#the lady did not want to see this coat go to waste and i for one appreciate her for it

[swallowedabug]

@killjoysmonth favorite outfit/look

[lilia-calderus-pet-goat]

Headcanons for a³'s coven of chaos, part 6, Lilia's history edition:

(previous part of headcanons, here.)

Lilia wasn't born into sicilian aristocracy. She was born in the carpathian mountains. Her parents were romani, victims of persecution, and so she was orphaned & taken in by her maestra.

As a little girl, Lilia was insanely self-conscious, shy and withdrawn.

She used to have a pet goat. Hence my username. Now, she's upset that it's become some sort of satanic-associated stereotype that witches talk to goats.

When she started showing signs of her forgetfulness, her visions, her flashes—people will have treated her as 'defective' and 'faulty.' One of those kids that just 'isn't very bright.'

She hated the texture of those darn dresses. Her Maestra eventually noticed her discomfort and passed down the shirt and coat we see her wear on the road—since the costume designer said they were indeed passed down to her.

Her maestra taught her how to sew, knit—and a great deal of sicilian, Italian and greek recipes. Her maestra enjoyed cooking, and she enjoyed drinking tea.

Her maestra also taught her a little pan flute. It was many years kater that she studied the zills by herself. She had a lot of free time as a hermit, okay?

She'd get easily distracted, she wouldn't pay attention when others spoke. She'd struggle with eye-contact. Her voice would trail off. Once in a while, she'd get really excited about something and go on a long rant, until breathless—which would be met with judgement. She'd space out and others would laugh at her.

But despite the fact she was considered strange, even by her sister witches—her covenmates did love her. Like you live siblings even as you tease them—and she was one of the youngest, if not the youngest.

The maestra was undoubtedly a strict, no-nonsense woman. But she was also the first, perhaps the only person, who sat down to understand Lilia's unique condition. Whenever she'd catch her 'visiting,' which was often, she would focus on guiding & keeping her calm.

She was desperate to toughen Lilia up, seeing how afraid and insecure she was. The maestra worried for her and didn't want her to end uo helpless. So, she taught her everything she knows—like a mother—even if everyone else thought she was wasting time, since Lilia struggled a lot initially. (“tea-leaves, i was bad at tea-leaves...”)

Lilia's Maestra had known about the fever that will wipe out their coven since before little Lilia hot the vision—since on their first lesson, 450 year old Lilia time-slipping from the Witch's Road told her. Despite this, the maestra didn't tell Lilia, because having seen how dark and sad her future is, she wanted her to feel safe and happy for a little while longer.

The first time Lilia met Jen (and afterwards, the rest of them) was exactly then. As adult Lilia was talking to her maestra, little Lilia was in the tunnels, experiencing her life out of sequence as she always had. She simply couldn't remember the flashes of her future coven or make sense of anything.

Lilia tried to warn everyone of the fever despite the fact it was set in stone, because of her own denial. None of her covenmates believed her—'Looney Lilia is at it again'—but her maestra, who already knew it would happen, simply repeated that death comes for us all.

Lilia would see Rio all the time in her full-skull form when she was young, in flashes. Rio's been following her! She thinks they're besties! Lilia is scared shitless!

Lilia's first girlfriend was one of the Doñas de fuera. In the historical folklore of Sicily, Doñas de fuera (Spanish for "Ladies from the Outside"; Sicily was under Spanish rule at the time) were supernatural female beings comparable to the fairies of English folklore. In the 16th to mid-17th centuries, the doñas de fuera also played a role in the witch trials in Sicily. In historical Sicilian folklore, the doñas de fuera} would make contact with humans, mostly women deemed to have “sweet blood”, whom they took to Benevento ("the Blockula of Sicily"), by mounting them on magical, flying goats.

Compared to surrounding countries, the witch trials in Sicily were relatively mild: in most cases, the accused were either freed, sentenced to exile, or jailed, rather than sentenced to death.

In Lilia's case, after the death of her coven, when she was left alone, she was eventually put to trial and exiled from Sicily.

She traveled from medieval village to medieval village across Europe, chased with pitchforks each time. She thought every tragedy was her fault.

She was in Strasbourg, France, to witness the Dancing Plague. She tried to warn everyone, but they called her crazy.

Another old friend of Lilia's, while in France, was Carabosse, based on whom the wicked fairy/Maleficent was created. Lilia watched once more as she turned into a racist caricature after her death. MANY years later, she went and watched Tchaikovsky sleeping beauty ballet—and then proceeded to go and punch him also.

Heinrich Kramer tried to hit on her. If you don't know, he was a German churchman and inquisitor. With his widely distributed book Malleus Maleficarum, which describes witchcraft and endorses detailed processes for the extermination of witches, he was instrumental in establishing the period of witch trials in the early modern period. Professor Malcolm Gaskill has described Kramer as a "superstitious psychopath."

And Lilia, in fact, was good friends (potential fling??) with Helena Scheuberin, an Austrian woman who stood trial accused of witchcraft just because she herself had rejected Henrich Kramer's advances. During the trial, thirteen other people were accused. Lilia was one of them. Luckily, the trial was dismissed.

She stayed in Germany for a while, to live with her good friend (perhaps even girlfriend.) Aka, the witch from Hansel & Gretel. She watched her, later, be put to death in her own over—persecuted for witchcraft. And then, she watched again as her tale was combined with other medieval stereotypes and bastardized into an antisemitic stereotype that painted her as a cannibalist, child-stealing villain. Lilia hates it. She says it's a tale that celebrates the order of the patriarchal home, seen as a haven protected from the dangerous characters that threaten the lives of children outside, while it systematically denigrates the adult female characters, which are seemingly intertwined between each other.

She met Evanora Harkness when she was pregnant and deeply disliked her.

While in Germany, she was subjected to yet another witch trial. She survived, hasn't talked about how, but she has scars from it that she will not show. (Würzburg witch trials. The Würzburg witch trials of 1625–1631, which took place in the self-governing Catholic Prince-Bishopric of Würzburg in the Holy Roman Empire in present-day Germany, formed one of the biggest mass trials and mass executions ever seen in Europe, and one of the largest witch trials in history.)

After Germany, she went to England to escape that mess of trauma. And so she witnessed the Great Plague of London, lasting from 1665 to 1666, was the most recent major epidemic of the bubonic plague to occur in England.

She lived in Styria for quite a few years, where she dated Carmilla, from the lesbian vampire novel. Eventually, they broke up. Lilia had been empathetic at first, but grew tired of being fed off of and punched her.

Out of spite, she spent a decade or two in Transylvania, helping other vampires escape vampire hunting trials. She witnessed a lot of friends be killed.

She lived in Greece for a few years after the Greek War of Independence. Later spent time in Asia Minor, until she had enough of Greek and Turkish witches arguing about who coffee reading belongs to.

She became an opera singer in spain, for a while. One of the many jobs she took over the years. It's when she met Tchaikovsky, in a trip to russia, as mentioned earlier, and bitch-slapped that twink into oblivion.

While in russia, she also met Alexandra Kollontai.

She met Rosa Luxemburg during the First World War. She also met Clara Zetkin.

She went to Argentina for a few years, met Virginia Bolten.

So, America it is... She wasn't happy about it. She went to Massachusetts, like a moth to the flame. Not Salem, no—Boston.

She was friends with Sylvia Plath. Maybe they even kissed a little!! Lilia tried to help her, but couldn't.

Her mental health was so terrible that she couldn't hold jobs for too long. She worked as a seamstress, as a stenographer, a governess, a maid.

She got married to a gay man, one time, for a few years, because people grew suspicious. He died.

She decided she deserved to be alone, because she was a bad omen. A jinx, a habringer of doom. She chose the life of the hermit.

She was at the Women’s Suffrage Parade in 1913 in Washington, D.C.

During the roaring 20's she became a jazz singer. She wasn't able to continue, because she was getting some really bad mental health episodes.

She had to sell a lot of her old sicilian jewellery and good dresses for money after the economy crashed on 1929. The Great depression made her... Greatly depressed.

She was unable to keep paying for a house and started traveling with a caravan. If she'd stayed in Boston at that time, perhaps she could have met Jen. She didn't.

She was attacked & robbed three separate times while in said caravan.

Obviously she's a polyglot, familiar with the language of every country she's lived in. But even as she forgets words and confuses details between languages, she never forgets anything about her native tongue. She hasn't been in Italy for centuries, but all her notes & personal writings are in Sicilian. She really misses speaking it and she feels like she can never truly, genuinely express herself in English.

Before whichever war, due to all the death she was predicting, she'd scream and cry like a banshee. It's one of the reasons she repressed her magic, put it away, ignored it.

She was in The March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom on 1963.

She was in the stonewall riots in 1969. She made some friends again, non witch folk.

She was also in Woodstock, again, in 1969.

She did activism during the AIDS crisis. She lost the friends she made.

At one point she got bored and got a history degree.

At another point she got bored and got a philosophy degree.

She's taught in schools, once or twice, but was deemed unfit after a few years even though the students loved her.

She moved to New Jersey, opened Madame Calderu's Psychic Readings and Lilia's Leggings, but the money from that is still not enough. I mean, her house is decomposing, her bed is her wall, and her food is scarce enough that she doesn't mind a lapsed expiration date. Girl is dirt poor.

She does a lot of children's parties. She often hates the parents, though.

She has very few clients on the daily, but one of her regulars (in both businesses) is Madisynn King from She-Hulk.

[lurochar]

A Daily Stroll

Based on the Alastor comic

Warnings: I am really really bad at writing at headcanons it seems

---------

It was a daily routine for you and Alastor to go on strolls around the streets of Hell. Despite the fact you and Alastor having been together for almost the entirety of his reign as an Overlord, Sinners still have trouble seeing the sadistic Radio Demon in any part of a romantic relationship.

You were Alastor’s assistant in life, but never married. Of course, there were questions about your exact role, as there were scandalous rumours flying about. Alastor paid you well enough that you could support yourself.

You were murdered about five years after Alastor’s own death by one of his victim’s family members, believing you were his accomplice.

It was one of his few regrets, not confessing to you. He just didn’t want to drag you down with him if he did ever get caught for his crimes. He’s honestly surprised to find you in Hell, but now he has his second chance and he isn’t wasting it.

You accept and so your daily life as the wife of the Radio Demon begins.

Everyday, you and Alastor go to the same cafe with the same shaky nervous waiter. Alastor just ‘tsks’ at you when you throw a few crumbs of your meal at those hungry-looking birds watching your every move. “Darling, don’t waste food on those filthy scavengers.” It doesn’t take him long to join you if the food isn’t to his liking, though.

Next on your stroll, is a park where naturally flowers bloom, which is a rarity in Hell. In life, Alastor had given his mother flowers on the regular and you red roses in particular. Now, he can no longer touch any flower without them immediately wilting, which is quite the shame.

You had long since noticed his annoyed sneer when yet another rose withered in his fingers and you smiled, reaching into your coat. “It took me a while, but I finally learned to make this!” You said excitedly. “Please, bend down for me!”

Alastor’s eyes gain a curious look, but he does as you ask and bends down. A brow raises when he feels you tying something around one of his ears and watches as you stand back and seem to stare at him proudly. “Now what is this?” He reaches up to feel what it is.

You reach into your coat again. “Paper flowers.” You hold one out for him to see. “I know, it’s not as pretty as the real thing. But… but I thought I should try something?”

“It’s lovely, Darling.” 

And so is your proceeding smile.

Cannibal Town is both charming and daunting. Your tastes are not the same as Alastor’s and it’s always a bit unpleasant to see a group of Sinners feasting upon some poor soul unfortunate to wind up as their dinner, but this is Hell and you are no judge.

“Morning, Alastor~♡!” 

It was a swarm of women with hearts in their eyes and blood dripping down their faces and Alastor politely bows his head in return. “Good morning, ladies.” His ear, with the paper rose still tied around it, twitches at your laugh. He’s only being a gentleman, after all. He can’t ignore a greeting from a lady. “Give Rosie a hello from me!”

“Popular as ever, I see.” You say teasingly as Alastor veers you away, not wanting to deal with flirting women when he was out with his wife. “I guess that’s what I get for marrying a celebrity, hmm?” 

He’s content you’re secure enough not to be jealous – he couldn’t even fathom the thought of ever straying from you.

“Speaking of celebrities…” You cough, noting the demons who are just staring blankly into the windows of the stores you both are passing. You grimace and Alastor sneers at the sight of Vox on the TVs. “Is he still…?”

“Madly obsessed with the both of us? Very much so.” Alastor grips his microphone cane harshly, his voice breaking the hypnotizing spell on the two Sinners standing there. “There really is nothing good on these picture box shows, hmm?” The demons instantly run. “Come, Darling. No need to waste time here. A new meat shop has opened and I would like to try it.”

You both stroll along until you reach the meat shop Alastor was talking about. There was a boar butcher, who looked nervous at the sight of the famous Radio Demon. “My good man. I do hope you have fresh venison! My wife and I are partial to it, you see!” Alastor grins and the butcher shudders.

The meat is packed quickly and you and Alastor are on your way out of the shop, passing a lamb Sinner. It only takes a moment, but screams are heard and you both stop and you can see Alastor’s smile is tense. That butcher was a fool, it seemed. You both are back in the shop to see the lamb being choked by the butcher.

“You know, I do really hate those who can’t show a little more respect to those of fairer means.” Alastor is shifting into his more demonic form and you are left to comfort the lamb. “It’s rather distasteful. LIKE BAD MEAT.” Now the butcher is the one screaming and you usher the crying lamb out of the shop.

It’s not long at all before Alastor exits with a bloody bag in hand. “It’s not as tasty as venison, but won’t boar do for tonight’s dinner, Darling?” He grinned and you laughed nervously, blinking when the lamb shyly pulled on your arm with tears in her big eyes.

“T-thank you for saving me!” She squeaked. “How can I repay you? This happens to me a lot.” She confessed. “I’ll give my soul for protection.” 

You are taken back by her blunt offer, but Alastor is used to this sort of thing and it’s clear he does not see any worth in the lamb’s bid and he summons a card out of the air to hand to the lamb. “My dear, go to Cannibal Town and ask for Rosie. Perhaps she can be of some assistance to you? Do keep that card on you, otherwise you will end up as mutton.” Alastor sends the lamb off on her way.

“So kind of you, Alastor~”

It was just another daily stroll with your Radio Demon.

[sarawritestories]

DarkSide of Prythian WIP

Here are some quotes from some of the requests for the Darkside of Prythian "series" I'm working on! Thank you all who submitted a request, my sweet, unhinged little Readers 🤭 I'm going to try to post one of these request once maybe twice a week some of these I imagine are going to be Loooooonnnng so bear with me as I work through them! Alright, enough rambling below the cut is the goods! These are subject to change once I get deep into writing but a treat none the less!

Content warning: Our leading ladies are all tied down and / or silenced in some capacity In these sneak peeks. There is mentions of slipping drugs in food and alluding to mind control.

I Can See You

Stalker Az X Fem Reader

You were the most beautiful creature the shadowsinger had ever seen. Even with tears sliding down your face; your panties stuffed in your mouth held in place by a shadow wrapped around your head. The Spymaster wouldn't want to disturb your neighbors after all. That wouldn't be Polite.

And Azriel was always polite.

You Belong To Me

Dark Cassian X Mated Fem Reader

You tugged at the bonds, keeping you in the chair when rough calloused hands gripped your cheeks tightly, "You are my mate, You belong to me." You whimpered as he placed a chaste kiss on your lips, "By the end of the week, you will accept the bond." He whispered as he released his grip on your face and scooped up a bite of food with a fork. You pressed your lips together, not wanting to accept any food from the general. "You need to eat," he tried to reason. You shook your head, and frustration coated the male's features as he quickly pinched your nose. "Open." He commands with a lethal calm that caused a shiver down your spine that you did what he asked. Not wasting a second, he placed the utensil in your mouth and began to feed you.

The food was delicious. You hated to deny it, but you were so hungry you didn't think twice about whether your fated mate laced it with anything.

To Be Mine...Forever

Dark Azriel X Reader (Rhys' Sister)

Azriel smiled at you, his eyes had a dangerous look to them as his hand grazed down the lace of your gown. Your wedding gown,"You are a vision, in white, my love. I'm sure the heir of Autumn would have loved you in it." You cried out muffled as he had wrapped your veil through your teeth, not wanting to hear your protests. The chains on your wrist rattled as you tried to lunge for him. He gripped your face, "Don't be a brat, I'm freeing you from the lowley confines of the Autimn court. You were never meant to be there. To be with him." He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead as your eyes brimmed with tears not finding comfort by his touch, "You were meant to be mine... Forever." He pulls the veil from your lips only to seal his lips to yours.

My Best Friends Girl

Dark Rhysand X Azriel's Mate (fem Reader)

A hand clamped over your mouth, jolting you awake. Your eyes met familiar violet ones as Rhysand pressed a finger to his own lips. "Shhh shh shh, It's only me, baby." He whispered, and your heart rate slowed to a normal pace. Your eyes shifted over to the Illyrian beside you. Azriel still sounded asleep in your bed, though his shadows were swirling, trying to wake him up. "Look at me, Pretty girl." Your eyes moved back to your high lord, his hand still around your mouth. "I'm going to take you away from here. Would you like that?" Would you like that? Your body screamed that it was wrong? Though your mind kept repeating:

Stay with the High Lord he will keep you safe.

Rhys, knowing your pretty little head was heavy nodded it for you with the hand pressing down on your lips, accepting his offer to steal you away, to free you. To keep you safe.

SongBird

Modern Mafia AU Cassian X Fem Reader

Cassian's men strapped you to the leather chair, and you struggled to no avail as the leather straps cinched your skin to the chair. The man had a smug look on his face as he sat at the stool a sucker in his mouth, a tattoo gun in his gloved hand. Your breathing became labored. "What are you going to do with that?" You asked.

He pulled the candy out of his mouth and smiled, "Claiming what's mine, My sweet Songbird." You opened your mouth to protest, but instead, the sweet taste of cherry hit your tongue as Cassian shoved the sucker he was eating in your mouth. You instantly closed your mouth on the candy as the sound of the machine rang through the room, and he began tattooing your outer thigh.

Not caring that he was writing, "Property of Cassian," permanently on your skin, you simply hummed thinking about your love for cherry flavored things.

[lopposting]

guys.

I think I did it.

I think I cracked Lies of P.

(me rn)

i keep going back and forth on carlo's death.

i know i was adamant before, on him dying from the petrification disease. i think logically he would have to have had it because of ergo.

but here's another weird point about his death,

i just realized why we intrinsically think he was killed.

Carlo is wearing his school uniform when his stalker finds him, and on the floor at that. That's quite odd. Maybe not being on the floor, but the uniform. Why the uniform?

"He didn't even come to your graduation?"

For the son of an aristocratic family, would this be the image of a deathly ill son in care? Did Geppetto know? Wouldn't he be in palliative care, as Lady Antonia could afford?

Why wear the uniform after graduating?

"Oh, she's here! Grab her!"

"...Gemini, get rid of them! I'm off!"

Was his death literally right after his graduation, on the same day?

And also, Gemini is a little lamp guy. (She doesn't look to be carrying the lamp.) Why does she tell him to take care of the boys? What can he even do? Tell them off?

Here's another funny thing... We NEVER see Carlo outside of his school uniform. (at least, in the "past", "real" Carlo time line).

And as we know, the school uniform has a prominent Sailor collar, the type that is associated with nautical outfits [down to the three stripes, supposedly called a "naval collar"]. The Graduation pendant that he gives to Romeo is of an anchor. [I know that these are all artifacts of the charity house. but they are nonetheless associated in tangent with Carlo]

When we find Carlo's painting, it's right next to this one of a ship. [also, two bottles on the counter, perhaps representing the "two lives" of Carlo and Pino]

also... when Carlo's memories materialize... it's in the sand. Only on the seaside.

Remember, Romeo seems to be associated with a fire element, and Pino with water, the same seems to go with Carlo. The original novel of Pinocchio itself seems to have a strange fixation on the ocean.

And now, might I present to you:

The DLC images are also of a ship and some kind of water turbine.

Director Choi (in pre-release interview): "I'll put it this way: there are more stories I want to tell in Lies of P, so I hope [it] does well."

Also: "There sure are stories we could not introduce in the game" (talking about the story being adapted into another form)

[basically, that there was more to the story than what was really present in the final game.] I'll leave all this to your consideration without adding my own just yet. (I'll add it in a reblog on my own blog without tagging it) Just kidding I want to keep wasting everyone's time

Perhaps after the events of the game,

This is some sort of effort by Pino to either learn more about the deceased Carlo or try to remember his "previous life" as Carlo, by taking to the sea.

Maybe even after the game, Pino will STILL attempt to "awaken" as him so to speak [:(].

[Maybe he actually will.]

Again, Carlo is strongly associated with nautical elements. Again, he is never seen outside of a sailor suit, basically. Also, when we gain the memories of Carlo, they materialize on the sand, at the seaside. Remember, he DIED in the sailor outfit

Maybe we are to take the "sand memories" more "literally" as they are in the sand?

Did Carlo drown and his body wash ashore, which is why these memories materialize in the sand? Why is he so associated with ships?

Pino is also depicted in the water, remember, including what looks to be concept art that was used for the OST? Maybe it isn't "just" a motif? [even simple things like his "official" coat and his eyes being blue, blue blood's tailcoat, and him being associated with the colour blue in general]

Which is why Pino is pictured in the water, since he was "born" from Carlo's death... He was birthed in the water the same way Carlo died in it?

