and I’m looking forward to dyeing a new cloak for you this spring, but I admit freely that I would rather eat a blueberry pie!”

WHAT?

So Mari brings up that Leda’s name is from a story and then mentions that her grandmother Cassandra did not name things sensibly. Then . . .

“You know very well that Moon Women always name their daughters whatever is whispered to them on the wind by the Great Earth Mother. My mother, Cassandra, was named by her mother, Penelope. I heard your lovely name whispered by our Earth Mother the full moon night before you were born.”

“My name is boring.” Mari sighed. “Does that mean the Earth Mother thinks I’m boring?”

“No, that means the Earth Mother thinks we should make up a story to go with your name--a story all your own.”

This reads like Mari’s 10 years old. She’s 16-17. So their clan is the Moon Clan and so far they’ve only mentioned Moon Women, no Moon Men and Mari’s father is not from the Moon Clan.

Woah okay here we go.

“Mari, sweet girl, I cannot tell another story tonight, though I wish I could, sunset is not far off, and tonight the moon will be full and brilliant. The needs of the Clan will be great.”

Mari opened her mouth to plead with Leda to stay just for a few moments more, to put her needs before those of the Clan, but before she could speak her small, selfish desire her mother’s body twitched spasmodically, shoulders trembling, head jerking painfully and uncontrollably. Though she had already turned from her daughter, as always trying to shield her from the change night brought with it. Mari knew all too well what was happening.

. . . She took her mother’s hand, holding it in both of hers, hating how cold it had become--hating the pale silver-gray tinge that was beginning to spread across her skin. And wishing, always wishing, that she could soothe the pain that visited her mother with the setting of the sun every night of her life.

Or . . . not? I’m . . . very confused because Mari’s sad she took up her mother’s time till after sunset which causes her mother pain but then . . . continues taking up her time??? Like after her mother goes through this pain they start . . . exchanging gifts? Her mother made her a flower crown that’s called a Maiden . . . Moon . . . Crown. What? 

[I didn’t transcribe this part but I want you all to know that the words “glowmoss” and “glowshrooms” (“which suspended . . . like organic chandeliers”) were actually used.]

Men have finally been mentioned and it doesn’t look good.

“. . . I’m afraid this spring moon won’t be as festive as usual. Not after so many Earth Walkers have been recently captured by the Companions. The Earth Mother feels unusually restless to me, as if uncomfortable changes are coming. Our women have been filled with more sorrow than usual, and our men--well, we know the anger the Night Fever brews within our men.”

“They won’t just be angry, they’ll be dangerous. Damn Scratchers!

“Mari, don’t call your people that. It makes them sound like monsters.”

“They’re only half my people, Mother, and at night they are monsters. [wow wtf] Or at least the men are. What would happen if you didn’t wash them of the Night fever every three days? Wait, I know what would happen. It’s why a Moon Woman’s burrow has to always be hidden, even from her own Clan.” [WTF. btb they live in an actual burrow underground] Frustration and fear caused her words to be harsh, and as soon as she’d spoken them the sadness that filled her mother’s eyes made her regret such harshness.

“Mari, you must never forget that at night, even I have within me the capacity to be a monster.”

“Not you! I didn’t mean you. I’d never mean you!

“But the moon is all that keeps me from becoming more Scratcher than Earth Walker. Sadly, our people cannot call down the moon as I can, so I must do it for them as least once every three nights. Tonight is a Third Night, as well as the spring full moon. Our Clan will gather, and I will Wash [why is this capitalized?] them so that their lives may be open to accept love and joy instead of mired in melancholy and anger . . .”

I have no doubt this is going to be another Native American werewolves story. Seriously? SERIOUSLY? It goes into Mari being self-deprecating after this because she wants more than to be a part of her Clan and then talks about how Leda’s been hiding the truth about Mari her whole life. Presumably, that Mari is only half Moon Clan.

Okay so they talk about Mari’s power and how she keeps failing to do what her mother does but her mother assures her that nothing’s wrong because she “sane” with no sign of “madness or pain.” Leda needs to choose and apprentice but Mari’s wavering because she doesn’t think she’s good enough. Leda wants Mari to join her for the ceremony that night.

So apparently Mari has a choice to-be or not-to-be a Moon Woman?

Leda goes into pain again and Mari agrees to go with her.

Oh. oh no.

“Let me touch up your face. We’ll need to dye your hair again soon, but not tonight.”

Mari stifled a sigh and tilted her face up so that her mother could reapply the muddy mixture that kept their secret.