[more notes in reblog]

[bubzebii]

We all have cravings

Yan! Mikey x reader

This is kinda like a part two for the Yan Mikey hc I made. Also just know this is strictly fiction, I do NOT support this Irl if you do please seek help. This is my contribution to horrortober ig. I did not proof read this at all so I hope u enjoy my brain rot.

Tw: build up, poor writing, blood, kidnapping, yandere themes, cannibalistic themes, anxiety, panic attacks, nonconsensual touching (nonsexual), overall bad time for y/n

I hate my job. Customer service is bitch in a half, I swear to god customer service employees are doing gods work. I can’t even wipe tables in piece without some lady yelling at me about how her frappe has too much ice like it’s a global issue. What’s worse is how I spend 8 hours of my life for this, I need a better job.

Walking down the slightly empty streets of New York, my body aching for my beloved bed. I look at the shops as I walk by, absorbing all the trinkets and doodads inside. One place though, stopped me in my tracks, a quaint little bakery near by an alleyway. the inside had a golden glow to it, it was almost unreal, beautiful, and the smell was amazing.

so as any normal young adult would do, I walk in, not knowing what I want to buy. I instantly feel regret setting inside my stomach, why did I walk in? Oh god I can’t just leave without buying anything, maybe they didn’t noticed I walked in? Looking around right as that thought sped through my mind, I made eye contact with the baker, they greeted me, but god of course they saw me.

Well due to social obligation, I HAVE to buy something. Panic started to rise as I still have no idea what to buy, knowing the baker isn’t even rushing me, the panic is still there. Just as I thought all hope was lost, I felt another pair of eyes on me. Turning I see a man in a trench coat and fedora, staring at me through the glass like I’m one of the wonders of the world. Weirdo. We make eye context for a second before he snaps out of it, and stumbles inside.

Thank god, an out I thought as the man walked closer to the counter. “You can order first if you’d like, Im still deciding.” We made eye contact again, despite the added difficulty the fedora he was wearing made. “Wow, thanks stranger! You know this place has some delicious raspberry sweet rolls! I totally recommend them if you haven’t tried any!” Sweet rolls? As a recommendation? This dude just keeps getting weirder and weirder, but considering I don’t know what else to get, I might as well try it, what’s the harm? “Hmm that does sound tempting, maybe I will” making sure to add a smile after, the man seems to beam at my remark. “Trust me, they are AMAZING especially with some chamomile tea and vanilla scones”

Pfft- What are you? A rich old white British lady? “Pfft hahahah! Good one, it really does sound like I am huh?” He continues to laugh even harder as the “joke” sets in as I stare in shock and horror. Did I really just say that out loud? “My names Mikey, what’s yours stranger?” He says while wiping a tear from his eye. “Oh uhm- y/n” were doing introductions now I guess. “Well y/n it’s nice to meet you” holding his hand out, I didn’t fail to notice the green skin and the three fingers outstretched towards me.

Oh my god, what the hell?! An excuse, think of an excuse. “We should probably order, don’t wanna hold up the line” good one me. He looks behind us and I follow suit; low and behold, no one else of course. He chuckles before turning back to me and says, “I guess you have a point”. Retracting his hand he turns to the cashier and places his order. The cashier told him that he’s gonna have to wait for 20 minutes for it to be ready, Mikey nods and turns to me before asking the cashier for those raspberry sweet rolls. Oh god-

“Oh can you make those separate?” I sputter before Mikey quickly answers, “I insist, I don’t want you to waste your money if you don’t like it!” Convincing argument plus free food? You win this round “Mikey”.

After paying Mikey and I go to sit down at a nearby booth. Maybe I have him pegged wrong my mind started rationalizing. Maybe it’s a medical condition? We sat for a good minute in silence as I’m overthinking per usual. “So, what do plan to do with a whole loaf of zope bread?” I say to avoid the loud thoughts buzzing through my head. “Oh! Well I was planning on making it myself but I might as well try this places zone, I’m planning on pairing it with some-“ before he can continue, the cashier called out the raspberry sweet rolls to catch out attention.

I got the rolls and walked back to the booth. “Well, here’s my order”

…

“So…see ya…”

Before I could even take a step though, Mikey shot up “whaaat?! B-but you didn’t even try it! I want to see if you like it or not!” He stared at me with pleading eyes, like a dog begging it’s human for a treat. Why is he so invested in this? “I didn’t think you’d want to know my feedback..” “well duhhh, I recommend it to you, I just have to know i hit the nail on the head!” Oh… well whatever it takes to leave faster. I grabbed a roll and popped it in my mouth, it was EXPLODING with flavor. I think Mikey could tell with the knowing smirk that spread across his face.

After that we started talking more in the restaurant, I got to know him more. Apparently he has three more brothers, when he made me guess which one he was, it wasn’t hard to tell he’s the youngest. Eventually his order was done, disappointment sent in me because, well, this was actually a pleasant interaction with a not so total stranger. Acquaintance if you will. By the time his order was ready, I already ate all the rolls, so I guess this is it.

“It was nice meeting you, I didn’t really plan staying out this late.” I said as we walked out, the sky nearly dark. “It was reallyyy nice meeting you too, you know…” he stated reaching in his pocket. “If you need any more expert cooking advice, give me a call!”

.

.

.

That should’ve been it, but noooo, I just HAD to call back, we just HAD to get to know each other more, he just HAD to show me his “secret” identity…I just HAD to fall in love…no..for his tricks

It all started with food, a fucking roll no less. He fed me and like a wild animal I kept coming back. I ignored all the red flags, all my friends concerns, not noticing how they quickly left my life after venting to Mikey about them. I kept coming back for more like a dumb dumb animal.

But now here I am, a small closet with one twin bed and barren walls, no fan or vent. What did I do to deserve this? What avengers level threat did I cause to end up here? There’s barely anything to do besides relive old mistakes and sweat. Dare I say it, I even miss my job and being a useful member of society.

The door finally opened the reveal the devil himself, Mikey. But somethings off…I’ve been here long enough to read Mikey’s face like a book. He looks nervous, like he wants something nervous… fear started to creep within me, what did he want now?

Usually he brings stuff in like crafts or food and water, but this time, it’s just him. Closing the door behind him, he speaks. “Hi my Angel…” a grimace grew on my face. That nickname used to make me swoon, but now it makes me want to throw up. “I have a very important question to ask you”

This was the question that ruined my life…and I thought it couldn’t get any worse… he wanted me…ME. To… just the thought is making me gag- EAT HIM. LITERALLY. The thoughts in my head started swarming me, his justifications and explanations fall on deaf ears as the room swirls around me. He gently grabs my forearms snapping me back, since when did I start crying? I can’t even breath right, I feel like I’m drowning.

“Listen, I know it sounds really really REALLY crazy, but I need you to trust me… you’ll be okay. This will be good for us! We’ll be together all the time isn’t that great?” No, it’s not great, far from it actually. “I won’t force you to do it now of course, take your time, I’ll wait, I’ll always wait for you”

Ever since then, no matter how much I stalled, it was only putting off the inevitable. No matter what I did, it never swayed him. Actually, it did, but not how I would’ve wanted. He started giving me less and less to eat. It started off small with a few less portions, but I never noticed the twitch in his smile whenever I put down his encouragement to chomp on his arm. He started giving less portions and no breakfast anymore, id be lucky if he gave me dinner.

Im hungry, starving even. It hurts, it hurts so so much. He would always come in more often, lifting his arm and encouraging me to bite. “Come on, you can do it baby”. It pisses me off. How dare you kidnap me after I gave you my trust. How dare you put me in a cramped tiny room, having to solely rely on you for everything. HOW DARE YOU force me to break EVERYTHING I thought was RIGHT all while you look at me and TELL ME YOU LOVE ME.

.

.

.

I hate you. I failed to notice hot tears running down my face. I hate you. I also failed to notice how hard I shook, how my teeth grinding against each other until it hurt. FUCKING I HATE YOU

Red, it’s all I can see. I used laughing when any character in media say they saw red, can you blame me? It sounds so…dumb, but I get it now. I understand, how ironic. Apparently, I could..taste red too…

Snapping back to reality a brick of drowsiness crashes down onto me, I must’ve had some high adrenaline because my jaw started hurting like a bitch. Liquid runs down my jaw, it’s warm..fresh. Why do I feel something on my tongue-

Shock slaps me in the face, my eyes go as wide as saucers, what have I done?? Looking up at Mikey I see the sheer amount of euphoria in his face, his eyes holding so much love, it might spill out. I need this thing out of me, I need HIM out. I gag trying to spit it out but he quickly puts his hand on my mouth. “you can do it, swallow quickly, it’ll all be over, your doing amazing” I don’t even think before swallow the lump down. The worst part about this whole experience was feeling the lump of meat slide down my throat and plop into my stomach. My mouth instantly starts salivating, and I’m forced to question if it’s because of the hunger still in me or the sheer amount of disgust and horror in me trying to throw it up while Mikey whispers sweet nothings in my ear.

Everything is too much. The air is too hot, too heavy, too wet. It feels horrible on my skin. It’s too noisy, to crowded, too much. Mikey only hugs me tight to his chest, his arm still bleeding , all while I lean in considering how it’s the only comfort I’ll get out of this hell hole. “I knew you’d trust me…I love you.. so so sooo much. I’ll never leave your side. We’re bound together as one, isn’t that great?”

All I could do was sob violently, slowly passing out, everything slowly fading to black.

[raspberryfingers]

A Lion in the Garden -Tywin Lannister x Reader- (Part 9)

WARNINGS: Nudity, mentions of PTSD

Word Count: 5k

—————

Lord Tywin pushed the door of the inn open, and the second that we stepped inside it seemed to go entirely silent. Of course, even an idiot would have figured out why. The Old Lion was in his regular attire, and the Hand of the King pin was still attached to his leather coat. Every single person there was staring at us, and the woman running the inn instantly noticed, wasting no time as she hurried over to help us. 

“M-M’lord, M’lady, can I do anything for the two of you?” she questioned nervously, probably not expecting to see Tywin Lannister walking in on a random day. 

Looking around, I realized that most of the soldiers here were Tyrell men. Upon seeing me, they had instantly pushed the whores from their laps and sat a little straighter. If I wasn’t absolutely freezing it might’ve made me laugh. 

“Do you have any rooms available?” Lord Tywin asked, running his hand over his wet hair. We looked utterly out of place, not to mention pathetic. The woman was extremely apologetic as she shook her head at us.

“I’m afraid not, M’lord. We’ve been completely full since the battle, and tonight’s even worse because of the rain.”

As she said it, several of my men stood from their seats at the tables. They all looked at me eagerly, though they gripped at their swords belts to try and appear natural. They instantly began to offer their rooms, and I was somewhat overwhelmed—not to mention surprised—by it.

“Lady (Y/N), please, take my room. It would be an honor.”

“No, my lady. Please, take mine.”

“Know that you are welcome to take mine, Lady Tyrell.”

They all stared at me, and more men began to stand up, but I quickly put my hands out to assure them it was fine. Despite that, there were even more offers, and each one of them sounded so sincere it made my heart swell. I had always gotten along well with my men, but I had never expected this kind of utter devotion. 

“Gentlemen… gentlemen, please, I- I thank you all for your kindness, but I would not want to displace more than one of you. As it is I feel bad to- to ask this of you,” I said, watching as they instantly quieted down upon hearing my voice. They all stared at me for a moment more, and then looked at each other in an attempt to figure out who would give me their room. I could sense that each man wanted to do the honor, and I spoke up to prevent any arguments or—gods forbid—fights. 

“I will choose which room, gentlemen. There’s no need- n-no need to argue.” I shivered, and felt Lord Tywin’s hand at my back. I did not look up at him, for the soldiers might’ve gotten the wrong message if I had. In all honesty, another reason to only take one room was so that I could enjoy watching Lord Tywin sleep on the floor. Perhaps it was cruel of me, but I was still quite upset with him.

“Lady (Y/N), if I may… you- you saved my life at the Battle of Blackwater. One of Stannis’ men had disarmed me and was about to kill me, but you rode past and sliced the man’s head clean off. Please, take my room. Allow me to repay that debt,” one man said, suddenly standing from his seat and giving me a somewhat pleading look. I softened, instantly nodding at him.

“I will take your room, but please know that there is no debt to be paid. You are all my bannermen, and as your leader, it is my job to protect your lives as much as I possibly can. I am grateful for the opportunity to do such a thing… I am grateful for the opportunity to march with such fine men,” I replied, at first speaking to that one man in specific and then addressing the entire room. All the Tyrell soldiers there began to bang their fists down on the table, and I could not help but smile, even in my present state.

The young man who had offered me his room instantly approached, gesturing for me to follow him. I gave Lord Tywin a brief look to note that he was coming with me, and then started after the soldier. He led the two of us to his quarters, and I realized after a moment that the woman from before was also following us. I presumed that she wanted to change out the linens of the bed. 

“Here it is, m’lady. I haven’t slept in here yet, I was just recently reassigned to a job in King’s Landing. Arrived at this inn from another one early this morning,” the soldier explained, opening the door and showing me in. I noted that the fire was already going, and I was relieved to feel how warm the room was. 

“Thank you so much, young man. Know that I appreciate this quite a lot.”

“Of course, m’lady.”

He gave me a quick bow, and as he walked off I realized that Lord Tywin was speaking with the innkeeper about something. I didn’t pay it much mind, though, for I was instantly rushing to sit by the fire. There was thankfully a fur rug in front of it, and I kneeled there while holding my hands out. I only looked back at the sound of the door closing.

“The innkeeper is going to bring warm water so that you can bathe, along with towels. I also asked if she could-” Lord Tywin was going on about whatever they’d discussed, and he’d been staring out the window until he looked at me. He had looked at the window again, but did a distinct double take as he paused. His eyebrows furrowed, and he instantly came over and kneeled beside me. I raised my eyebrows at him, wondering what in the seven hells he was doing as he observed my face.

“Have you been crying?” he muttered, slowly reaching out and cupping my cheek. My lips parted in a moment of realization, and I faltered for a moment, attempting to look down so I would not have to meet his piercing gaze. I knew then that he must’ve noticed the red around my eyes, or perhaps even in my eyes. I hadn’t even looked in a mirror, but I had cried quite a lot, so it didn’t surprise me. 

He took my silence as an answer, and when he lifted my chin so that I would face him again, I could tell that Lord Tywin was deeply upset by this. There was sheer guilt on his face, for he certainly understood that he was the cause of my tears. To me, it was simply embarrassing.

“What- What did you ask her?” I questioned, trying to make Lord Tywin revert back to his previous topic as his hand fell from my face.

“Who?”

“The Innkeeper, you said you asked her something.”

“Ah, yes. She’s going to look and see if she has any fresh clothes that might fit you. Something you would be able to sleep in,” he noted, recalling what he had meant to say when I clarified for him. I simply nodded, turning my head to look at the fire again.

I did not want to speak to—or think about—Lord Tywin, and I was grateful when he got up from the floor and went to towel his wet hair. I could’ve done the same, but if I was going to bathe in a few minutes there was no point in it. The warm bath would be exactly what I needed, I felt quite confident. I might also ask one of the maids for something to eat, as it was getting dark outside and I was growing hungry.

A sudden knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts, and when Lord Tywin uttered a ‘come in’, I saw several maids pour into the room with steaming water. I sighed out with relief instantly, especially as I watched them pour it into the metal tub. One of them laid out towels, and as I got up from the floor two more of them came over to me and removed my cloak. 

As they began to undo my dress, Lord Tywin took it as his sign to leave the room. Once he’d shut the door, the women stripped me naked and helped me into the warm bath. I might’ve been self conscious if not so eager to get in.

“You’re shivering, m’lady. Dip your hair, that’ll help,” one of them said sweetly, helping pour some of the water over my head as I lowered myself in completely. The bath might’ve been too hot in any other scenario, but right now it felt delightful. I sighed out as I allowed it to warm me, and my eyes shut with relaxation. The water went up to just below my collarbone, though much to my disappointment one of the maids asked me to sit up a bit so she could wash my hair. 

I did as she asked, and as she began sorting through her soaps she noted to the other maids that they could leave. They nodded at her and promptly did so, and I watched as they opened the door and stepped out. 

During those brief few seconds, however, I saw Lord Tywin standing out in the hallway. He instantly noticed me, and our eyes met. Both of us seemed to freeze, unable to do anything but stare at each other. I could feel the heat rushing to my cheeks, because even if I was covered by the water, I was quite obviously still naked and bathing. 

Lord Tywin’s lips parted, and as he blinked his eyes involuntarily wandered a bit. He instantly looked away after doing this, and I was certain he felt embarrassed. I looked away as well, and as the door shut my entire face was on fire.

He had obviously not intended to look, and I was not upset whatsoever because I understood that. It is always somewhat off putting to catch another person nude, and even if you don’t mean to look it’s quite hard not to.

Still, there had been a sort of tension between us at that moment and I found myself struggling to calm down, even as the maid did wash my hair. Something about the way Lord Tywin had looked at me was so… intimate. 

The memory played in my head as I continued to bathe, and eventually the two other maids came back in with fresh clothes. When I looked in the hall this time, Lord Tywin was not standing there, much to my relief. I don’t know how I would’ve handled making eye contact with him again.

“I’m sorry about the clothes, m’lady, it was all we could find,” one of the girls apologized, placing the garments down on a small dresser and then walking over to the fire. I realized then that they’d laid out my undergarments to dry there, and it certainly seemed to have done the trick. The same could not be said for my dress, but that had naturally gotten much more wet than anything else.

One of the other maids reached for the towels, opening one of them and holding it up in front of the tub. As I stood from the water, she wrapped it around me and helped me step out. I attempted to tell them that I could dress myself, but they were extremely efficient and helped me into the clothes before I could protest.

The garments they had found for me were ill fitting, but that was to be expected. The pants were relatively fine, just a bit baggier than usual, but the shirt they had found was absolutely massive. I wanted to laugh as I considered that a man the size of the Hound, or perhaps even the Baratheon soldier, could wear such a garment. 

The women tied the front of the shirt as much as they could, but the cut down in the neckline still revealed quite a lot due to its size. I assured them it was alright, I did not mind. In all honesty, I’d probably worn more revealing dresses.

They sat me down after that, toweling my hair quite rigorously and brushing it out once it was mostly dry. There was a knock at the door after they’d finished, and when one of them went to open it, Lord Tywin entered with two plates. 

I couldn’t help but smile at him, going over to the small table in the corner of the room as he set our food down there. He pulled my chair for me, and I muttered a soft ‘thank you’ as I sat down.

“I figured you would be hungry,” he said, sitting across from me and briefly glancing at the maids as they cleaned everything up and left us. I nodded, eagerly dipping some bread into the stew and then shoving it into my mouth. The last thing I was going to do right now was eat ‘properly’. 

“It’s been quite a long day,” I said after swallowing, simultaneously reaching for the pitcher and pouring myself some wine. The Lord Hand gave me a subtle smile, somewhat amused by just how fast I was eating.

“Well, don’t go so quickly that you make yourself vomit.”

I only nodded at him, intending to ignore his advice but suddenly realizing that he was right. With a sigh, I forced myself to slow down a bit and chew everything entirely. When I glanced up from my plate, Lord Tywin looked apprehensive, and I knew he wanted to say something. 

“What is it?” I questioned while drinking more wine. I found that it warmed me rather pleasantly. 

“I- I apologize. I did not mean to look, I was simply surprised to see you when the door opened,” he said, to which my face flushed as I shook my head.

“There is no need to apologize, Lord Tywin. We were both caught off guard, and you did not mean to… well, I took no offense,” I assured him, setting my utensils down for a moment so I would not stuff my face as I said it. Lord Tywin merely nodded, taking a few bites from his own plate and looking down. Despite that, I could see the red in his cheeks. It nearly made me laugh, for I couldn’t recall having ever seen him blush before.

“Your bannermen, they adore you,” he said after a moment, only lifting his eyes. Though I shrugged it off, I could not keep myself from smiling. Lord Tywin, however, was not satisfied leaving it at that. “Nearly every Tyrell soldier here was willing to give up his room for you, I hope you understand the gravity of them doing such a thing. It’s an even further testament to your good leadership.”

“I will admit that it was a nice feeling. It was rewarding, I suppose, to know that they respect me. I’m aware that eventually, once my father marries me off, he’ll take the opportunity to put Loras in charge, but… for now, those are my men. To have that, to be able to say that I lead an army, it’s so- it’s such a good feeling.” I sighed, dipping another piece of bread. Lord Tywin contemplated what I’d said for a minute. 

“You’re certain that your father intends to do that?”

“Quite. He’s not exactly a subtle man. It’s exactly why I’m so opposed to marriage. I can stomach the idea of being stuck with some insufferable man for the rest of my life, and perhaps survive being filled with his babes and forced to give him sons, but I truly cannot stand knowing that the thing I hold most dear will be taken from me. Loras will do fine but… but he does not care as I do,” I ranted, leaning back in my chair and lazily moving my fork around in the stew. When I looked up at Lord Tywin, his eyes were dark. It was a look I’d never seen on his face before, and there was something quite chilling about it. It made me sit up a bit straighter.

“Your father would be a fool to do such a thing. Your brother would not have had the foresight to join the Greyjoy Rebellion, nor would he have had the ability to remain calm when faced with the possibility of wildfire. I have criticized you in the past, Lady (Y/N), but you are perhaps the most competent military commander I have ever known,” he said genuinely, keeping his eyes focused on mine as he spoke. Lord Tywin’s use of eye contact was fascinating to me, for he would look away if disinterested, annoyed, or for some other reason uncomfortable, but would always look straight at a person when he was serious about the subject.

“Well, perhaps you ought to try mentioning it to my father,” I noted with a sigh, finishing the last of my stew and setting down my utensils. The Lord Hand only stared at me, and after a moment I got up to go sit by the fire again. I let my feet dig into the fur rug, and I was secretly grateful that my shoes were still wet, as this was quite nice. 

“The shirt they gave you is far too big,” Lord Tywin observed as he rose from the table, reaching at his leather coat and undoing the clips at the front. I watched him entirely remove the thing, and I was surprised to find that neither his pants nor shirt had gotten wet. I supposed the tall leather boots and leather coat had protected him from it. 

“Yes, well, I’ve got to make due. It’s what I get for going out in the rain without a cloak.” I sighed out, pulling my knees to my chest and resting my chin on them. I was constantly having to roll up the sleeves of the damned thing, and it truthfully was quite annoying. Had Lord Tywin not been here, I might’ve just forgone a shirt entirely. 

“My shirt is smaller than that one. It would be easier for you to wear,” he said suddenly, making me turn my head toward him and raise an eyebrow. Was he offering me his shirt? 

I looked him over, and after a moment I realized that his garment actually was smaller than the one I was wearing, and I figured it wouldn’t hurt to have something that wasn’t quite as ill fitting. 

“Would you- Would you mind?” I questioned softly, to which he shook his head. We both stared at each other for a moment, attempting to figure out how we were going to exchange our attire. “I suppose you should just- well, I don’t know, perhaps you give me your shirt and then turn around while I change?” 

Lord Tywin nodded awkwardly, reaching at the fabric while I stood from the rug and waited for him to remove his clothing. Gods, what a day it had become. 

I watched him grip the shirt, carefully pulling it over his head. I did not want to stare, or even look really, but I found myself observing his chest as he took the thing off. For a man his age, he was in quite good shape. Of course, there was still some loose skin, most notably at the bottom of his stomach, but nearly everything else looked quite firm. 

My lips were subconsciously parting at the sight of his skin, and my face heated with embarrassment as Lord Tywin caught me staring. I quickly looked away, and was quite grateful that he did not tease as he handed me the garment. 

Once I took it from him, he licked his lips somewhat anxiously and went to go sit down in the chair that faced away from me. I watched him for a few seconds—also taking note of his back, though I would not admit it—and then turned around to change my shirt. 

I was able to pull off the larger garment rather quickly, but as I brought Lord Tywin’s up to my head to put it on, his familiar scent hit my nose. My breath caught in my throat, and I looked over my shoulder to check that he was still focused on the wall. When I confirmed that he was, I quietly brought the fabric to my nose and inhaled. Gods, it was so strange of me to do, but I couldn’t help it. The scent of him was utterly addicting, and I was quite pleased to find that I could still smell him as I put the shirt on.

I took one more deep breath, and then finally went over to Lord Tywin and handed him the bigger one. He gave me a nod, slipping it on and huffing to himself at just how obnoxiously large it was. I was unable to resist a small smile, and I lingered beside him for a moment more before wandering over to the bed and sitting on the edge of it. 

I reflected that it was quite late, and then gazed at Lord Tywin rather sentimentally. Though I ought to have been angry at him, I was more hurt than anything. He had already apologized, but I still felt that I had left too much unsaid. I cleared my throat softly, and he glanced over at me from his seat. His lips parted when he saw the look on face.

“I- I, uhm… well, you can sleep in the bed with me tonight, Lord Tywin. You needn’t sleep on the rug,” I informed, to which he nodded as a sign of his gratitude. We had not even discussed the sleeping arrangement, but I had already known that he’d intended to give me the bed. It was the sort of thing that Tywin Lannister would do, for even if he was an insufferable cunt from time to time, he was still a gentleman. In his mind, it would be disgraceful to suggest that a lady sleep on the floor instead of him. 

“Thank you, Lady (Y/N),” he said softly, adjusting his seat in the chair to face me more properly. I bit my lip, trying to gather the courage to tell him what I wished to.

“But- But before you do, Tywin… I- I need your solemn oath. I need to know that you… that you intend to actually be my friend—that you won’t be so cold and cruel in front of others again, just as you were today. Though you are not obligated to defend me, it is what I would expect from such a companion, and therefore I am going to ask it of you unless you adamantly believe me to be wrong. And, in that scenario, I do not want you to be offensive about it,” I said evenly, holding his eyes the entire time to exemplify just how serious I was.

Lord Tywin blinked at me for a moment before standing up. Slowly, he approached me and reached out with his hands, lifting mine from my lap and holding them. The warmth of his skin was surprisingly welcome, and my lips parted as I gazed up at him. There was a tender look on his face, and for some reason it made my heart pound. 

“I promise you, (Y/N), that I truly intend to be your friend. I will never disrespect you that way again, and will instead actively do the opposite. In the case that I do disagree with you upon a subject, I vow to behave decently. I simply want you to be happy, and if my friendship brings you joy, then you shall have it,” Lord Tywin said, slowly running his thumbs over my knuckles as he did. His expression alone made me take a shaky breath, and when he freed one of his hands to brush a strand of hair from my face, I felt even more jittery. Gods, perhaps the rain really had made me ill.

“Lord Tywin…”

“No. Just Tywin.”

His voice was just a whisper, and even if I’d wanted to, I felt utterly incapable of looking away from him. His eyes… his blue, blue eyes were holding mine captive. There was something primal between us, some sort of odd tension that would not go away.

“Ty- Tywin…” I said softly, my grip on his hands tightening as I planted my feet onto the wooden floor. I found myself slowly rising from the bed, though there was so little space between us that the back of my legs hit the bed frame. It made me stumble, but the Great Lion’s hands were at my waist, holding me up. I had gripped the front of his shirt. 

“Be careful,” he muttered, letting his palms glide up my sides ever so slowly. I flattened my hands on his chest, swallowing and nodding. His gaze suddenly became overwhelming, and I had to look down. I wanted to kiss him.

Kiss him? Was I utterly insane?

As I looked back up at him, I was sure that I was merely overwhelmed by the fact that we were now friends. To have his wholesome affection was clouding my judgment, I felt certain. That was all.

“I would give you anything in the world, (Y/N), do you know that? Anything at all,” he said suddenly, moving one of his hands up to my cheek now. I leaned into it subconsciously, for it was truly the size of my face.

“Would you?” I asked, staring up at him in a doe-eyed manner. I didn’t know what was wrong with me, I felt as though I was melting into the floor. He was the only thing keeping me here.

“Yes, I would.”

I smiled at him then, and he smiled back. It was a soft one, and he did not open his mouth, but it was a smile nonetheless. I found myself wrapping my arms around Lord- around Tywin, and resting my head on his chest. 

He pulled me in even further, clutching me to him like some precious thing. I felt his chin resting on the top of my head, and at that moment I was genuinely and completely at peace. Not a thing besides Tywin and I mattered, it seemed. Not when I could hear the sound of his soft breathing and the pounding of his heart.

A sudden flash of lightning came from the window, and we both turned our heads to look at it. The thunder came then, but somehow the sound of the Great Lion’s heartbeat was louder.

“We should sleep, it’s quite late,” Tywin noted after a moment, stepping back from me but letting his hand cup the back of my head. I nodded, yawning as the concept of time came back to me. It had been quite a day, and the thought of sleep did not sound unpleasant at all.

“Wait… wait, just a moment,” I mumbled, remembering something and rushing across the room to where they’d hung my dress to dry. I dug around in it, finding one of the hidden pockets and smiling as I reached inside. I felt the cold metal beneath my fingertips and grabbed his ring, pulling it out. 

When I turned around and presented it to him, I saw the guilt in his eyes. He clearly regretted removing it, though I understood that we had both been rather… well, aggravated. 

“I’m sorry for taking it off. I shouldn’t have,” Tywin apologized as I came back over and reached for his hand. I shook my head.

“You mustn't apologize. It doesn’t matter now. This is all that matters,” I replied, reassuring him as I slid the ring onto his finger. He flexed his hand and made a noise of contentment, almost as if he enjoyed feeling the weight there again. I smiled at the sight, also glad that he was wearing it. 

I gave his hand a quick squeeze before going over to the bed, and I was still smiling as I got in. Tywin did the same, though on the opposite side. It was thankfully quite spacious, so at least there was that even if we did have to share.

The mattress rocked a bit as we both settled in, and I watched him lean over to blow out the candle on his nightstand. I blew out mine as well, and the only light left in the room was coming from the fireplace. It was warm and comfortable—easy to fall asleep with.

“Goodnight, (Y/N).”

I turned my head, admiring Tywin and giving him a gentle smile, for he appeared quite peaceful.

“Goodnight, Tywin.”

He looked at me for a moment and then turned his head, shifting to get comfortable. I turned onto my side and attempted to do the same, but had little success with it. Even despite my exhaustion, I found myself lying awake for quite some time, much to my frustration.

I was quite surprised, however, when I felt the bed shift behind me and then felt Tywin’s chest pressed against my back. When I looked over my shoulder, I realized he was sound asleep and had merely turned over naturally. I softened, especially because his arm had accidentally come over me too. In a sense, he was almost cuddling me, and I did not really mind it. 

For just a moment, though, the feeling had made me panic. Memories of what had happened to me years ago came flooding back, and my stomach had dropped. But when I’d turned over and remembered that it was merely Tywin, I had relaxed. Somehow, a touch that would’ve made me break down with anyone else was pleasant coming from him. 

I watched him sleep now, noting that his eyes were squeezing as he did. I wondered if he was dreaming. 

“Joanna…”

It was only a mumble, but I had heard him say it quite clearly. My heart instantly shattered, for I understood that in his sleep he did not know. All he knew was the feeling of weight beside him in bed—the feeling of a woman’s warmth.

I was filled with sympathy, for I wished that I could give this man the support and love he so missed. I wished that I could give him the love and care of a wife, for all I could do was give him that of a friend’s. 

I decided to let him have this familiar feeling for a bit longer, and I carefully placed my hand on top of his, moving it closer to me and wrapping my arms around it. Even after the day we’d had, I could not deny Tywin Lannister this comfort, for he was my friend. What else was I to do than grant him this?

I was certain that when he woke he would wonder how we had ended up in such a position, but I did not care. For now, in his sleep, he was far in the past, and I prayed that he was happy. Even if I was not Joanna Lannister, I wished to soothe the Great Lion in any way that I could. And, as I drifted off, there was one fact that I certainly could not deny: to be held this way by Tywin Lannister was just as comforting for me as it was for him.

TAGLIST:

@cheyxfu @lemonscoffee @groovy-lady 

@ladysindar @vesta-ro @exo-nova @paola-carter

@prettykinkysoul 

@fullmoonshadowwrites @kishie8 

@the-desilittle-bird @dianilaws @girlonfireice 

@muscari-fae @lostgirllulu 

@abigfanofgameofthrones @smalltownbigheart 

@frombloodandflesh @supernaturalismyreligion666

@thanyatargaryen @rey26 @hexandale @pkawaiidesu5394 @aimsro @gbatesx @lockleysgrl

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

half past five high - interlude: sexcapades

pairing: supermodel!Mingyu x foreigner!girls

genre: smut. minors dni.

warnings: rough sex, unprotected sex (stay safe), manhandling, mingyu has a god complex, blowjob, deepthroating, creampie, threesome, degradation, alcohol consumption, body worship, hair pulling, daddy kink, objectification, squirting

word count: 1.6k

summary: bad decisions lead to more bad decisions and actions.

series taglist: @delicatewerewolfsoul @aliceu @husbandhoshi @wonwoosthetic @boowanie @billboard-singer @gaebestie  @aurumness​ @dkakapizzaboy

unable to tag: @chwebychew @jaeyux

© multi-kpop-fanfics, 2023. no reposting or translating without permission.

“Here we are, ladies - make yourselves comfortable” Mingyu opens the door to his apartment, letting the girls go in the space, gasping in awe and giggling when they plop on the velvet couch, touching the soft material.

“Wow, your apartment is so cool!”

“What did you expect, Mia? He’s a supermodel, he’s obviously loaded with money” the blonde girl giggles, looking at Mingyu with naughty eyes.

“I see you’re aware of who I am - and trust me, money isn’t the only thing I’m loaded with” he slides his coat and red blazer, staying only in his vest and dress pants. 

He makes his way to the kitchen, opening the glamorous cellar where he keeps all of his alcohol, pulling out three glasses and a bottle of Bourbon, setting them down on the table in front of the couch, filling them halfway with the golden liquid.

“Cheers, ladies” he raises his glasses and they share the enthusiasm, clinking their glasses together, taking a few sips of the alcohol.

“Sheesh, that’s so tasty” the brunette slurs with a laugh and she grabs the bottle from the neck, trying to read the label, “Too bad I can’t read what it says haha!”

“Oh God, you’re so wasted, Mia”

“You’re no better, Kay!” 

“Ladies, please don’t fight” Mingyu sits between them, bringing them close to his body, “We can do so many fun things instead, right?” he slowly manspreads, a wicked smirk spreading on his lips when he sees Mia’s eyes fixated on his lap.

“Something caught your eye, love?”

“Yeah, your cock” she giggles drunkenly, climbing on his lap and taking off her dress, her mesh lingerie barely covering her breasts and pussy, snatching the bottle from her friend’s hands, trying to dance on Mingyu’s lap.

“Slay, girl!” Kay hollers, taking out her phone to record the scene, laughing sneakily when she notices his hands holding her friend’s waist.

Mingyu leans back, his hands caressing her skin, groaning when she grazes his bulge, his judgment getting clouded with each passing second. 

“Babe I need you to get off my lap, right now” he taps her ass, snatching the Bourbon bottle out of her hands.

“But whyyyyy” she whines in protest.

“Because I don’t want to bust a nut in these pants, love” 

"And where do you wanna bust it, big boy?" Kay starts unbuttoning his vest, her lithe hands sliding it off his shoulders and caresses his chest, her dress long discarded.

"Depends on whether you're clean, baby"

"We're both clean and on the pill, Mingyu!" the brunette slurs, putting down the Bourbon bottle and sliding down on her knees in front of Mingyu's spread thighs, fumbling with his pants.

"Well then, that changes a lot" he grabs the blonde's face, kissing her greedily and sliding his tongue down her throat, almost making her gag.

The brunette drags the red pants down to Mingyu's ankles, pressing open mouthed kisses over his clothed cock, fingertips slyly tugging the waistband of his Celine boxers.

"Fuck, just take his cock out already!" Kay breaks the kiss and gets next to her friend, ripping off his boxers and gasping when they see his sheer size, their hands already playing with his shaft and balls.

"Greedy little things" Mingyu laughs condescendingly, laying back with his arms resting on the back cushions, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he watches the girls enjoy themselves, moaning and whimpering between his legs.

Their plush lips are glued on his cock, tongues coating the entire shaft with their spit, the blonde’s mouth sucking the tip slowly, while the brunette plays with his balls, licking and sucking them greedily, none of them breaking eye contact with Mingyu.

“Come on, you can do better than that, dolls” he clicks his tongue in annoyance and that seems to spur the girls on, as they speed up their movements, the noises coming out of their mouth louder, sloppier and needier, their lips now touching as they slide them up and down his cock, their wet muscles making a mess all over the thick shaft.

He watches over them, playing with his cock, holding it with their tiny hands and slapping it on their tongues and cheeks, like they’re serving their sanity and self respect on a silver platter for him.

They are worshipping him like a God - and Mingyu is thriving in it.

“Mmm fuck, your cock is sooo fucking big” Mia moans and pushes her mouth down his cock, deepthroating him and bobbing her head rhythmically, until Kay pulls her friend’s head by her hair, her turn to deepthroat Mingyu.

“Enough fighting, ladies” he pulls Kay off his cock, “I want you both on the couch, ass up in the air and hands on the back cushions” he gets up, kicking away the pooled pants and boxers away, drinking the rest of his Bourbon and drunkenly throwing the glass away, crashing down on the floor into tiny pieces.

“Oops”

“Daddy is angry” Mia giggles, climbing on the couch. 

“Daddy will get angry if you don’t do as I say in the next three seconds” Mingyu stares down at them and they both scramble to bend their asses up in the air, panties digging in their flesh.

“Fuckin’ whores” he scoffs, ripping their thongs away, the thin fabric snapping against their skins, making them whine and yelp.

“Please fuck me like a whore, Daddy” Kay shakes her ass in an attempt to entice Mingyu, but she only gets two harsh slaps on her ass, his hand roughly gripping her hair.

“I don’t remember giving you permission to talk” he presses his lips on the shell of her ear, “Now stay down like a good little bitch and watch me fuck your friend to oblivion” he orders her and the girl stays there, jealousy invading her head.

Mingyu positions himself behind Mia, running his hands over her ass, lining his cock with her pussy before sliding in with one swift thrust, a loud moan echoing in the luxurious apartment.

He sets a brutal pace, one hand gripping her waist and the other buried in her hair, pulling it back and using it as leverage to fuck her cunt without mercy.

"Fuck, you're so- big!" the brunette gasps, her manicured nails digging into the velvet cushions of the couch, eyes rolling in the back of her skull from the repeated ramming of her sweet spot.

"I know, baby, I know - Fuck, such a tight lil' cunt you have, huh?" he groans, side-eyeing the blonde girl, who is watching with lust-blown eyes, her hand between her legs, rubbing her pussy in an attempt to feel some kind of stimulation.

"Look at your friend-" Mingyu turns Mia's head towards Kay, forcing her to look at the blonde girl, "She's so desperate for my cock that she's trying to rub herself while she watches us party together" he chuckles like the devil, his gaze piercing the other girl.

"Do you think she deserves to get fucked once I'm done with you? Do you think she deserves my cock?"

"Yes, Daddy, please!" Mia whines, "Please fuck us full, we're such good girls for you" she draws out the last sentence, her body growing more sensitive.

"Hmm, since you insist" he hums, speeding up his thrusts and snaking his hand in front of her legs to rub the rough pads on his fingers on her clit to push closer to the edge.

"Shitshitshit I'm cumming Gyu, I'm cumming!" she screams and falls limp on the couch as she topples off the edge, Mingyu cumming right after with a sharp jut of his hips, his thick seed painting the walls of her cunt white.

He pulls out of her without hesitation, leaving her empty all of a sudden, hastily switching to Kay and slamming his cock in her cunt, knocking her breathless on the lavish couch.

"Fuuuuck….." the blonde girl cries out, thighs already starting to shake.

"Baby you nearly came from this? I haven't even started fucking you" Mingyu mocks her and begins ramming his dick in her pussy, harder than he did to the brunette, his large hands grabbing her small waist with an iron grip.

Her cut-off moans and short breaths, paired with her soaked cunt are enough to send him into a spiral, thrusting into her tight heat as if he’s a rabid dog gone into heat. 

“Such a tight little wet hole, fuck, perfect to blow my load in it” Mingyu moans, pulling her ass back and slamming it on his pelvis with full force, sweat starting to form on his chiseled body. 

Kay’s noises almost remind him of the noises you make when he fucks you to oblivion and you scream his name, letting him use your body for his own pleasure. Almost.

Mingyu gets mad at himself for letting his mind slip to you again, after doing his best to not think about you after the fiasco at the exhibition. He ends up digging his nails into the girl’s skin, leaving small crescent moons in their way.

“G-Gyu, you’re too rough, s-slow down” the girl begs, her voice barely audible.

“Just a little more” he groans, before slamming his cock in her cunt with one last strong thrust, flooding her with his cum, forcing her orgasm to crash upon her, squirting without warning all over the velvet couch.

“Shit, you made a mess” he scoffs while pulling out of her pussy, his load dripping on the cushions and the floor.

“Me? Or…fuck, you?” Kay sighs, collapsing next to her friend, completely spent and weak.

Mingyu gets up, standing on his full height, towering over the now completely wrecked girls, his cum seeping out of them slowly in pearly globs.

Just for tonight, he truly feels like a God.

[ticklishbutler]

You have such a lovely laugh.

Person who requested: @pixiedrrmgirl What have they requested? Earl Gray (Black Butler Public school arc) and Vanilla Ice cream (Ler!Sebastian x reader)(platonic) Oh why certainly young lady/lord.. I will have this prompt out for just how you like it <3 (Read under the cut)

You were walking down the hallway of Weston college, heading to your next class, it has been really stressful this week since it was the midterms. You were hastily running through the halls hoping to god that you weren't late for this class. You've been working up to get your grades the best as you can and complete these midterms. Making you late would just be a huge inconvenience. As well as having to shine the Prefect's shoes...

As you ran by classrooms you're trail suddenly came into a halt, Smacking into someone and falling back. onto the pavement. Dropping your bookbag, your hat and any other things that you had on you. As the person turned around to see you, seeing you fallen on the floor.

" Oh my.. Are you alright? It seems you had quite the fall. "

As you regained your sense and seeing someone crouched over with a gloved hand just a few inches away from your face, looking up to see none other then Master Michaelis himself. Ah crap.. you slammed right into his back now making you even more late then before.