Leda worked in silence, thickening her daughter’s brow, flattening her cheekbones, and then, lastly, smearing the dirty, sticky clay substance down her neck and arms.

Brownface. Wow. I can’t even.

In other news Mari accidentally touched sunlight which caused a filigree pattern and a rush of power to spread over the skin on her hand even through the brownface.

So. Mari’s lighter skinned than the rest of her clan and she has an affinity for the sun instead of the moon. (btw that’s the opposite of how it should be genetically but whatever) Her mother and her have been hiding this for 17 years by keeping her locked up in the burrow during the day and hidden under clothing and brownface while she’s out at night. Wow.

This chapter was only 10 pages.

[labyrinthofleah]

Happy Birthdate | Miranda/Prompto fluff fic

[I’m uhhh a couple hours-ish late, but HAPPY BIRTHDAY @caughtupinmyownhead​! I hope you enjoy this new episode of “Leah writes fanfic of characters she only knows from gifs, screenshots, and Wikia pages.”]

The Sunny Chocobo had been a hopping hot spot since opening that morning; apparently people really needed a cup of tea and a good book to relax with that day. The café/bookstore saw a steady stream of customers well into the afternoon, right up until Miranda ducked out and ran up to her apartment above the shop.

After changing out of her uniform and fixing her hair, she glanced at herself in the bedroom mirror. She pursed her lips, tried a tentative smile, and finally stuck out her tongue while crossing her eyes.

“…Okay, let’s go already,” she finally muttered wryly. Grabbing her purse, she locked the door behind her and hurried back downstairs.

Gladio, Ignis, and Noctis had arrived and were just starting to throw on the café’s cheerful yellow aprons. Gladio grinned and nodded when he saw her. “Hey, lookin’ good.”

“Guess you’re ready for your date,” Noctis said nonchalantly, fumbling with his apron strings.

“Yeah, right. I’m just helping Prompto haul around some photography gear.” She tried to laugh it off, but judging from how hard Noctis was side-eyeing her it was a futile effort.

“A not-date by the lake. At sunset. Of course,” Ignis commented dryly, tying his own apron with effortless finesse. Gladio plucked a chocobo hat from a nearby merchandise rack and shoved it on Ignis’ head, knocking his glasses askew.

“Uh… haha?” Miranda decided the best course of action at this point was a strategic retreat. Dodging around a table, she threw them a hasty wave. “Thanks for watching the shop for me. Bye!”

The last thing she heard before the door swung shut behind her was Gladio calling, “Don’t worry, we won’t wait up,” followed by an indignant grunt from Noctis as he, too, found himself reluctantly sporting a smiling, bird-shaped hat.

Prompto was fiddling with a point-and-shoot camera near a statue not far from the café. He looked up as she approached, a grin instantly materializing on his face. “Hey, Miranda.”

Shiva on a stick, how has he not been scouted to do toothpaste ads?

“Hey.” She shot him a breezy smile of her own. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah!” He reached down to grab a sturdy-looking bag by his feet. “I got everything right here. Oh man, I can’t wait!”

They started off, falling into easy step with each other. Prompto’s stride was longer than Miranda’s, but she could tell he was deliberately matching his pace with hers. Chatting comfortably, they left the town outskirts and made their way up a dirt walking trail.

“How was work?” He asked. “This day of the week’s usually slow for you, right?”

“Actually, we were pretty busy. It got kind of insane around lunch, but we survived somehow. Did you get that new lens you wanted?”

“Yep, I found a shop that had it yesterday! I got a good deal for it, and they even threw in—”

By the time they reached the lake, Miranda was slightly out of breath. Prompto, on the other hand, looked more alive than ever as he chattered about the features of his new lens. He wasn’t quite skipping, but there was a definite bounce to his step that remained even when they stopped walking.

I guess he needs to have stamina as the prince’s bodyguard… and road tripping around beating up monsters probably doesn’t hurt, Miranda thought with a certain amount of envy as Prompto began digging through his bag. He finally drew out a scope-like contraption.

“This is it!” He held it out proudly to Miranda.

She raised an eyebrow. “That thing is huge. Are you really photographing the scenery, or did you take a hitman job?”

He laughed. “I know, right? It’s going to be so worth it, though. Trust me.”

As he attached it to his camera, Miranda took in the beauty of the natural surroundings. “You know,” she mused, “I don’t get to come out here as often as I’d like, but—”

“Smile!”

She looked back just in time to hear the shutter go off and get blinded by the flash.

“Son of Bahamut!” She yelled, throwing her hands over her eyes.

“Are you okay?!”