" I am alright.. Thank you for your help Master Michaelis, but I must hurry I don't want to be late.. "

You quickly packed up all your stuff and got any other necessary things and dashed off from Master Michaelis's help.

As you huffed and puffed making in and setting your stuff down, finally getting the rest you wanted pulling out a textbook. Clayton then suddenly burst open the door and shouted "Line up!!" and the boys then running to line up. You quickly ran to line up but no luck.. You were the last one in line.

Clayton then walked over to you, reaching in his pocket and pulling out a handkerchief and holding it up for you to take. And saying to you,

" Take this and shine the prefect's shoes. Be hasty now.. We have midterms to complete. "

You sighed as you walked out of the room to go shine the shoe's one by one taking a very long and painful process. You're legs were already hurting from running. Now you have to do this and waste more class time.. Great.

Walking back to the classroom and opening the door, you see Master Michaelis, watching the boy's taking their mid terms. He looked up to see you, he gave you a calm smile and said.

" Welcome back, (Your Name) You came back quickly. I am glad, your test should be waiting on your desk. You have exactly an hour to complete this before we go to lunch. "

You closed the door behind you, nodding slightly at the words that came from Master Michaelis's mouth. Settling yourself down in your seat and taking out a pen and looking over the questions for the next hour and writing down answers.

Time felt as if it was going slower... slower.. and slower.. As you were closer to finishing the test, it was honestly tiring even more. You were glad the weekend was coming up soon so you wouldn't have to do this much back breaking work, and studying. You then placed the paper face down, and the Bell rang.

Absolutely perfect timing, You started to pack your stuff up and Master Michaelis was walking over to the desks and collecting the paper's telling the boys that he will see them after lunch.

" Wait. (Your name) I need to talk to you before you leave class. "

As you looked over at Master Michaelis, he was placing the paper's on his desk.

" Do you need something from me, Master Michaelis..? "

You looked at him, he turned around and walked up to you face to face.

" (Your name). You seemed very stressed lately, I feel like you were overburdening yourself, working yourself up to get the highest marks out of the whole Sapphire owl house. "

Master Michaelis did not seem to sugar coat anything in his words. He truly was concerned.

" Oh uhm.. Thank you Master Michaelis. It means a lot to me.!! Really.. "

You replied to him as he placed a hand on your back, rubbing it slightly and comforting way.

" Could you possibly spare some time after the school day? And meet me in my office. I want to try and make you feel better after all your hard work should really be rewarded. "

What could this possibly mean? Why would HE want to see you after class. Was it good? was it bad? who knows! As you thought about it for a few minutes and gave him an answer.

" Yes I will spare some time to meet you after the school day. "

Master Michaelis then smiled and stopped rubbing your back. Dismissing you and letting you leave to go to lunch.

(Timeskip)

You were walking to Master Michaelis's office after he was helping another boy out. The boy soon bowed and thanked Master Michaelis and left for the night.

"(Your name). You actually came, I'm surprised. Have a seat."

You sat down in the seat infront of you, Master Michaelis then stood up and was standing right behind you. You felt a sweat drop from your forehead of him being so close, it felt so unreal and odd. But you also felt another feeling around him, almost comforting. You knew he did this for just his job but you felt reassurance whenever Master Michaelis was around talking to you.

"Oh my.. You are visibly tense in your back area.. Have you been slouching your back while studying?"

He caught you off guard with that question. Truth to be told yes, you did have bad back posture. From grueling late night study sessions.

"Yes I have Master Michaelis.."

You said, he then suddenly started massaging your shoulders, and around your neck.

"Calm now.. You seemed troubled. A massage will help you calm down. Working your back muscles to the single fiber of your back is not healthy for a student like you.."

Oh God that massage felt nice.. He worked his fingers like magic. But you also felt another reaction coming out of you, like giggling, and tingling. You hid these giggles as Master Michaelis started to massage down your back to your ribs. As you couldn't hold it in for the time being and let out a snicker.

"Oh my?~ was that a laugh I heard coming from that mouth of yours?~"

Master Michaelis teased, crap you dug your grave on this one. As you tried to deny it.

"N-No! I just make weird noises when I get massaged like that.."

Master Michaelis chuckled.

"Oh really.?~ then you wouldn't get all flustered if I did this?~"

He then started wiggling his fingers dangerously close to your belly, as your face blushed. He took it as a sign that he was getting a reaction from you, wiggling your fingers closer.. And closer..

"Oh.. ~ What a cute little student we have here.. ~ you seem all sad.. I want to wipe a little smile on that gloomy face of yours.. Tickle allll the stress from you..~ top to bottom..~"

You were trapped in the office and had to suffer the fate of getting tickled by your own house master. As you found yourself on the floor and resting between Master Michaelis's legs. He gave you that evil smirk.

"Oh ho ho... ~ what a cute little student I have in my arms right here hm..~ They are so sad.. Maybe you need some reassurance from the one and only tickle house monster..~"

He was really good at getting into this as you felt him lifting up your shirt to reveal your stomach to him as he was rubbing your stomach making you squirm and shiver.

" such a soft tummy we have here.. All waiting for me to just tick-tick-tickle..~ all the sadness away..~"

Master Michaelis then started tracing your stomach and around your belly button, teasing you as well. You felt his hands then started scribbling all over your stomach without a warning.

"Tickle tickle tickle..~ kitchy kitchy koo…~"

You squealed out laughing from his scribbling and tracing your tummy.

"NAHAHAHA!!- MAHAHSTER MICHAHAHAELIS!!-"

Master Michaelis was smirking even more as he teased you even more..

"Oh..~ how the tickle house monster loves it when you laugh for him..~ it makes him feel so happy when you are happy~"

Master Michaelis then slowly traced your sides up and down, up and down a repeating motion.

"Soo ticklish.. ~ I feel like I could just go on for hours..~"

You felt him then move you to lay on your stomach across his lap, he took off your tailcoat and your ribs were vulnerable. Almost like a piano.

"Let's count how many ribs that are as ticklish. Before you laugh..~ if you laugh before I finish.. I have to start all over... You don't want that do you.?~"

You were still a giggly mess as you felt the cold metal of his pectoral cross on your back. As his gloved fingers tapped on your back. Leaving you giggling slightly and still blushing. He then began the counting..

"One..~"

He traced his fingers on your lower back. You yelped and trying to hold in your laughter.

"Two..~"

It was starting to get even worse as he continued on and one barely holding in your laughter.

"Three..~"

" Four..~"

"Five..~ The Tickle house monster is sad..~ where is that lovely laugh you had earlier..~"

You were still holding in your laugh, as you felt TWO gloved hands started tracing your back and poking slightly. You couldn't hold it in any longer.

"HAHAHAHA!!! STAHAHAP!! IHIHIHIT TIHIHIHCKLES!!"

You were laughing and squirming as he continued poking at your ribs, also gently massaging at times.

"Oh..~ there is that adorable laughter...~"

Master Michaelis flipped you over again to tickle your belly again, giving absolutely no Mercy.

"GAHAHAHAHA!!! MAHAHASTER MICHAHAHAELIS!!! IHIHITS TOO MUCH!!"

"Oh..?~ too much? Would you considered this too much..?~"

He then leaned down and blew a raspberry right on your belly button. Making you squeal with laughter. Continuing this process, over and over..

"There is that lovely laugh.. ~ The tickle monster was still hungry for a biiitt.. More..~"

Master Michaelis then started making fake noming sounds giving gentle nibbles and raspberries on your belly. While also tickling your sides.

"HAHAHAHA!!! NOHOHOO!! I'M NOHOHOT FOHOHOHOOD!!"

"Your quite the delicious treat for the Tickle House Monster though..~"

(Time skip again ’:3)

You were soon huffing and puffing and sprawled out on Master Michaelis's lap. He patted your head slightly, combing through your hair bit by bit.

" I hope for sure that I would of helped you relax and smile (Your name.) I maybe would of want to try it again another time..~"

Master Michaelis smirked and threateningly wiggled his fingers which made you jump up and fix your uniform. As he chuckled seeing you all blushed up and giddy.

" Thank you Master Michaelis hehehe.. That made me feel a lot better..!!"

Master Michaelis smiled at you as he got up and off the floor to sit back in his seat in a professional manner.

"You are excused (Your name.)"

You nodded and took your leave from Master Michaelis's office and walked by other students with a blushing face.

|| AHHH!!! Thank you so much for requesting btw!! I've been rotting my brain out trying to get ideas and I saw this ask and I was so excited ty my lady/Lord!! - Sebastian/Storytellers ||

[aidanchaser]

ive had kind of a bummer week so i started a new project to get some creative hits before going back to work on longterm projects. here's a snippet of the 1920s AU i've been playing with~

It wasn’t snowing, though it certainly felt cold enough to. Marinette pulled her collar closed against her throat and cheeks, keeping herself as snug as she could. She had some privacy in the dark alley that guarded the back entrance of the Lucky Lady, but the click of her lighter must have attracted attention from the street. She saw the white suit jacket and vest that was becoming painfully familiar approach. Her mask was still in place, but she did not need him getting too close. She could not risk Adrien Agreste getting a decent look at Ladybug. She stepped back into the shadow of the alley, and he took the hint, coming to a stop when he was at arm’s length from her “Pardon me, mademoiselle,” he said, voice soft enough to wring out Marinette’s heart, “but do you happen to have a light? I seem to have left mine in my coat pocket.” He sounded like the boy who had abandoned her, not the man who had returned. His voice was gentle, uncertain. There was none of the swagger she’d seen in the young man in her shop that morning, nor the cold grin he’d sported when he’d entered the Lady Luck. She took a drag on her cigarette to steel her nerves, then handed him her lighter. She risked a glance at his face as he lit his own cigarette, careful to keep her own face in the darkness. “What happened to your coat?” she asked. “I gave it to a gentleman who looked like he needed it more than I did.” The tip of his cigarette glowed orange, and he returned her lighter to her. His eyes looked warm in this dim light. She tucked her lighter back into her coat. “And what happened to your date?” “I called her a cab. I was hoping to chat with you before returning home.” Marinette could not stop a sneer from crossing her face. She hoped the darkness hid that, too. “What business do you have with me?” “I heard a rumor that if a gentleman is down on his luck, you’re the lady to see.” “I’ve been known to reverse fortunes,” she murmured. “From toppling those on thrones to lifting up those in the gutter. You don’t strike me as a man in a gutter.” He turned his head to blow a lungful of smoke away from her. The street lamp glinted off of his hair, creating a golden halo. “One man’s heaven,” he shrugged, and let the rest of phrase disappear behind a rueful smile.  Everything about it prickled against Marinette’s skin like a bed of needles, but she did not want to waste an opportunity here. Max had told her that they would need more information, so she was going to get it. “What do you want me to do?” “Only to tell you that, if you’re interested in toppling thrones, my father has staked a lot of his reputation and finances into this one sale.” “Mayor Bourgeois is the one selling.” Adrien shrugged and extinguished his cigarette against the wall. “I just balance the books. That’s all I can tell you.” “How do I know you won’t use this for your own gain? You just want me to take down your father so you can take over in his place—is that it?” The self-deprecating smile vanished. He let out a deep breath, and the warm air of his lungs collected in front of him as surely as if he had taken another drag on his cigarette. “Do it right, and there won’t be anything left for me to take over.” He tipped his hat to her. “Thanks for the light.” And he turned back to the street. Marinette waited until he had rounded the corner and was well out of sight before snuffing out her own cigarette and hurrying back inside. She could already hear Max and Nino warning her it was a trap, but she felt recklessness curling inside her chest. She had to know what else was hidden in that art exchange, or it would burn her alive. She had to tear down Gabriel Agreste, and if Adrien came tumbling down with him, well, she wouldn’t complain about that.

[thosefuzzywordfeelings]

Did you get a request for fluffy Baron? Cause if not... May I request something just really cute and fluffy? Like maybe reader and Baron all cosy on his couch (like we see him in the movie) and they are eating ice cream, and drinking soda and just giggling about silly things, and he keeps stealing kisses from you?

hi hi! I did not and i’m so happy you did 🥹 ugh i love baron so much bye.

Cooldown Kisses

“I done watched all of these before, there’s a guy with a funny hat and he takes the kids up the mountain. I don’t know what he does with ‘em up there but -“

He rambled on, ice cream coating the entire lower half of his face as he looked at the tv screen. As he spoke, the cartoon played a rickety old man in a cowboy hat taking a mining cart of wailing children up to the top of a canyon. I’d tuned out a while ago, more fascinated by the man cross-legged on the couch next to me. The curtains were drawn, but there was still a hazy orange glow around the room from the sunset outside, paired with a dim glow of the table lamp.

It had been a long day, I’d been doing voluntary work around town; crocheting with some of the old ladies on the street and keeping them company. On my way to the next residents home, I felt somebody poke my shoulder. Spinning round to see who it was, I saw Baron smiling widely on his bicycle as he held out a small package. “It’s for 5175, know you’re going there next.”

I took the package from him, his hand gripping my wrist and pulling me towards the handlebars. He’d leant over them to kiss me, almost falling off as he put one leg out to balance himself. “That’s better, I can work harder now.” He’d said with a grin as he pedalled away.

It was boiling hot, sweat forming on my brow as the crochet hook kept slipping from everyone’s clammy palms. But I’d made some kind of small crocheted coaster regardless, little lady Pat complimenting me on the needlework. I’d given her a sticky hug before telling her I’d see her tomorrow, desperate to get home to the goofy postal boy I’d only seen for a minute.

Here we were, a junky metal fan doing reverse psychology on the two of us as it blew hot air around the room, sitting on either end of the couch to try and get cool as the sun set. Ice cream was the only suggestion left as we gathered scoops and scoops into bowls, but mine had melted.

“You just wasted a good four dollars o’ strawberry swirl, hon.” Baron said suddenly, drawing me out of the trance I’d had on him. I looked down at the pink soup I’d unintentionally made in my bowl before looking up at him with a smile.

“Could say the same for you, darlin’, you’re wearing about two dollars of vanilla around your face.” His tongue darted out around his mouth, searching for any leftovers. But he was missing tragically. I shuffled over on my knees, sitting back on them next to him on the couch as he looked up at me with his silly big brown eyes.

“Want me to help you save money?” I giggled down at him, stroking his hair away behind his ears. He nodded, his mouth dropping open in that cute, dumbfounded way. Eda coughed a little, drawing both of our attention until she sighed and stopped. Turning back to each other, Baron’s hands gripped my hips, pulling me onto his lap before very quickly pecking my lips and taking me by surprise.

“You done got a pink nose now. Like ice-cream Rudolph.” He mumbled, looking over my face and then back up to my eyes. I giggled at his comment, my thumbs running over his sticky cheeks gently. I pulled his face closer to mine, but just as his eyes fluttered closed I stuck my tongue out, messily licking ice cream from across his chin and nose. He fought me off, chuckling and trying to hide his face from the attack.

“Problem solved, no more wasting that strawberry swirl.” I said proudly, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. Those twinkling eyes looked at me with awe, though I didn’t know what was so entrancing about the blob of strawberry ice cream sitting on the tip of my nose.

With gentle hands, he pulled my face down closer to his before kissing the strawberry ice cream off softly. “See. Don’t have to be so goddamn violent about it.” He grinned, pressing his lips to mine.

“I was not violent. I’m just trying to get cool and save dollars, Baron.” I chuckled against his mouth, as his arms wrapped around my waist. The humidity of the room suddenly didn’t exist, just the taste of strawberry and the feeling of him. Minutes of kisses passed by, before he pulled away and looked me in the eyes.

“Yeah so, now the funny old man pushes the cart back down the mountain but the kids ain’t in there no more. Somethin’ ‘bout the silence used to give me the jeebies.” He spoke out of nowhere. I looked over my shoulder to see exactly what he was describing on the TV, rolling my eyes as I pulled his attention back to the cooldown kisses again.

[weridpersonhelp]

Red Phone [8]

Previus - Next?

master list!

warning: slightly scary, first-time horror writer, stalking, confusion, gramma and spell mistakes, screaming, getting up a horrible hour of night, neurodivergent reader, slow burnish? , x reader, children, puppets, curse langue, music, be ready for cringe!

“Peak a boo! Peak a boo! Who’s that hiding their? Peak a boo! Peak a boo! It’s sissy hiding there!” Jimmy laughs manically, it amazed me at how something so simple could entertain babies. But then again when could play with a pop it or infinity cube for hours, so I can’t judge. Jim claps his hands happily together once again.

“Y/n are you a Jim ready?” Mum asks me, I stand and grab jimmy’s car seat with two hands.

“Yep, want me to put him in?” I ask she just nods spraying her cheap perfume, today we were going into town and shopping. I don’t know why we where going shopping here when at home in the big city their where thousands of places to shop. Placing Jimmy in the car I take my seat next to him in the middle buckling both of our seat belts. Jimmy sucked on his pacifier while I scrolled through TikTok, I hear the car side door open and in pop grandma with a nice coat sitting in the front.

“isn’t dad coming?”

“Oh no honey he’s working on some stuff at the house, do you know what we are doing again?” Grandma asks.

“where going to the second hand shops most likely, I’m going to be spending my money on new tea pots and cups for my collection!”

“aah yes, you always had that umm, interesting fascination with my tea cups and pots. Do you want them?” My grandma question confused me a little, why would she give them away to me?

“I mean yes, but what about your collection?”

“Oh, it’s fine I’m cleaning out my house a little I have too much. You’ll be sharing with your cousins as well! But I’ll let you get first pick.” Grandma whispers the last part I chuckle at her words and like that mum enters the car.

“Alright who’s ready to shop! Till we drop!” Mum starts the car, and like that the shopping day started. I’ll spare you the details but we went to over 15 different shops! I didn’t even know they town had that many second-hand shops!

“Y/n! you take Jimmy while me a gran look around some more!” mum says handing me Jim, before disappearing with grandma with out another word. Jimmy was wailing, crying most likely because he was done with today already and wanted to back to grandma’s. And I couldn’t agree more, I felt over stimulated. My legs where saw I felt the music grown louder with each second, and not to mention Jim’s wailing. I was exhausted and ran out of the store as quickly as possible for some fresh air. I hadn’t noticed until now how a I was holding onto my breath, did I even breath in their? It didn’t matter now, the cold air hit me like a ton of bricks, and slightly calmed my down and it seems like something similar with Jimmy as his crying calmed down a little bit. I rock back a forth for him while we waited, that was until I noticed he was pointing at something. I looked in the window, and their it was. Another Welcome home Vhs tape! But what was one doing here of all places?

“woohuei” My brother says, or tries too. I was a little shocked at first how did he remember his name when he only watched it once? The cover was different, with wally outside painting he faces the viewer with his smirk, Barnaby and Julie laugh, frank trying to catch a butterfly that landed on Eddies hat. And of course home a bit further in the back ground that you can just see it.

“Sissy wooheui!!” I nod my head along, we only watch one episode of the show so far, there was still like 5 left? Would it be worth buying the second tape or would I be wasting money that didn’t need to be wasted? My brother points again this time with a bigger smile, dam it. How could I resist such a cute smile? I walk back into the store and grab the tape walking up to the counter quickly as I could.

“Hi, their, how much was this?” “only a dollar love.” The old lady says I pull the dollar from my pocket and hand it to her she smiles and places it in the draw.

“Would you like a bag with that?”

“no thank you, but could you wrap it in newspaper?” the lady does as I have asked with no question, which I was thankful for. What would I tell her anyway? Oh my grandma just acted weird when we first watched it so I don’t want to possibly harm her by letting her know I bought this!

“Thank you for your purchase have a nice day.” “You too ma’am” I say leaving the store and opening up the car, I place the now newspaper wrapped. I put the boy in and sigh giving him his pacifier, I was just so done with today. It was honestly fun, I like shopping and getting good deals as long as it’ not 15 shops next time.

…

Bonus

“You talked about him, do you ever know what happened to the body?” Liane asks Maggie as they approach the car.

“yes, down by the creek. He seems he wanted to go swimming but drowned. Or that’s what the police said,” Maggie explains the two women get in the car. Liane turns to face her kids but they where both past out, dead asleep.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do with them honestly!”

“Let them rest. you’re a little too hard on Y/n, she’s still a child!”

“I know, Isaac reminds me. It’s just- ugh how do I explain?” she says pinching the bridge of her noise and sighs.

“She just so different from us? I know it’s not easy for neurodivergent people to make friends, but she only has Safa! And I’ve talked to her parents and she going to collage for a business degree while my baby. she, I’m just scared for her. And last night made me more scared! She could have been hurt! And she answers the phone instead! She so much like John! And I don't want her to resent or hate me just like him!"

“That child of yours is strong. Considering what she has been through, and what you have been through! I’m just happy your both here."

...

who is john?

Tag: @quittingfortgebetter @egg1sblog @ice-cream-writes-stuff @thealreadyunsteadyteddynewpaper @narucore

[hi again so I have something to share. I got an idea but not 100% sure on it again so I'm asking you guys!

the poll is here

I didn't put is here beacuse last time I could not change anything and it was very annoying so here have a good one and yeah

[laslow]

[ Cue the Music ] - Dancing’s what tonight’s all about, is it not? Grab a friend or a stranger and get to twirling (or whatever it is the kids call it nowadays).

( clearly it was morgan's first time doing something like this, he wasn't even dressed the part. wearing the same worn coat that he always did, he walked aimlessly about the room looking for a friend. meeting new people was the goal, but... a familiar face first might be him good. with the kind of timing that only inigo could have, his visage peers through the sea of people immediately. not a moment is wasted in closing the distance between the two, a favor in mind.

"inigo! i figured i might see you here tonight, but i wasn't completely sure." of course, morgan had known he would be here. but... that sounded kinda weird. he smiled warmly instead, feigning ignorance, "listen, i need to make a request of you."

"i'm sure you'd rather have a lady on your arm and all, but... maybe you'd be interested in teaching me the steps to a dance i can use? i'm not all that versed in stuff like this." )

"Morgan!" Laslow returns brightly. The surprise and relief of seeing so many familiar faces hasn't yet worn off; he hopes it never does.

(If he closes his eyes, he can pretend they're all celebrating in their Ylissetol. No wars, no bigger responsibilities than showing up on time for lessons.)

An unexpected lump forms in his throat, and he swallows past it, realizing he's missed some of what Morgan has said. "But of course I can teach you a thing or two! The ladies have been, ah, rather unresponsive to my charms so far." Shrugging, he keeps his smile fixed firmly in place. They've come around eventually! Hopefully.

"Come on! A basic waltz is just the thing," Laslow says, glancing out to the ballroom. They dances are mid-dance, and it's not a waltz, either. Not to mention crowded. "Want to go practice in the garden? It's quieter out there."

[slutnali]

tagged by @sweetlikesunflowersandhoney , @buffyathena & @themetaluna ty 💜💜💜

share the premise (as much or as little as you'd like) of the wip that's been haunting you the most recently

share the last line of your latest wip

ctrl + f for any of these words: hand, gold, bed, brown, money, tea, smile, water. if any of those are in your wip, share those sentences too!

no pressure tags: @momsthetic , @hannahlovesdance07 , @so-art-decooo , @sweetestberryofthebunch & @lady-assnali

Honestly, I'm haunted by MANYYYY wips. But currently my sashnetra reunion au, this is sort of a childhood acquaintances/friends to lovers??

Sasha and Anetra grew up in Hawaii [decided on Hawaii with my worstie, @dawningofdrag , since Sasha is from there and Neech has ties there too on his dads side] and it's not that they were super close or best friends growing up, but they did attend the same schools together. By high school when Sasha was figuring herself out and expressing herself more, Anetra was one of the people who'd step in whenever he'd see that the other students were being douchebags to her (and he's one of the first people to see her as the girl she's always been tbh)

They had this sort of.. kinda-unspoken friendship of sorts? Anetra's always been the quiet guy, focused on his studies and taekwondo (& soccer) and Sasha had her own group of friends. After graduating high school they end up spending that summer before college together and sharing their first kiss 😌 but they share it on the last night Sasha is there before she's off to Florida 🥴 Anyways, they lose contact throughout time but reunite at their high school 10 yr reunion. Sasha kept going back and forth on whether or not she wanted to attend but ultimately decides to go in hopes of seeing him there and that's where the fic is supposed to start!!

2. this is from bakernali au, another wip that haunts me constantly and I could go on about that one because im just so passionate about it

Rosé, being the little shit she was, wiggles dust-coated tattooed fingers in her sister's direction before pointing directly at her with a fixed glare, “Behave, Janine.” 

3. these are all gonna come from bakernali au because it's the one with the most writing done lmfao

“She’s got the softest hands I’ve ever had the privilege of touching and always smells good, sweet, just like her personality.”

“What’s your name, goldilocks?”

“You would’ve done all of that rather than calling me on my phone?” Brown eyes playfully narrow in Rosé’s direction with a tilt of her head to the side.

Sure, she could’ve figured it out with some online tutorials but then that’d result in a bunch of trial and error leading to wasting the time she didn’t have and a whole lot of money too.

“She is. Great smile, pretty doe eyes, cares about people. A lot. I’ve had my eye on her for a while.” The more Rosé goes on about mystery girl, the closer she gets to the counter and Denali swears her heart just might fall to the pit of her stomach.

nothing for bed, tea and water !!

[shibyn]

anywhere, with you

toilet bound hanako kun || aoinene || 16k || ao3

Like a crack of thunder, "Yashiro Nene!" jolts Aoi from her thoughts. "What in Heaven's name did you do to your socks?!" Along their line up, most of the girls turn to the offender-- who grimaces, quickly losing the straight-back posture she's meant to have to duck her head in shame.  Aoi can't see the socks in question without bending out of line, but she doesn't have to wait long to get an idea of them: "The violets bloomed this morning!" Yashiro Nene rushes to explain, flustered from the sounds of it. "I really wanted to get a closer look, so I did-- but I remembered what you said last time, when I scratched up my shoes from the shrubs, so I took them off and--" "So you walked in the dirt with just your socks?" Ms. Yako shrieks.  "Yes?" squeaks Nene. 

Eden Academy is an elitist institution that prides itself on being able to streamline young girls into the proper, to-be-seen-and-not-heard ladies of high class society.

When she was told that Yashiro Nene is moving into the empty side of her dorm room, Akane Aoi wasn't expecting for her whole world to turn around.

______________

At ten o'clock sharp, inspection begins.

Ms. Yako, while not cruel, is unyielding and unforgiving. As the instructor designated for uniform inspection, her keen eyes do not miss a single detail. 

Upon stepping in front of Aoi, she does not waste time in pulling at Aoi's lapel, clicking her tongue at a crease Aoi missed while ironing. A tap on the side of Aoi's calf– the sock rests too low on her calf, and therefore is rumpling along the ankle. She does nod appreciatively at Aoi's posture, but does tug on the sleeve of her blazer so that the shoulder sits properly.

"You should know better than this, Ms. Akane," Ms. Yako tuts, voice as sharp as the sound of her fountain pen scratching against her clipboard.

Without much fanfare, Ms. Yako moves to the next girl. Aoi breathes out from her mouth, slow and measured. Not bad, all things considered. By this point, Ms. Yako is essentially nitpicking things about Aoi's uniform that she wouldn't on others to keep from seemingly having favorites. 

It's understandable. Approaching month four since the start of the semester here at Eden Academy, Aoi is the closest thing to a star student here. Each and every assessment they have laid in front of her, she's excelled in-- her peers have begun to assume that there has to be a catch of some sorts, since even with their prideful family titles and standings won't sway the harsh truth of Eden's instructors' evaluations. 

Aoi resists the urge to close her eyes. As pompous as it sounds coming from her, it's all simple– all of the assessments here follow a simple criteria. Do what you're told.

Eden Academy is an elitist institution that prides itself on being able to streamline young girls into the proper, to-be-seen-and-not-heard ladies of high class society. To be a school with such a success rate, the only way to get girls to conform to the aristocratic standard is to let nothing fall out of line. They'll only go short of beating anything not lady-like out of you.

Everything here was designed to be stunning. Polished marble floors in every room, embellished crown moldings along high-reaching ceilings. Portraits of prior headmasters and sponsors hang from nearly every square inch of free walls, regal to each individual stroke of oil paint. Extravagant, solid wood furniture at every corner. Sprawling, handwoven carpets at every turn. 

Beautiful, of course. Absolutely life-draining, as well. 

To be in the halls of high society, you must be high society. Every step you take in these halls, you must be worthy– the polished floors will reflect your every flaw, the portrait's soulless eyes pay due judgment as you pass under, the domed ceilings reaching over like the ribs of a bird cage.

Anything else is stripped away, to be replaced with a coat of fresh primer to cover up any other impurities. Aoi excels only because she knows the right smiles and right words to appease instructors enough to not try and chip past her skin.

Like a crack of thunder, "Yashiro Nene!" jolts Aoi from her thoughts. "What in Heaven's name did you do to your socks?!"

Along their line up, most of the girls turn to the offender-- who grimaces, quickly losing the straight-back posture she's meant to have to duck her head in shame. 

Aoi can't see the socks in question without bending out of line, but she doesn't have to wait long to get an idea of them: "The violets bloomed this morning!" Yashiro Nene rushes to explain, flustered from the sounds of it. "I really wanted to get a closer look, so I did-- but I remembered what you said last time, when I scratched up my shoes from the shrubs, so I took them off and--"

"So you walked in the dirt with just your socks?" Ms. Yako shrieks. 

"Yes?" squeaks Nene.

Ms. Yako trembles with an unbridled fury. And then comes the onslaught– Ms. Yako proceeds to scold Nene within an inch of her life, picking apart her ruffled blazer, the fraying hem of her skirt, the flower petal stuck to her fringe, and, despite her precaution, a scuff on the toe of her shoe. Not to mention the dirt still present in the creases of her palms, the chewed up nails upon each finger…

The list goes on and on. Once on a roll, Ms. Yako can rant for minutes on end. And when it comes to Yashiro Nene… well...

If instructors can have favorites, then they'll definitely have least favorites-- and, unfortunately for her, Yashiro Nene takes up that unofficial position. In the four months the semester's been in session, Yashiro Nene still has yet to pass a single inspection. 

All things considered, she's already leagues better than how she was before: on the first day of inspections, she forgot her blazer, had the last three buttons of her blouse undone, and had colorful doodles winding up her arms like tattoos. 

Ms. Yako had watched over her shoulder as she scrubbed her arms until they were bright pink, nearly the same color as the ink that was washed away.

With the lack of obvious impact on her, the administration seems to be scrambling on what to do. Truly, Nene isn't that bad-- she's just more outgoing than everyone else, more chatty, more eager. She doesn't even act out. When there's rules to follow, she follows. When there's things to be done, she does them. 

But of course, being a lady doesn't include climbing through the brush to get a closer look at a flower.

This time Aoi shuts her eyes, sighing. And, in an attempt to try and decide what to do with Nene before they declare she's helpless, since this godforsaken place only values how obedient they can make a girl, they've made the decision to move Nene into the vacant side of Aoi's dorm room.

Fundamentally she understands what the administration is trying to do. By putting Nene in the same room as one of their star students, they hope Aoi's good habits will rub off on her. Maybe they're hoping she will accept the responsibility of also trying to whip Nene into proper-lady-material outside of the classroom, too.

Privately, Aoi finds that bit to be the most annoying. The headmaster had pulled her aside this morning, smile so squeaky-clean it could nearly be plastic, to spring this sudden transfer upon her. Not a word of why Nene was transferring, or if she was even okay with this arrangement. Just that she now has a roommate, and that she should ' give Ms. Yashiro a little bit of a helping hand.' 

She'd rather chew on rocks. Being a pawn for this administration rubs her wrong in every which way. 

Not that she hates the idea of rooming with Nene, she knows it'll just… be interesting, simply put. Nene is so starkly different from Aoi that she has no idea how rooming with her will be. 

Aoi straightens her spine. It'll be fine. It will be.

______________

At seven fifty-two, someone knocks at Aoi's door. 

When she opens it, it's Yashiro Nene, twenty-two minutes late and panting.

"Sorry!" she bursts, frazzled, shuffling in with the largest suitcase Aoi's ever seen bursting at the seams, "I, uhm-- had more stuff than I thought, and I put off packing until the last minute-- I'm sorry I'm late! I still have to go back and grab some other stuff, but I'd figure I should just do multiple trips!"

Nene talks and moves like a whirlwind, her sentences beginning before they even end. She's constantly in motion, looking around, gesturing with her hands, shuffling on her feet. 

Aoi tries not to get swept up in it.

Before this, they had only orbited each other. In an academy so small, with each class consisting of the entire roster– it would be impossible to not be at least aware of everyone.

Ironically, the two of them are probably the most infamous. Two completely different ends of the spectrum, but infamous all the same. Aoi, to be celebrated, and Nene, to be berated.

Feebly, selfishly, she hopes Nene doesn't find it as an insult to be roomed with her. 

Dismissing the thought, Aoi clears her throat. "It's alright. Do you need any help?" she asks, to be polite. 

"Nope, I've got it covered!" Nene puffs, dragging in her suitcase rather than carrying it. With a great heave , she manages to swing it up onto the bed. The suitcase bounces on the mattress. Nene sags onto the bed next to it, groaning. Five seconds pass-- long enough that Aoi thinks Nene is going to stay there-- but then Nene snaps up, her mouth pursed with determination. When she hurries out the door, she leaves it open, steps echoing down the hall as she seemingly sprints to her old room.

With Nene out of the room, Aoi… doesn't know what to do with herself. She's already offered help, but since there's no need, she… would it be rude to go back to what she was doing?

Well. The thin booklet she had just finished rests on her side table, waiting to be checked out. She had planned on heading to the library eventually– it'll at least get her out of the room while Nene unpacks.

It's not fleeing, she reassures herself. Fleeing would mean that there's something to run from.

As Aoi puts all of her stationary and books into her satchel, Nene comes careening in with her other suitcase. This one she leaves by the bedside with a huff, takes a five second recollection of her breath, and unceremoniously plops onto the ground in front of her dresser tucked beneath the bed.

And… that's that. Nene starts unpacking, and Aoi stands to the side, feeling awkward. Her first roommate had only been enrolled for a month before being withdrawn. It wasn't quite long enough to learn the etiquette of having a roommate, especially for an only child like Aoi. 

"I'll… be in the library, if you need anything," Aoi starts, the words feeling clunky in her mouth. 

Nene looks up from where she's shoving clothes haphazardly into the drawers. "Oh! Okay!" she chirps, her hair falling in a frazzled mess around her face. "I'll see you later, then!"

The smile she gives Aoi is so unwarranted in its brightness. Aoi doesn't think she's ever been smiled at like this before, and doesn't know what to do with that information.

In return, she gives a smile that is so minuscule in comparison that it's almost pathetic before quickly fleeing. 

By the time Aoi returns, Nene has done everything short of renovating her side of the room. Posters and photocards are washi taped to the wall, crooked and unevenly spaced. Figurines, both humanoid and the silly blindbox animal variations, line the back of the desk. A pouch of colored pencils lays haphazardly half-way off the table, the pencils having rolled out from the opening.

Aoi literally did not know they were allowed to bring this much stuff to decorate. She side-eyes her clean cut desk, tidy and meticulous to where every book edge is parallel to the desk's edge. The stark difference between their desks is almost embarrassing– and it's on her part. 

What a way to show she's a stick in the mud: not having a single touch of personalization to her own desk.

Regardless, she finds Nene asleep with her cheek down on an open book, seated at her desk. Even though it's been less than a day, her desk is already a mess of assignments and books.

She doesn't move at all when Aoi leaves to wash up for bed. Nene surprisingly sleeps soundlessly. For someone as upbeat as her, Aoi would have thought she'd snore. Or drool, at least. 

Aoi shakes the thought from her head. Sleeping like that cannot be comfortable in the slightest, neck cricked, back bent. She reaches over to give Nene a slight shake of the shoulder.

Nene jolts, nearly snapping upright. A solid line cuts across her cheek from where it had been pressed up against the edge of a book, telling of how long she had been sleeping. "Euh, uhm–" Nene flounders, flailing, until she sees Aoi. She flushes a deep pink. "Uhm! H-Hi!"

"Hi," Aoi says back, lightly amused. "Sorry to wake you– I doubt that textbook is a nice pillow."

Somehow, Nene blushes even more, her hair flying as she whips her head back around to ogle at the pages. "Oh my god," she whispers to the text. In a flurry of movement, she leaps to her feet, slapping the book shut, rubbing her cheeks furiously– either to smooth out the book-crease on her face or to try and keep the color from her face. "Oh my god. This is so embarrassing…"

Aoi wants to reassure that it's not, because she's definitely drifted off to sleep while studying herself, but Nene is already moving on. She's quick to gather bed clothes and a toothbrush before dashing out the door, presumably to the bathroom.

A sigh nearly breaks through her lips. She presses them into a line instead, put off.

Nene returns soon after, the hair around the edges of her face damp and her cheeks back to their normal color. Recollected. "Thanks," she says, laughing, "I always end up falling asleep when studying! You won't believe how sore your neck gets from just a nap on a book!

She can imagine. Briefly, she wonders if this will be a common occurrence– Aoi having to shake Nene awake, her face pressed against her desk. She wonders if it was something her previous roommate did, too, or if they just left her there.

"Is it alright if I leave the light on?" Aoi asks instead, glancing at the lamp. It's not particularly bright, but it does reside between their beds. "I won't be up much longer– I just wanted to finish this chapter, but I can do it later…" She raises the book in question from where it rested on her lap.

"No worries," Nene says pleasantly, waving it off. "Sleeping with the light on doesn't bother me."

Before Aoi can parse that out, Nene clamors onto her bed. Against Nene's pillows is a small plush hamster that she didn't see before. When she finally settles under the covers, she makes sure that the plush's face is also open to the air, resting against the pillow next to her.

Aoi forces herself to look away.

"G'night, Aoi," Nene murmurs, muffled by her blankets.

"... Goodnight," she says back to the air.

______________

Just like the rest of Eden Academy, the gardens are flawlessly maintained, pruned, and made solely for presentation. Topiaries are spaced out within the garden's limits, as well as a wall of hedges to divide the space into sections. In the dead center is a three-tier fountain with baroque statues as its base, water glittering and clean. Wrought-iron benches can be found throughout the gardens, set only a foot away from the cobblestone. 

For all the grief she privately gives the over-the-top-ness of the academy, Aoi absolutely loves the gardens. 

It's the only oasis she finds in this boarding school. Something about the tranquility of the gardens is entrancing– it's easy to lose time in them, sitting upon a bench, soaking in the sun.

She tries to spend any moment she can out here. During individual study, she'll drift out to a bench to lay a book across her lap. After dinner, when they're allowed to wander, she'll stroll along the pathway, admiring the fresh blooms. And sometimes, when lunch is more of a finger-food rather than something she'll need knives and forks for, she'll post up near the fountain and close her eyes against the mist.

It's a shame the garden's a part of Eden. The things she would give just to be able to stay out here, or to be out here anytime she wants…

Aoi sighs, leaning further back into the bench. Today, Mr. Nagisa graciously released them early from his lesson, cheering about the good weather. Not many of her peers took the opportunity to come outside as well– for a bunch of girls to become as 'delicate as a flower', they sure don't bother to see flowers outside.

Regardless, she's meandered to one of her favorite benches on the outskirts of the garden, just below a sprawling oak tree that is much older than the academy itself. There isn't much time left between the next class– probably less than fifteen minutes, now– but Aoi's not going to let the chance of being out here slip through her fingers.

So she revels in it, closing her eyes with her hands clasped in her lap. Mr. Nagisa was right– the weather is pleasantly mild, warm, with the slightest of breeze pulling against her hair and rustling the leaves above her. If it weren't for the fact that there's another class period ahead, she could fall asleep out here.

"Oh! Aoi!"

Damn. Just when she thought she could have some peace. Aoi straightens out almost immediately, disengaging so smoothly that it's almost second nature. 

The sun casts a halo around the visitor, which leads Aoi to squinting against the light to parse out their face. She knows squinting is a poor expression to have but it's unavoidable here, at least not until they shift closer, under the shade of the oak.

"Nene," Aoi greets, keeping the surprise from her voice. 

It– shouldn't be all that surprising for Nene to be out here, too. Seeing that she's taken at least seven recorded and noted trips traipsing through the garden for flowers, it's likely that Nene's favorite place on campus is also the gardens.

She just… never would have thought Nene would call out for her.

Rooming with Nene hasn't changed much so far. They haven't interacted outside of their shared room yet– Aoi's still the star student, and Nene's still the opposite. Aoi will briefly see her in the dining room for each meal of the day, but aside from that, Aoi does her own thing in her free time, and she assumes Nene does the same.

It's… a little strange, perhaps. When Nene falls asleep during literature, Aoi knows it's from how long she spent up scribbling at the workbook rather from incompetence as the instructors assume. When Ms. Yako scolds her for a stain on her skirt, Aoi remembers the forlorn expression that briefly crossed Nene's face when she realized that there wasn't enough time to run it through the laundry the night before.

For all the grief that she gets, Nene is… just another girl. She's trying. It's not like she's a helpless case.

It makes Aoi feel a little worse every time she's praised by an instructor in the same period that Nene is picked upon. She really, really hopes Nene doesn't think that Aoi feels the same as the instructors when it comes to Nene's shortcomings.

Regardless, Nene carefully steps closer to the bench with a sheepish smile, a respectable distance from Aoi. "Hi! Hey, uhm, sorry to bother you," she says, awkward, like she knows she's encroaching on Aoi's space, "I, uhh, just wanted to make sure you got this back…"

And she's being handed a small book. Aoi blinks, confused, and gingerly takes it from Nene– oh. Masterpieces of Terror and the Supernatural. She recently picked it up from the library. It's one of the few ghost story collections she hasn't read yet; she wanted to read the individual ghost story books before she cracked open a collection, and, well… she's finally exhausted the solo books.

"You left this behind in class," Nene supplies, expression openly curious.

Ah. Must've slipped from her bag. In her haste to go to the gardens, it probably got left behind– it was closer to the opening of her bag since she had been peering at the cover of the book, tracing the straggling font of the title. 

"Thank you," she says. After a cursory glance about its condition, she slips it back into the bag resting at her side. 

To her surprise, Nene doesn't leave immediately. "Do you… like ghost stories?" Nene asks like she's treading cautiously. Aoi blinks at the sound of it.

It's…  almost a foreign feeling, having someone ask what she likes. No one particularly wants to hang out with her, more-less be around her, so no one really knows anything about her. There's a glass wall between her and all of her peers– one that has holes poked in it, so that they're able to exchange pleasantries and small talk, but to never get close to each other. 