When she lowered her hands, she saw Prompto hovering directly in front of her, camera back in the bag. She was suddenly very aware that she could see every single adorable freckle scattered over his nose.

“I… yeah, I just wasn’t prepared.”

“Sorry, I should have given you more warning.” He cupped her face in his calloused hands, leaning in to stare into her eyes. His voice softened. “Can you see okay?”

All she could focus on was the cute way his hair swooped to one side over his forehead. “Perfectly.”

“Oh. Good.”

His hands stayed on her face.

Is this real? Am I still breathing?

His thumb ghosted lightly over her cheek, just beside her ear.

Valefor, take the wheel.

He moved in. She closed her eyes. And then, nothing mattered except his lips, soft and warm against hers.

He pulled away at last with a goofy, dreamy smile. She knew she was wearing one to match.

“…You said we were coming here to take pictures of the scenery,” she murmured.

“No, I said I wanted to photograph my favorite part of visiting this town.” He brushed some hair back from her face. “I had a whole lead-up planned and I guess I kind of ended up doing this backwards, but--”

He hesitated, worrying at his lip, but finally continued.

“I like you… a lot, Miranda. Will you, uh… go out with me?”

She giggled, reaching up to touch his cheek in turn. “Like you have to ask? I like you too, Prompto. A lot.”

A brilliant, relieved smile broke out over his face. He stepped back and drew out the point-and-shoot camera from inside his jacket. “Shall we take a commemorative photo of this momentous occasion?”

Miranda rolled her eyes in mock-exasperation at his dramatic tone, leaning into him as he wrapped an arm snugly around her. “Guess it’d be a waste not to.”

“Right?” He raised the camera so they were both looking straight into the lens. “Say, ‘fuzzy pickles’!”

“Fu—”

He turned his head and kissed her again, and she heard the shutter go off.

~*~*~*The End*~*~*~

[hope the characterizations were okay, lol. XD]

[verratensduo]

Bertl or Levi for the chara meme?

Botjh for your pleasure Clyde XD

First, Bertholdt

How do I feel about this character: Honestly, I have had an up down relationship with Bert as a reader/viewer. I started off indifrant to him, then  I sort of started to like him, then I learned he was the colossal titan and helped murder Marco and hated him, then I learned of what he had been through and fell in love with the character all over again, I think his ending arch was quite fitting, please don’t be mad.

What do I like/admire about this character: I admire how he questioned what they where doing.

What do I dislike about this character: The fact he went along with the plan, though I acknowledge he had no choice, and was suffering from huge Stockholm syndrome.

Favourite moment for this character: Honestly his death scene, because it showed even someone who would have welcomed the sweet embrace of death can still fear death

Who I ship romantically with this character and why: Reiner, I just think that Reiner could help Bertholdt get the confidence he needs and would be paitent while Berholdt was built back up from his shy self.

Who are my platonic ships for this character and why:Annie, I think she would make a good protective big sister. (*crosses fingers and hopes no one takes offense to my ship of them being mainly platonic*)

Things done in fanfiction with this character that annoy me: Secretly sick, evil and sadistic Bertholdt who laughed as he watched marco die and likes killing people and hates humans.

Things done in fanfiction with this character I want to see more of: Bertholdt who wants to stop hurting people and is too afraid to voice this opinions for fear his fellow warriors would hurt him and what Marley would do to him.

Okay now Levi

How do I feel about this character: I actually love how well written Levi is and fell in love with how he goes from common criminal to humanity’s hero.

What do I like/admire about this character: The fact Levi is loyal and will go to extreme lengths to ensure his people’s survival out in titan territory, but always tries to make sure the family has something to remember their fallen by.

What do I dislike about this character: How willing he is to be physically abusive if he thinks it will help a situation.

Favourite moment for this character: When Levi comforts a dying soldier that his death benefited humanity somehow, like he wanted this guy to rest easy. It made me cry.

Who I ship romantically with this character and why: Erwin and Hanji, they seem to have good chemistry and really seem to take care of eachother, and I think Levi could keep them both in check.

Who are my platonic ships for this character and why:I think it is needless to say squad Levi because he was their leader, Isabel and Farlan because they ran together in the under ground. Eren as his son, papa Levi is cute, and Levi’s often times gentle but firm approach is just what Eren needs to turn out right.

Things done in fanfiction with this character that annoy me: Cold heartless, does not care about anyone but Erwin and cleaning.

Things done in fanfiction with this character I want to see more of: Complex character that loves all his comrades and has a soft spot for animals and wants to make sure all the fallen are properly recognized.