Not that Aoi wants to get close. As much as they're all in the same boat at this institute, the other girls don't like her, and she doesn't like them back. Being taught to be elegant and high class ends up creating some haunty personalities. 

But here Nene is. Nene, who hasn't let a single berating get under her skin, who still keeps her charming weirdness regardless of how much she's scolded for it.

"Oh, they're fun," Aoi says belatedly. It's definitely considered one of the 'stranger' things about her– the influx of ghost stories and horror novels she checks out from the library makes the librarian raise her thin eyebrow. Honestly, she's surprised that there's even books in the library that aren't solely educational or especially curated stories of women being obedient wives. "It's what I usually read before bed."

At this, Nene gasps, eyes going wide. "Before bed?" she shrieks, "I was always wondering what you were reading, but I never thought– how do you even get sleep?"

Something tickles at the back of Aoi's throat, something a little like laughter. A small smile pulls at her lips when she speaks. "They don't really scare me." Then, because the answer's a little obvious, "Are you scared of ghosts?"

Like she suspected, the answering wince is telling. "Not– not really, " she says, wringing her wrists, "I can handle them during daytime, but… but once it's dark out, they really give me the heebie-jeebies."

Heebie-jeebies. That's absolutely adorable. 

"I suppose these old hallways are particularly cultivating for ghosts, too," Aoi says casually, trying for a joking tone. Once again, Nene reacts exactly how Aoi expects– she grimaces, shivering visibly.

"They're the worst!" Nene whines. She lowers herself onto the other side of Aoi's bench, rubbing at her eyes as she complains. "I love ghost stories, but every time I turn the corner in the dorm I swear the Crooked Lady is going to be there to nab me! It's exactly the kind of halls that are described in the story!"

Now that she thinks about it– she supposes they are quite similar. The dorm's floors are an older wood that creaks with every other step. The halls are long chutes, fairly similar to the tale's endless halls.

"Well," Aoi smiles, laughing a little, "at least we're not twelve, since that's usually the age that the Crooked Lady likes to grab."

Nene's eyes shine when she peeks through her fingers. "Literally! It's the only thing that keeps me from screaming every time I go to the bathroom at night…" She unfolds from her position, resting back against the bench. A worldly sigh comes from her. "It's honestly just a saving grace that rather than ghosts, I think it's just that the paintings are haunted."

A snort bursts from Aoi, surprising the both of them. Aoi coughs to cover it, hoping her ears aren't burning visibly. "Oh, without a doubt," she says, "Founder Regulus Eden's eyes definitely follow you when you walk by it."

"Right!" Nene exclaims, once again full of energy, like she's finally found someone who thinks the same, "Right! I've been saying that forever, and no one believes me! That portrait has a vendetta against me, I swear!"

The entire hall of prior headmaster's portraits always gave such an awful condescending atmosphere to it. It's one of the halls that lead from the dorms to the main academy building, so every morning and night you get to feel the pressure of hundreds of years old judgment and assessment. 

"I like to ignore his portrait in particular," Aoi says airily, "He can judge me all he wants– he was a pompous, classist idiot who spoke to his kin like they were lower than him, so I don't really care what he has to say."

Nene chokes a little bit, but blinks in revelation like the pieces of a puzzle have come together. "He was?" She scratches at her chin. "That makes so much sense! No one with that kind of powdered wig can be nice."

"Exactly the kind of fellow to make an academy like this, it seems," Aoi says clearly instead of muttering like she wants. She winces after. That wasn't a bright thing to say. Shows a little bit too much of her grudge against this place. If an instructor heard those words, they would probably scold her into the next semester.

But Nene only blinks. Her mouth opens to speak, but the distant toll of the bell cuts her off. 

Whatever she was about to say, she ends up withholding it– simply shrugs, reshouldering her bag, and rising to her feet. "You also have Mr. Tsuchigomori next, right?" she asks.

Aoi's slower to rise. She's expecting to mourn that her peace had been cut short, but she finds that she doesn't mind much. "I do," she confirms, almost puzzled. 

Nene frowns in a way that's almost a pout. Looking side to side, as if checking for anyone else listening, she whispers, "If there's anyone at the academy who gives me 'possessed' vibes, it's him." 

Biting her tongue to keep down another snort, Aoi nods conspiratorially. "You've noticed that he moves strangely, too, huh."

When they arrive to class together, Mr. Tsuchigomori gives them a long, curious look, and so does everyone else. It doesn't seem to bring up any issue, so Mr. Tsuchigomori turns back to the board, chalk in hand, and when the two of them catch each other's eyes from across the room when he simultaneously reads from a book and writes on the board in a peculiar way– well, no one catches the gleam in their eyes.

______________

One night, Nene doesn't come back after dinner. 

Not that it's unusual; Nene usually meanders back to their room an hour or two after the dining hall hours end. What she does during this time, Aoi doesn't know– it doesn't seem to always be the same thing. Sometimes she'll come in with the cuffs of her blouse still wet, most likely from the near eternal dish duty she's put under as general punishment. Then there's the times where she comes in with cobwebs in her hair or grime smeared across her face. 

Regardless of what Nene does, she always comes back with plenty of time to putter around her desk, fall asleep at least once, wake up enough to sleepily redress for bed, and resume sleeping properly, all before curfew and before quiet hours. It's routine, even for someone as spontaneous as Nene.

But today… today, as minutes tick towards nine o'clock, there has been no sign of Nene at all.

It's probably nothing , Aoi thinks, oddly restless. The paperback in her hand cracks along the spine, to which she quickly relaxes her abuse of. She tries to read further along the page. Forces herself to focus.

But she isn't back. She isn't back, as Aoi hears bids of good nights and doors closing down the hall. The instructor on monitor duty walks past the doors at nine-thirty, just before the lights in the halls go out. And Nene still isn't back.

Aoi taps her fingers along the edge of the book she hasn't turned a page in for the past ten minutes. Nene's never done something like this before-- at least, never as she's been Aoi's roommate. Albeit it hasn't been long, but Nene doesn't really seem to be the kind to do that kind of rule breaking. 

So-- so maybe something's happened to her. 

That might be it. It probably is. Aoi sets her book down beside her. 

Does she go look for the instructor who went by earlier? What would they do after that? How would they even find Nene? The academy's massive, and seeing that Nene's exploring places that are probably abandoned– how else would she get cobwebs strung up on her-- there's no telling where she would be.

Ah. That would mean fetching and telling the instructor that Nene is breaking curfew. And, by extension, probably in areas of the academy she's not meant to be in.

She picks her book back up restlessly. 

Nene always comes back from her adventures. She's curious to a fault, but Aoi's never seen her do anything that was particularly reckless. Anything she does that strikes the ire of an instructor is just because Nene doesn't do things in the pristine way they want her to. She doesn't particularly break rules. 

Wrapped up in her thoughts, she jolts hard enough her teeth crack together when the door creaks open, slow enough that Aoi immediately thinks intruder. She rears back her book, and holds.

Slipping in with bare feet-- is Nene. 

She presses close to the wall, like she's actually sneaking in. Something rustles, brushing against the frame as she slides in, but Aoi can't quite see what it is with Nene's back to her. Carefully and slowly, Nene presses the door shut without a noise.

For a moment or three, she's absolutely motionless, still in a sneak mode. Then she exhales with her whole body. 

Oddly, Aoi feels retribution for her own fright when Nene does a whole-bodied jump when she looks up and meets Aoi's. 

"Aoi! Sorry-- you startled me!" Nene stage-whispers, toeing further into the room. Aoi was right– there is an undefinable bundle in her arms. Upon stepping up to her desk, she awkwardly lets everything tumble from her arms to the table top, and drops her shoes with the socks shoved in them on the floor. "Sorry," she apologizes again, "I hope I didn't wake you or anything!"

With no obvious sign of anything wrong, the worry that had squeezed her lungs finally ebbs away. "You didn't," Aoi says, neutrally, slipping off her bed. She doubts that she could have even slept, fretting about where Nene was and what she had gotten herself into.

Nene blinks at her, head tilted. Like she knows that Aoi had more to say. Maybe her fretting isn't as concealed as she thought it was…

"Er," Aoi fumbles, feeling silly for the tizzy she spurred herself into. "I just… was a little worried, since you hadn't come back before curfew."

"Oh!" Nene smiles, busying herself by pulling her hair out of loose pigtails, "Oh, no worries. I didn't mean to take so long, either! I really lost track of time, so by the time I started heading back, it was already late…" 

She frowns. Her nose scrunches with the expression, eyebrows furrowed, and it's so cute that she doesn't even seem upset. "I wish I could have stayed longer, honestly, but this!" she abruptly twirls to her desk, gathering the bundle she had dropped there earlier, " this is totally worth it!"

In Nene's arms are… flowers. A complete array of flowers. Aoi holds back a grimace; she couldn't tell what they were earlier because the flowers are wrapped in Nene's uniform blazer as a poor substitute for wrapping paper. But now that Aoi can see them so closely–

The dogwood, daylilies, and hostas are a familiar sight; they're integrated into the landscaping, breaking the monotony of the near-obnoxiously abundant topiaries towards the front entrance of the academy. The gardenias, she's pretty sure, are more along the back of the building, in tufts along the windows. 

But then there's a shock of pink– two kinds of pink flowers. Rhododendron and azaleas. Both of which are not anywhere on academy grounds.

"Where did you get these?" She asks, stunned. She wants to reach out and rub a petal between her fingers, feel the velvet she knows that they are, but she keeps her wrists pinned to her side.

"In the gardens," Nene says, which is a bold-faced lie. She smiles sheepishly, caught, since she's probably aware that Aoi knows far too much about the gardens– it's the only place she likes being at, so of course she'd be well acquainted with the fact that these flowers are not there. 

Aoi fails to smother a little huff of laughter. Nene's own smile grows a little bit more confident as she leans closer to Aoi, stage whispering, "They're actually in the woods by the horse stables! I saw them after Buttercup threw me off, last lesson!"

That day, Nene has walked in, the white of her uniform nearly terracotta with the dusting of the track dirt. Aoi had tried not to stare too long-- the rip in her stocking revealed the bloody, scabbing mess of her knee, and the paths of clear skin running from her eye to her chin implying that the fall had been as painful as it looks-- but Nene had seen her anyways. And, instead of grimacing, Nene had brightened, somehow excited as she had told her she had been bucked off of a horse.

Aoi had wondered how Nene managed to perk up, even after something that was a little awful. It all makes sense, now, especially with the way Nene is.

They're quite similar, it seems. If Aoi herself had caught a glimpse of those flowers, she, too, would have thought about them all day. 

But then that's where they're different: Aoi would have only tried stealing glimpses of them whenever possible. Nene took matters into her own hands. 

"They're lovely," Aoi murmurs. She would have never known they were here on campus.

Curiously, Nene flushes. She steps back– Aoi hadn't even noticed how close they were to each other– carefully laying the bundle back onto her desk. "Yeah! I really, er, wanted to see them together with the gardenias!" When unfolding her blazer-wrapping, she grimaces. When Aoi peers over, the smears of dirt splotch the blazer's lining. Those are going to be tricky to get out, if not treated when fresh.

Nene hesitates, here. She glances around her abyss of a desktop. There's no hint of what she's looking for– not until the gingerly re-wraps the flowers with the blazer sleeves. 

"Oh," Aoi says, surprising herself, as the pieces connect, "do you need a vase?"

When Nene turns to her, there's surprise on her face, her eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar. There's surprise, and a little bit of hope. "Do you have one?" 

She doesn't. At least, not a proper vase. Nothing would be lovelier than to have fresh flowers in one of the elegant crystal vases that she used to admire back at home, but anything that wasn't useful to her education here simply wasn't brought with her. 

One thing that did come along with her was a tall pencil holder. 

She doesn't really know what comes over her, but the idea of all of those flowers, lovingly picked and carefully arranged, having been snuck through the width of the lawns and down the monitored halls… Aoi takes three long steps to her desk, grabs hold of the pencil holder, and upturns it. The pencils and pens clatter on the table top, only held up from rolling straight off by Aoi's hand.

"This should probably be tall enough, if we cut the stems," she says, tapping the bottom to shake out any debris stuck to the inside of the cup. Once satisfied, she turns and offers it to Nene, who, she only realizes now, hasn't moved an inch and is gaping at her. 

The two of them hold still. Long enough that the absurdity of Aoi stomping forward and pouring out all of her pencils onto her desk finally makes Aoi's face feel hot in the way that she knows she's blushing. 

Before she can rescind her offer and promptly overthink everything for the next few days, Nene reaches out and takes hold of the cup, but doesn't take it from her hands. "Are– Are you sure?" Nene stammers, still stunned. She glances at the mess that now covers Aoi's desk. "I mean, your pencils…"

"It's no worries," Aoi says, assured in the way she doesn't feel, letting go of the cup so Nene has to take it. "I have a pencil pouch to put them in. I don't mind using it for the flowers. It's just a shame I don't have anything prettier to offer."

And, slowly, the shy uncertainty fades away, a smile blooming on Nene's face. 

"No, this is perfect!" she beams. With a sunny bounce in her step, she rifles through her desk to procure a pair of scissors. Her excitement is infectious as she turns to Aoi. "If you wouldn't mind, could you get some water for it?"

And after hurrying to the communal bathrooms to fill the cup with water and fussing with the stem lengths so that the cup won't topple over, the flowers form a charming bouquet together. A little mismatched and busy, but lovely all the same.

"Do you mind if we keep it on your desk? Since then it won't be drowning in a mess," Nene jokes, eyes bright. She hasn't stopped smiling since they started. 

Aoi's heart does a little flutter, like butterfly wings caught in her chest. 

The flower vase takes position in the empty left hand corner of her desk. A bright pop of pink and white and red against the crisp muted tones of Aoi's stationary. Even though it's rough around the edges, with its substitute vase and with some of the flower heads squished together, it's the best thing she's ever seen.

______________

When Aoi walks into their room after dinner to find Nene on all fours, reaching deep beneath her bed, she tries not to be particularly concerned.

"Are you… okay?" Aoi asks, dropping her bag into her chair cautiously. Although Nene does some strange things, they're usually all they are– just strange. She just. Can't image what she's halfway under the bed for.

A crack– Nene yelps and Aoi winces, knowing she just cracked her head into the bedframe.

"Ah! Er, hi, Aoi!" Nene calls, squirming out from underneath the frame. She's rubbing at the back of her head with one hand, embarrassed, but she's also dragging something else out with her. "Yeah– yeah, I'm fine, I was just getting this! I guess I pushed it too far underneath whenever I put it here…"

It's a… shoe-box covered in stickers. When she flips open the top, a handful of cassette tapes slide haphazardly to the ground, having only been kept in the box by the inch of the lid's height.

Aoi steps closer, curious, as Nene dives back under for another item. Some tapes are in cases with printed labels, obviously bought from a store, with names like Don Henley and A-ha. Others don't have a case and are labeled individually with Nene's looping handwriting.

"A ha!" Nene cheers, which almost makes Aoi snort with laughter. "Finally! I got it!" When she climbs out from the dark, she shows her boon to Aoi, excited.

Bright pink with accents of light grey, Nene's cassette player shows the love it's been shown. Stickers similar to the ones on the cassette box adorn the player as well, but are marginally more rubbed off. The transparent case that lends view to the cassette tapes themselves is buffed; it's nearly translucent with the amount of scratches it has. 

"Are we even allowed to have those...?" Aoi wonders aloud, watching as Nene pops the case open and removes the cassette. 

Shrugging cheerfully, Nene chirps, "No idea!" She motions for Aoi to join her on the floor, scooting back to the box. Individually she pulls out each tape, humming approvingly at some, and setting them aside.

Aoi carefully lowers herself to the floor, picking up a tape from what she assumes is the 'Good' pile. The plastic case is black, with the words "ABBA" and "GOLD" across the front. When she pops the case open, the tape inside is transparent, save for the reels and black label on the tape itself.

Briefly, she wonders how Nene even managed to sneak in such a large amount of tapes. Their belongings aren't checked or anything when they first move in, but the amount of tapes Nene has is quite staggering, considering that she probably hid it all away in one suitcase. 

And how dedicated she is-- to bring so many, she must love every single one of them. Couldn't bear to part with any.

"Hey, is there any genre you like in particular?" Nene asks distractedly. The 'Good' pile is increasing fairly rapidly. At this rate, she may as well just pull all of them out and into the pile. "I don't know if I'll have any musician you name, but I have tons of tapes! There will definitely be something you like!"

Aoi blinks. "I don't..." listen to music, she thinks about finishing with. Something like embarrassment squeezes her chest before she can, because of course, some elite, home-schooled kid like her would be above listening to music-- so she clears her throat and says instead, "I don't have a preference."

There was no gramophone, record player, or cassette player in the Akane household. The lacking presence of them made the sharp footsteps echo through the halls all the more. Aoi had been curious about it before, of course, but the interest had petered out as time went on and there were no chances to listen. Even nowadays, with the ability to click the cassettes into the library rented players and listen and rewind and listen again– Aoi hasn't found any interest.

Sharp in her sternum, she remembers the gap between the two of them. Just how different she is from Nene.

Either obvious to the pause or polite enough to overlook it, Nene looks up from the tape she's been deliberating over. Her smile is gummy, twinkling. "I can play my favorites for you, then!"

Her favorites. Nene gives and gives and gives. High in her chest, Aoi feels honored that she's the one that Nene has found worthy of it. That Nene looked at Aoi and trusted her enough to hand over these gifts.

Aoi's just worried she's going to give all of herself away. Down to the bits and pieces.

"Oh," she starts out of politeness, regardless of how much her heart is pounding, "You don't have to--" 

And– Nene slows to a halt, her fingers curling in on the tape in her hands, labeled 'Absolute FAVORITES!!' in glitter pen with looping hearts and flowers around it. Aoi catches a glimpse of Nene's face, a glimpse of a heartbreak, before a curtain draws over it.

"Ah! Er, my bad," Nene says, her smile falling at the edges. Withdrawing. "I shoulda asked if you even wanted to listen at all-- I know it's kinda noise pollution…"

Her shoulders drop lower, like a flower wilting. Yet, as she still manages to smile, her gleaming excitement has been neatly packed up and stowed away, out of sight.

Guilt washes over her, a waterfall. Aoi wants to turn back time five seconds and sew her own mouth shut. Wants to go even further back to find that old roommate of Nene's and pummel them, since she's got the inkling that this has happened before but was only met with dismissal, disgust. 

The– the look of shame on Nene's face– 

"No!" bursts from Aoi, panicked. Both of them freeze, time-stopped, as if the slightest of movement would undo everything before their eyes. 

Christ. She didn't mean for this to happen. She has to salvage this. Has to. Shakily, she clears her throat, but it doesn't get rid of the squeeze. "Uhm. I mean. I…"

Back when she was younger, much, much younger, and was allowed to be a kid, she used to do anything she put her mind to. As long as it was interesting or a dare, she'd do it.

One of which was jumping into the lazy river from the stone bridge in town. 

The murky water of the river was only a few feet from the bridge's bottom, the current so slow the ripples of the water were nearly non-existent. She knew that the river was deep enough that there was no worry about hitting anything prematurely, no where to accidentally crash into and shatter bone. 

All she needed to do was jump and swim.

The boy she used to be friends with, Akane, was the reason they were in that situation, and nearly begged her to ignore the dare he had made. He, unlike Aoi, wasn't all that brave. He stood further back on the bridge, fisting the fabric of his shirt, and tried to plead with her until she took him seriously.

The water's too deep. The current is too strong, he'd say. At some point, he was simply just saying things, anything, in the hope it would dissuade her. The fall is too much. Come on. Please.  

She had scoffed, but when her limbs locked into place, toes just barely off of the stone lip, she was worried she wasn't all that brave, too. 

The water was scary. If she forgot how to swim, she'd sink like a pebble. If the current was stronger than it looked, she'd be cast down the river to wash up God knows where. Something lied just beneath its surface, masquerading in the deep blue.

But then she had breathed in. Held it in her chest until it started to burn, to fray the edges of her lungs. Let it out. Dug her fingernails into her palms. And then she jumped. 

Aoi now breathes in. Holds it in. 

Patiently, Nene waits, waits for an answer, the thin line of her mouth trembling. She clutches the tape in her hands, the skin at her joints white. Nervous, earth shatteringly nervous. But still waiting for Aoi. 

Nene gives so much. So, so much. Doesn't even think to hesitate about it. 

It'd only be fair to give something back. 

Her fingernails bite into the meat of her hands. She forcibly smooths them out against her skirt. "I.. I don't listen to music often. Ever," she makes herself say, fighting against the instinct to keep her mouth shut, to never say these kinds of things. They're not becoming of a lady; a lady doesn't say a damn thing about how she is or what she likes. "It wasn't something my mother found… important. I don't have a favorite song or anything. I…"

Eyes wide, Nene's looking at her, her expression caught between so many things Aoi can't catch a gleam of what it could be. She has to look away before she loses her nerve. "I mean… I'd– I'd love to listen. If. If you'll have me," she peeters out, breathless.

It shouldn't be so hard to say. She misses when she didn't have to watch her tongue with such ferocity– having to watch every word she said, having to filter it, has become a goddamn instinct at this point. Sharing things about herself feels more like carving a cube of her skin out– she has to grind her teeth together and wield the knife herself. 

But, in front of Nene, she wants to be able to say things just as freely. Wants to give just as much, and not feel the wound fester for weeks after. 

When a pair of soft hands rest on her own, Aoi jolts, strung tight. Honey-sweet, Nene's eyes are the softest she's ever seen them.

"Then," Nene says, like a rising dawn, "let's find your favorite song."

______________

The oncoming days are the best Aoi's ever had since she started attending Eden. 

In academic lessons, where Mr. Tsuchigomori stands with a backdrop of chalk-dusted board reading an excerpt, Nene nudges her chair with her shoe. Aoi glances-- a small wedge of paper is pushed her way, under the guise of Nene swiping away eraser shavings. Unfolding the creases reveals an artistically rendered fox, chewing on what seems to be a cartoon interpretation of Mr. Tsuchigomori. 

Aoi has to swallow her snort. She misses the next three lines of notes in exchange for drawing a crude piranha chewing on his arm. 

Nene does snort out loud. Her punishment is to read the next passage, but the second she's done and Mr. Tsuchigomori starts up again, she doodles and passes back a cat doing a handstand. 

At seven-on-the-dot, Aoi slips into her seat, across the grand mahogany table from Nene. The dining hall is silent aside from the shuffling to their proper seats, the clinking of their dishware being put into place. 

At no point does Nene pull back her feet from where they nudge Aoi's, nor does she try not to smile or make a face whenever Aoi makes eye contact with her. Aoi bites her tongue to keep a stoic expression, but Nene's eyes crinkle and her nose scrunches and it's so cute that she can't really help the smallest grin from her lips.

In sneaking moments, Aoi folds the napkin across her lap into a crooked off-shoot of a swan. It's awfully sad looking– which is fair, considering Aoi had only practiced origami once before and had nearly forgotten most of the steps. 

When she drops it onto the floor and passes it closer to Nene with her foot, she signals her to look with an exaggerated glance downwards. Nene unsuspectingly lifts the table cloth and looks. 

Her eyes gleam. In a way that is so conspicuous in its attempt to be inconspicuous, she looks side to side, reassuring that the instructor isn't looking, and then slides down infestismally in her seat. With a quick duck down, she reemerges and winks at Aoi. A quick flash of the crumpled swan head confirms she has it in her hands.

The main dish ends up being a beef wellington with roasted vegetables, elevated to be more pretty than appetizing. For the actual mealtime, they dine like normal, but Aoi catches a particularly cheeky look in Nene's eyes. In discreet glances, she watches as Nene mashes the potatoes and carefully sculpts it. 

Another glance around– then she lifts the plate slightly to Aoi. The potatoes are in the shape of a teddy bear's head. 

Aoi covers her smile with a well timed sip of water. She squishes a carrot, using the fork tongs to shape a bowtie. Feeling daring, Aoi keeps watch of the instructor, and quickly reaches across the table to drop the bowtie-carrot onto Nene's plate. 

Nene absolutely lights up. She puts the bowtie on the potato-bear accordingly. When she lifts her plate again, Aoi flashes her a thumbs up– putting down just in time for the instructor to glance her way.

Their peers, prim and properly eating the meal, knife-in-left-hand-and-fork-in-right-hand, look at Aoi like she's lost her mind. 

When they're not in the gardens together, they're in the plush chairs tucked in the library. The librarian doesn't mind them chattering as long as there's no one actively near them studying, which means they're regulated to just writing small notes on the margins of notebooks to each other. 

Nene isn't as much of a reader as Aoi, so when Aoi settles down with a new book to read, she steps through the isles looking for any book spine that sounds interesting enough to be pulled out. Usually, they're books full of pictures– Nene pulls out notebook paper for these, and tries to copy what's already on the pages. Sometimes she forgoes the paper and draws straight on the back of her palms when the colorful pens she's brought.

Aoi only hesitates for a moment before she leans over the herbarium Nene's pulled out, finger shyly pressed below the image of a poppy. 

A bright cardinal red, the resulting poppy drawing curls around her wrist, hidden just so by the cuff of her blouse. She still gets caught– not that she cares. Ogling at it in the middle of class isn't exactly being sneaky, but she doesn't want to be sneaky in the slightest. Why should she hide something so pretty? So precious?

The only regret she has is that as a result of being caught, she has to wash it off. 

More often than not, she's side by side with Nene at the sinks, scrubbing away at something to get it to the pristine clean that the staff wants. It nearly becomes a bi-weekly ritual.

Aoi's never been good at cleaning things– she's never had to be good, since she's habitually a neat and tidy person, and always had the option of someone else doing it for her. But she's apparently bad enough at it that Nene takes the time to peer over and laugh, sometimes fully in stitches, at just how poorly she's doing. 

It's more than enough to have Nene recover from the slumps she'll get into, when Aoi smears her clothes with the same amount of dirt and Nene's face scrunches, saying No, no wait– you don't have to do that for me. Just from Nene's nature, she's going to get some kind of grime since she isn't limited by things like being presentable or what deems as proper. It usually lands her at being much more mussed up than Aoi, and Aoi kind of hates it. So she makes sure they're even.

Aoi's glad she could give her that– that she can stay by her side when Nene's had to do this all alone before. Glad that she can make her laugh instead of spiraling in the rhythmic silence of washing. 

Besides– she thinks she likes the feeling of ruining something now. Of taking a handful of dirt and coloring the pristine clean into an earthy tone. She could get used to it.

Curfew is no longer a thing that Aoi follows like a clockwork. Once they carefully listen for the night monitor passing by, they sidle together, knees knocking into each other, to file through Nene's cassettes to play at the lowest volume, or to dig into another booklet of ghost stories that Aoi's rented from the library to wonder if they're real or not.

Sometimes they fall asleep like that– with their backs against pillows, Nene's usually the first one out, head resting on Aoi's shoulder, her plush hamster that Aoi now knows is named Black Canyon tucked in her arms. 

Aoi never has the heart to wake her up and move her. So she usually ends up pulling the covers up to their chins, and falling asleep, just like that.

Every moment she has, she tries to spend it with Nene. Every class, every meal, every free period. She's never been so close with anyone before– never had this much fun before.

And– with a warmth in her heart, an excitement bubbling in her chest– she thinks Nene feels the same.

______________

In the middle of the night, Aoi is shaken awake. With the curtains to their room peeled back, the whole world is covered in a navy blue. It takes Aoi a couple of blinks to focus on Nene, who leans at the edge of her bed with stars in her eyes. 

Nene's quiet giggle almost feels like a part of a dream. "Hey, sleepy-head," she says, eyes curved into crescent moons. 

Blurry from sleep, Aoi can only blearily blink at her. "Good… morning?" Aoi says, slow, even though the sun rises at seven. She rolls to catch the sight of her alarm clock. It's a little past one in the morning.

"Sorry, I know it's late-- early? Either way," Nene leads on, quiet– any louder and she may pop the bubble over the night silence. "I was gonna head to the gardens," she whispers conspiratorially, "since it's a full moon tonight! Whenever the moon's out, it almost feels like a different world out there! And the stars are so bright… do–" she falters, a little shy, "--do you want to come with me?"

Aoi has never wanted something more in her life. Never, even when she was finally sentenced to a life indoors to learn etiquette and socialisms, when all she wanted to do was roll in the dirt and look for ladybugs. 

Sleep still stubbornly pulls at the corners of her eyes, but Aoi scrubs them away, rolling upright to throw her legs off the side of her bed. "Of– Of course!" she rushes to say, words tumbling out. 

As much as it deeply scares her to be caught sneaking by faculty, she wouldn't miss this chance for anything in the world. 

Although it's irrational to think it, but she's sure her heart's pounding loud enough to get them caught. 

From the second she threw her legs off her bed and stood up, the thrumming started, louder and louder. We're really doing it, she had thought, following Nene to their room door after they had gathered their cardigans and tugged socks on, we're sneaking out . Nene had eased the door open, still cautious even though after a certain hour the instructor monitoring heads off to bed. Then, with a brief check both ways, Nene stepped out into the hall, motioning her to follow.

She's trembling, she realizes. A slight shake in her hands, her chest so tight that the muscles quake. 

In the last few weeks she's cared less and less about following the strict guidelines that have nearly been branded into her. No longer is she worried about all of the idiosyncrasies of etiquette, of her uniform being in pristine condition, or keeping her words well mannered and articulate. Getting into trouble over that is essentially a slap on the wrist– but here and now, the real threat of being caught sneaking past curfew, sneaking outside, puts a lead bullet in her chest, almost outweighing any excitement she feels. 

What would the punishment be for sneaking out? She'd imagine it'd be more than just a week of dish-duty. A call to the parents? Expulsion? 

It's fine, she forces over her thoughts. Nene has never been caught before. We won't be caught. 

The further they creep down the halls, the more she realizes it's a miracle, really, that Nene hasn't been caught before. The academy building itself is immensely historic; it does not let its age go unknown, floor boards groaning with the shifting of weight, doors creaking on dehydrated hinges with the slightest brush of air. Even a specter could be caught with how much of a warning the building gives upon a presence.

Each noise-- groan, crack, creak-- prickles along the back of Aoi's neck. She jerks to look in the direction of each sound, so on edge that she feels she's going to pop out of her skin.

Someone could be peering from the hallway. Or in that shadow. She can't be sure. It doesn't look like there is, but something made a noise that way, and–

–and, carefully, a hand slips into her own. 

Aoi's heart leaps into her throat. She can dimly see Nene's knowing smile– there's nothing accusing or annoyed in it, which is so, so kind of her. 

And. And she feels a minute tremor to Nene's hand. When she looks back up to Nene's face, she sees it now. Nene's a little terrified, too. 

A squeeze on her hand-- it's alright. 

Even though she's scared, probably more scared than Aoi since she also fears ghosts and these halls are far too old not to have ghosts in them, she's still reassuring Aoi. 

And Aoi believes her. There isn't anything to be so scared of. If Nene can creep through halls that terrify her, then… then Aoi can too. 

Although it takes a couple of steady breaths to be sure, Aoi nods, and Nene gently tugs her further down the hall with their hands clasped together. 

Still, at every noise, she grips Nene's hand tighter, trying to keep her heart from spilling out. It feels ridiculous, she knows it's ridiculous, being so frightened of each sound; especially when Nene doesn't flinch or jolt in the slightest. 

But with every reassuring squeeze back, each reassuring grin flashed her way– even though the urge to hide away is overwhelming, she steels her nerves, and keeps going. 

Nene eventually tugs her towards the line of tall windows in the main hall. Sliding the window up enough for them to climb out is relatively silent, save for squeaks that match each halt in the slide up and lets in the unmuted sound of the crickets' chorus. Nene doesn't even wince at the noise– it leaves Aoi in awe, who had promptly triple checked the doors to see if any instructors came charging towards them at the first squeak.

With a practiced ease, Nene slips over the window's ledge. Leaves crunch as she steps over, both feet solidly on the ground. Ducking back in, she smiles at Aoi, cheeks rosy, and offers her hand.

Wood chips from the landscaping and burrs from the foliage dig into her feet when she climbs over. At her grimace, Nene smiles sympathetically. "Sorry," she whispers, pulling down the window that squeaks only slightly to about a quarter-inch open– just enough to seem closed if glanced over. "Wearing socks helps, but then it gets stuck to your feet more…" she reveals, lifting her foot and brushing off anything caught by the threads.

Hand still clasping Aoi's, she leads her through the mulch, between the topiaries and the bushes. Lit by the moonlight, their trek through the landscaping leads them to the looping cobblestone pathway that connects the entire back of the campus. The stones are cool to the touch, chilly through the thin socks she wears. 

They walk through a cloud of gnats at least once along their path, causing both of them to swat away at the air. They pass a conglomeration of frogs, croaking obnoxiously overtop each other. Nene whispers a quiet, "I think they're having an argument," and both of them giggle at the prospect of it. 

Nonetheless, their stroll eventually ends at the academy's extensive gardens, surrounded by the pruned hedges. And the further they step into the gardens, the more Aoi understands what Nene means.

Aoi forgets how much of a difference simply the moon being full in the sky does for the night itself– regardless of how much time she spends in the gardens during the day, there's nothing quite like it now in the night. Most of the flowers have closed up with the lack of sunlight, but a few are still open, their petals nearly iridescent with the moonlight they catch.

She wishes she could stay here forever. The world holds its breath for them, here.

"Oh!" gasps Nene, squeezing her hand– Aoi didn't even realize they were still holding hands– "Fireflies!" 

At first, she doesn't see them. Small blinks of light, regulated mostly to the hedges and the treeline, but then one winks close to Nene's face, lighting her face in the softest of lights, which makes her gasp, delighted. 

"I haven't seen fireflies in forever," Aoi admits softly, transfixed. The bugs must have been startled by their approach– now that they're used to the new presence, they've begun dotting between the bushes.

One blinks near her arm. Gently, Aoi lifts her hands and cups the firefly, mid air. Soft fluttering brushes against her fingers until the bug settles. When she opens up her palms, the bug seems content to stay, lighting up her palms and her face after a few moments. 

"Woah," Nene breathes next to her, leaning in closer to knock their shoulders together. She's warm, comforting against the chill of the night. 

Aoi turns more towards her, profering out her hands. The firefly flashes only a couple times more before taking flight, gently bumbling up and out of Aoi's palms. 

They're so close together. Huddled, essentially– if Aoi looked up to Nene's face, she could probably count each individual eyelash, count each freckle on her cheeks. 

However, Nene ends up stepping away before Aoi can gather the courage to look. She digs into the pockets of her cardigan, pulling out a small bundle–

"I brought cookies, too!" she beams. 

Aoi laughs clear and loud, delighted. "You won't believe this, then," she says, and tugs a napkin out from her own pocket. In both of their hands are the same kinds of cookies they had separately nabbed from the dining hall this afternoon.

Nene cheers loud enough that she's briefly worried that it might alert someone they're out there– she finds, after a moment, that she doesn't care if they're found. 

______________

A crack of thunder.

"Ms. Akane!"

Painstakingly, obnoxiously, Ms. Yako inspects everything thoroughly. Aoi already knows what she'll find. She's already got the itemized list.

Dirt caked beneath her nails. Said fingernails jagged, uneven and unmatched amongst each other. Blouse unironed, crumpled and wrinkly. Socks unevenly pulled up. Shoes scratched up, unshined…

Ms. Yako looks only a couple of seconds away from reaching out and pressing the back of her palm to Aoi's forehead. 

Aoi gives a breathless smile and a little shrug. She doesn't apologize. 

After Ms. Yako scratches furiously at her clipboard, dead silent, she steps to the next girl. Her face twists more.

Nene shoots Aoi a cheeky smile. She winks right on back.

______________

"We're going to start ballroom dance lessons!" cheers Nene when she drops down next to Aoi on the grass. Her presence comes with the departure of some idle butterflies, which she briefly pouts about as she watches them leave. It doesn't bring her spirits down for long, though. "I've always wanted to learn! I was so glad to hear there's actually lessons for it here!"

"I'm surprised it's taken so long to get around to," Aoi says, thoughtful. As part of their curriculum, they dedicate at least a month for a specific elective class that occurs at the end of the day. Longer training was for equestrianism and piano lessons, while things like embroidery and poetry were summed up in a week.

Ballroom dancing is definitely one of the first things imagined when talking about elite family gatherings– galas and parties are still a regular thing, so it's only natural that it should be taught. 

"It's so charming," Nene sighs, leaning back on her palms to look through the tree's canopy. "I've always wanted to, like, entrance someone with how gracefully I dance, y'know?" 

She doubts that something as simple as dancing would be a deciding factor on whether or not someone likes you, so Aoi just rolls her eyes playfully.

But she understands– when she was younger and impressionable and saw a gala with the gowns and the suits and the twirling couples, she had imagined herself amongst them. Having someone in your arms, close together, in stunning outfits and glittering floors… well, it would dazzle any child. 

"I don't know if it's the dance that charms, or if it's the dress," Aoi says conversationally. She doesn't really find ballroom dancing as entracing as she did when she was younger. The idea of being paired up with men she doesn't know or don't care for doesn't really sit well in her chest.

"It's gotta be both!" Nene counters, pouting thoughtful. "Like… if your dress is stunning, but you're going to be stepping on your partner's feet all night, no one is going to want to dance with you. Then if you're great at dancing, but your dress isn't all that flashy, no one would want to dance with someone who isn't… well, gorgeous, I guess."

Aoi blinks, surprised. "You've put a lot of thought into it, haven't you?"

Nene nods enthusiastically. "Well, yeah!" she says, rearranging her skirt across her knees, "I mean, I've got to make sure someone wants to dance with me, be that with a nice dress or proper dance steps."

Confusion pulls at Aoi's mouth. There's… something, underneath that statement. It bugs Aoi enough that she can't stop turning it over in her head. "What do you mean by that?"

"The boys I ask always turn me down, so I figured it's gotta be my dancing that bugs them, right?" she concludes, scratching at her chin, "They've probably seen me absolutely massacre people's feet when I dance! I know I'm a little bit of a mess, so I've got to learn properly!"

In the years that Aoi's been forced to attend parties and galas, never has she ever met a boy who's cared about dancing. They'll only dance because it's proper to, and they'll always botch it, clobbering her toes with their shined shoes, crashing into others when the dance itself is a simple square and a twirl. 

If a boy gives a shit about dancing, they're so snot-nosed that they're not even worth the time spent trading bows with. 

So that means. That means…

Bitterness fills her mouth. She curses all of the boys who have looked at Nene, seen Nene bear her heart out to them in the palm of her soft hands, asking for something as small as a dance, a dance that lasts a minute tops, and turned her away. She curses each and every one of them. 

Because while she's not dainty or proper or graceful, Nene is-- Nene is fantastic. She could never be anything but. 

She hates that the only conclusion Nene's come to is to change herself. Hates it. 

Aoi has to choose her next words carefully. She has to even out her tone, to keep the anger tugging at her heart from boiling over into her voice, because Nene doesn't deserve to hear something so foul. "That's quite some dedication," she says, practiced. 

The compliment makes Nene brighten. "I've really gotta pay attention this time around," she rallies, sitting up with her back purposefully straight, "I'm going to blow Ms. Yako's socks off!"

Seeing Nene so excited does alleviate the rage in her chest, allowing her to smile without forcing it. "I can't wait to see it."

By the time the class period rolls around, the class gathers in one of the spare ballrooms at the academy– because, of course, there's multiple ballrooms. Ridiculous. 

The floors are freshly polished, shiny enough that the chandelier's reflection is another source of blinding light. In the corner of the room, stationed by the massive windows that show a glimpse of the gardens, is an old fashioned gramophone. The two of them are one of the first few people to arrive, so they sit against the wall as they wait for more people to filter in.

Nene's almost trembling in excitement next to her, hand clasped in Aoi's. "This is so exciting," Nene confesses, bubbly. "I can nearly see it! Like, right over there is where the live music is meant to play, and then over there is where the hors d'oeuvres are meant to be!" 

"Oh, that's right," Aoi says, remembering, "the class reunion balls are held in this ballroom, right?"

"Yep! And then the graduation parties are in the main ballroom, and then the Annual Charity Gala is in the one near the music room– can you believe it? I never thought there needed to be multiple ballrooms for a single place, but I guess I was wrong."

"No, you're right," Aoi snorts softly. "Eden loves showing how much money is invested in it, so they have far too many ballrooms. I don't think there's any difference between the rooms other than where they're located." She rolls her eyes secretly, just for Nene. 

Nene giggles, starry-eyed. As more students gather in the room, a tall lady from the main office peers in. She briefly looks over everyone until her eyes land on the two of them.

"Ms. Akane?" the lady calls out from the open door. "There's a call for you in the office."

A… call? 

A small dredge of worry crawls under her skin. There's only one person who would bother to call her, but she squashes the feeling before it can take hold.

Shrugging, she looks back at Nene, smiling with ease. "Hopefully I won't be long," she says.

Nene salutes her. "I'll catch you up on whatever you miss!"

With a small wave, Aoi leaves the ballroom to head for the office. She tries not to let the idea of a call dig into her bones too much, not before she actually figures out who it is. 

However, when she steps into the office, the secretary warily looks up from where she's holding the receiver to her ear. Her lips are pressed together in the specific way Aoi knows exactly who is on the other side of the line.

Ice crawls through her veins until she's frigid, movements cracking like a lake's surface. She takes the phone from the lady's hands, wishing she could throw the whole phone right out the yawning windows beside her, and raises the phone to her ear.

"Mother," Aoi greets, smile perfectly intact, voice unwavering.

"Aoi," returns her mother. Businesslike. That's all it ever is with her. 

Aoi's jaw nearly pops as she opens it to speak her lines in this script. "How are you?" She asks sweetly, because she knows her mother will not ask first, and will not say anything until Aoi does. Idly, she twirls the coiled chord of the phone around her finger, pulling until it tightens and circulation is cut.

And, like expected, her mother twists it all around. "How do you think I am, upon receiving a phone call that my daughter has been acting out?"

Acting out. She nearly scoffs out loud. It's exactly as it is in the eyes of the academy, but it still rakes her nerves. 

Of course, it's only when she's not falling in line that her mother calls. Never before did she ever call her to congratulate her on any aced exams or flawless inspection results. Never.

Idly, she wonders what her mother had actually been told. What the words of the institution were. She hasn't been falling behind in any classes. Her uniform inspections are still passing, aside from the occasional nick that she doesn't care enough about. All she does out of line is have fun. 

"I apologize," she says politely. She'd rather drink arsenic than be genuine.

"If you keep this attitude," her mother says, barbed wire on her tongue, "I will withdraw you from that school. Do you understand?"

A stone plummets in her stomach. For the first time in forever, Aoi shrivels. 

She couldn't care less about Eden Academy. From day one this institution has restitched girls in a way that was more appealing, more flattering, to a class of up-turned bourgeois bores to be showcased as a doll rather than interacted with as a real, live human. This school is a blight of the earth, a smoldering, still-hot ember, waiting for enough oxygen to reignite and incinerate the individuality of young girls.

The only way to avoid crumpling is to bow your head and follow blindly. Don't let it reach your heart or your soul. 

Frankly, she's sick of this place. She's annoyed with having to keep her cuticles clean for inspection, to scrub away and dig out any of the dirt caught her fingernails. Fed up that any glimpse of a grin, any sliver of a smile that's more teeth than the designated lady-like close lipped grimace, is a cause for punishment. Tired of being a proper young lady. 

At any chance to leave this place, she would have gladly taken it.

But now… 

Aoi's finger aches. When she looks down, her chord-wrapped finger is the color of a plum.

"Yes, ma'am. I understand," she relents, quiet. 

"Good. I expect improvement by the end of the week. If not, I'm pulling you out on Monday." And with a piercing click, her mother hangs up.

The dial tone drones in her ear. She doesn't lower the phone, not until the secretary starts looking more and more worried with each glance towards her. Only when she hands the receiver back does she untwist her finger from the chord. 

Her pulse throbs a deep beat in her fingertip as it slowly returns to a better color. Upon the pins and needles, Aoi curls her hand into a fist, crushing the digit as she returns to her room.

______________

Since she's an absolute angel, Nene returns to their room almost immediately after the class is over. 

"Hey," she says, two parts curious and one part concerned. Taking note of the darkness of the room, she doesn't turn the lights on when she steps in. Only the filtered light from the window acts as a guide. "Are you alright? You didn't come back to class…"

"I'm alright," she says neutrally, hands folded in her lap. It was a little awful of her to not go back to class especially since she said she would, but if she had stepped into that room and put her eyes on Nene when the hole in her chest was tearing open, she would have not been able to hold it all together.

What a mess it would have been. What a complete mess it already is.

Nene doesn't look convinced in the slightest, but she graciously doesn't prod further. All she does is let her bag slip off her shoulder, toes off her shoes, and climbs up onto Aoi's bed, slotting right next to her. 

Aoi takes her hand when it's offered and manages to not squeeze too hard. Perhaps it had been silly to think that having an hour of peace would help her keep it together, since it all nearly unfolds right here and now, nearly unspools from her chest and down her cheeks.

"I'll tell you more later," she whispers, definitive.

Nene only nods, giving back a squeeze of her hand. 

In a handful of minutes, Nene's head drops onto her shoulder, breathing slow and quiet. Aoi closes her eyes and wills herself not to shake.

They barely manage to get the remnants of dinner. The staff give them searing side-eyes, but do nothing more than passive-aggressively clean up around them.

Aoi feels a little bad for bothering them. Nonetheless, she piles up her plate and sits with Nene by her side.

Since Aoi's known the art of bottling things up and throwing them out to sea to never be thought of again, she's able to keep a normal conversation with Nene the whole time. Nene, who had looked troubled for a moment, picked up where she was meant to– she now chatters about the ballroom lesson, recounting how Ms. Yako messed up the gramophone and played it backwards and couldn't figure out what was wrong for at least ten minutes.

Aoi listens, but for all of her bravado, she can't keep the tension from her limbs. 

She needs to tell Nene. Needs to. Her mother is going to hold true to her word– and, from the way things are, it's either cut ties with Nene to get onto the instructors' good sides once again, or be cut from Nene.

There's no good way for this to end. There just isn't.

When Nene finishes talking about the steps she still couldn't get a hang of in the classroom, Aoi, desperate to grasp at any chances to spend the time remaining with Nene, softly suggests, "Why don't you show me?"

Nene looks up, blinking curiously, cheeks pudgy with the bite she just took. Her baby hairs are arranged strangely, like she had squashed them down with sweat from dancing and they had dried that way. 

"We can figure it out together," Aoi points out, trying to refocus her eyes somewhere else before she gets too enraptured with how cute Nene is. "It's been a while since I've learned, but maybe with the two of us, we can get there?"

"You already knew how to dance?" Nene gasps theatrically. Her knee bangs against the mahogany table, making the dishes clatter. She winces, ducking to avoid the sharp look a staff member shoots her, but doesn't let her voice down. "You've been holding out on me this whole time?"

"I wouldn't call it 'holding out.'" Aoi says, laughing. "I doubt I would be very good at teaching you how." As an apology, she slides over the remainder of her pudding. With a playful glare, Nene accepts the apology with a spoonful. 

"Tonight, maybe?" Aoi suggests, trying to hide how restless she is. 

Nene nods solidly. "Tonight!"

Creeping through the halls has surprisingly become second nature to her. In the dead of night, so late that there's no chance any hall monitor will be up, Aoi and Nene slip into the halls.

The ballroom paints a completely different picture at night. Moonlight reflects from the polished marble floors not unlike the chandelier, lighting the entire room– and, subsequently, illuminating the gramophone still in its place in the corner of the room. The vinyl record is still in place, so all Nene does is move the arm back over the record, and soft orchestral music begins to play.

The world feels ethereal, right now, in this room, with the starlight and the faint notes of violins. Nene glows with the moon as she twirls into the middle of the dance floor, the shimmery-white of her bed clothes fluttering like curtains in a breeze. 

"Okay, step one," Nene announces, voice hushed, even though they're already being risky by playing music. Sweeping low, she does an over-the-top bow, looking up cheekily towards Aoi. "Properly greet your partner!"

The grandeur of the action makes Aoi laugh softly, easily bowing back. "It's an honor," she says politely, voice light. Usually, during bow exchanges, she keeps her lips pressed tight, only giving her partner a smile that's just a shy bit nicer than a grimace. For Nene– she lets excitement color into her words, feeling silly but having fun with it.

Nene laughs, delighted. "Then, uhm," she continues, then pauses. "Do you want to lead, or should I?"

"You lead, since you're taller," Aoi jokes, holding her hands out for Nene to take. 

"What!" Using their clasped hands, she pulls Aoi closer, peering at the top of her head as if she can tell the difference in their heights. "No way! No way am I taller!"

In truth, it's only a difference of a centimeter or two– all in all not that big of a difference– but seeing Nene gasp like this is adorable. "Why do you think I always ask you to get the books from the high shelves?" Aoi continues, bubbling with laughter. 

"Wha– Ehm!" Nene blubbers, face growing pink. "I just– thought, that– whatever! I'll– I'll lead, then!" She tries to reel back, but the tips of her ears continue to burn, her pout pronounced in a way that she tries to control her expression. "So, uhm, now we… we hold these two hands," she gives one pair a little shake before she lets go of the other, gently guiding Aoi's hand. "And then you put yours on my shoulder, and mine goes on your waist!"

Aoi was worried, infinitesimally, that being so close to each other would be awkward, that she would freeze up with the proximity and the touch. But it's nothing like that– not with the laughter between the two of them, when Nene mixes up where her elbow is meant to be in the arrangement, her hand on Aoi's waist like a reassurance. 

When their giggling peeters out, Nene's gone quiet, a smile curved on her face as she looks at Aoi. She doesn't say anything for a moment or two, and Aoi's heart begins to climb into her throat. 

"And then?" Aoi prompts softly.

A blink. Nene continues as if she wasn't in a brief trance. "And then we… uhm… step back. My right foot. So you step forward with your left!"

It's off to a wobbly start, especially when Nene moves her left foot instead of right. The misstep sends them into a fit of laughter again, and another when Nene yelps as Aoi steps too far and her toes crush Nene's. 

They step in rounds for a couple of minutes, trying to find a rhythm of their own. The waltz is a simple square, but they manage to make it a hexagon of sorts– their pace completely ignoring the beat set by the tinny orchestra. A little bit longer, and Aoi's confident enough to look up from her feet to Nene's distracted face.

She doesn't get very long to admire unnoticed– Nene's eyes flicker up, double taking at the sight of Aoi already looking at her, then she brings her whole head up. When Nene's eyes soften, bright with a smile, Aoi feels her chest flutter, butterflies in flight. 

With Nene like this, her hair silvery in the dim light, soft around the edges and heart on her sleeve, Aoi thinks if she were more brave she could kiss her. Right here. It would be so simple: just a lean forward. 

But she's not brave. Not anymore. 

"My mother called," Aoi whispers before she can hold it back. By will alone is she able to keep her voice even. If she speaks any louder, she won't be able to keep out the warble that's threatening to crack her voice. "That's why I had to miss practice."

Nene hums, a quiet urge for her to continue. The only context Nene has for Aoi's mother are in bits and pieces, scraps of scraps. She knows that it's hard for Aoi to speak about it, so she waits, endlessly patient.

God. Aoi can't be thankful enough for her.

"The academy called her. That I've been 'acting out,'" she says, rolling her eyes. Nene snorts with her, laughing under her breath. It's almost a joke in and of itself– the amount of times they've been chastised for acting out when they were doing things like sharing secret smiles in class or drawing in the library.

Aoi swallows thickly against the tightness of her throat. Swallows again. Whispers. "She… She threatened to pull me from the academy if I didn't get my act together."

Once it's in the air, she feels more than sees Nene's reaction. There's a jump to her– her hands flinch, against her palm, against her waist. She slows their pace to a halt, looking at Aoi with a quake in her eyes. 

"She'd… pull you out?" Nene whispers, fraught. 

She wishes there was anything she could say or do to banish that look from Nene's face. It's written into the laws of nature– Nene isn't made for being sad, for being upset, she should be laughing, gleaming. Her eyes should never glisten this much.

But there's nothing. Nothing she can do. Ashamed, Aoi looks back down to her feet, unable to look at Nene and say worse and worse things.

"Yes," Aoi confirms. The butterflies in her chest riot, unsettled, upset. "She said I have a week to… to get back into the instructor's good graces."

She doesn't know what her mother was told. Doesn't know if they put a bug in her ear about the fact that Aoi has finally found a friend, someone she can confide in and trust, only at the cost of being an obedient lady. 

What a load of shit. They've never cared about her before, and they never will.

"A week," Nene croaks. She swallows audibly– Aoi really, really hopes that that's not the sound of tears, because she could never forgive herself if she made Nene cry.

Aoi lets her forehead drop into the gap of Nene's shoulder and throat. 

After a moment of silence, she says, "Okay." The sound of acceptance in Nene's voice shakes Aoi to the core, jerking back to look at the shuddering expression on Nene's face. "Okay," she repeats, straightening from her slump. "That's alright, then."

Aoi feels hollow. She feels dizzy, sick. "That's– That's alright?" she echoes, scared, scared because what does she mean. 

"It's– it's not great, but it's still possible," Nene starts, eyes unfocused like she's planning it all in front of her. "You already know how to do everything properly and get good scores, so all we need to do is stop hanging out with each other, right? I'll stop bothering you, and then you can stay!"

The only reason Aoi doesn't shake is because she's so tense, so strung up. "What? What?" 

Dispodent in a way that raises the hairs on Aoi's neck, Nene continues, words rushing into each other, "I'm– I'm a bad influence, you know?" Her hands tug away from Aoi's. As if she's infecting her. As if she needs to get away. "I'm always doing the wrong thing, and I shouldn't drag you into that, too. I mean…"

Both of them know the looks that the staff give them. The sneer of disproval at Nene, always at Nene, and the slight disappointment that takes when they look at Aoi. They always look at Nene like she's a mold growing on Aoi's side. A parasite. Just something that needs to be cut off, removed at the root.

Every glance had made Aoi so angry. So fucking angry.

"It's not your fault," Aoi interrupts, holding steadfast before Nene could fully slip away, "It could never be your fault."

Nene grimaces like she doesn't believe it. Something deep twists her gut, because-- because--

"Nene, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me," she says, so truthful that it hurts, but she needs Nene to know, needs her to understand. "I don't care if they think I'm acting out. I-- I don't want to be this… this perfect daughter. I don't care about having perfect mannerisms or bowing correctly or being coy or whatever. I'm having fun. With you. I love going outside and climbing trees for bugs with you. I love exploring the abandoned halls with you. I love sitting in class with you. You've made everything bearable."

Nene ducks her head, hair falling as a curtain over her face. For a moment, she's worried, deep in her chest, that Nene still won't believe her, but her ears are cherry red. When she peaks up from her bangs, the line of her cheekbones are also flushed, eyes glittering. 

"What… what are you going to do, then?" she asks, quiet, so quiet.

Aoi turns away, briefly frustrated. "I– I don't know." There really isn't anything they can do. Going back to how it was before, when she smiled politely and courtesy in the way that got her full marks-- thinking about it makes her shrivel on the inside. She couldn't. 

But at least they would still be able to see each other, even if it was regulated just to when they would resign for the night. It would be better than not seeing Nene at all. But…

It's unfair to Nene, too. At least with the two of them conspiring, they weren't alone. They could botch any lesson, giggle under their breaths, venture off to places they weren't allowed to, but they always had someone to turn to. If Aoi were to turn a new page and go back, Nene would go right back to being the blemish that everyone ignores. The one that everyone thinks is hopeless, even though she tries, tries so hard.

She knows Nene tries to hide it. She's seen Nene try to hide it– seen the muscles in her jaw shift, like she's biting down on her tongue, holding her tongue, when someone says scathing words to her. She's seen the wince, the flash of hopelessness whenever Nene knows she's messed up, when she's blotted her uniform and knows it's unsalvageable. 

No one sees how hard Nene tries. No one. 

It's unfair. It's so unfair. Nene doesn't deserve that. Nene has never deserved to be dismissed like that. She's only trying to survive in this bleak hell.

God. Why does-- why does everything come in the way, right when things seem to be working out? 

"I don't know," she says again, defeated. "I… I can't go home. I can't. But I don't want to leave you, I can't just… cast you off during the day. I…"

"Then– run away with me!" Nene blurts, leaning so close that, for a heart-stilling moment, Aoi thinks she's going to kiss her. She threads her fingers through Aoi's, squeezing tight. She looks– embarrassed, that she's shouted, but she doesn't lose any enthusiasm. "Run away with me," she repeats, more heartfelt, reassured, "If they can't accept you for who you are, then they don't deserve you. We'll find somewhere else!"

Aoi thinks she could cry. She might actually cry. 

"W-Where?" she nearly chokes, her heart in the back of her throat, because it's a ridiculous idea, it would never work, but they could. They could run away. "Where would we go?"

Gaining momentum with the idea now that she's said it out loud, Nene says confidently, "I dunno!" Her eyes still glimmer though, filled to the brim with excitement and hope. "We-- we can just go somewhere! Anywhere we like! We don't even have to have a destination in mind!"

An ember in her heart, Aoi feels so hopeful. She wants to believe in it so badly. She-- she does believe in it. But nothing has ever worked out well for her before– she wants it to, wants more than anything for this to work out, but…

"They'll come looking for us," Aoi has to say, a pessimist. 

"So?" And just like that, Nene blows over that worry. "So what if they do? If they find us and bring us back, we'll just have to leave again, right?"

Softer, finally acknowledging the magnitude of the suggestion, Nene lowering their clasped hands as she talks quietly, "And– and if we don't figure it out, or– or even if we're just tired of running and hiding, we can just come back, you know? Just. We can't stay here. It's killing you."

"And you," Aoi corrects quietly, because she has to. "It's killing you, too."

Nene smiles, something weak and defeated. Her shoulders sink a bit. "Yeah," she breathes out. Almost like an inhale, as well. "Yeah. Me too."

Because while Nene gives and gives, she'll push her own worries down into her heart, where they are never to be mentioned or seen. She'll ignore it, even though it's tearing her apart. She'd ignore it, apparently, just so she can give Aoi hope.

Because while much of this is for Aoi, this is also for Nene. 

Aoi– Aoi wants to give her hope, too.

It's naive. So childishly naive, but Aoi wants to be this naive for once. 

"Okay," she blurts, smile watery and quaking. "We. We can do this. Okay."

And Nene shines, hopeful on her lips.

______________

Towards the end of April, two Eden Academy students were reported missing, with their last known appearance being the final class period of the day, mere hours before. A multitude of personal belongings were also missing, as well as the Academy's standardized bags used for school materials. 

All that remains of them– the only hint of them– were two pairs of the black, shiny flats regulated as Eden uniform, placed at the very edge of the breezeway leading to the gardens.

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Great Hunt! Chapter 36: Among the Elders

Let's keep this simple. This post? Spoils all of The Wheel of Time. Literally this specific post references the last pages of the final book. You shouldn't be reading this if you don't already know everything or at least don't care about spoilers.

Oh also there's a gif with an incredibly moderate amount of flashing at the bottom. I don't think it should hurt anyone with conditions but I'm feeling overcautious so this is your heads up.

This chapter is another example of the new trefoil leaf icon because we're still hanging out with the Ogier.

A number of Ogier women were watching him, from white-haired grandmothers to daughters Erith’s age, a knot of them talking among themselves but with all eyes on him. His ears jerked, but he looked at the broad door to which the stone steps led down, and nodded again.

Poor Loial really isn't ready for the Pangossipcon of the Ogier steddings.

The Ogier woman in the middle of the dais sat in a chair raised a little higher than those of the others, three bearded men to her left in long, flaring coats, three women to her right in dresses like her own, embroidered in vines and flowers from neckline to hem.

We can conclude here that while Ogier society is a bit dominated by the ladies (almost nowhere in Jordan's world is perfectly equal), it's still one of the more egalitarian and thus thematically functional places.

“I will find the Horn,” Ingtar said angrily. “I must. If you will not permit us to use the Waygate. . . .” He fell silent as Verin looked at him, but the scowl remained on his face.

What are you going to do, Ingtar? Slaughter them all? That's some redemption.

His face sagged, without any expression at all, and his big eyes were vacant and unblinking, not staring, not looking, not even seeming to see. One of the women gently wiped drool from the corner of his mouth. They took his arms to stop him; his foot went forward, hesitated, then fell back with a thump.

It's a shame brain scanning is a long dead technology because I would LOVE to know what's going on with all this. Perhaps Nynaeve will delve into the Ogier victims someday, though I expect that's probably rather unlikely.

“No mind. No soul. Nothing of Trayal remains but his body.”

So what happened to his soul? Did it just get immediately sent back to T'A'R? Is it still rattling around in Machin Shin? Is this a Hopper-esque true death, or will Trayal manage to be reborn someday?

“We do need him,” Verin broke in smoothly. “Few any longer know the Ways, but Loial has studied them. He can decipher the Guidings.”

Verin once again being the useful team member by giving a reason for Loial's presence. Ingtar is continuing to be a handicap at this point. When wtas the last time he actually did something useful?

“I will,” he told her. It had the feeling of a commitment, the swearing of an oath.

Presumably death gets Rand out of his oaths because dude up and ditches Loial as soon as the weaving of the Pattern is done.

“That’s not true,” Mat said, straightening abruptly. “Marisa Ayellin thinks I’m handsome. She told me so more than once.” “Is Marisa pretty?” Loial asked. “She has a face like a goat,” Perrin said blandly. Mat choked, trying to get his protests out.

It's good that they're bantering again. Gotta say though Perrin, I think your standards for pretty are a bit different than most Two Rivers boys.

Around the edge of the clearing the Ogier had built a low stone coping that seemed as if it had grown there, suggesting a circle of roots. The look of it made Rand uncomfortable. It took him a moment to realize that the roots suggested were those of bramble and briar, burningleaf and itch oak. Not the sort of plants into which anyone would want to stumble.

We should let the nuclear waste storage people know about this method because it seems a lot more effective than the whole "THIS IS NOT A PLACE OF HONOR" bs.

“I have told you,” Verin said, “the Black Wind is a creature of the Ways. It cannot leave them.”

With Rand around, anything is possible Verin. Even bad shit. Hell, especially bad shit.

Verin stood with eyes unfocused in thought. Mat was sitting on the coping with his head in his hands, and Perrin watched him worriedly. Loial seemed relieved that they could not use the Waygate, and ashamed at being relieved.

Raise your hand if you've ever felt the way Loial does.

That said, this affair has definitely gone to shit and I'm not even angry at Ingtar for immediately going back to plan "Smash heads until I get what I want."

“What we need,” Hurin said diffidently, “is one of those Portal Stones.” He looked to Alar, then Verin, and when neither told him to stop, he went on, sounding increasingly confident.

Dude really has low self-esteem for someone who is by all rights an independent contractor. I'm beginning to wonder if Borderlander culture is more messed up than the books let on.

“I can find it,” Rand said reluctantly. He felt ashamed. Mat’s going to die, Darkfriends have the Horn of Valere, Fain will hurt Emond’s Field if you don’t follow him, and you’re afraid to channel the Power. Once to go and once to come back. Twice more won’t drive you mad.

"Yeah I said I was only going to use ultra-heroin at parties, but my buddy's coming over and it would make me a bad host if we didn't hit it up a little."

“The Brown Ajah knows many things,” Verin said dryly, “and I know how the Stones may be used.”

I wonder if this is a Brown Ajah secret, a Black Ajah secret, or in fact just a Verin Mathwin secret. Any answer seems possible.

Next time: